insistence on confidentiality. Quillan was a great cop and as far as I was concerned, we needed him. I needed him. “Quillan?” Zara questioned like her brain had decided to take a vacation…and at the most inopportune moment, I might add. The vamp grabbed hold of her arm, and she screamed out against him in a terrified panic. I didn't get a chance to respond.
“Already here, Dulce.” Quillan's familiar voice came from directly behind me and my entire body relaxed. I didn't have any time to figure out how he'd gotten here or when or where the hell he'd been hiding. I was too overcome with the pleasure of having him at my back, knowing how much easier it would be to take these miscreants down.
He took a few steps forward until he was parallel with me, and I could smell his Tommy Bahama aftershave. Holy Hades, I'd missed him.
“Let Zara go,” he said in his “don't screw with me” voice.
The vamp looked like he'd enjoy sinking his fangs into Quillan's neck but he released Zara’s arm. Zara didn't need another clue that she'd nearly been the beast's main entree and turned on her stiletto heel, the sound of the door slamming behind her like music to my ears. The Ford started up and screeched from the driveway.
Zara was safe. And Quillan was here. The night was looking up.
“It's good to see you, Quill,” I offered, keeping my gaze trained on the vamp. “Can you keep the vamp and the gnome occupied while I cuff Pudgy?”
He didn’t answer so I glanced behind me and found Quillan's Op 7 aimed directly between my eyes.
“Sorry, Dulce, but no.”
NINETEEN
With Quillan's gun pointed between my eyes, I really wanted to believe he just had bad aim. But, unfortunately, the facts in this case were starting to align like the planets. The potions in the vault at Headquarters hadn’t been destroyed because Quillan was selling them to these idiots. All this time Quillan had been the in. How freaking stupid had I been? Well, if I managed to live through this, one thing I knew for sure was that I wouldn’t doubt myself again. It was a lesson I’d much rather have learned from an after-school special.
“Quillan?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Drop your weapon, Dulcie.”
Though I sensed a slight quake in his voice, the steel set of his eyes warned me not to argue or even try and pull a fast one on him. He knew me well enough to know the gamut of emotions running through my mind.
I didn't drop my Op 6, but Pudgy took it upon himself to step out from underneath the barrel of the gun with a satisfied smile, and I begrudgingly allowed him to. Then his smile turned ugly, and his eyes pinched at the ends as amusement fled his expression, giving way to anger.
He slammed his fist into my lower abdomen. Pain seared through me as though he'd shredded my intestines rather than just sucker-punched me. I reeled back, hitting the wall and gripped my stomach. The pain became too intense, and I succumbed, sliding down the wall to the ground.
Where the hell was Knight?
Pudgy pulled his leg back like he was about to lay his boot in my stomach, where he'd just introduced his fist but Quillan grabbed him. “You lay one more finger on her, and I'll kill you myself,” he said, the truth of his words echoed in the ire of his eyes.
Pudgy hesitated, his boot issuing plenty of warning of its own as it hovered beside my still upset stomach. But, then he backed away, apparently wanting no quarrel with Quillan and started for the opposite side of the room. I sat up and leaned against the wall, cradling my bruised gut as I took deep breaths. The bastard had landed a good shot.
“Dulcie, get up,” Quillan said, and I glanced up to find his gun still aimed at me. Any relief I'd encountered fled like a thief in the night as soon as I remembered I still had Quillan to deal with. I took one last deep breath and forced myself to my feet even though my stomach roiled against the insult.
“Kill her now,” the vamp said.
I glared daggers at him, but they just bounced off him like water on a freshly waxed car. Now that he was in a position of power, his true surliness was coming through. I'd figured he'd be a difficult one. Bastard.
“The Kragengen needs to feed,” the gnome said, raising his chin in my direction as if to say I should assume the role of first course.
I eyed the creature, and it began drooling at the mention of its next feeding. I couldn't help but imagine its multiple teeth grating away at my flesh. I glanced back at Quillan. “You better kill me first.”
“No one is feeding you to the Kragengen,” Quillan snapped, then eyed the others as if to reiterate his point. “I'm taking her into the bedroom so you three hang tight.” They chuckled at the mention of the bedroom. Quillan started forward then paused, turning to face them again. “I mean it. No one leaves this room.”
“Save a little for us,” the gnome called out.
I flipped him off before Quillan grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and pushed me down the hall, unceremoniously thrusting me into the bedroom and closing the door behind him.
“Goddamit, Dulcie,” he admonished. “Talk about nearly blowing my cover.”
“Your cover?” I repeated angrily; how freaking dumb did he think I was?
A small smile skipped across his lips and he shook his head, apparently at my stupidity. “You didn’t actually think I was guilty did you?”
Um, yeah I had and I still thought he was guilty, but the A.N. C motto was innocent until proven guilty. Guess I could give him the chance to explain.
“Okay, so what the hell are you doing working undercover on a case like this by yourself? Have you lost your mind?”
He kept his eyes on the door but that smile wouldn’t leave his lips. “This was a tough case to break, Dulce, so I did what I thought best.” He paused and then brought his attention to the window behind me. “Climb out the window and I’ll think of something to tell them.”
“I’m not leaving you here to tackle this alone. I’m staying,” I said, knowing the time for mindlessly believing in Quillan was long gone.
He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
I was quiet as I reasoned with myself not to let my anger get the best of me. No, I would be level-headed and calm, cool and collected. “Quillan, look at me,” I said in a small voice. If I was a terrible liar, Quillan was just as bad. This would be the test that would tell the Hades-honest truth.
When he turned to face me, it was like he was moving in slow motion. And when his eyes met mine, his pupils were wide.
“Are you lying to me?”
He didn’t need to answer. The slight twitch in his left eye was answer enough. I lashed out and smacked him across the face with the palm of my hand.
“I thought I was your friend, Quillan.”
He gritted his teeth, but I didn't think his frustration or anger had anything to do with the fact that I'd just slapped him. He kept his gun trained on my forehead, and the red of my slap burned an imprint on his cheek. His jaw was tight. “I like to think we had more than a friendship, Dulcie.”
I wouldn't admit anything. Not when whatever I'd thought we had was as fragile as a balloon and Quillan was playing the role of the needle. “Whatever we had, Quillan, it's long gone now,” I said in a small voice. I swallowed against the tears that suddenly threatened my eyes.
I would not cry.
I would focus on the facts of this case and figure the damned thing out. It was all I had left. “So, all those illegal potions I found in the vault at Headquarters…you never intended to destroy them because you were selling them all along.”
“How did you get in there? How did you know about…”
“Never mind that now,” I interrupted, holding up my hand to silence him. I stared at the black stains on the beige carpet, questions swarming through my mind like flies on a carcass.
