by J. C RIMELL
“I don't know about love...”
“A guy, then?”
Gabrielle nodded.
“I got just the thing.”
After troffing down a third of her Mississippi mud pie and feeling the 'happy' benefits of the chocolate, Gabrielle leaned back and pushed the plate away. She overheard the guy behind talking on his cell in a hushed voice. Straightening up, she turned her head casually as though looking through the window to the street.
You're so nosey.
“She wasn't part of the plan, Nix.”
A pause. Then a heavy thump of a fist hitting the table making Gabrielle and the other two women jump.
“It's too late now!” he snapped, trying to keep his voice low. “Take her to their headquarters, let Warden deal with her. I'll wait for his go ahead.”
She heard him cuss under his breath. He had an accent. Russian maybe. One of the women seemed to know him quite well. They appeared on friendly terms, but something suddenly felt off. Gabrielle knew the name, Warden. He was the founder of the Society which ran all the operational teams in Carolina, including the one Ryker was part of. She caught the male glaring back at her in their reflections in the window.
“You gonna finish that?” someone asked, bringing Gabrielle's attention back around to the woman she now knew as Jo.
“Oh, I'd love to, but I'm full.”
Gabrielle's eyes followed the well-built male as he got up from his seat and with a smile at Jo, he exited the café.
“Hey, Jo… Can I ask you how you know that guy?”
“Who? Aden?” She shrugged. “Sure, he's my gardener.”
“Oh, I see. Listen, thanks for everything, but I gotta go.”
Gabrielle jogged up the sidewalk searching for the guy called Aden. Just when she thought she'd lost him, she spotted his blond hair among a small group of people waiting to cross the street. Hanging back, she acted casual all the while her eye's kept him in her line of vision. His pace quickened as he proceeded past Becker's Bar toward the club, then she lost sight of him as he turned down an alleyway.
Her hand went to her hip, felt the reassurance of her gun and pursued him.
She approached with deliberate caution and rounded the corner. He was gone. The alleyway seemed clear. Moving further in, her eyes darted left and right and spotted the side entrance of the club. Figuring he must have gone into the building she went over and found it ajar. Opening the door wider, she peered in, a dark, gloomy corridor. She heard a bang, someone moving around.
The cop in her had to know, had to find out what the guy was up to. Something in her gut was telling her, whatever it was, it wasn't good.
Twenty-Two
Fleet entered the cell where Murphy was interrogating the two rogue prisoners. If anyone could get answers, it was the shifter with the ability to manipulate his subjects.
“Tell me what I need to hear,” he said coming level with Murphy. Glancing up at the man who easily stood a couple of feet taller than him, Fleet noticed the shifter's lips were drawn in a tight line. Right now, he needed answers. He needed to know where Madeleine was. Why she'd been taken, and who the hell had taken her. If that meant getting his hands dirty with the two rogues kneeling before him, then so be it. He'd do what he had to do to get one of his own back safely.
“These are just a couple of pawns in the Real Freedom Allegiances' splinter cell.”
Fleet's glare intensified on them. His tawny eyes heating up as his dominance filtered out of every pore and into the room. “Where is she?” he demanded, feeling Murphy's calming effects mist over his temper.
“A guy called Nix and his brother took her. Apparently, Nix was pissed at Madoc and Jared for belittling him in front of his group. These two were told to wait at the cabin until Nix returned from the Society's Headquarters. That's all they know.”
With eyebrows crashing together his head whipped back around to face Murphy. “They're taking her to HQ… Now?”
The shifter gave a grim nod.
Fleet sprinted from the room, mentally signaling for his pack to gear up and to be ready to go in two. Reaching the garage, he pulled his cell from his pocket and punched in speed dial for Christopher Warden. The Overseer's cell rang twice before he answered.
“Fleet?”
“Sir, we've got a situation.”
Ryker came up level with Fleet and the rest of the pack standing in the parking lot. Dressed in military clothing and loaded with their weapons of choice, Shadow Pack entered the Society's building.
“I'll only ask this once, Fleet,” the Overseer said. “Are you certain about this?”
“A hundred percent. I'm sorry I had to do it this way,” Fleet replied opening the door to the stairwell.
The Overseer turned to face him, placed a hand on the alpha's shoulder. “You did your job well. You suspected Alex of wrongdoing and bugging the building was necessary to get to the truth. I wouldn't have it any other way,” he paused, his intelligent eyes narrowing. “Now, how long do we have?”
Fleet shrugged with a shake of his head. “I wish I knew.”
“Well, then, we'd better make this quick.”
The group headed up the stairwell, checking each level. Reaching the twelfth floor, Fleet gave the signal with a closed fist to stay put. They could hear shouting, and Ryker scented Madeleine immediately. Fleet gave Ryker and Nevada the go-ahead to move forward further down the corridor. Together, they checked the doors either side, entered the rooms and gave the all-clear. Murphy, Delta, and Eve took the next set.
All-clear.
Fleet moved forward with his pack either side and then halted outside of Alex Wardens office. He raised one finger, two, three, and gave the signal for Ryker and Nevada to move in first.
Ryker stormed into the middle of a massacre. There was blood everywhere. His eyes assessed the situation with split-second precision. Madeleine was his first priority. He put a bullet into the flank of the wolf attacking her. He heard Nevada shoot from his left, taking down the other wolf with a shot to the shoulder.
Falling to his knees, he took Madeleine in his arms. “God, Madeleine. Jesus. Are you alright?” She clung to him. Gripping his camo vest in her hands, the oversized T-shirt she had on was blood-soaked and clung to her body. He shoved his gun into its holster and pulled her face back so he could look at her. “Madeleine, baby, are you hurt? Shit, all this blood. Fuck. Is it yours?”
She shook her head. Her eyes glistening, her face dirty and streaked with tears. He sighed in relief and glanced up. Fleet and the Overseer were confronting Alex Warden, who was swinging a gun between the two of them. Nevada, Delta, and Eve had their weapons aimed at him. Murphy's weapon was trained on another guy Ryker didn't recognize, but something prickled his senses. There was a blend of different scents in the room but one stood out among all the others. Even over the welcoming, familiar scent of Madeleine.
The guy's eyes were like two light-sabers in his head and zoomed in on Ryker like he wanted to rip his fucking head off. The guy was a big bastard, towering over Delta and Eve. He swayed on his feet, bleeding profusely from a multitude of wounds that'd put many guys on their ass.
Looking back at Madeleine despite all the commotion still going on around him, his sole focus was on her.
“Madeleine,” he said as gently as he could, taking out his bowie knife to cut her restraints. He growled deep in his throat when he saw the raw, fleshy rings gouged into her skin. “What the hell's going on?”
Her cinnamon eyes lifted to meet his. “Thank you,” she said with a soft stroke of her trembling fingers along his jawline. “I don't know,” she shook her head. “Alex Warden wants to put an end the Society.”
The guy behind roared as he tried to lunge forward. Eve put a bullet in his shoulder and he weaved on his feet before falling to his knees. Madeleine's head whipped round, and she fled from Ryker's embrace. Rushing over to the male, she wrapped her arms around his torso, trying to soften the blow as his powerful body tipped forward an
d crashed to the floor.
Feeling like he'd just been punched in the guts, Ryker staggered to his feet. He walked over to the two of them, oblivious of the yelling between everyone else in the room. Standing over Madeleine, the male's scent hit him like a fucking wrecking ball. He grabbed his gun and going down onto his good knee; he pressed the muzzle to the back of the guy's head.
“NO!” Madeleine cried out, her hand going for the gun.
Ryker ripped off his cap, turned to glare at her with eyes that were way beyond even his own recognition. Madeleine stared back at him, eyes wide with fear.
“It's him, Madeleine!” Ryker spoke through clenched teeth. “This is him!”
Her brows furrowed. “Ryker, what? I don't know what you mean.”
He cocked the gun.
“Ryker, steady there buddy… What's to do?” Murphy asked, and he could feel the shifter trying to pacify him, calm the whole situation down.
His lips drew back over his fangs. “He's your attacker, Madeleine. He's the one I saved you from.”
Watching as her eyes widened further, she brought a hand to her mouth, looked down at the male lying unconscious before her. “No. Jared, he helped me. When the rogues attacked me, he helped me.” Her voice quivered, head shaking in disbelief.
“Ryker? Ryker?” Fleet's voice was at his ear.
His eyes swayed sideways to glance at his alpha. “Put the gun away, this will be dealt with later. Right now I need your head back in the game. There's a bomb to defuse. Ryker?”
Ryker felt his heartbeat pulse several times before his head was clear enough to disarm his weapon. Standing up slowly, he backed away focusing on Madeleine. She held his gaze with a thousand questions swimming in her glimmering eyes.
Had she given herself to him? To the one who had scarred her. Taken her human life without a choice? Taken his fucking leg? No, he reassured himself. Her scent was the same as always. It still didn't change how he felt, the bastard was half way to having her as his own, wasn't he? All she had to do was accept the SOB. But once she knew the truth. Once he explained that her hero lying before her was actually the one who had attacked her, she'd have nothing more to do with him.
His head pounded to the beat of his hammering heart.
Turning on his heel, he walked away taking his rage and his own questions with him.
Gabrielle crept cautiously deeper into the club toward the pacing of heavy boots and cussing. It was him; she recognized the accent of his voice. Only a door stood between her and the guy that had ruffled her cop instincts the wrong way. If this went tits-up, she'd be so in-the-shit she could kiss any promotion she may be in line for, well and truly goodbye.
Palming her semi in a tight grip, she turned the handle with slow deliberation and sucked in a breath to steady her nerves. The door opened a fraction, and she peered into the main room of the club. The boarded up windows made it hard to see anything through the darkness. She hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder to the crack of light filtering through the door she'd come in from.
You can't turn back now!
Swallowing her unease, she slipped into the room, keeping her back to the wall she moved to the left. Her adrenaline pumped through her veins heightening her senses. Something moved in her periphery, she swung her gun in the direction. She could hear the sudden pounding of her heart and her own breathing speed up.
“Don't make a move.”
Fuck.
It was him. And he was standing so close behind her, she could feel his body brushing against her back as he breathed.
“Put down the weapon.”
Gabrielle's mind went into defense mode. She raised her hands as though in surrender and crouched to put down her gun. In a split-second, she flipped herself over onto her back, her gun aimed straight ahead at the guy's chest. She could see his silhouette, but he had a ski mask or something covering his face.
“Don't move asshole… unless you like the taste of lead.”
He said something that sounded like a curse in Russian.
Gabrielle got to her feet keeping her gun aimed at him. “Who were you talking about on the phone back at the café?”
He stepped forward.
“Stand the fuck still or I will put a bullet in you,” she cocked the hammer for emphasis. “Now what's going on? You're up to something and you're gonna tell me what that is.”
“You should have minded your own business. I don't particularly like hurting females, so I apologize in advance.”
The guy lunged at Gabrielle and she squeezed the trigger putting two bullets into his chest before he took her to the floor. She fired again, and again, and again, emptying the clip. His body jerked with each shot and he groaned before he crushed her beneath him.
She tried to move him off of her, squirming beneath the heavy weight. It took every ounce of her strength but she finally managed to crawl out from under him. Staggering to a stand, she put her gun away and grabbed her cell from her jacket pocket. Gabrielle wasn't quick enough. Her mouth gaped, when, to her utter disbelief the guy got up. He charged at her like a raging bull, knocking the phone from her hand and the air from her lungs as they collided into the bar.
Now you're screwed.
Ryker located and diffused the IED at the Society Headquarters, then notified Fleet. He waited as they descended in the lift and met him in the parking lot. Everyone one was there, including Madeleine, who had her arm around that guy's waist, helping him into the packs' SUV. He bit off a curse. Damn, he couldn't even look at her right now.
A sudden pain in his sternum made him flinch. Fuck, he was gonna give himself a heart attack stressing about all this shit. Why should he care? Madeleine clearly didn't want him. And he didn't deserve her.
That still doesn't mean the rogue should have her.
Ah, Christ. He unzipped his camo vest and kneaded the pain with his fist.
“Ryker, you comin'?” Cade called over to him.
“Nah, man, I'll ride with Nev,” he replied waving them forward. He couldn't be anywhere near that rogue cozied up beside Madeleine in the back. He didn't trust himself to keep his hands or his weapons to himself and not kill the guy.
Nevada stopped the vehicle alongside him. “Come on, you've got to get to the club.”
Ryker climbed up, trying to mask the pain that was boring a hole in the center of his fucking chest.
“You look like shit.”
He shot her a scowl.
“Is it really him?” she asked, concern in her voice as she put the vehicle in motion and left the underground parking lot.
Swallowing his rage, he turned his cap back around so the bill shaded his eyes. “Yeah. It's him.”
Nevada kept her eyes on the road when she asked, “What're you gonna do, Ryker?”
Shrugging, he huffed. “Fucked if I know.” He didn't want to talk about it. He couldn't even think straight, let alone have a clue on how to handle any of this crap.
“Where's the Overseer and his brother?” he asked, changing the subject.
“The Overseer felt he should be the one to deal with Alex. Jared, ah, you know, the rogue guy, already ripped out half his throat. I think the Overseer will be finishing the job.”
“That's some serious shit. It's still his brother after all.”
“Yeah, but he was going to kill us all and already killed all those innocent people at the Fire and Ice. Brother or not, the Overseer gets my vote.”
Ryker's eyes narrowed. “You know, this Jared guy should be held accountable under Society laws for attacking a member.”
He felt Nevada's eyes on him and could hear the cogs turning in her mind. “Shit, you know you're right. But then, Alex should be held accountable for all the carnage he's caused. I trust the Overseer to do the right thing, whatever it'll be.”
The Society Protectors, Jack Henderson and his partner Benjamin Silver approached the Grave Yard night club from the alley side of the building. While Sentinels, Tatum, Remi, Elijah and Jake took the fro
nt. Sentinels Vincent Frost and Aaron Kane climbed up onto the roof and some of Jack Henderson's human officers were on evac duties of the nearby shops and businesses.
The building was rigged to blow, and they had to find the device before that happened. If the place blew, it'd take out the whole street and the sidewalk along with it.
The Overseer had informed Jack of the events that had taken place at HQ. Ryker had located the IED and had successfully diffused it. He was now en route to the club.
“Looks like the side entrance was used for access into the place.” Jack paused, fingering the door open further. “Silver and I are going in.”
Jack slipped into the building with his partner close on his heels. Palming his Beretta, he took out his flashlight and moved forward.
Coming to the next door, he glanced at Silver, the tall, dark-skinned male gave a clipped nod and together they prepared to advance.
Jack opened the door and yelled, “Police! Don't move!”
The front of the building was penetrated by his comrades shouting, “Clear! Clear!”
Walking forward as the light from outside flooded through and partially lit the back of the room, Jack saw a woman strapped to a chair. He went to her at once, crouching down, he looked at her more closely, she seemed familiar. “Agent Robinson?”
Her eyes flicked up. With her mouth taped, she just nodded.
“Holy shit,” he said as he looked her over. Her body was rigged with some kind of explosive device. He reached up and tried to be merciful as he tore the tape away. “You okay?”
“I shot the asshole! Popped my whole clip into him and he just got up like nothing had happened.”
“Must have been wearing a bulletproof.” Yeah. He wasn't about to try to explain just how or why those bullets had had little effect on a guy like that. “Listen, we've got someone on the way, they'll have you out of this thing in no time.”
She nodded and he gave a gentle squeeze of her arm. “Are you hurt?”