Never Cry Wolf (Night Watch #4)(25)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“If it makes you feel better . . .” He took the gun from her and tucked it in the back of his jeans. He’d get rid of that for her soon enough and make sure that it never surfaced again. “There was never any chance the guy was making it out of this alley alive.”

They had to hurry. The sun would be up soon. More eyes would be on the streets. And there was always the chance someone had heard that gunshot.

He glanced toward the wolf. The order to Piers still stood. Take care of him. That body wouldn’t be found, and they’d make sure the patrol car was stripped down to nothing.

“He had a daughter,” sadness softened Sarah’s voice. “A family . . .”

Lucas pulled her through the alley. “His daughter died a year ago.”

“Wh-what?”

He jumped onto the motorcycle. “Climb on, and hold tight.” He could feel the wound now, a dull throb in his gut, but he wasn’t looking at the damage. Not now. Get her to safety. Sarah had been in danger enough for one night. “His daughter Kelly died a year ago.”

“You’re sure of that?”

Lucas grunted as he shoved back the kickstand. “I make it my business to know everything about my enemies.” All their strengths and all their weak spots. Little Kelly Langston had died almost twelve months ago, then her mother had packed up and left Bruce.

The cop had already been on the take then. From what Lucas had learned, Bruce had first started taking the bribes to pay for the girl’s medical bills. That’s how it had started but once you started down that road . . .

There was no going back.

The engine roared to life. Her fingers wrapped around his waist, her thighs pressed into his hips.

He turned to look at her once more. Their faces were close, just inches apart. A tear had slid down her cheek and that made the rage inside pulse harder. “You should be harder than you are.”

Her brow furrowed.

“He would have blown us both to hell in an instant.” And Lucas was furious—at the cop, at himself, at her. He didn’t like seeing pain in her eyes. Didn’t f**king like it at all—and that just made him angrier. “Don’t waste tears on him. Don’t waste a f**king moment of your life on him.”

He grabbed the helmet and shoved it onto her head. “Hold on.” He turned away from her, his fingers gripping the handlebars too tightly. The motorcycle jumped forward, and they roared through the night.

Now she had blood on her hands, too. But was it her first kill? I make it a point to know my enemies. Sarah wasn’t an enemy, but he still needed to know everything about her. And soon, he would know . . . everything.

There was no room for secrets between lovers.

Rafael Santiago watched as the motorcycle streaked through the streets. Sarah was clutching tightly to the wolf, holding him as if her life depended on him. In a way, it did.

The cop was dead. Taken down by her hand. Not surprising. Sarah knew how to eliminate threats to herself. He’d seen the hit as he watched carefully through the binoculars. No point in getting too close and letting the others catch his scent. The game shouldn’t end too soon.

All the players weren’t even in place yet.

He turned away from the edge of the roof. People were wrong about wolf shifters. They weren’t all psychotic, wild beasts driven by instinct. Wolves were smart, and they could also be very patient . . . particularly when it came to hunting. Some prey took time and skill to catch. But that was part of the thrill of the hunt. Easy prey didn’t make for a good game.

A few more days, then all would be ready. Lucas had almost revealed a weak spot. Perfect.

Rafe already knew Sarah’s weakness. Knew it, accepted it, but still loved her. After all, wolves mated for life. You didn’t turn away from a lover just because of a weakness.

He took his time heading down the stairs. He’d pay a visit to the coyotes soon. Ortez had promised him that the cop would handle Sarah, but that ass**le human had tried to kill her.

Rafe didn’t want Sarah dead. Punished, not dead.

Coyotes. They had their uses. Greedy, strong . . . but they had their weaknesses. And Jess Ortez—the shifter was a wannabe, playing far out of his league.

Rafe had planned to use Ortez as a distraction, and so far, that plan was working f**king beautifully. Ortez actually thought he’d get this land for his coyotes when the battle was over.

Damn fool.

Good thing Rafe hadn’t aligned with just one coyote group. But then, he’d formed a pact with Hayden O’Connor years ago. And if he wanted Hayden to keep helping him, then he had to give the bastard what he wanted.

Sorry, Ortez, you’re about to visit hell.

The coyote would never even see the danger coming.

It was often hard to see it—especially when your own kind was the one doing the killing.

Steam rose from the bath water, swirling in the air around her. Sarah had her knees drawn up in the water, her arms wrapped tightly around them.

Killed a man.

Not the first time. Not even the second, but unlike Rafe, she’d never been able to turn off her emotions after a kill.

Rafe.

She’d almost felt him tonight. Had he been there? Ready to slice her open?

Her eyes squeezed shut. You had to kill the cop.

Right. No choice. Kill or be killed. That was the way of the wolf, right?

“But I’m not a f**king wolf,” she rasped, and in her mind, she could still see that bloom of red on the cop’s chest.

“No, you’re not.”

Lucas’s hard voice had her eyes flashing open as she shot up in the tub. Water jostled over the side of the old-fashioned bear-claw bathtub. A big tub. Big enough for . . .

Lucas wasn’t wearing a shirt. A white bandage lined his left side. Faded jeans hung low on his hips.

“What are you doing here?” She squeezed her knees tighter.

His gaze raked her. “Don’t you know?”

Her belly clenched. “You’re hurt, you should be . . .”

A shrug. “I don’t even feel it. I dug the bullet out, slapped a bandage on it.” His lips quirked. “The wound will be healed in no time.”

Because blood, pain, and bullets were nothing to a wolf. What was the little matter of death to a beast?

His eyes narrowed on her and Lucas crossed the room in long, slow strides. Stalking me. Goosebumps rose on the flesh of her arms. “Lucas . . .”

He knelt beside the tub. His fingers dipped into the warm water, his knuckles so close to her thigh.

She hunched her shoulders. “I didn’t . . .” Invite you here. “You shouldn’t be here.”