Chapter 7
The cop froze, then spun to face him. Good old Bruce had his gun up, and Lucas really wasn’t surprised when the ass**le fired at him. Not surprised, but really pissed off.
Lucas moved, fast—not fast enough—and the first bullet blazed a path across the side of his shoulder. The second bullet missed, and the cop didn’t get a chance to shoot the third one. Lucas caught him and slammed Bruce’s back into the side of the patrol car. The cop’s gun clattered to the ground.
Sarah scrambled out of the car. “Get the keys to the cuffs!”
Sure, right after he sliced—
“Lucas, he’s working with Jess and Rafe!”
That froze his claws. “Is he now.” He smiled down at the cop. Bruce’s eyes were bulging.
Sarah shoved in close and ripped the keys from Bruce’s belt. She fumbled a bit, swearing, as she fought the lock. He heard the soft snick, then she said, “He was going to deliver my body to them—”
Lucas’s teeth snapped together and his fingers squeezed that fat neck. Bruce’s face went that fast, deep purple.
“D-daugh . . . ter . . .” The gasped word huffed from Bruce’s lips.
Sarah’s hand brushed over Lucas’s arm. “We all have our reasons for making deals with the devil, don’t we?”
What? He glanced at her, but never eased his grip. Her gaze was on him, not the cop. She seemed even paler, and the scent of smoke clung to her.
“Trust me on this, Lucas,” she said. “You don’t want to kill a cop.”
Actually, he did. Very much so.
She rolled her shoulders and winced a bit. “If he dies right now, guess who this will be pinned on?”
It would be—
“Me,” she muttered, not giving him a chance to answer. “Now ease up on him, okay? The guy’s gonna black out any second.”
For her, he eased his grip. Bruce sucked in a deep gulp of air.
A snarl broke from the shadows. Piers, still in wolf form.
“You stay back, too,” Sarah called, huffing out a breath. “We can’t kill him,” she said. “We need him.”
“I don’t need the dickhead.” Bruce had been going to trade Sarah?
No, he’d been ready to dump her body into the hands of the highest bidder. Fuck that. Lucas lifted the guy up and rammed him back against the patrol car. Bruce’s head hit the top of the car and his eyes rolled back in his head. Lucas let the bastard drop to the ground.
Then he turned on Sarah. “What the hell happened to you?” His nostrils flared. “Why do I smell your blood?” And the scent was driving him crazy. The beast inside loved the smell of blood. Went wild when prey bled, but . . .
But Sarah wasn’t prey, and the beast was having a whole different reaction to her blood. Kill. Punish. Destroy.
Sarah blinked at him. “Ah, Lucas . . .”
But he’d already pinpointed the blood. A wound on her arm. A white bandage that was already coming loose and he could still smell—“You were shot.”
“Yes, well, when all hell broke loose at that place, I got caught in the cross-fire.”
Because he’d left her. His fingers brushed lightly down her arm, careful to avoid the wound. “You won’t get caught again.”
She laughed at that. A bitter, mocking laugh. “Dude, getting caught is the story of my life.”
His back teeth clenched.
Sarah glanced over her shoulder. “And if we don’t get out of here soon, more cops will be on the scene and we’ll both get tossed in cages.”
Not gonna happen. “You smell like ash.”
Her chin shot up. “Well, I guess that’s better than smelling like shit.”
What? A quick laugh broke from him.
Sarah’s eyes widened.
Oh, damn, but she was dangerous.
“Don’t do it, Sarah,” he warned her, as the laughter faded as quickly as it had come.
She eased away from him. Was she afraid? Finally. She should be afraid. If she knew everything he wanted to do to her, she’d be f**king terrified.
“D-do what?” She almost tripped over the gun Bruce had dropped. She bent and scooped it up with fingers that shook. “I’m not doing anything to you.”
She was, even if she didn’t realize it. If he wanted a woman too much—the way I want Sarah—that lust could become dangerous. To her and to him.
But I already want her too much. So much that I can taste her on my tongue. Not ash and blood. Sweet candy.
Her gaze searched the darkness of the alley. “Tell me you have a car around here.”
Even better, he’d stashed his motorcycle. He’d followed her from the station, taken a shortcut and managed to head them off.
He held out his hand to her. “Let’s go.”
Her eyes dropped to the hand. “I knew you’d be coming for me.”
Trust? From her? Her fingers rose and curled around his offered hand. Her touch was soft, warm. The cop would have killed her.
He slanted a glance toward the shadows, where he knew Piers waited for orders. “I’m getting her back to the main house. You take care of him.”
Piers would understand.
Lucas caught the slight relaxing of Sarah’s shoulders. “There’s just some blood you don’t want on your hands,” she said.
They walked away from the cop. Lucas steered her to the left, toward his motorcycle and away from Piers.
They’d taken about five steps when he heard the soft rustle of clothes, then a soft click. Fuck. Every cop had a backup weapon.
“I’m gettin’ that damn money!” Bruce shouted. “I need it—”
Lucas shoved Sarah to the ground and whirled with claws up. Piers snarled as he lunged from the shadows.
Bruce crouched on the ground, the weapon aimed, a twisted smile on his face. “I’m takin’ that bounty—”
A bullet slammed into Bruce’s chest just as the cop fired his gun. Bruce blinked, once, twice, and a gurgle rolled in his throat. His body slumped, and he managed, “Kel . . .”
“L-Lucas?” Sarah grabbed him and spun him to face her. “Are you all right?”
He’d been shot. He glanced down. Blood stained his shirt but he hadn’t even felt the hit. After so many bullets, sometimes you didn’t feel the pain. “I’m fine,” he told her and then he realized—
Sarah had the cop’s gun in her right hand. She’d taken out the bastard.
Her gaze met his. “I didn’t want to kill him.” Tears misted her eyes. “I didn’t want—”