"Where are you going?"
"If you must know, that coffee went right through me. Have a good day," she hollered over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom in the back.
Lexi's gaze found the coffee mug sitting on the desk, looking shiny and clean. She glanced over to the coffee machine and saw the carafe, sitting empty and dry on a hot plate Lexi would bet was cool to the touch. She smiled to herself and pulled the leprechaun's file from her in-box and placed it in TJ's box. She grabbed the Gonzales case, quickly thumbed through its contents, then dashed out before Marge came back.
Gonzales's apartment was only about a twenty-minute walk down to the far,west part of 37th street. This close to the river, the buildings tended toward warehouses. Its emptiness gave it a bit of a spooky feel, even in broad daylight. Not surprisingly, Gonzales lived in a building where security was nonexistent. The lock on the front door was broken, so there was nothing to stop her from going straight to his apartment.
The young woman who answered held the door ajar and looked out warily. There were fresh bruises around her jaw and right eye that didn't completely hide the discoloration of her older bruises. She looked like she didn't weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, ana Lexi wonaerea what Kind or scum ner nus band was to beat her up. She was almost eager to give him a try at someone who could fight back.
"I'm looking for Maurice Gonzales," Lexi said. "Is he in?" She tried not to appear too obvious as she looked past the woman's shoulder into the apartment.
"Who are you?"
"I'm from the bail bond agency. He missed his court appearance, so I'm here to take him back to jail.
It was hard to miss the look of surprise that crossed the woman's face. "He won't go. I tried to remind him the other day and . . ." She gave a small shrug, but Lexi didn't need her to finish the sentence. Her bruises told the story for her.
"I understand your concern, but I think he'll find I can be very ... persuasive."
"He's very strong," the woman cautioned.
"Stronger than a werewolf?" Lexi asked, smiling when the woman's eyes opened wide in surprise.
A slow, tentative smile appeared across the woman's face. "Maybe not." She glanced behind her at the small boy playing with toys in the middle of the room before turning back to Lexi. "If you take him to jail, how long will he be there?"
"That depends on whether I think there's a chance he'll run again. If I do, he could be there until his new court date-which could be several weeks from now."
"Several weeks would give me time to pack up and leave." The woman stopped talking while she thought about it. "If I tell you where he is," she said finally, "will you call and tell me when he's in jail?"
Lexi nodded. "I will."
"Big John's Ice House."
Lexi smiled. The day was looking up. She thanked the young woman, got her phone number, then left.
Big John's wasn't more than five blocks away.
Inside, the bar was more crowded than she would have liked since it was almost lunchtime, but she spotted Gonzales immediately.
He was sitting at a table with several other men, playing cards. Despite the dim lighting, she saw he had stringy, dark, shoulder-length hair and a jagged scar across his left cheek. When he held up his cards, she saw the prison tats across his fingers.
Lexi thought about her strategy. According to his case file, he was a little taller than her own 5'10", and he outweighed her by a good fifty pounds. She had a couple of options for taking him in-all of which would be easier if she could get him someplace by himself.
Stepping behind a floor-to-ceiling column, she unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of her shirt and pulled the band from her hair, letting it cascade down her back. Under the circumstances, it was the best she could do to soften her appearance.
Stepping up to the bar, she ordered a drink. As she waited, she passed her gaze over the room, making sure to linger on Gonzales until he saw her. When their eyes met, she gave him the barest hint of a smile and then kept looking around the room, making sure she looked at Gonzales at least once more before turning her attention to the drink the bartender handed her.
She pretended to daintily sip it, though she had no intention of drinking anything from this place. After a minute, she rose and, throwing one last shy smile at Gonzales, walked out of the bar. If she were lucky, Gonzales would take the bait and follow her out.
She walked slowly to the end of the building and stopped to wait. Just when she was about to give up and go to Plan B, the door to the bar opened and Gonzales stepped out. She saw him look around, and, spotting her, he gave a big smile. His teeth were heavily stained from tobacco use, and she wasn't sure he'd ever seen a dentist. She had to work hard to keep disgust from showing on her face.
As he came toward her, she eased around the corner. There was a narrow gravel driveway that led to a parking area behind the warehouse next door, and she walked along it, hearing Gonzales's hurried footsteps as he came after her. Briefly she listened for sounds of anyone walking nearby who might feel compelled to interfere.
The hand on her arm pulling her to a stop came sooner than she expected. He must be eager, which suited her fine. The sooner she put him behind bars, the better everyone would feel. Schooling her features, she turned and gave him an innocent smile.
"Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be in this part of town by herself," he said. "Maybe I should make sure you get home safely. Or, better yet, how about you and me go someplace we can get to know one another better?" His breath hit her in the face like a wet, moldy blanket, making her want to gag.
Instead, she laughed. "Not if you were the last man on Earth."
The grip on her arm grew painfully tighter as he yanked her forward. If she'd been a normal human female, she might have been in real trouble.
"Someone needs to teach you some manners," he growled.
"I know you don't mean you. Now-Let. Go. Of. Me." She enunciated the words, wanting to make sure there was no miscommunication, but she couldn't help adding with a mumble, "You stupid fuck."
He stared at her as if he couldn't believe what she'd said. As the comment finally registered, she saw him get mad.
About damn time.
She had a full second to brace for the impact when he backhanded her.
The blow was still hard enough to knock her head to one side and split open her lip. As pain lanced through her, she felt the wolf in her rise. She was dangerously close to shifting, but she managed to keep everything except her eyes from changing.
"What the hell ... ?" He sounded confused.
"Maurice Gonzales," she recited quietly, dabbing the blood from her lip with a finger, "my name is Lexi Corvin and I'm a registered bail enforcement agent. You missed your court appointment and jumped bond. I'm taking you in."
He jerked back as if he'd been hit. "Fuck that." He turned, but before he could run, she grabbed his collar and hauled him back.
He swung his arm in a wild punch she easily ducked. She fisted her free hand and hit him back as hard as she could. But he was a big man and didn't go down easily. Fueled by rage, he wrenched free and began pummeling her face and stomach with his meaty fists.
She did her best to ignore the pain and lashed out at him again, first hitting him with several quick jabs to the chest followed by a roundhouse kick to his kidneys.
She may have crossed the line of ethics in luring her skip into a fight, but her sense of justice couldn't pass up the opportunity to beat the crap out of a man who liked to hit women.
Lexi felt Maurice starting to tire, but before she could deliver the final blow, a sudden explosion of light off to the side flashed so bright Lexi had to close her eyes. A shock wave rippled outward, buffeting her with enough force that she had to fight to keep her balance.
When she dared to open her eyes, a concentration of smoke or mist was starting to disperse, and in the middle of it stood the figure of a man.
He was a giant, with dark, unruly hair that fell almost to the collar of his sleeveless black duster, which hung open in front, revealing well-muscled arms and chest, both covered with tattoos. His black leather pants hugged slim hips and muscular legs-and his boots seemed to be of a style much older than any Lexi had seen.
His striking features seemed familiar to her, and it was with a sudden shock that she remembered where she'd seen him before: during the Calling. He had appeared briefly in her scrying flame. At the time, his face had been distorted in pain, but there was no doubt. This was an Immortal.
CHAPTER Two
Seconds ago, Darius had been arguing with Sekhmet in her audience chamber. Now he was standing in the middle of a street between two large structures, staring at a man who had clearly been beating up the woman beside him.
Darius took in her appearance-the startling light gray eyes, her long dark hair, the soft features of her face, now bruised and bleeding. Rage filled him. He stormed over to the man, grabbed him about the neck and lifted him into the air with his left hand. The man weighed more than Darius had expected, but he held the thug easily while he slapped his right hand against his left forearm and came away holding a dagger.
"What are you doing?" the woman asked, rushing to his side.
"I'm going to kill him," Darius replied, his voice calm, yet cold.
"You can't," she protested.
He gave her a sharp look, wondering if she could somehow see the slight lag in his strength. "I assure you, I'm quite capable."
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "You don't understand. I'm telling you not to."
He was surprised at her boldness. No mortal woman had ever spoken to him in such a fashion. "He struck you. For that, he should pay."
"He
will
pay," she assured him. "I'm taking him to jail."
He frowned. "It would be easier to destroy him."
He saw the spark of anger in her eyes. "Maybe so, but we don't typically kill our criminals straight out," she informed him icily.
"You're wasting your time with this one."
She moved forward and shoved him in the shoulder. "I agree, but do
not
kill him." He gave her a hard look, which she returned. "I mean it, Darius. Don't do it."
Her use of his name earned his undivided attention. "You know who I am?"
"Yes. You're Darius. One of the five Imm-"
He let the man fall to the ground and clamped his hand over the woman's mouth, ignoring the sensation of her soft lips pressing against his palm. "Quiet," he hissed. "It's better if no one knows I'm here."
Her eyes grew wide, but she nodded.
In that moment, while his attention was focused on the woman, the man he'd held captive scrambled to his feet and darted off. Remembering the woman's wish that the man not be killed, Darius slapped his dagger against his left forearm, where it once more melded with his skin to become a tattoo, and took off after the man.
Darius raced with the preternatural speed of the Immortals. Despite the other man's lead, he easily closed the distance. When he reached him, Darius grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him to the ground, where he pinned his quarry by putting his knee in the man's chest.
"What would you like me to do with him?" Darius asked the woman when she joined them.
"I've never seen anyone run that fast," she said, sounding so impressed that Darius fought to keep what was sure to be an idiotic expression off his face. Still, his ego swelled just a bit.
"The man?" he asked again, nodding toward his prisoner.
"Oh, right." She frowned as she looked around. "It'll take hours to get him booked and fill out the paperwork," she mumbled more to herself than to Darius. "I don't think we can afford to wait that long. There are people waiting for you. Still, I hate to just turn him loose. Too bad I can't just. . "
Her words trailed off, leaving her thought unfinished, but Darius had caught the gist of it. Grabbing the front of the man's shirt, he hauled the man's head off the ground and hit him in the jaw as hard as he could. The man's head whipped to one side as his eyes rolled up into his head.
"He should be out for a couple of hours," Darius told her as he got to his feet. "Let's put him in there and you can come back for him later."
The woman turned to look at the large metal box he'd noticed against the side of the building. "The trash Dumpster?" A slow smile spread across her face, giving her features a radiance that transfixed Darius.
Taking that as agreement, he carried the man over to the Dumpster. While the woman held the lid, he unceremoniously dropped the man inside. They found a few cement blocks abandoned in the lot next door and heaved them on top to help keep the lid down in case the man should wake before they came back.
As they worked, he couldn't help noticing how her shirt fell open, offering a tantalizing sight of a generous cleavage. He'd definitely been in Ravenscroft too long, and as he breathed in this woman's intoxicating scent, he could hardly resist the temptation to drag her into his arms and take her right there and then. With considerable willpower, he forced his thoughts back to more immediate concerns.
"You said there were people waiting for me?"
"Yes. Your brother, Adrian, for one."
"Adrian! He's here?" The thought of seeing one of his brothers after so many years was exciting, no matter how dire the circumstances that brought them together. "No, he's in Seattle with a witch named Amber Silverthorne, but I'm sure he'll want to tell you what's go ing on."