I shook off the dizziness and turned back to face the wolf, which resulted in me taking three or four quick body blows and another hard shot to the jaw. I at least rolled with the last one, so he didn’t break anything, and I let my momentum carry me all the way around this time and came back with a hard high kick to his face. He ducked, and my foot sailed high over his head, spinning me so my back was to him. He wrapped his arms around my midsection and charged forward, either intent on smearing me across my own window or running us both through the glass and all the way to the sidewalk fifty-eight stories below. I threw my weight back and planted my Doc Martens wide against the glass, then walked up the glass, flipping myself backward over Devon’s head to land behind him.
I reached out with both hands and slammed his face into the glass, then twined my fingers in his hair and yanked him back, all the way to the floor. His head slammed into the marble, and his eyes crossed for a minute. He recovered ridiculously fast, and I wondered for a second if he was on something. I’d only met one werewolf before this one, and he was tough, but this guy was in another league entirely. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, because he rolled over onto his belly and launched himself to his feet, coming at me in a full charge just seconds after taking a shot to the head that really should have fractured his skull or at least left him concussed.
By then he was on me again and swinging for the fences. He was an experienced fighter, and while I had an edge in strength and speed, I had spent my youth being the lesser half of any fight I was in. The past couple of years had improved my fighting considerably, but I was still holding the short end of the stick against this Alpha. And it felt like I was getting beaten with the long end. I took another couple of sharp body blows and felt a rib crack. I thanked my stars I didn’t need to breath, because it was going to be very painful until I could feed.
Then something inside me clicked, which seemed to happen more and more these days, and it was like everyone around me was moving in slow-motion. Devon threw another big punch at my face, and I drew back just enough to make him miss. I was still close enough to feel the wind from his punch as his fist whizzed by my mouth, so I caught his wrist in both hands, popped my fangs loose, and bit down. I pierced his wrist right along the big vein and felt his hot, coppery blood splash into the back of my mouth. I tasted a little bit of sweat, a lot of battle-rage, and then the wolf’s life force was pouring into me.
I felt, rather than saw, Devon’s surprise at the change in tactics, then he started trying to pull away. I was locked in like a pit bull on a soup bone, so he wasn’t pulling loose. He started to rain blows down on my head and neck, but the combination of his blood and the magic I was drawing out of him both sapped his strength and healed me almost faster than he could do damage. I drank from him for longer than I’d drunk from anyone in years, draining him almost to unconsciousness before I pulled my mouth from his wrist and let him drop to the floor. He collapsed to his knees, his eyes lolling back in his head. I stepped forward, grabbed his beard, and yanked his face up to mine.
“If you ever think of challenging me again, understand this—I know that weres can’t be turned, so if I drink you dry and throw you into the Dumpster like the piece of trash you are, you won’t ever come back. You’ll just be another dead SOB that let his mouth write checks that his ass couldn’t cash. So go back to your pack. Tell them the new deal is—” I looked over to William, who held up three fingers. “Thirty percent. And you deliver from here on out. If I have to send a man to collect even a nickel from you, he’ll bring me your ears in the bag with my money. Are we clear?”
He sat there, rocked back on his heels, and looked at me with his mouth hanging open. I leaned down, fangs fully extended. “Are we clear?”
He started, like he just saw me for the first time, and scrambled to his feet. “Thirty percent. Delivered here, first of every month. Don’t be late. Or ears. I got it. Can I . . .” He gestured toward the door, and I nodded.
I waited until he was about halfway to the elevator before I called after him. “Devon?”
He froze, then turned very slowly to look back at me. “Yes, sir?”
“We’re not ever going to have this discussion again, are we?” I put a little steel into my voice and let my fangs drop a little.
“No, sir. Never.” He turned and walked to the elevator just about as fast as one can walk without it being considered a run.
I turned around and looked at Paulson, who hadn’t moved from his couch at any point during the encounter. “Wanna tell me how I screwed that up, too?” I walked over to the opposite couch, sat down, and put my feet up on the coffee table. “William, could you make a couple of beers miraculously appear? I’d like to wash the taste of dog out of my mouth.”
“Yes, sir,” William said.
Paulson looked at me over the top of his iPad, sighed, and closed the lid on the tablet. He put it on the end table beside him and sipped his very expensive bourbon. “There was no reason to keep him alive. That was your first mistake, and eventually, it will be your last. You continue to leave enemies at your back, and one day one of those enemies will tire of pretending to be your friend. Or tire of choking down crow. That will be the day they kill you.”
“So I should just kill anyone who opposes me? That’s your strategy for long-term stability? Seems weak to me.”
“I’m not interested in seeming strong. I’m not interested in seeming anything. I’m interested in ruling with an iron fist, and destroying any who stand in my way. You did a fine job of cowing the wolf and bringing him in line, but that should have been the lesson taught his second, after you delivered his severed head to the rest of the pack. That is how you drive home a point.”
“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point, just like on most things, pal,” I said.
“Unless I decide to press the matter,” Paulson said, and I felt the temperature in the room drop. I felt Abby move into position behind the desk, and from the corner of my eye I watched William take cover behind a column, still holding my beers.
“Now isn’t the time, Paulson.” Thinking to myself how it was totally the time. The werewolf blood had healed all my injuries from earlier, I was jacked up on adrenaline and a newfound combat sense, and with the lycanthrope blood running through my veins I was a good 20 percent stronger than normal. So I hoped I could reverse-bluff Paulson into making his move now, when I might actually have an edge. Or at least be even with the older vamp.
“Why not? You’ve got a broken rib, you just battled an Alpha were, and your reserves are depleted.” Paulson stood from the couch and rolled his head from side to side as if loosening up for a fight.
“Fine. You want to dance, let’s dance.” I straightened and took a step toward Paulson, adding a little waver to my walk. “It won’t be the first time I’ve had two unwinnable fights in one night, so if now is the time you pick to throw down, let’s do this.” Then I closed the distance fast. The tiniest widening of Paulson’s eyes told me all I needed to know—he didn’t know I could move that fast. Most days he was right, but I was hyped up on werewolf blood, and I was a much better me than most days.
We stood there for a long moment staring, measuring. Paulson and I locked eyes for what seemed like minutes, then he nodded and sat back down. “Today is not the day, Mr. Black. But soon.”
“You know where to find me, pal.”
Chapter 18
THE MOON WAS high over the city as Lieutenant McDaniel wired up Owen for his ransom drop. I didn’t like the idea of him going in alone, but everyone involved had made it very clear exactly how much they cared for my opinion, so I stood off to one side, leaning against Nester’s unmarked car, watching the proceedings. We were in the employee parking deck of the Duke Energy building, three blocks from Panthers stadium, bathed in the sickly orange glow of low-pressure sodium lights. It was eleven thirty, and the deck and the area around the stadium appeared deserted except for a big Mercedes van sitting all by it
self, and my clunker parked on the street a few blocks on the opposite side of the stadium.
We were all inside the new, fully-outfitted mobile command center—a van packed with me, McDaniel, Nester, a couple of SWAT officers running the tech, and two guys outside the van with no necks who looked very uncomfortable around all the cops. I pegged those as Owen’s employees.
“You know you’re lucky the lieutenant even let you be here at all,” Nester said. “He was real pissed about the shape the van was in when I brought it back the other day.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t my most shining moment,” I admitted. “Now, quiet, I’m eavesdropping.” I turned my attention to McDaniel and Owen.
“This place seems way too exposed for the actual drop, so you’ve got a two-mile range on the tracker. That way we can stay with you no matter what kind of Die Hard crap they try to put you through. And we’re using an even more powerful transmitter on the ransom, so we can follow the bag no matter where they go. We have snipers in the luxury boxes all around the bowl, and our team has line of sight to every point in the stadium. If they show up here, we’ll catch them.”
“That’s what you said last time,” Owen grumbled. “And what’s he doing here? I thought I made it clear—”
McDaniel put a hand in the center of Owen’s chest. “You made yourself perfectly clear, Mr. Owen. Now let me be clear. You do not tell me how to run my investigations, my operations, or my division. I know that you’re tight with the chief and most of the other people in this city who can and do make my life miserable on a regular basis, but I don’t care. We know there are vampires involved in this mess, and Mr. Black is supposed to be in charge of that populace, or at least be powerful enough to handle any vampires that we may encounter. Your men are no better equipped to deal with this supernatural crap than mine are, so let’s leave the spooky shit to the spooky bastards, shall we?” His tone made it very clear that no objections were expected, and after a couple of seconds, Owen nodded his head.
“Good,” McDaniel said. “Detective Nester will drive you to the drop point and provide some cover if things go south. If anything goes wrong, listen to him. He may be the only person in there with your interests at heart. Everybody else is only here for your daughter, but I’ve made it clear to Nester that if anything happens to you, he’ll find himself back on crossing-guard duty before sunrise.”
Nester, Owen, and I trooped out of the van, and Owen got in the golf cart. “Let’s go,” he barked to the detective.
“Sir, our instructions are for midnight sharp. It’s ten minutes yet, and I’d rather not have you out in the open for any longer than is absolutely necessary—”
“I wasn’t asking, kid. Now get your ass in here and drive me to the fifty-yard line.”
“No.”
“What the hell did you just say?” Owen got out of the golf cart and stared at Nester, who hadn’t budged from where he leaned against the car next to me. I just grinned. This was getting good.
“I said no,” Nester replied. “Sir, with all due—”
“Kid, if you don’t get in that cart right now, I’m going to start walking. And if that makes me even half a second late for this shitshow and my baby girl gets hurt, I’m going to—”
“Sir,” Nester interrupted, and Owen was so surprised at his audacity that his mouth snapped shut with a sound I could have heard even without bat-ears. “Sir,” Nester went on. “With all due respect, my job is to keep you alive, so if you take one step past that cart, I’m going to tase you and then handcuff you to my steering wheel until it’s time to go to the drop. Now it’s uncomfortable getting tased, and a lot of people piss themselves, so you’ll have to ride out there to rescue your little girl in a puddle of piss, but you’ll be alive, which is, as I mentioned, my only concern. Are we clear, sir?”
Owen spluttered a little, but after several seconds of staring at the implacable detective, muttered, “Fine,” and sat in the cart.
I leaned over to Nester, we bumped fists where Owen couldn’t see us, and I whispered to him, “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Detective Law, sir. She’s been working with me on being more assertive. I think it’s working.” I had to agree with him. Gone was the milquetoast beat cop I’d met months ago. Standing beside me was a self-assured young man who just backed down Charlotte’s biggest crime boss. Well, biggest human crime boss, anyway. I’m not exactly sure how Owen measures up to my little empire, but I’m not one for measuring, criminal syndicates anyway.
“Well, good job, Nester. But now of course it’s getting close to midnight, so you’d better move your butt if you plan to get Mr. Bigstuff to his date in the stadium on time.”
“Yep. I’ll see you in there?” Nester looked a little green, and I paid attention for the first time to exactly how much the kid had riding on this. He was sitting in a new gig he wasn’t sure he was ready for, largely on the recommendation of me and my almost-certainly ex-girlfriend, so he was feeling the heat to do everything exactly right, or McDaniel’s prediction about the crossing-guard position could certainly prove true.
“If everything goes well, I won’t be needed. But I’ll be there, don’t worry.” I gave him a slap on the shoulder, and he got in the golf cart. The men rolled to the stadium, and everyone else sprang into action. McDaniel walked back up the steps into the van, and it cranked up and headed to the entrance of the garage, ready to charge down the street to the stadium at a moment’s notice.
I walked to the side of the garage facing away from the stadium and jumped to the ground. A trim figure stepped out of the shadows, and I made my way to him.
“Something’s not right,” I said to William. My assistant was dressed in all black tactical gear, trading out his crisp suit for black cargo pants, jump boots, and a sweater.
“I agree, sir. They should have listened to your plan in the first place, that would—”
“William, I’m not looking for a sycophant here, I’m looking for your opinion. Something doesn’t feel right. I brought you along because you see things that I don’t.”
“What’s wrong, sir?” The little assistant looked up at me like I was supposed to have an idea. Which I guess I was supposed to have, as his fearless leader. I swear, if losing the Master gig didn’t involve getting a foot of stake rammed through my heart, I’d consider it.
I stood stock-still for a moment, listening to the electric whine of the golf cart as it rolled into the stadium. I could hear Owen griping at Nester the whole way, and I could hear the hum of the high-powered sports lights, but nothing to indicate there was anyone else in the stadium. I waved William after me, and we ran down the sidewalk to the entrance, getting there just after the golf cart rolled in.
“Listen,” I said to William. “Do you hear anything?” I pushed my hearing, focused my attention to a narrow pinpoint, blocked out everything else around me, and got nothing. I looked down at my assistant.
He shook his head. “I can only hear Owen and Detective Nester. There is some movement in some of the luxury boxes, but no conversation.”
“That’s McDaniel’s snipers,” I said. “They’ll have radios, but they’ll be on earbuds and won’t call out until the job is finished or everything goes south.”
“What did you hear?” William asked.
“The same bag of nothing. And that’s no good.” I pulled out my cell phone and sent a quick text to McDaniel. “IT’S A TRAP.” was all I wrote, then slid my phone back into my pocket. I needn’t have bothered; McDaniel called back within seconds.
“What are you talking about, Black?” The lieutenant’s voice was a harsh whisper, like he didn’t want the other cops knowing who he was calling, or there was something going on in the mobile command center that he didn’t want to disrupt.
“What do you see? Or hear? Or whatever,” McDanial asked.
“Nothing,” I replied, “and that’s the problem.”
“What are you talking about, Black? Never mind, hold your position, we’re
almost there.” He clicked off, and I turned to see the mobile command center rolling through the stadium gates. I motioned to William, and we ran over to the moving van, jumped onto the side running boards, and rode it into the interior of the building, clinging to handles on the side designed for SWAT teams, I assumed.
The door slid open, and McDaniel stepped out onto the concrete. I hopped off the running board and walked up to him.
“What’s the problem, Black? We’ve been in constant communication with Nester and our snipers, and they haven’t seen a soul.” McDaniel said as he turned to me.
“That’s exactly what worries me, Lieutenant,” I said. “Nester and Owen are out there to turn over the ransom, right? To whom?” I pointed down the tunnel that led out onto the field. “William and I can’t hear anyone except your people. No one.”
McDaniel’s face went ashen at my words, but I kept going. “There’s nobody out there, Lieutenant, just Owen and Nester. And if there’s nobody here, why is the scoreboard running?” I pointed up, and McDaniel followed my finger to the giant LED video boards installed along the sides of the field, above the top rows of seating. They were running a loop of Panthers game footage, but that still raised the question—who turned them on?
“Shit,” McDaniel said. He picked up his walkie and spoke into it. “This is McDaniel. Eyes up, everybody. We have a Situation Ackbar. I repeat, we are Ackbar. Nester, is the package safe?”
“Yes, sir, but agitated. We are in position, but he wants to make the drop and leave. He seems to think that they will release his daughter when—” Nester fell silent as an image came onto the scoreboards. Owen stepped out of the cart and dropped the bag full of cash onto the field. Nester got out and moved around next to him. I’m not sure if he thought the kingpin wannabe was going to run or pass out, but with the picture on the scoreboard, my money was on the latter.
The Black Knight Chronicles (Book 6): Man in Black Page 13