“There. That way.” I pointed just south of his location. Hopefully we could push him north and away from Collins.
Mandy rushed through the woods ahead of me, but I followed close behind, my blood vision easing my navigation. I couldn’t see the creek where it bent around the northern tip of this patch of woods, but I knew it was there. From the higher vantage point atop Olive Boulevard, I’d seen enough to know what needed to be done.
Mandy’s growl urged me to hurry, and I doubled my pace again when I heard the vampire hiss. I pulled the can of pepper spray from my belt and tagged a couple of trees before slipping through the brush to where Mandy had cornered our target. They stood frozen, glaring at each other in a tight span of tall grass illuminated by the moon shining through a gap in the canopy. The Kurt look-a-like hissed at me next.
“Quiet,” I snapped, taking aim at his eyes with the can of pepper spray. “This works just as well on vampires. Trust me.”
His snarl evaporated. “You know?”
“I am,” I countered.
“But you’re a cop.” His confused eyes shifted to Mandy. “And you’re working with a werewolf.”
I shook my head. “We don’t have time to play twenty questions. You have to get out of here.”
“Then why did you stop me?” The snarl was slowly returning.
“Because you’re going the wrong direction. There’s already an officer waiting for you east of here, and the school and residential area beyond that will guarantee a full-blown search party.” I pointed north. “The creek cuts through the woods and then dips under 141. Stay in the water until you get at least that far.”
Another dog—Ricker’s German Shepherd Yogi, I guessed—bayed not far behind us. The vampire flinched at the sound.
“Go,” I whispered, pointing north again. “We’ll buy you some time.”
As soon as he was out of sight, I made a wide circle, spritzing every third tree with pepper spray. Mandy whimpered and rubbed her nose into the earth before covering her muzzle with both paws. Yogi echoed her sounds of distress as he and Ricker joined us.
“Jesus H. Christ.” Ricker coughed and hacked as he waved the end of his flashlight back and forth in front of his face. His uniform wasn’t as flattering as Collins’, highlighting love handles and the Marlboro baby he’d acquired after he’d ditched his nasty habit. At least his teeth were whiter these days, and he smelled better. After the initial month of mood swings, he was even pleasant to be around again. “What the hell, Skye? You find a den of bears out here or something?” he asked in between gasping for air.
“I tried to spray the suspect, but the nozzle on my can must be broken.” I shrugged and blinked to clear the tears burning in my eyes. “But hopefully Collins got the guy once he slipped out the other side.” I nodded my head east, away from the direction I’d pointed the vampire.
“Let’s get out of here.” Ricker ambled through the trees and led Yogi past the toxic clearing.
Mandy trailed after them, giving me a wolfish snort as she stepped around me. I sighed and glanced north, using my fading blood vision to see how far the vampire had made it. He was almost to the creek. He’d be long gone before anyone ventured that far to check.
When I exited the woods, Collins was waiting for me, arms folded across his wide chest. Mandy sat at his feet, an equally cross expression on her furry face. Collins pointed his flashlight in my eyes.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice thick with accusation.
I swallowed and pushed the end of his flashlight down. “My pepper spray malfunctioned.”
“Why did you even have it out? That wasn’t part of our plan.” He pulled the flashlight out from under my hand and pointed it at my face again. I squinted against the harsh light and huffed out an offended sigh.
“Our plan?” I said, folding my arms to match his. “We didn’t make a plan. There was no time for that. Ma—Star and I caught up to the suspect. I pulled my pepper spray, but the nozzle wouldn’t work, and the guy took off.”
“Why didn’t Star follow him?” Collins’ squinty, judgy eyes migrated to my partner. Mandy’s ears flattened back against her head as she stared at me.
“The pepper spray must have been too much distraction. I should probably take off early tonight to clean her up,” I said.
Collins’ lips scrunched together. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m sorry.” I threw my hands up. “What more do you want from me?”
He finally lowered the flashlight out of my face, but as I turned to head back toward the road, he snatched the can of pepper spray from my belt.
“Hey!” I reached for the can, but not before he had a chance to depress the nozzle. A stream of bitter fluid shot the ground at my feet. Collins sighed as I grabbed the can away from him.
“I don’t get it, Skye,” he said, shaking his head as he walked away from me. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and it can take time getting settled in a new unit, but you’ve been off your game ever since you came back. You’re not even trying anymore. I don’t know how long you can keep this up.”
I held my breath as I watched him go, the beam of his flashlight dancing across the tall grass as he made his way back to the road. Darkness engulfed me now that my blood vision was gone. It would take longer to retrace my steps to the checkpoint, but that was okay. I was in no hurry.
I hated to admit it, but Collins was right. And I didn’t know how long I could keep this up either.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Starting a new series is a little terrifying. Even with a dozen novels under my belt, I found myself having days of doubt while writing Jenna’s first book. Days when I would call or email a friend and ask what I was doing with my life. Luckily, I have some pretty awesome friends who assure me that I am not dumb or crazy for continuing to do what I do. Thank you guys. For real. ♥
Extra thanks are due to my husband, for being my sounding board yet again; my kiddo, for slipping into my office to trade kisses for candy (I’ll get those minion smooches any way I can); and my epic critique group, the Four Horsemen of the Bookocalypse.
I would also like to thank my little sister, the lovely Justina Roquet, for being my cover model; Rebecca Frank for creating such a fantastic cover design; Chelle Olson, for zapping this book with her editing superpowers; Kenny Neal, for letting me pick his brain with random police questions; and my new Facebook street team—so many exciting things I can’t wait to do with you guys!
I always feel there are a few hundred more people I should be thanking on this page, but alas, I must end somewhere. To anyone I missed (or even if you’re a new reader), please feel free to add your name right here: _____________ and accept this gratitude from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for taking the time to read my work. It means the world to me, and I hope it means something to you, too. ♥
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author Angela Roquet is a great big weirdo. She collects Danger Girl comic books, owls, skulls, random craft supplies, and all things Joss Whedon. She's a fan of renewable energy, marriage equality, and religious tolerance. As long as whatever you're doing isn't hurting anyone, she's a fan of you, too.
Angela lives in Missouri with her husband and son. She's a member of SFWA and HWA, as well as the Four Horsemen of the Bookocalypse, her epic book critique group, where she's known as Death. When she's not swearing at the keyboard, she enjoys boating with her family at Lake of the Ozarks and reading books that raise eyebrows. You can find Angela online at www.angelaroquet.com
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review. Your support and feedback are greatly appreciated! Be sure to sign up for Angela’s newsletter, The Reaper Report, for updates on new releases, book sales, freebies, and more!
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