Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct (38 page)

Read Lycan Packs 1: Lycan Instinct Online

Authors: Brandi Broughton

She stepped inside, pressed the button for her floor, and leaned against the back wall, then rolled her head to stretch the tension from her neck muscles.

She could use a shower, a hot relaxing one. Maybe Rafe would forgive her the delay. Then again, maybe she could convince him to join her for a hot bubbly soak in his Olympic-sized tub.

Smiling at the thought, her hand dug for the keys as she approached her door. She slipped the correct one in the lock, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

As the door clicked shut, she flicked the light on.

Her brain leaped into action one second after her eyes focused on the interior.

Her body froze. The envelopes slipped from her lax grasp to scatter on the floor.

She’d found the missing .45 caliber murder weapon.

It was aimed at her heart.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fighting the urge to stare down the barrel of the HK Mark 23 handgun, Mackenzie forced her gaze to meet that of the man who wielded it. She would not ask what Richard Robertson was doing in her apartment, although the stupid words had damn near burst from her mouth the moment she saw him.

Instead, she slowly raised her hands, knowing they’d be worthless in stopping a bullet. Her badge hung like an anchor around her neck. A lot of damn good it did her now when she was unarmed.

“Where’d you take him?” Richard asked.

“Take who?”

“Anthony, damn it. Don’t play fucking games with me. He didn’t come back. I saw the news. You tranq’d him or something. I don’t believe you killed him. No one can kill him. He’s fucking immortal.”

Oh shit
. The man was seriously losing his grasp on reality. His hand shook a bit, and that scared her almost as much as the words he spouted.

“You knew about the wolf?” she asked. Maybe she could buy some time to come up with a plan. “About Anton’s...Anthony’s...ability?” Keep him talking, she thought. Find a way to stop him. To survive.

He blinked, a small smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Of course. Anthony’s going to make me one, as soon as we topple Stone Corp. That was his price. I help him get what he wants—he gives me what I want.” He stepped closer, pointed the gun’s muzzle at her like an accusing finger. “But you... You were supposed to arrest Stone, not fuck the man.”

“You made the video.” She said it with raised brows.

A smile was his only answer.

“You had me fooled,” she said, hoping to draw on his ego. “I mean, you had an alibi.”

“Bernardo’s sister. She’s clueless. Take her out for a little wine and dine, slip her some Liquid Ecstasy, and the girl believes anything you tell her. Ha! She’d even swear on her mother’s grave.”

“You’re a smart one. I’ll give you that.” Let him brag. He had a smug air of superiority about him. “I’d pegged Caprini as running the show, him and his bodyguard, but I was wrong.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “
His
bodyguard? Bernardo works for me, even took out Harden on my orders. You see, I call the shots.”

Somehow she doubted that, since Anton had fooled the man into assisting with a vendetta against Stone by convincing him he could gain immortality.

“Ernesto Caprini was a patsy, an expendable one, if the plan went awry.”

“The plan?” She hoped her confused expression would convince him to explain. Each passing minute was another chance to discover a way out, another sixty seconds she remained alive.

“When my bookie let it slip about Shumaker’s employer, I came up with the plan. It was flawless. We could milk Stone’s clientele for the hell of it first—through his own software—and then let him take the fall if the authorities found out.” His expression soured. “But then that chicken-shit Shumaker thought he could steal the money he owed us and got himself fired. And Harden had to get greedy.”

“And your father...?”

His eyes darkened with anger. When his fingers tightened on the gun, she feared she’d pushed him too far.

“That pathetic excuse for a man. Always spouting grandiose agendas but never willing to take risks. Take a gamble.” With an abrupt laugh, he gestured with the gun, but not enough that she felt comfortable risking an offensive maneuver. “He cut me off when I dropped out of Princeton. The bastard thought that would stop me; make me ‘grow up...get back on the straight and narrow.’ I told him he’d regret it. I warned him. He had no idea how powerful I’d become.” His gaze cleared, as if he’d returned from a foggy trip back in time. “But he recognized it when I shot him. That’s power. Taking a life.”

“Actually, that’s murder, and it’s a crime.”

His smile was pure arrogance. “Shame I missed you at the warehouse. You were to be the victim that would finally convince them to take down Stone.”

“That was you? I thought...”

“Oh, Anthony was there. He doesn’t like to use guns, but if your body showed up shot and mauled like dear old Dad... this time dumped somewhere on Stone’s property?”

She didn’t know whether his look or his words ticked her off more.

“But Anthony wouldn’t risk it when Stone showed up. He took my gun and led you off so I could get away.”

“Then I did shoot him.”

He nodded and grinned. “Then you should know he’s unstoppable. I will be, too, once Anthony fulfills our bargain. So, bitch...time’s up. On your knees. Now!”

She delayed until he yanked her hair, causing her to cry out in pain, and forced her down. The gun pressed to the back of her head.

“Where the hell is he?” His voice rose and with it went her blood pressure. “Answer me, goddammit!”

Oh, God! She was dead if she told him the truth. She was dead if she didn’t.

“I—”

The phone rang.

“Tell me.” He gritted out the order and popped her on the head with the butt of his gun.

What she wouldn’t give to have their positions reversed.

“That’s Rafe,” she said, a bit breathless despite herself. “He’s expecting me. He’ll get suspicious if I don’t answer.”

Richard paused for another ring, then yanked her to her feet. Her moan escaped through gritted teeth.

“Answer it, but one wrong word, and he’ll hear you die.”

She picked up the phone and sucked in a breath that did little to calm her nerves. “Hello?”

“Mackenzie—”

“You’re impatient, wolfman,” she said, purposefully cutting him off and using the nickname she’d given him. If Richard didn’t already know Rafe was a ‘werewolf’, she’d make sure he did now. “I’m on my way to the restaurant. Are you so hungry you can’t wait for me to change out of this god-awful blue jumpsuit?”

A pause, though brief, convinced her that he’d caught her tip. His next words were soft but audible. “Actually, I’ve a change in plans.”

Mackenzie closed her eyes as she and Richard listened to his every word. His voice was like a lifeline just out of reach.

“I feel like a celebration...to honor the death of a fellow Lycan.”

What the hell
? Her eyes snapped open. Rafe’s words sent a ripple through Richard that she felt to her bone.

“We’d been after Anton a long time. We’re hard to kill, as you well know, but every werewolf has a silver bullet with his name on it.”

Richard’s arm tightened around her neck, the gun pressed firmly against the base of her head. She held her breath and waited for the sound of gunfire.

Instead, he grabbed the phone and brutally shoved her aside. Mackenzie caught herself against the wall, turned to face the gunman. His aim wavered, a sure sign of his agitation.

“You fucking bastard. She’s dead, you hear me?” His lips pulled back in a snarl, his teeth grinding.

Whatever Rafe said made his eyes widen, then narrow, his mouth curving into a smirk.

“Your bitch means that much to you, huh?” He licked his bottom lip and suddenly eyed her as if she were a prime T-bone steak.

“Oh, hell no. I call the shots. You got that? I do. She’s going away. Some place where you’ll never find her. When the deed’s done, once you’ve fulfilled your part of the bargain, and I’ve completed the change, then, and only then, will you get her back.”

Richard paused as he listened to Rafe’s response. Mackenzie strained to catch a word or two.

“No! Take it or leave it. That’s the deal.” After another pause, he grinned. “That’s more like it. I’ll call you back. I see any cops other than the one in front of me right now, the deal’s off. You’ll get your bitch back via the mail, one piece at a time.”

He hung up.

“Move,” he ordered, gesturing her to the back bedroom. Once there, he sat her on the bed and used a piece of clothing to tie her hands in front of her, but left her feet unbound. When he reached for a sweater from the closet, she debated running for the door but feared he’d shoot her despite his agreement with Rafe. She was all too aware of how many kidnapped victims were dead long before the first call for a ransom was made to their families.

Unfortunately, he saw her glance toward the door, came forward, and backhanded her. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.

“Don’t be stupid.” He draped the sweater over her wrists and grabbed her arms in a bruising grip. “Come on. Bernardo’s waiting. He’ll take real good care of you.” His laugh said just the opposite. “We’re going down to my car, so no funny stuff. One wrong move and you’re dead.”

He put his gun in his pocket but used it to jab her in the side as they made their way to the door.

“Open it.”

She reached forward, tugged it open. They stepped through the door and angled right toward the elevators.

A sudden yank and thud behind her had Mackenzie spinning around.

Rafe had slammed Richard against the wall. His right hand held the man’s throat. His left yanked Richard’s gun hand free. Two powerful collisions with the wall, and the gun fell to the ground. Rafe kicked it toward Mackenzie who wasted no time picking it up with the sweater.

Richard’s face was turning blue when Rafe released him. Before she could stop him—not that she tried all that hard—Rafe landed a punch to the creep’s jaw. A second to his gut had the man gasping for air. A third sent him to his knees. A fourth knocked him out cold.

Rafe stood over the prone man, his hands still balled into white-knuckled fists. His nostrils flared, but his breaths came in slow and even. He hadn’t even worked up a sweat, she observed, or released half of the anger still coursing through his veins. He’d never looked so dangerous or more incredible in all the time she’d known him. She suddenly feared for her kidnapper’s life, and her instinctual call to duty took over.

“Rafe, don’t.”

His head jerked toward her, his eyes blazing with a fire that confirmed her earlier thoughts. He noticed the cut on her lip, and the sudden pain that shone in his molten gaze made her say, “I’m all right. It’s over.”

He blinked and reached for her, but stopped when her hands became pinned between them. With a curse, he took out a pocketknife and cut her free, then pulled her back into his arms.

“I could kill him,” he murmured into her hair.

“I know,” she whispered against his chest.

“I want to for ever daring to touch you.”

She pulled back, placed a hand on his cheek. “I know. But you won’t.” When his eyes heated again in defiance, she rushed on. “You’ll let me haul his ass to jail, where he’ll be caged for the rest of his life. You’ll let the system work as it was meant to, for his father, for Shumaker. For me.”

His jaw ticked, but he nodded and pulled her against him again. Because he needed it, because she did, too, she remained there until a groan came from the man on the floor.

She moved quickly to roll him on his stomach, and then used her former bindings to tie his hands in back. Looking up at Rafe, she asked, “How’d you know? How’d you know what to say to him?”

“A portion of the raw news footage Drake gave me showed Anton and Richard in the background. They exchanged the envelope her disk came in. When I arrived, I wasn’t sure you were here yet, until I heard voices. I listened.” Pain etched across his face. “God, that killed me.”

She rose and hugged him again.

“I couldn’t just barge—”

“No, you did the right thing. You did what you had to do, and I’m alive.” She tried to think of something, anything that could ease the tension in his body. “I’ll be sure to thank the landlord for not soundproofing the apartment.”

His laugh, albeit weak, was music to her ears.

Suddenly she remembered. “Bernardo! He’s in the garage. I’ve got to call a unit, get them here ASAP.” She moved away, but Rafe grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t bother to rush. His driver has more than his hands full.” When she gave him a puzzled look, he added, “You’ll spoil Luc and G’s fun.”

“Rafe!”

He smiled. “Don’t worry. He’s alive.”

Rafe was right, as she learned several minutes later when they brought a bound Richard Robertson down to the garage to meet the arriving officers. Bernardo was indeed alive; however, he no doubt wished he was anywhere but hogtied to a support column. His hands were bound close, but not close enough, to protect his groin from the leashed wolf, which took an evil delight in growling a few inches away.

Handing Richard to an officer who promptly folded him into the backseat of a patrol car, Mackenzie approached the grinning Lucian Stone.

“Citizen’s arrest,” he offered.

“You have a cruel sense of humor, Lucifer.”

He shrugged, his grin widening at her use of that nickname. “We all have our little pleasures in life.”

She swatted his shoulder. “Well, knock it off. I don’t want to give this guy anything to use against us in court.”

As Luc and G backed up, she waved some officers forward to release the suspect.

Rafe watched the police car drive away. Richard sat slumped in the corner against the door. “He’ll try for the insanity defense.”

“He’ll try,” she agreed and silently vowed to be there every step of the way to ensure his attempt failed.

“Think he’ll turn on his boss?” Luc asked, referring to Bernardo, who was complaining rather loudly to the officers about how he’d been minding his own business when the nut and his dog attacked him. Mackenzie nearly laughed at hearing so many words come out of the man’s mouth all at once.

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