Wicked Edge

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “No.” Bear returned the phone, his jaw tightening. “She’s a nice girl and not a skank. This was the other night?”

  “Aye,” Daire said. There were many female members of Bear’s club, but in order to stay under the radar and appear like other clubs, nobody knew it. Women were either old ladies, skanks, or visitors to the outside world. To the inside? There were some badass female warriors in Bear’s group, but Tasha looked fairly young and probably wasn’t a full club member. “Any word from her?”

  Bear lifted his head and surveyed his men. “Has anybody heard from Tasha?”

  Nobody stepped forward.

  Well, shit. “We think the prospect disappeared with her the other night.” Daire tried to communicate more.

  “Leads?” Bear asked, fury flowing from him.

  “Not yet. Working on it.” Daire glanced at Pyro.

  Bear stepped toward him. “Does the prospect’s family know he’s missing?”

  “Aye.” Daire bit back a snarl. “They’re here, in fact.”

  Bear winced. “Sorry.”

  It was nice to have a buddy who understood. Dealing with demons wasn’t easy in the best of circumstances. Daire stepped closer to Pyro. “Bear doesn’t know anything, and we need to get out and find our prospect. Let’s go.”

  Pyro waved him off, the stench of smoke and booze pouring off him. He swayed in his battered boots, but determination hardened his jaw. “I promised the boys a good fight, and I figure we’re due. For Duck!” He rushed toward Bear and was instantly taken down by Lucas Clarke, Bear’s top lieutenant.

  The Fire members billowed forward, already throwing punches.

  Lucas wasted no time in flipping Pyro over and smacking his forehead into the concrete. A genuine smile, dark and grim, curved the shifter’s lips when Pyro began to gurgle up blood.

  “I told you not to attack,” Daire muttered.

  Two Fire members ran for Bear, only to be stopped by two angry Grizzly members.

  Bear grabbed Daire’s arm, pivoted, and tackled him through the open door. Daire landed hard with a fucking bear on his chest. His lungs protested, and his ass hurt from smashing onto a wrench. “Get off.”

  Bear kicked shut the door and stood, holding a hand to Daire.

  Daire took the hand and jumped to his feet, rubbing his butt. “Put your damn tools away.”

  “You’re welcome.” Bear reached down and grabbed the wrench to toss it onto the counter. It clanked away and landed on the other side. “Damn it all to hell. Can’t you control those Fire idiots?”

  “Apparently not.” Daire shoved rain off his face.

  Bear sighed. “We have about five minutes until the cops show up.”

  Sirens echoed down the lane.

  “Make that one minute.” Bear hustled for a back door. “Follow me.”

  Daire ducked his head and followed Bear through an office to a garage holding a Bentley, a new Porsche, and a Spyder. “Nice,” he muttered, careful not to touch anything.

  “My mechanics are the best in the Northwest.” Bear ran through a back door to where a couple of bikes were parked. “Take the Harley.” He jumped onto a Victory Gunner.

  A helicopter’s rotors split the rain-filled night, and a beam of light poured down from a police helicopter.

  “Shit.” Bear started the bike and roared toward what looked like a trail.

  Daire followed suit, his head down to avoid the rain.

  The light swept to and from, and he tried to keep to the tree line. Garrett Kayrs had better have gotten clear before the cops showed up.

  Red and blue swirled through the clouds, and the screech of vehicles stopping competed with the helicopter noise. Gunfire pinged through the air.

  Shit. Who was shooting? Pyro had completely lost it. If Daire could get him alone, he might be able to finally get a line on both the distributor and manufacturer of Apollo. Or maybe it was time to just torture the club leader for information.

  Daire followed Bear down a narrow path, ducking several times to avoid tree branches. Wind whipped into him, and the rain traced a chilly path down his neck and underneath his cut. He thought about using fire to warm up, but the helicopter might see the flames and investigate. Adrenaline flowed through his veins, and the need to get back home to Cee Cee compressed his lungs. Instinct bellowed for him to return and shield her.

  The path wound around trees and bushes for several miles, finally ending up at a logging road halfway up a mountain.

  An SUV blocked the road, and Detective Alexandra Monzelle leaned against the passenger side door, gun out and pointed at them. Rain matted her no-nonsense blond hair to her head, and her eyes glowed a dark blue through the darkness. She was small and lean . . . and knew how to shoot. She was also mated to Kellach, but that didn’t guarantee any cooperation, unfortunately. She’d shot him a couple of times, Daire was fairly certain.

  Bear rolled to a stop first, and Daire followed suit, both cutting their engines.

  “Welcome back,” Daire drawled, twisting his neck to look inside the vehicle. Empty. Good. She’d come alone and not with any other cops. “How was Ireland?”

  “Lovely. Your aunt sends her love.” Alexandra jerked her head. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Bear rested his arms on his handlebars. “Want to tell me how you even know this road exists?”

  She eyed him. “I memorized every escape road within miles when I was investigating you.”

  Bear grinned, flashing a dimple. “I think you’re still crushing on me, Detective.”

  Daire rolled his eyes. “Bear, now isn’t the time to set yourself up for a death match with Kellach.”

  “Ah, but she’d be worth it.” Bear winked.

  Alexandra tightened her hold on the gun. “I’d prefer not to shoot you, Bear.”

  “Sounds like foreplay to me,” the bear retorted.

  Man, he really wanted to get shot. Weren’t most bears a honey pot away from insanity? Daire shook his head. The woman was as close to a sister-in-law as possible in his world, and while he had enough to deal with, he still felt concern. Though she’d mated Kellach, and her chromosomal pairs would increase to those of a mate and grant immortality, that took time. Right now, she was vulnerable. “Alexandra, you were shot way too recently. How are you?”

  “Already healed,” she said.

  Good. Daire cleared his throat. “You should have a partner or backup.”

  She sniffed. “If I had backup, I’d be cuffing you and putting you in the back of the SUV. This way we can have a nice chat, and you can try to convince me not to cuff your asses.” She smiled, her aim staying true. “Give it a shot.”

  “You can do whatever you want with my ass.” Bear chuckled. “I think I love you.”

  Aye. Bear was nuts. Daire dug deep for patience yet once again. “Does Kellach know you’re out here alone?”

  She released the safety on the gun.

  Daire bit back a sharp retort. Something caught his eye. He twisted his head. “Is that a diamond?”

  She blushed. “Yes.”

  He smiled. “You’re engaged.”

  “Yes. So please don’t make me shoot you.” She held out her left hand and turned it to reveal a diamond surrounded by emeralds.

  Man, she was tough. He nodded. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” she huffed.

  Bear winced. “I think you could do better.”

  Daire reached over and punched him in the arm. He could let his friend get away with only so much. “Stop hitting on my brother’s woman.”

  “Your brother’s what?” Alexandra hissed.

  Shit. He’d forgotten the cop didn’t like archaic language and was just fine with shooting members of his family. Or Bear. She’d even shot Bear at one time. Daire had forgotten that fact. “You know what I meant.”

  Bear grinned and shook his shaggy hair. “No, Daire. Tell the lady with the gun what you meant.”

  That was it. He was going to have to kill Bear.
“Alexandra, I have to get back to the penthouse, and it’s life or death.”

  “It’s always life or death, and you’re not going anywhere until you both explain what’s going on,” she said, not moving an inch.

  Daire glared at the barrel. Though a bullet wouldn’t kill him, it would hurt like hell and slow him down. He could leap over the handlebars and take the weapon, but that would just make Kellach mad. “Fine. Logan was with one of Bear’s members before disappearing, and I made the colossal mistake of showing the picture of the pretty redhead to Pyro. He figured it was time to avenge his nephew and wage war.”

  “Kellach said that Logan had disappeared, and that’s why I headed down to the station early. But there wasn’t any information about missing prospects or anything interesting that happened around the bar where he disappeared.” Alexandra frowned. “Why is Pyro attacking now? Bear didn’t have anything to do with Duck’s murder.”

  “I know, but Pyro is not thinking clearly.” Daire eyed his cell phone. “I really have to go.”

  “Wait a minute. You said the woman with Logan had red hair.” Alexandra asked slowly, “What does the woman look like?”

  Bear stiffened. “Why do you ask?”

  “We have a head with red hair at the morgue. I just checked in and was assigned the case immediately,” she responded.

  Daire brought up the picture and handed the phone over the front of his bike. “You’ve only been back a couple of hours.”

  “It’s my job, and I’m good at it.” She glanced down, made the picture brighter, and sighed. “We have a redhead in the morgue.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry, Bear. We actually have her head but haven’t recovered the body yet. It’s definitely her.”

  Bear growled, losing every inch of his teasing persona and showing the predator he usually kept veiled. “Where was her head discovered?”

  “It was found in a garbage can outside of a restaurant on the north side. All the way across the city from the bar where she and Logan disappeared.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Time of death?” Bear asked.

  “We don’t know yet.” Alexandra handed back the phone and holstered her weapon.

  Bear rubbed rain from his face. “Was her head ripped off or cut off?”

  “Cut off with a blade. Surgical precision and immortal strength,” Alexandra returned, all business. But sadness glimmered in her eyes, and once again, Daire could see what had taken his brother to his knees. The woman was tough and sweet, and Kell hadn’t stood a chance.

  Bear half turned toward Daire. “Tasha was one of mine, Daire. Not a warrior, not a soldier, but a nice kid who probably was just hooking up with Garrett for fun. She didn’t deserve to die, and she doesn’t have any other family to avenge her death. If you know who did this, I want in.”

  “I know who did this,” Daire said. The phone buzzed, and Sam’s face came up on the screen. “Sam?” he asked.

  Sam coughed hard. “We, ah, were attacked.” He erupted in a fit of more coughing. “Smoke and drugs,” he gasped.

  Daire gripped the phone. “Felicity?”

  “She was taken.”

  Chapter 28

  Felicity coughed herself awake and sat up in a cushioned bed. Her lungs ached and her head swam. Whatever they’d pumped into her veins had taken hold and lasted far too long. Her mouth tasted like she’d eaten coal, and no saliva wet her tongue.

  She tried to focus, but her head lolled on her neck.

  A glass of water near the bed caught her eye. She reached for it, her fingers fumbling and almost knocking it over.

  God, she needed that water.

  Lowering her chin, she reached out with both trembling hands and encircled the glass. Slowly, she raised it to her mouth and tipped it back to drink. The second the liquid touched her lips, she lost all control.

  Water cascaded down her throat, over her mouth, and across her chin.

  She didn’t care.

  The second it landed in her stomach, she groaned. Okay. Better. Much better.

  She set down the glass and wiped her chin, allowing her eyes to focus in the dim light. Her head throbbed and her muscles felt lax. She glanced down. Silk bedspread, plush pillows. Fear sizzled through her until she’d patted her arms and looked at her yoga-pants-covered legs.

  Okay. Good. She might be in a bed, but her clothing had remained on. Except for her socks. Her feet were bare.

  Silence surrounded her, deep and pounding. No outside sounds at all penetrated the walls.

  A dim light glowed from the bed table, and she kicked free, trying to stand. Her knees wobbled, and she had to hold on to the bed for several precious moments, trying to regain her strength. Finally, she could stand without falling.

  A door took up the center of a far wall, so she shuffled across plush carpet to reach for the doorknob. The golden knob didn’t even turn. Swallowing, she reached for the light switch on the wall and flicked it up.

  The light slashed pain through her skull, and she winced, closing her eyes. She took in several deep breaths and exhaled, trying to calm her galloping heart. She opened her eyelids enough to let a little light inside. Then, taking her time, she slowly opened them all the way. A deep purple carpet covered the floor and matched the bedding. A feminine dresser and end tables were set in the room. Two doorways led to a walk-in closet and fully appointed bath, also in purple.

  An original oil painting by Juno Dungs above the bed added more vibrancy to the already colorful room. The walls had been painted a muted beige.

  She quickly scoured through the dressers and only found lingerie, yoga pants, and some jeans. More clothes, probably in her size, filled the closet.

  Damn it. There had to be something she could use to pick the lock.

  Staggering only a little, she made it to the bathroom. Typical feminine makeup, all unused, filled the drawers. No bobby pins or nail files. Damn it.

  She searched for a weapon but only found a black eyeliner. So she slid it up her sleeve just in case. Maybe she could use it to poke an eye out. She meandered back into the bedroom and crossed to examine the door.

  As she reached it, the knob turned and it opened inward.

  Ivan Bychkov stepped inside. “Felicity. It is so good to see you.”

  She lost all reason. Yelling, she leaped across the foot separating them and slammed into him, jamming her elbow down on his collarbone. The cartilage cracked with a very satisfying crunch.

  Using his uninjured side, he grabbed her arm, swinging her out and throwing. She spun through the air and landed on the bed, rolling off the other side. Pain lanced up her shoulder. She stood, grasping the bed covers for balance.

  Ivan frowned and rubbed his collarbone. “Good lord, woman. You’re wilder now than you were a century ago.”

  “Thank you,” she said, showing her teeth.

  “That changes and now.” He stood about six-foot-six, long and lean, with stark white blond hair and purebred demon black eyes. To most women, he’d be handsome.

  But she could see all of him, and real evil lived in him. “You know I’m going to kill you, right?” she spat.

  His eyebrows were a light brown, and he drew them down. “I just don’t understand the hostility.”

  She blinked. “Are you kidding?”

  He sighed. “The drug we used will hamper you for a while, and according to my doctors, you need protein and sugar in your system. If you’d please come with me, we’ll get you fed.”

  The guy was crazy. “Where’s my son?”

  “He’s fine and is safely secured in the mine area of the mountain.” Bychkov rocked back on his heels. “The dizziness you’re experiencing can be quelled by a good meal.”

  Okay. So her vision was a little blurry. “What did you drug me with?”

  “A cocktail created by a friend of mine by altering normal tranquilizers.”

  Damn witches and their potions. Of course, that’s exactly how she had drugged Daire. She winced. Man, would Daire be piss
ed that she’d been kidnapped. She stepped around the bed. “Fine. I’ll eat, and then I want to see my son.” At the very least, ingesting protein would help her regain her strength to take on Ivan. “Where am I, any—” She gasped upon entering the hallway.

  Sparkling rock surrounded her, while a long carpet stretched over more rock. “We’re underground,” she breathed.

  “Yes.”

  That explained the quiet. “Where?” she asked, adrenaline heating down her back.

  “On the island,” he said, pivoting on his boot and leading the way.

  Her lungs seized. “On Fryser Island?”

  “The one and only.” He clasped his hands at his back and strode past several closed doorways.

  “We’re at the Sjenerøse mine,” she murmured, tripping and regaining her balance. “How did you get me here?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Once you were knocked out, I teleported you here, of course.”

  Crap. She hadn’t thought of that. Sure, a majority of demons could teleport, but she hadn’t counted on being squired a world away from home. “I can’t teleport.”

  “I know.” He sighed, stopping in front of a silver-plated elevator and pushing a button.

  She hovered near the wall and planted her hand over the sparkles. Many minerals glowed, but a shiny greenish pink one held promise. Obviously not silver or coal. “Is this planekite?” she asked.

  “Yes.” The elevator door swished open and he stood back, gesturing her inside.

  The mineral felt cold and innocuous. It was hard to imagine that something so pretty could actually kill an enforcer with Daire’s strength. Even walking down the hallway would weaken him and subdue his powers.

  Which led to another problem. She turned and stepped into the elevator. “Isn’t this mine only accessible by parachuting in?” Her stomach dropped.

  “And teleporting,” Ivan said, following her and pressing a button near the top. “Every man I have working here has the ability to teleport in and out, just in case of mine failure or attack.”

  Futility slammed into her stomach. Neither she nor Logan could teleport. Hopefully Logan would someday gain the ability; he was young yet. But she’d never have it, and now the only way out of the mining area for them was to climb down a series of frozen mountain slopes to the arctic tundra miles away. They’d face many predators, and she had no interest in going up against wild polar bears ever again.