by Chant,Zoe
He turned back and was just about to move back toward the conference room to collect Daphne when he saw it: a faint shadow moving along the wall at the other end of the corridor. Whoever was casting it was standing around the corner, hidden by the wall.
Leading with his weapon, Heath crept forward. Daphne was looking at him, her face pale, from the conference room doorway. Heath shook his head at her slowly, and she nodded, understanding.
The next second, a figure dressed all in black had rounded the corner – black fitted sweater, black pants, a black ski mask hiding their face – and a large, black gun in their hands.
“Daphne, get back!” Heath shouted, throwing himself across the corridor so he was between her and the gunman, firing off two shots as he moved. The first one missed – and gave the figure in black time to fire his own gun. Heath felt the impact as the bullet buried itself in his shoulder, but aside from that, he felt nothing. His heart was pumping red-hot fury and adrenaline right through his body.
Protect your mate! Protect her! his lion roared, but there was no need anymore – his second bullet had found its mark, and the figure was lying slumped on the floor.
Heath only had a second to savor his lion’s roar of triumph – in the next second, he heard running feet, evidently attracted by the sounds of the shots.
“Daphne, get inside the conference room and lock the door,” he shouted urgently. “Don’t open it no matter what. Do you understand?”
“What?” Daphne asked, sounding panicked. “No – I’m not leaving you –”
“Do it now!” Heath shouted. “For your own safety, let me deal with this.”
Daphne almost looked like she was about to argue with him again, but then she pressed her lips together and nodded. He waited only long enough to see her face disappear behind the closed door and hear the sound of the lock slamming into place before he turned away, just in time to see the door at the far end of the corridor burst open, more black-clad figures swarming in.
His lion growled low in its throat, all of its razor-sharp teeth bared.
Heath leveled his gun, taking out one of the men before the others knew what was happening. Red misted Heath’s vision. They had charged in here, possibly murdered his co-workers, tried to hurt his mate…
Heath growled, his lion crouching, ready to leap forward and tear these people to pieces.
None of these men would harm Daphne. None of them would ever touch a single hair on her head. The last glimpse he had of her was her face, frightened but determined and brave, and the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And he knew that no matter what, he would protect her. With his life, if he had to.
Snarling with anger, Heath shifted.
Chapter Twelve
Daphne
Daphne sucked in a quick breath of horror as she heard the gunshots ring out from the hallway. She’d done what Heath had told her and closed and locked the door – although leaving him was the last thing she’d wanted to do, she realized that having her in danger was the last thing Heath needed right now. She’d only be a distraction and cause more danger for them both.
Nonetheless, Daphne wasn’t sure how long she could stand to stay here, having no idea what was going on – not knowing if Heath was hurt, or even…
No. Don’t think like that.
Daphne cut off the thought quickly. Heath had said he’d protect her, and she believed him. He was so big and strong, she found it hard to believe that anyone could hurt him.
And he can turn into a lion.
Daphne swallowed. That might be true, but not even lions could survive bullets.
Closing her eyes, she tried to breathe deeply and evenly. No matter what, she had to keep her head. She tried to remember all the things Heath had told her about shifters: that they healed faster than regular humans, and that they were stronger and could take more punishment. A wound would hurt them, but something that might be serious for a human wouldn’t be so bad for a shifter.
That was good, Daphne thought.
Unless the people who were attacking the building were also shifters.
Heath hadn’t said so, but she knew they had both been thinking it. The moment Heath had reported to Sandra that he thought some bad news shifters had come to town, this had happened. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but she didn’t think so. Daphne didn’t really believe in coincidences – not like this, anyway. It seemed impossible that such a well-run organization as Assured Security could be caught so completely off-guard, but then…
… Daphne shivered as she recalled the cold, dark look in Denny’s eyes as he’d spoken to her in the break room. Sandra and Heath had said that he was in charge of keeping an eye on the criminal activity here. Could he have… was it possible…?
Once again, Daphne forced herself to push the thought away. She was getting ahead of herself. The only thing she could do right now was try to keep her wits about her, and wait for Heath. It was completely pointless to speculate about things right now.
Looking around the room, Daphne’s eyes fell on the paring knife on the table. It was only small, but Daphne could see it was razor sharp. She picked it up, clenching her fist around it, before turning it over in her palm and hiding it in her sleeve.
Maybe it wouldn’t do much for her. Certainly, she’d never been trained in knife fighting, or anything even slightly similar. But she had taken a lot of self-defense classes, and one of the things she’d always been told was to use whatever was at hand to protect herself.
Licking her lips, Daphne steeled herself. Whatever Heath said, she didn’t think she could just sit around in here for much longer. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she gave him another five minutes.
Being passive was not something she was good at. It was true, there were men with guns out there. But could she really just sit in here doing nothing, while Heath fought all of them off?
Gritting her teeth, Daphne cursed herself for not grabbing her purse as they left. Perhaps if she had her cell phone she could have called 911, if someone hadn’t done that already. It seemed unlikely that they hadn’t, but even doing that would have been better than sitting here, doing nothing. At least then she could have felt like she was doing at least something to help.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
She hated feeling so helpless. But she forced herself to look again at the large red bloodstain on the floor to remind herself that whoever they were dealing with had no qualms whatsoever about shooting people. Putting herself in danger wouldn’t help anybody.
Staying exactly where Heath – the expert in these situations – had told her to stay wasn’t being helpless. It was being sensible. It was protecting Heath by making sure he wouldn’t throw himself between her and any more bullets. Which Daphne had absolutely no doubt he would do without a second thought.
She would do the same for him in a heartbeat, but given that he was bigger, stronger and faster than her, Daphne was pretty sure he’d beat her to the punch. The idea of him being seriously injured because she couldn’t do what he’d asked her to do made her heart thump in her chest.
Clenching her fists, Daphne forced herself to sit.
Now that the initial rush of adrenaline was over, she felt sick to her stomach – Heath was out there, maybe fighting for his life. She had no idea what was going on. Her legs felt like jelly. She could feel something that felt perilously close to a sob rising in her throat, and ruthlessly, she pushed it down.
There would be time for that later.
Any moment now, Heath would be back. He’d pull her into his arms. He’d tell her they were safe. Then she could cry all she liked.
Biting her lip, Daphne held onto this image. She imagined the warmth of Heath’s skin. He’d be back soon. She knew he would.
She was jerked out of this mantra by the sound of a loud bang, coming from somewhere across the room. Daphne jumped, startled, looking around wildly. She touched the paring knife in her sleeve, but before she could do anything, there was another loud bang
– followed by a strange, almost slithering sound.
Standing slowly, her heart pounding, Daphne turned to face the direction of the sound. There was a vent in the wall – she realized quickly that that was where the bang had come from. She was about to start easing the knife slowly from her sleeve, but stopped, gasping, as she watched the slats of the vent slowly beginning to bend outwards, as if being pushed from within.
A moment later, the vent had been snapped away from the wall, plaster and paint crumbling as it was tossed aside. As Daphne stared, a man’s arm appeared from inside the vent – and in its hand, it held a gun.
His face appeared a second later. Daphne recognized the dark eyes and greasy black hair immediately: Denny.
Although he was climbing out of the vent, he still kept the gun trained on her at every moment, his cruel eyes never leaving her. Daphne could feel the weight of the knife in her palm, but she knew that he could shoot her before she was even halfway across the room.
But then again…
If the aim was to ransom her, then she was more valuable to them alive than dead.
Daphne bit her lip as Denny crawled fully out of the vent, standing in front of her. He was naked, but she barely noticed. She was staring at his face.
Did the ransom even make sense anymore?
Daphne’s thoughts were wild. No ransom was worth the havoc Denny – or whoever he was working with – had wrought here. It defied belief that they’d go to so much trouble just to get her.
They had to have some other motive.
“Where’s Heath?” she blurted quickly, before she had a chance to think.
Denny shrugged. “Dead. Obviously.”
Daphne’s breath caught in her throat. Her brain refused to process what she was hearing.
No. No. It’s not true.
For a moment, she felt like the world was drifting away from her, her surroundings taking on an air of unreality.
If Heath was dead, then nothing in the world made sense anymore.
“I don’t believe you,” she heard herself say, though her voice sounded as if it were coming from very far away – almost as if someone else entirely had spoken.
Denny shrugged. “Believe me or don’t. I don’t give a shit. But right now, you’re coming with me.”
Daphne stared at him as he approached, his gun trained on her. She wondered if she would have a chance to get the knife from her sleeve, but Denny’s gaze never wavered. And the lesson that every self-defense class she’d ever taken had always been clear on was that if he had a gun, do everything you’re told. Fighting back and failing was not worth the consequences.
But if Heath is dead… Daphne felt hopelessness rise in her chest. If that were true, then what was the point? He was her mate. Without him…
No. Stop that. It’s not true. Denny is lying.
Daphne wasn’t sure how, but something in her heart told her that if Heath was really dead, she would know. She’d be able to sense it somehow. They were connected in a way she didn’t understand, but she knew it had something to do with their mated bond.
Heath might be injured – perhaps even badly. But he was alive.
She had to believe that.
All she needed to do now was try to buy enough time for them to find each other, somehow. She had to make Denny think that she believed him, and she was complying with what he wanted.
“Don’t shoot me,” she said, her voice wobbling a little. “Please. I’ll do anything.”
Denny chuckled, low and sinister, but he didn’t answer her. Instead, he moved around behind her, faster than she’d seen anyone move before. Suddenly, his arm wrapped itself around her shoulders, pressing slightly upward against the base of her throat.
He might have been wiry, but Denny was stronger than he looked. Daphne gasped, surprised at his iron grip.
“Come on. Move. We’re walking out of this room together.”
He pushed her forward. Daphne swallowed, but walked with him to the door.
“Unlock it.”
She did as she was told. The small paring knife was still pressed against her right arm, and she fumbled a little using her left.
“Hurry up. Come on,” Denny demanded, squeezing her a little in his shockingly strong grip.
He shoved her through the door and out into the corridor. His gun briefly left the side of her head to point first left and then right, as he checked that the coast was clear.
Daphne’s knees wobbled a little as she noticed a body slumped against the far wall. There was more blood on the floor that she was sure hadn’t been there before.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, as Denny edged her along the hallway, away from the body.
Denny didn’t answer her. Daphne swallowed. She knew it was dangerous, but she realized that he must be keeping her with him like this for a reason – if he’d wanted her dead, he could have done it easily by now. Instead, he’d decided she would be his hostage.
“Does the ransom mean that much to you?” she asked him, trying to needle him into a response.
“Heh.” Denny’s laugh was small and cruel. “Do you really think I’d go to this much trouble for one shitty ransom? You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you.”
Okay. So she’d been right. This wasn’t about ransoming her.
“Why do it, then?” she asked as they made their way slowly toward the bend in the hallway. The direction that Heath had told her the service entrance was in.
Denny didn’t respond for a moment. Then he let out a frustrated breath. “You wouldn’t understand.” His voice was harsh. “This is shifter business – you have no idea.”
Daphne blinked. Shifter business? Could it be that Denny had some grudge against Assured Security, seeing as it was run and staffed almost entirely with shifters? But he worked here too. She bit her lip. “I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. You humans don’t know anything about anything. And yet, Hector and Sandra and the rest of the idiots here go out of their way to protect you. It’s moronic. It’s been maddening, watching them all fall over themselves to look after inferior beings this whole time.”
Things finally slotted into place. Thinking quickly, Daphne realized what Denny was confessing to: he’d never been a real employee of Assured Security. He’d only been a mole, sent to work here and learn how they operated. And then, when the time was right…
Daphne licked her lips. She wondered how long this raid on Assured Security had been in the planning.
“It wasn’t meant to be like this, though,” Denny snarled, his breath hot against her ear, making her shudder. “I had Sandra and Hector eating out of the palm of my hand. It was only when your stupid boyfriend insisted that they look more closely at shifter operations that we realized we’d have to move now, if we wanted to move at all.”
“So… you lied,” Daphne said. “Heath was right. There are shifter criminals working in the city.”
Denny laughed, flat and cruel. “I told them to stick to what they knew – shaking down businesses, drug dealing, gun running. Trying to ransom you was a fucking stupid idea from the start.”
She couldn’t disagree there. The failed kidnapping attempt had been what started this whole thing. Perhaps if she hadn’t been Heath’s mate he might not have been so persistent in his belief that something was amiss; in his insistence that Sandra investigate why the eagle shifter had appeared at her house, when there weren’t supposed to be any shifter criminal gangs here.
Daphne felt a sudden surge of warm pride. Heath had been right. His instincts had been dead on.
But in the next second, cold horror replaced it. She felt sick. Did that mean, then, that she had been the cause of this? After all, she had been the one who had caught the criminals’ attention. And she had been the one who’d called Assured Security.
Maybe it wasn’t her fault, exactly, but it had been her actions that had done this. And now, maybe, Heath was…
No.
Aga
in, she cut her thoughts off quickly.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, commanding her voice not to shake as she forced herself to stop thinking. Heath was alive. He had to be.
Denny paused before answering. “Well, I wanted you as a bit of insurance, in case that idiotic mate of yours showed up. But it seems like he really is dead after all.”
Daphne’s heart was in her throat. She knew it – Denny had been lying before. He didn’t know Heath was dead. But he had a point, too. If Heath was still alive, where was he? She knew he’d protect her. Every fiber of her being knew it. But if he wasn’t here… even if Heath wasn’t dead, could he be too injured to move? Could he be dying somewhere?
Daphne’s head spun. She couldn’t think anymore.
“But in that case, it seems like I don’t need you anymore,” Denny said, snickering.
Daphne couldn’t say that she thought before she moved. She understood Denny’s words immediately. Now that he didn’t need her as a hostage, he was going to kill her. Adrenaline suddenly surged through her. Maybe it would do her no good – but if he was going to kill her, then she wasn’t going without a fight.
Feeling the paring knife in her palm, she swiftly drew it down from her sleeve. Then she slammed it backward with all of her strength, burying it in Denny’s side.
He howled. It wasn’t nearly enough to wound him seriously, but the surprise and pain made him slacken his grip momentarily, allowing Daphne to slip free. Ahead of her was the long stretch of corridor that led to the service entrance, but it was too far for her to run before Denny recovered himself.
Glancing over her shoulder, Daphne could see a glass door, shattered and swinging open. Beyond was a dark room, filled with rows of servers, cables, and blinking lights.
Turning on her heel, Daphne sprinted for it. It was large and dark. She could evade Denny in there, and then try to escape while he looked for her.
“You crazy –”
She heard Denny’s voice behind her, and then a gunshot. Instinctively, she ducked, almost anticipating the pain of being hit, but it didn’t come.