Wicked Bite

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “I won’t let anything happen to your sister, Bear,” Nessa said softly. “Stop worrying.”

  The knife secured to his thigh glinted when he shifted his weight. “You’re both vulnerable to Apollo.” He frowned. “Just because one dart didn’t harm you doesn’t mean several won’t.”

  “I know. Did you call the doctor to come take blood? I kind of promised the queen.”

  “Yes. We’ll overnight it to the queen to take a look and see what’s what. But under no circumstances are you to use yourself as a guinea pig,” he said.

  Even if she had access to Apollo, which she did not in her present location, she wouldn’t stick the stuff in her veins. “No worries there.”

  “Good. Sometimes the queen takes research too far, and I won’t allow that to happen with you.” Arrogance was stamped hard on his rugged face. “Now, come here. Please.”

  Her abdomen did a little wiggle. She stepped toward him, her boot tips touching his. “I’m here.”

  He widened his stance, pulling her between his legs. “Closer.”

  She settled in and lifted her face. “Yes?”

  His lips brushed hers, and then he kissed her. He tasted of mint and male, taking her under, shooting desire through her blood. Finally, he lifted his head, his gaze soft. “Promise you’ll stay safe tonight.”

  “I promise,” she whispered, cupping his whiskered jaw. “You make the same promise. Don’t get shot.”

  He grinned. “I promise. When I get back, I want a decision about us.” With another hard kiss to her mouth, he set her aside and turned to stride out into the night.

  * * *

  Beneath his jacket, Bear tugged his bulletproof vest down to ease the pressure on his chest. The thing barely fit him, and it had been specially made for shifters. They’d parked the trucks several blocks away from the bar, running through alleys and deserted streets after that. Most buildings in the area were boarded up, but a few small businesses still existed. They were all closed for the night, complete with strong security bars over doors and windows.

  Clouds flitted above, letting the moon shine through on debris and broken glass littering the asphalt.

  He kept to the shadows with Nick and Garrett on his flanks. Lucas and Logan covered the other side of the street.

  A bum stumbled out of an alley and fell on a garbage can, which toppled over, spilling out papers and fast-food containers. Bear led the way around him. They’d save people tomorrow. Tonight was for fighting—and gathering information. “I need at least one of them alive,” he said through his comm unit.

  A series of affirmatives came in loud and clear.

  They finally reached Slam Bar, on the corner of hell and this place sucks. A metal sign hung haphazardly from a couple of stripped wires, blowing in the wind. Raucous laughter came from inside, and somewhere a woman screamed. Sirens wailed from a distance, their shrill cries echoing through empty streets, making it impossible to discern their location.

  Bear used hand signals to send Lucas and Logan around back. They both slipped silently into the night.

  “Stay alert,” he said quietly, pushing open the heavy metal door.

  Heat and noise hit him first, followed by the stench of old beer and piss. An enormous bald bartender shoved glasses of whiskey across a scarred wooden bar, his arm muscles bigger than a tire. Bottles lined the shelves behind him, and matted red velvet covered the walls. Dirty velvet.

  Barstools and high round tables were scattered throughout the space, with a couple of lower tables toward the back near several dartboards and pool tables. The stools were ripped, and cotton wadding stuck out.

  About ten people were inside, heads down, drinking heavily. Smoke hung in the air, choking it. Five additional men sat around a table in the back.

  Bear recognized one guy from the pictures Logan had downloaded of the wolf gang. Good ole Frank J. “It’s a go,” Bear said into his comm unit, striding toward the back of the room. The men there, wolves really, watched him approach, their gazes alert but their postures relaxed. The closer he got, the more he could smell the stench of wolf.

  Frank sat in the middle and had dark eyes, light hair, and a scar down his face. His nose was crooked and his clothes dirty. “What the fuck do you want?” His buddies watched carefully, going on alert.

  “You know who I am?” Bear asked, setting his stance.

  “Yeah,” Frank said, downing a glass of whiskey. “You’re a friend of Goldilocks.”

  His buddies chuckled and snorted.

  “What an idiot,” Bear muttered to Nick.

  “Yep. It’s always the idiot,” Nick said, letting his fangs slide free. “But they talk fast enough when they’re holding their intestines with both hands and trying to keep them from sliding to the floor.”

  Two of the wolves pushed back from the table, their chairs scraping the filthy floor, and stood.

  “We don’t want a fight,” Bear said, catching himself. “All right. We would like a fight. But we won’t hurt anybody if you just tell us who hired you to attack Grizzly territory. Just a name.”

  “Fuck you,” Frank said.

  Bear smiled. “I was hoping you’d say something like that. Maybe not those exact words, but something that indicated I get to hit somebody tonight.” Barely leaning over, he yanked the nearest wolf off his chair. A quick pivot, and he threw the man across the bar to hit the back door. The wolf bounced off and slammed to the ground. The door didn’t move.

  Solid doors. Interesting.

  Frank stood and lifted a green gun, pointing it at Bear’s head. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  The wolf already had a gun in his hand? Nick stiffened next to Bear.

  Bear slowly turned his head to see every patron in the bar concentrating on the three of them. Even the losers who’d seemed lost in their drinks were watching intently, not so drunk.

  The bartender lumbered over and locked the front door, setting a metal bar across the entire thing.

  Ah, shit. Bear lifted his wrist to his mouth. “We need backup.”

  No answer.

  His shoulders shot back. “Lucas? Logan? We need backup.” Nick and Garrett fanned out from his right, surrounding the table of wolves and putting most of the bar in their sights. Something had happened outside. Lucas would never fail to answer. As Bear watched, the wolf he’d thrown slowly stood, staggering, with blood sliding down his face. He engaged the locks on the back door and then pushed a metal rod into place so the door couldn’t be breached.

  “Am I the only one thinking this might be a trap?” Nick asked congenially, his body tense and his gaze sweeping the entire bar.

  “No,” Garrett said. “Logan? Call in. Now.” His voice deepened, and he sounded much older than twenty-five.

  No answer came from Logan.

  Bear moved toward Garrett to cover the kid. “First things first. Let’s handle this and then go find him. Lucas will protect him.” If Lucas was still alive. Bear couldn’t think about that. Not now.

  “Logan can fight,” Garrett said.

  Bear cleared his throat. They were so outnumbered it wasn’t funny. Not even close. Maybe there was a way out of this mess without spilling blood. He increased the volume of his voice. “So. We need information, and you need, what? How about a decorator?”

  The bartender moved back to the bar and lifted a semiautomatic green weapon—one that no doubt shot laser bullets that turned into metal upon piercing flesh. “We like money.”

  “We have money,” Bear said, sizing up the situation. Three of them, and about sixteen enemy—all wolves.

  “The odds aren’t so bad,” Garrett said, dropping into a fighting stance.

  The odds were fucking terrible. Worse yet, Bear had the king’s nephew and the demon leader’s best friend at his side. If either died, it’d be a diplomatic nightmare, not to mention the fact that he actually liked both of them. And at the moment, Bear’s best friend and the demon king’s brother were outside, alone and not responding to calls
.

  “I’d sure like to know how they knew we were coming,” Garrett growled.

  The bartender smiled, showing a gap between his front teeth.

  “I’d rather find out later and get free of this fuckup now,” Nick countered quietly.

  “Agreed,” Bear said, focusing on the bartender. The huge guy seemed to be more in control than the wolf who’d first spoken. “How about a civilized exchange? Money for a little bit of information?”

  The bartender cocked the gun. “There’s a mite of a problem, mate. We’ve already been paid.”

  “Now,” Bear bellowed, backflipping over the table and taking three wolves down with him.

  The entire bar sprang into life, and gunshots ripped through the melee.

  Chapter 28

  Nessa finished pouring another cup of tea for Simone and took it into the living room of the comfortable house. Beyond the dark windows, the river churned. Every once in a while, the clouds would part enough for the moon to shine down on the rapidly moving water. “They’re all right, Simone.”

  Simone sat on the sofa, her legs extended on an ottoman, stacks of paper in her hands. “I know. They’re all good fighters, and the wolves have no idea they’re coming.” She set the papers down to accept the tea. Her dark eyes glowed in her pale face, which looked even paler next to the thick waves of her black hair. The elegant witch wore light pants with dark high-heeled boots and a red tunic.

  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s after midnight,” Nessa asked.

  “Not until Nick gets back.”

  Nessa couldn’t sleep, either. Every time she’d sent Guard members into battle, she’d wanted to join them, to protect them. But that wasn’t her job. It wasn’t her job tonight, either. She picked up a legal pad with names already scratched off. Who wanted her dead?

  Her phone rang and she jumped for it. “Bear?”

  “No. It’s Jasper.”

  “Oh.” She tilted her head at Simone’s quizzical look. “What’s going on?”

  “You have a phone call from the king. I can transfer it to the river house if you’d like,” Jasper said.

  Nessa fumbled for the remote control that managed the wide screen above the fireplace. She pushed a couple of buttons. “All right. Send it to the main system. I think I can find him in here.”

  “Copy that.” Jasper cut off.

  The screen fuzzed for a moment, and then Dage Kayrs came into view. “Evening,” he said, looking impeccable in a black dress shirt and black pants. His silver eyes blazed. “Simone. How are you feeling?” His gaze seemed intense.

  Simone sat up. “Fine, Dage. Why?”

  He surveyed her. “Just checking in. Everything is all right?”

  The hair on the back of Nessa’s neck rose. “Why are you asking? Have you heard anything?”

  The king visibly relaxed. “No. I just wanted to see how everyone was doing. Have you quit your job yet?”

  Nessa shook her head and relaxed along with the king. “No. Probably tomorrow.” Once Bear was home safely. “I still need to write a quick speech.”

  “Since I have you, I’d like to offer you a job as Coordinator between Realm Allies,” Dage said smoothly. “You’d deal with all the different allies and coordinate agreements and disagreements. You’d answer only to me. Five million a year.”

  Simone sat up. “Not a bad salary.”

  No—it was an amazing salary. The job seemed perfect for her and a logical extension of her diplomatic experience with the Guard. “King. I don’t know what to say,” Nessa murmured.

  “Say yes, and feel free to rename the job whatever you want. I just need somebody to coordinate the relationship between witches, demons, vampires, and shifters. Please.” He eyed his wristwatch. “You can hire a staff of up to ten if you want. There will be some travel, and you’ll have to move to Idaho. I want you at Realm headquarters.”

  Her stomach dropped. “The job can’t be handled remotely?”

  “No.” He focused right back on her. “This is senior staff level, and meetings occur on the fly and at my convenience. The job is here. Think about it.” He reached for an area above the camera and stilled. “Oh. I’m supposed to ask you if a doctor took your blood and sent it our way today.”

  “Aye,” she said weakly. The doctor had shown up hours ago. “Expect the vials tomorrow morning.”

  “Great. We’re hoping there’s something in your blood to help counter PK and Apollo. So far, our labs haven’t come close to finding an antidote. Have a nice night.” He reached again, and then he paused. “Are you sure you’re both all right?”

  Simone huffed out air. “Why do you keep asking that?”

  The king sat back. “I honestly don’t know. It’s just a feeling.” He gazed beyond the camera as if listening. He stood up, and his eyes flared from silver to a deep blue. “Get out. We just received satellite pictures. You’re under attack. Get out of the house right now.”

  An explosion rocked the entire house. The screen fell to the floor and shattered.

  Nessa jumped up, grabbing Simone’s arm and running for the master bedroom. The door there had the best lock in the entire house.

  Another explosion echoed, shattering the windows. Nessa stumbled and fell, glass cutting into her hands. Simone grabbed her by the waist and tugged her up.

  Nessa turned to the windows to see two helicopters in position with guns pointed inside, fully armed. They’d sent helicopters? She scrambled and shoved Simone out of the way. Any weapon would hit Nessa before Simone or the baby.

  Alarms blared from outside.

  Gunfire pattered toward them, and Nessa tackled Simone, trying to cover the taller woman with her body, turning to see the threat.

  The sound of zip lines came clearly from outside, and two men landed on the porch, quickly releasing the ropes. The first guy, his head covered with a red mask, yanked a gun from his hip and jumped through the broken window.

  He had a dart gun.

  Nessa yelled and jumped up, putting herself between Simone and the attacker. “Get in the bedroom. Now.” She ran forward, her head down, and tackled the asshole through the window. Glass cut her arm as they flew into the night. She punched and kicked, aiming for his trachea.

  A ball of fire whizzed past her head, and she ducked, turning quickly.

  Simone stood behind her, balls of morphing fire on her hands, her hair streaming behind her. She threw hard at the other man, hitting him center mass. He flew through the air, landing in the middle of the river and quickly disappearing downstream.

  The guy beneath Nessa punched her in the face, and she fell back. Pain burst through her skull.

  Soldiers rushed out of the forest, firing up at the helicopters. Jasper came around the house and leaped over Nessa, grabbing her attacker and spinning him across the icy deck. Max, the vampire soldier, ran around the other side of the house, already firing rapidly at the closest helicopter, with Uncle Boondock on his heels. Max hit the pilot, who slumped forward.

  The helicopter swung around, its nose dipping.

  Bloody hell. Nessa jumped up and turned, running for Simone. The tail boom flew their way, the propeller cutting through the side of the house and then the sofa, sending tufts of cotton everywhere. The helicopter kept going, spinning around and crashing right in the middle of the river.

  Simone pivoted to run and slipped, falling and turning sideways, protecting her belly. Nessa reached her, grasping her and pulling her up. She turned to see the closest threat.

  Everything somehow slowed down.

  The other helicopter swung in close, a man leaning out of the side. He fired several darts.

  Nessa cried out and tried to shield Simone. One dart hit Nessa in the arm, and she hurriedly yanked it out. The helicopter rose and turned around, flying away with multiple soldiers shooting at it.

  She gulped, turning to look at Simone.

  Oh, shit. Simone had three darts sticking out of her arm. Her eyes wide, she slowly looked down at the darts
.

  “It’s okay,” Nessa said frantically, pulling each one out. “It’s okay.”

  Simone swayed. Panic filled her eyes. “Nessa?”

  “Yeah?” Nessa asked, sliding her shoulder beneath Simone’s arm and gently prodding her toward the bedroom.

  “I, ah, I think I’m bleeding.” Simone stopped moving and looked down.

  Nessa swallowed and looked at Simone’s beige-colored pants. Blood showed at the vee of her legs.

  “The baby,” Simone whispered, anguish in her tone.

  * * *

  A knife blade slashed across Bear’s thigh before he landed, men bouncing on either side of him. Flipping to his feet, he drew his gun and fired rapidly, hitting each man in the neck. There wasn’t time for nuance.

  He turned just in time to get hit with a blast to the chest that threw him back to the metal door. His head snapped into the metal, and stars exploded behind his eyes as he went down. The vest had protected him, but his entire torso felt like it had been hit by a truck. Sucking up air, he rolled and shoved the table over, taking cover for a moment. Gunfire and the sound of flesh hitting flesh overwhelmed the song on the jukebox.

  Garrett sailed over the table and scrambled on his belly to Bear’s side. Blood poured from a cut beneath his eye. “We’re outgunned. Too much firepower,” he gasped, spitting out more blood.

  Nick hurtled over, his left pant leg shredded and covered with blood. “I’m thinking they don’t want to negotiate.” He dropped his clip and grabbed another from his back pocket before leaning up and firing a volley.

  Something crashed.

  The song on the jukebox stopped playing.

  Bear dragged over the three guys he’d shot and quickly frisked them, finding three guns and two knives. Good. More firepower.

  Bullets sprayed above their heads, and they ducked. “Ideas?” Nick asked, leaning around the side of the downed table and firing quickly.

  “I could shift.” Bear levered up and fired several rounds at the bar. Bottles shattered, and alcohol poured down.

  “You’d knock us out with the shift,” Nick gritted out, wincing as he moved his leg. “And you wouldn’t have your vest. There are too many of them for one bear to take out.”