Never Cry Wolf (Night Watch #4)(23)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“I’m sorry, lady, but you’re worth more dead than you are alive.”

“No, I’m not.” Her hands tightened on the table. She could heave it at him, but then what? He was blocking the door and she wasn’t armed. “I’m actually worth even more if you can bring me in alive.”

He blinked and his hand stopped inching toward the holster.

She almost took a deep breath then.

But old Bruce just shook his head. “Bullshit, but nice try.” Then his hand went to his hip.

Her body tensed in anticipation of the bullet, but he just grabbed the cuffs on his waist. “ ’Fraid you’ll be coming with me.”

Because he wasn’t going to shoot her there. Relief had her face flushing. So she had a few more minutes to live. A good thing, right? Where was Lucas? Bruce crept close to her, nice and slow. “Hold out your hands.”

She put them out but said, “If you cuff me, won’t that mess up your whole she-was-running-story?”

“Nah, you’ll lose the cuffs before you die.” He kicked the chair out of the way and snapped the cold metal cuff around her wrist. “But if I get blood all over this room, the captain will freak.”

She wasn’t stupid. This was a game she knew. “He’ll also want to know why the hell you were in here alone with a suspect. He’ll want to know why no one was observing the interrogation, he’ll want to know where my lawyer—” She broke off, her breath hissing out as the second cuff snapped too tightly around her wrist, digging deep into the flesh.

“We can do this two ways.” His mouth was at her ear. “A quick bullet in the head so you don’t feel any pain . . .”

She could barely feel her fingers now thanks to those cuffs. “Or we can do this long and slow . . . I’ll make sure you die, but I can make sure you suffer, too.”

Wasn’t he a prince? She swallowed and wrenched back a step, the better to see into his eyes. “I’m someone’s daughter, too, you know, ass**le.”

His eyes widened just a bit at that.

A rap sounded at the door. “Hey, Langston!” The door swung open and a red-haired female cop poked her head inside. “You ready to transfer her to the safe house?”

The safe house? What? Was that a fun new euphemism for the cemetery?

Bruce the Bastard shook his head. “She doesn’t want to come willingly, Shirley. I’m putting her in protective custody.”

Shirley shoved the door all the way open. “What?” Her gaze raked Sarah. “You barely survived this attack, and you don’t want the cops to help you?”

“Two ways,” Bruce whispered, far too quietly for Shirley to hear.

Shirley shook her head. “You’re so addicted to Simone that you’d let him kill you?”

Now this was a question she could handle. “I don’t have to worry about Lucas hurting me.” Her head turned and her gaze zeroed in on Bruce. “I’m not the one he’d come after.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he grabbed her elbow. “Come on. This is for your own protection.” He dragged her toward the door, right past Shirley.

Help me, Sarah mouthed and the female cop nodded. “We will, ma’am. We’ll help you, if you just give us the chance.”

Shit.

Bruce’s fingers bit into her flesh. Guess that meant she’d be dying by option number two. The slow, painful death he’d promised.

So what did she have to lose? “He’s going to kill me, Shirley.”

Bruce double-timed his pace.

“No, he won’t, Ms. King! We’ll keep you safe!” Shirley called out, voice like some chirpy bird. “You don’t have to worry about Simone!”

If only.

“One more word,” Bruce muttered in her ear, “and I’ll break every bone in your body before you die.”

Nice. Her mouth snapped shut, and her eyes rose to the crest hanging just above the exit door: To Serve and Protect.

Probably should have read to maim and kill.

Then they were outside. She tripped once on the steps. When she fell, Sarah managed to rip open the knee of her jeans and she felt the wet warmth of her blood. Lucky for her, Bruce was there to haul her back up—and then after a few more stumbling steps, he shoved her into the back of a patrol car.

But, right before he slammed the door, Sarah heard the sweetest sound in the world.

The howl of a wolf.

Bruce heard it, too, because she saw the cop stiffen. Then he rushed forward and jumped into the front of the patrol car.

She slammed her cuffed hands on the dividing screen that separated them. “You heard the howl, didn’t you, ass**le?”

He revved the engine, and the motor growled.

“Know what it means?” she gritted. “It means you’re the one who needs to worry about dying tonight.”

The car raced onto the road. Bruce drove way too fast, weaving in and out of traffic.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” But an edge of fear had snaked into his words. “That howl could have been from the wolf who’s coming to collect your body.”

Rafe was coming? “That wasn’t Rafe’s howl.” But what about one of his men? No, he wouldn’t risk sending one of them. Not to her. Rafe wouldn’t come close to her and neither would his wolves. But Lucas . . .

Bruce turned off the main road with a squeal of his tires. They were in a long, dark alley now. The perfect place to die. He was still driving too fast. Way too fast.

She slammed her fists into the screen once more. “That howl meant the wolves are coming after you!”

And she saw it then, the fast, dark streak of an animal running in front of the squad car. A wolf.

“Shit!” Bruce’s yell, and he yanked the wheel to the right. The car’s fender slammed into a big, green dumpster and Sarah’s head smacked into the screen.

The world went a quick shade of gray as pain blasted through her head. She blinked a few times, and touched her head—no blood. Well, that was something.

“Get out!”

Her head craned to the right. Bruce had her door open. His gun pointed right at her. “Get out!” He yelled again.

He thought he’d pull her out and kill her? Because it had to look like she’d run, right? “Make me, ass**le,” she dared.

He lunged forward and grabbed her arm.

A low, fierce growl vibrated in the air. Then . . .

“You don’t want to do that,” Lucas said. “Because if you hurt her, I’ll have to rip you open.”