They walked in like characters from one of those old mobster movies, four big-ass shifters, two strapped and one drugged almost out of his mind. The other moved with a slow swagger because he knew exactly how this episode would end.
“Took you long enough,” Kensington said. He was the first to move toward the center of the room where Sabar had stopped walking.
“I’m here, now where’s my shit?” Sabar asked, his voice slurring on that last word.
Kensington’s head tilted as if he, too, were questioning Sabar’s stability. Darel knew Sabar was wondering what the hell was going on, had been for the last few days. He’d found a good bit of humor in the turn of circumstances himself.
“You okay?” was Kensington’s question.
Sabar went to take a step forward, probably thinking to get in Kensington’s face, maybe threaten the guy again, possibly scare him a little.
Not.
Tonight was definitely not Sabar’s night. Inside Darel there was a flicker of regret for what he knew was about to come. On the outside there was a smile, like a dying ember in Darel’s dark cavernous form.
“I’m fuckin’ … fuck … I’m fine. Where’s my shit?” This time when Sabar went to take a step his legs gave out.
Before he could hit the ground, Palermo was behind him, catching Sabar in his arms. When Sabar looked up it was into Palermo’s face. Darel knew the moment recognition hit Sabar.
“This guy’s a joke, man. Get him out of here,” Sidney said. “I’m not doing business with no druggie.”
“You’re doing this deal,” Kensington said, using both his hands to push Sidney back as the younger man had already started for the door. “Part of that money’s mine and I’m not letting it walk away just because this fool decided to get high before he got here. You got the money?” he asked Darel over his shoulder.
Darel put down the briefcases he carried. He lay them both flat on the floor, flicking the clips that held them closed and pushing the tops open one at a time.
“What the fuck?” Kensington said the moment he saw what was inside.
“I told you! I told you!” Sidney yelled, breaking away from Kensington and rushing toward the door.
“Let him go. I’ll need him later,” Darel said with a look to Palermo.
“Crates are already in the truck,” Palermo, the Rogue shifter, told him.
“Good. Tie him up,” Darel told Black. “And kill him,” he told Palermo, nodding toward Sabar.
The shifter smiled, an evil grin spanning the width of his face. “With pleasure.”
“You … you sonofabitch…,” Sabar whispered. “All of you fucking basta…” The words were lost as he began to choke. It looked like on his own vomit.
“What the hell is going on here?” Kensington asked as his arms were pulled behind his back.
“I’ve got a message for Slakeman and anybody else who wants to know who’s running things around here,” Darel said, setting the timer on each of the briefcases in front of him.
“Wait! Wait!” Kensington argued. “We can work something out. I don’t have to report this to Slakeman. We can fix this! I can work it out!”
“You can die like the lying piece of shit you are,” Darel spat. He was about to turn and leave the room when Sabar shifted, his cat jumping immediately onto four legs. It lunged for Darel, who didn’t hesitate to shift himself. Now the two beasts faced each other, finally. This little standoff had been brewing with them for a few weeks now, ever since they’d fought the Faction Leader and his COs, when Sabar had basically ordered Darel to die while waiting for medical treatment. The arrival of Bianca and Sabar’s immediate fixation and shift of loyalty to her was the last straw. From that moment on Darel had known the two of them would never be the same again. Only one of them could walk out of this warehouse breathing tonight. And it wasn’t going to be Sabar.
When Sabar’s cat came up on its hind legs to swipe at Darel, shots rang out. Sabar’s cat took two in the upper quadrant and fell on its front paws with a thump. Two more bullets went into its flanks from one side, one gun. On the other side, another gun fired off two more rounds into the cat, until it lay still on the floor, blood quickly forming in a pool beneath it.
Darel watched the slow, labored heaving of the cat he’d once followed, the man he’d thought could bring him the salvation he wanted. He should have listened to his mother’s warnings. She’d said to never put your faith in a man, to not idolize a man as his god. Darel should have never idolized Sabar, should have never followed him blindly. But he had, because Sabar had been the only one there for him when he needed it most. Life changed, people changed, shifters turned, and women, like Bianca, who knew their worth always played the odds.
“Holy shit!” Kensington gasped.
The breathy words caught everyone’s attention.
Darel was still in cat form, Black and Thunder stood on either side of Sabar, while Palermo looked down on the cat, his gun still in hand. All three guns were instantly aimed at Kensington who, because he hadn’t been completely tied up before Sabar’s strike, had drawn his own weapon and was now pointing it directly at Sabar.
Thunder fired off one round, the bullet piercing through the wrist that held the gun. It clattered to the floor as Kensington grabbed his wrist, howling and screaming like a newborn baby. Darel jumped at that moment, catching the man completely off guard, knocking his large frame off balance. When they hit the floor Kensington tried to squirm away, but it was futile. Darel’s teeth were already digging into the man’s skin, clamping down at the base of his neck. He held on for endless seconds then finally pulled away, letting the blood drip from his teeth as he moved back over to the briefcases. Through the cat’s eyes it saw the red blur of numbers, heard a chirping.
“Yeah, we should get the hell out of here now,” Black said to him.
Palermo, the shifter that had come to him on loan from Bianca, looked down at his cat. “Let’s go. I’ve got an unmarked truck downstairs with all the ammo in it.”
Darel’s cat head moved, a chuffing sound slipping from its mouth. He was just about to shift back into human form when there was a loud roar and two cats came running into the room.
Chapter 29
At the sound of gunshots, X had taken the stairs two at a time. He was just pulling open the door to the second floor when he saw a cat charging down the hallway. Behind him were two shadow guards, guns aimed at the cat, bullets flying.
He instantly put an arm back behind him to block Caprise but she wasn’t there. As he looked back trying to see past the guards on his team, he didn’t glimpse her.
“There!” Zach yelled, pointing past X’s shoulder.
Caprise had already shifted and was chasing after the cat that had disappeared into one of the open doorways.
“Fuck!” X yelled, taking off behind her.
Inside the room a window was open, a thick stifling breeze mixing with the stale smell of carpet and air- conditioning. There was no one there. No cat. No Caprise.
Rome and his team came rushing in behind him. “Two down in the other room. Two on foot, they may have shifted by now.”
“Caprise went after the cat,” X said, his chest heaving as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. “They went that way.”
There was a smaller door that looked like it linked the two suites. X took off through the door, heard the growling, and shifted without another thought. Rome had yelled his name but X was too far gone. His mate was in here fighting another cat, hell if he was going to stay in human form and hope for the best.
The moment he entered the other room he saw them, near a window in what looked like a standoff. Caprise’s cat was sleek, her perfectly honed muscles bunching with each step she took. In the dark room her eyes looked like melted honey. Her opponent was a slim cat with a yellow coat and large distinctive rosettes. He watched Caprise carefully, moving only slightly to one side. Caprise followed suit. The male came closer to the
