by Paige Tyler
“For a change,” Alex muttered.
This was the third different automotive location of Bensen’s that he’d worked since this surveillance job had started. This one was not only the largest, but the one where Bensen spent most of his time, and Alex was hoping they might catch a break here. Having both Bensen and Pendergraff in the building at the same time had to improve the odds.
“You’re recording, right?” he asked Remy.
His teammate nodded. They had half a dozen cameras set up around three sides of the junkyard, praying they might catch a glimpse of something that would tie Bensen to the manufacturing and distribution of fireball. But so far, other than recording the faces and license plates of a lot of visitors—most of whom had no connection to the illegal drug trade—they didn’t have much to show for their efforts.
After ten minutes, Alex sat back in his chair. Their chances of seeing anything interesting happen tonight were getting slimmer by the second. Unfortunately, that meant he was left with his own thoughts to keep him entertained, and they went back to the same place they had since last night—the murdered woman and dead dogs that he and Lacey had stumbled over.
The homicide cops, crime scene techs, and medical examiner had arrived shortly after he’d called it in. The detectives had taken his statement—multiple times—then marginalized him. He understood—he really did. He was the cop they called when it came time to kick in a door, rescue a hostage, or tackle a drugged-up suspect. He wasn’t the cop who combed a murder scene for evidence. Of course, he couldn’t tell them he’d already discovered a huge piece of evidence. They probably wouldn’t have believed him if he could.
He’d picked up two human scents off the dogs in that pile. The first one had only been on the five dogs who’d had their throats slit, which meant he was the asshole who’d killed them. The second scent had been on every one of the dogs, meaning it almost certainly belonged to the man who’d been responsible for dumping the animals after they were dead. Beyond that, things got strange. The second guy’s scent had also been on the woman’s body. Even stranger, the woman and the dogs had the scent of fireball on them too.
Alex couldn’t figure how dogfighting, drugs, and a murdered woman were all connected, but after the scent training with Khaki, he was sure he was right. He’d also used every trick Khaki had taught him so he could remember those two scents, just in case he ever ran across the dirtbags again. He knew that was unlikely, since he’d never be involved in the investigation into either the woman’s death or the dumping of the dogs’ bodies, but still, he wanted to remember those scents. Because if he ever ran into those two men out on the street, he would make damn sure they paid for what they’d done.
Lacey had been really torn up last night, of course, and understandably so. She’d been forced to sit in his truck at the crime scene for nearly two hours, telling the cops over and over what she’d seen. He hated she’d had to go through that.
Even after they’d finally left and gone back to her place, her heart had been pounding in her chest half the night. She wasn’t just upset by what she’d seen. She was furious. It was like she blamed herself for what had happened to the dogs and the woman. They had talked until nearly sunrise before Lacey had finally fallen asleep in his arms. He’d lain there in her bed, watching her twist and jerk in a fitful sleep that he would have given anything to make more restful.
At least she’d calmed down by the time they’d gotten out of bed around ten and had a late breakfast with Kelsey. He guessed she’d finally come to some sort of peace over what she’d seen.
“Everything going okay with Lacey?” Remy asked as if reading his mind. “You still think she’s The One for you?”
Alex threw a quick glance at Remy, wondering why his teammate would bring that up in front of Vaughn. It wasn’t like they could talk openly about it. But he could be honest about one part for sure.
“Yeah, she’s The One all right.” He grinned. “No doubt about it.”
Vaughn smiled as she swiveled back and forth in her chair. “That’s so cool that you’ve met someone who can put up with you not just being a cop, but in SWAT. I’m thinking it takes a certain kind of woman to handle a guy in your line of work. Make sure Corporal Brooks knows I’m that kind of woman.”
Alex was assuring the outgoing narcotics officer that he’d pass along that particular piece of information when Remy interrupted him.
“Is Lacey a spur-of-the-moment, just-go-crazy kind of girl?”
Alex chuckled. “Hell no. If anything, she’s the complete opposite. She thinks everything through to a fault.”
Well, there was that sex-up-against-the-wall thing, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to mention that to Remy.
“Then why did I just see her climb over the fence and go into the junkyard?” Remy asked.
Alex thought his friend was joking. It was the kind of dumbass thing Remy would say. But Remy looked completely serious.
“Holy shit,” Alex muttered. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
Remy hit a button on the console, backing up the tape from one of the perimeter cameras covering the south side of the property.
Alex prayed his pack mate was wrong, but sure as shit, there was Lacey, climbing over the fence, almost killing herself in the process, and dropping into the junkyard—almost killing herself again. Even in a black top with dark jeans and a knit cap on her blond hair, he would recognize her anywhere.
“That’s your girlfriend?” Vaughn asked in confusion. “What the hell is she doing in there?”
Alex could have asked the exact same question.
“It looks like she’s sneaking around Bensen’s junkyard,” Remy remarked. “Only she doesn’t seem to be very good at it.”
Just before Lacey moved out of the camera’s view, Alex saw her bump into a rack of car parts, knocking something to the ground. It wasn’t her fault—it was dark as hell in there. But the clatter of the metal part tumbling off the rack and hitting the ground could be heard all the way out to the surveillance van, and he didn’t need his werewolf hearing to do it.
“Turn off the cameras and back them up,” he ordered. “I’m going in there to get her.”
Alex tore out of the van even as he heard Remy explaining to Vaughn that everything would be fine—and that no, they didn’t need to call Rodriguez.
He rounded the corner of the building they’d parked the van behind and ran across the dark street separating him from the junkyard, already feeling his fangs and claws slipping out. He’d never been good at maintaining control in tense situations, and the idea of Lacey getting caught by Bensen’s security people—especially Pendergraff—definitely qualified as a tense situation.
He hurdled the ten-foot-tall fence that surrounded the junkyard, barely touching it with his hand in passing. He tried—and failed—to keep from growling when he hit the ground a moment later, but he couldn’t help it. He could already hear people coming out of the main building, no doubt checking to see what the racket Lacey had made was all about. She was in more danger then she could ever have realized.
Alex’s eyes adjusted easily to the deep shadows filling the spaces in between the various car parts, equipment racks, and garage structures as he moved in the general direction Lacey had headed. His head was spinning at a hundred miles an hour the whole time he tried to navigate the bewildering maze of rows and aisles that made up the junkyard. What the hell was she doing in here? She was a fucking vet. How the hell did she even know about this place—or Bensen?
A moment later, he finally picked up Lacey’s scent, mostly because he’d let himself shift so far. He angled a little to the left, moving to intercept her as she continued to head for the main building. Didn’t she realize that the noise she’d made earlier had drawn the guards outside? Was she completely clueless about how dangerous these people were?
The answer to that was obviously a
resounding yes. Even his semifunctional nose could tell she still hadn’t turned to go in another direction, even as several of Bensen’s guards moved her way.
He caught sight of one of the guards as he zipped between two of the garage structures, and what he saw freaked him out even more. The damn guy was carrying an automatic weapon. If he needed any other evidence that Bensen was involved in making and dealing drugs, he had it now. Guys guarding junkyards didn’t normally carry assault rifles.
Alex instinctively reached for his .40 caliber SIG Sauer but immediately moved his hand away. He couldn’t get into a shoot-out in here. There would be no way to keep Lacey’s name out of this, and he had no idea how she would explain her presence here. Hell, he wouldn’t even be able to explain his presence here, not without blowing this investigation wide open.
As he closed in on Lacey’s position, he could hear her heart pounding on the other side of the stack of crap he was moving along, when he realized her luck had run out. There was a guard heading straight for her, and there was no way in hell Alex could get to him before they crossed each other’s path.
Alex let out a low growl and ran faster, letting himself shift as far as he dared, then pushed it a little more. His leg muscles twitched and spasmed, bulking up and lengthening in response to his call for more speed, and he felt himself flat-out hauling ass along the ground, rocks and dirt flying behind him. But shifting to produce that kind of speed came at a price, and he felt his jawbone crack as more teeth came out than he had room for. If anyone saw him, he was fucked. He knew it was insane, but what the hell could he do? Those asshole guards would shoot Lacey on sight and worry about who she was later. He only prayed Remy had turned off all the cameras.
He was probably doing thirty miles an hour by the time he reached the end of the row. He was barely in control as he turned the corner and raced to close the distance between him and the guard he’d sensed earlier.
While Alex was moving fast, everything around him seem to slow down as both Lacey and the guard came into view at the same time. She was standing in the shadows fifteen feet away, completely immobilized by the sight of the armed man right in front of her, his weapon already turning toward her. Even in the darkness, the fear in her eyes was obvious.
Seeing Lacey terrified and in danger was too much for Alex. He cut loose a roar that echoed off every metal surface around them, sounding like a whole frigging pack of wolves had descended on the junkyard.
The guard snapped his head around in the direction of the sound, but it was too late for the man to see anything more than a snarling blur coming his way. The man tried to get his weapon up and around, but he was too late for that too.
Alex didn’t slow down to punch the guy or even disarm him. He was too crazy mad to even think of anything that rational. He was just glad he was able to resist the urge to rake his claws across the man’s throat. All he needed was for Lacey to see blood flying everywhere as he tore a man to shreds.
Instead, he lowered his shoulder and slammed into the guard’s chest at full speed. The impact was horrendous. The guard flew backward so hard, he probably went ten feet before he hit anything. Unfortunately, the thing he hit was a pallet of hubcaps, and the racket it made was almost as bad as the wolf howl Alex had just let out.
The guard went through the pile of hubcaps, bounced off a heavy-duty support structure, and then bounced five times across the gravel-covered ground before coming to a stop with a thud against the rack of equipment a full row over. He didn’t get up.
The pounding of feet converged on their location immediately. Alex didn’t have time to screw around, not unless he wanted to face a whole lot more bad guys. If that happened, the possibility of getting them both out of here without being identified would be just about zero.
Alex spun around to face Lacey, intending to grab her hand and head for the perimeter fence. But when he saw her face, he knew that plan wasn’t going to work.
He’d hoped that the shadows in between the aisle would hide his werewolf features—the claws, the canines that extended well over his lower lip, the glowing eyes. But obviously, that hadn’t worked out. Lacey’s eyes were locked on him, and they were as big around as saucers.
He tried to shift back, but he knew that was never going to happen. He was too freaked to manage that yet. When he was high on adrenaline like this, it tended to take a while for him to change back to normal. Usually the only thing that sped up the process was having a higher level alpha like Gage or Xander around who could snap him out of his werewolf haze.
Lacey opened her mouth, but whether she was planning to ask him what the hell was going on or start screaming her head off, he didn’t know. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to wait to see what happened. There were more guards coming, and they’d be here any second.
“Sorry,” he said. Then he charged straight at her.
Lacey’s eyes widened even more, and when she opened her mouth again, he was pretty sure it was in preparation for a scream that would likely be heard over a good portion of North America. Alex clamped his hand over her mouth, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms.
She kicked and struggled to get free, but he ignored it as he ran through the junkyard as fast as his legs would carry them. Lacey was so light in his arms that he barely felt her weight at all. He sure as hell could feel her panic, though. He heard shouting behind him, but he didn’t have time to risk a glance over his shoulder. He didn’t have to look to know the other guards were coming fast.
A moment later, Alex reached the end of the row and the T-intersection there. Lacey still struggled in his arms, but he didn’t bother to slow. He couldn’t. The itching between his shoulder blades warned him that he was close to running out of time. A werewolf had to trust his instincts—that was the first thing Gage had taught him when he’d brought him into the Pack.
He didn’t try to turn left or right at the intersection but instead jumped as high as he could. Lacey went completely stiff in his arms as his feet left the ground. He hated scaring her like this, but what other choice did he have? Damn, he was using that excuse a lot tonight.
While his leap got them to the top of a heavy-duty metal rack, it made more noise than he would have liked, though not the spectacular crash he’d been worried about. The metal under him creaked a few times as he quickly moved along it, but it didn’t collapse or fall over. When he finally got his balance, he crouched down and waited a few moments to see if anyone had heard him.
Twenty seconds later, a man came running down the aisle where Alex had been mere moments before. Even if Alex hadn’t been able to see in the dark, he would have still been able to identify the man. The guy’s pale skin glowed in the darkness, making him seem like a frigging ghost running through the stacks of car parts.
Bensen’s personal security goon stopped just beneath the storage rack Alex was on, swinging his automatic back and forth and cocking his head to the side as if he sensed Alex and Lacey somewhere nearby. Lacey had been struggling since Alex scooped her up, but the moment she saw Pendergraff, she went completely still. She was terrified but smart enough to recognize an even greater threat when she saw it.
The albino man stood unmoving below them for nearly a minute. The whole time he stood there, lights started coming on all across the junkyard, and at least a dozen men began to sound off from all around them, announcing they hadn’t found anything.
Alex was thinking he might have to jump down and make a run for it, even if that meant getting shot at all the way across the junkyard. He didn’t like that idea, but if he kept Lacey tucked against his chest, he should be able to keep her from being hit. He, on the other hand, wouldn’t get off so lightly.
But just as that was beginning to look like Alex’s only option, Pendergraff turned and walked off.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief, then looked down at Lacey. Her eyes widened again from seeing his shifted features up
close and personal, and he swore silently. He didn’t bother taking his hand away from her mouth as he jumped down to the far side of the storage rack and ran for the perimeter fence. He jumped over it at a dead run, freaking Lacey out so badly that she ended up biting his hand. Crap, she was going to be so furious with him.
He kept running until he got back to the building the surveillance van was hidden behind, only to discover it wasn’t there any longer. No surprise there. After the shitstorm he’d started in the junkyard, Remy and Vaughn would have known they had to pull out of the area. If not, the whole operation could have been compromised. They’d probably grabbed up all the cameras and moved the van to an alternate location a couple of blocks away. Alex would call and find them soon enough. Right now, he had a more pressing task to handle.
Lacey was so eager to get away from him that she stumbled and almost fell on her butt the moment he put her feet on the ground. She backed up until she was nearly ten feet away, and still she looked like she wanted to bolt.
The expression on her face—a combination of fear, confusion, and downright revulsion—twisted like a knife in Alex’s gut. That, and knowing how badly he’d scared her, finally shook him out of his shift. He felt his claws retract and his canines slide back in. The way the night became a little darker let him know his eyes probably weren’t glowing any longer, either. Not that it seemed to help. If anything, seeing him shift back had freaked Lacey out all over again.
“What are you?” she asked, taking another small step away from him.
The urge to follow after her was intense, but Alex forced himself to stay where he was. Moving toward her would only make it worse.
“I can explain everything.” He held up his hands in a placating gesture, trying to make himself appear as nonthreatening as possible. Not that he expected it to work. He’d just sprouted claws and fangs and run around a junkyard with her like she was a rag doll. “I just need you to trust me. Whatever you think right now, I promise I’m not a monster.”