Shelly Laurenston: Bear Meets Girl

“I did.”

“Did you see the train leave the station?”

When Smith didn’t answer, both Dez and Crush groaned.

Cella took off her helmet. “Oh, my God, Smith, what did you do?”

“I’m not likin’ your tone.”

“How would you like my fist?”

“Bring it, calico!”

“Stop it!” Dez snapped. “Both of you. We don’t have time for this.”

“She’s right,” Cella agreed. “Baissier’s going to kill her.”

“No,” Crush corrected her. “She won’t do that until she has Whitlan in her hands.” He looked at Chazz, while Gray finally got to his feet behind him. “Where’s Whitlan?”

Chazz and Gray gave identical shrugs and said together, “The Hamptons.”

Crush looked at the three females, then said, “The Hamptons? Really?”

The black Range Rover door opened and Peg stepped out. Her team surrounded her. She’d chosen only the most loyal for this, but was still disappointed in the Crushek boys. They were still whining about what had been done to that idiot cat all because of some stupid hockey team.

Whatever. They were of no use to her at the moment anyway. That was the girl. The full-human girl the Group and KZS had been busy trying to protect turned out to be the key. It’s what Crushek and the others hadn’t know about the little thief—it had been Whitlan’s car she’d been stealing that day she’d rescued the cat. And what Peg had found out about Sophie DiMarco was how very good she was at her job. One of three thieving sisters, Sophie didn’t just steal cars, she studied her mark. Learned everything about them. Who they were, where they lived, what their hobbies were. In the end, the girl had known more about Whitlan than any of them—including where he’d been hiding for the past couple of weeks.

“Bring the girl,” she said, and walked into the country club. Another group of her men met her inside. “Well?”

One of the sows held up a full-human man by the neck. His face was battered, his arms nearly pulled from the sockets, some of his scalp missing. But he was still alive.

Peg stepped closer. “Where’s Whitlan?” she asked.

Shaking, his body slowly dying, the man stuttered out, “Base ... basement.”

“Good boy.” Peg stroked his face with her gloved hand and turned away. “Let’s go.”

She headed toward the stairs, but stopped, looked back at her people. “And keep your eyes open. The boy might show up and try something stupid.”

When she was confident that everyone understood, she walked on, heading to the basement.

Sophie heard the back door of the Range Rover open and she was yanked out. These ... whatever the hell they were ... they kept yanking her and dragging her everywhere. There wasn’t a subtle one in the bunch. Not like that woman with the weird eyes. She’d been tall with wide shoulders, and you could smell the predator on her. These guys were really tall and wide, but they were like the mobsters she sometimes dealt with. Not big on brains and they thought their size alone gave them the only edge they needed.

Although her wrists were left bound in front of her, the blindfold covering her eyes was removed and she took a second to look around. “Yeah,” she said to the guy holding her. “Really makes sense to make me wear that since I was the one who told you how to get here.”

He tightened his grip on her bicep and Sophie had to grit her teeth together to stop herself from screaming.

“I can hurt you now,” he whispered to her. “Or I can hurt you later. Your choice.”

“That’s not really much of one,” she shot back. “But nice try.”

He started to walk. When Sophie dragged her feet, he swung his arm forward, yanking her around. Using the momentum, Sophie bent her knees and swung her tied fists up and into the guy’s groin. He squealed, a sound that startled her, and then dropped to the ground, hands between his legs. Sophie took off running toward the other side of the road.

She made it to the line of trees and ran inside. But with her arms bound and the darkness of the night, the moonlight not helping much with all those trees, she kept stumbling. She could already hear at least one, probably more, of those guys coming after her. They’d be mad now, once they got her. But she couldn’t have just waited for them to kill her. And they would kill her. She knew that.

A hand wrapped around her throat, choking off both screams and her ability to breathe. She was lifted off the ground, her feet dangling, and brought up to look the man in the eyes.

He stared at her, cold dark eyes studying her. She felt like a bug he’d found in his kitchen. A spider he was curious about. Or an ant.

His lips pulled back and she saw fangs. Not those stupid fangs she’d seen in even stupider vampire movies. But animal fangs. Just like the guy she’d picked up off the road. His had come out when she was driving him to that office and that’s what she saw now. Even in this barely lit place, she could see them.

Panicked, she fought back, swinging her feet out, desperately trying to kick him away. Anything to get him to let her loose. She didn’t care she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t care that he was really hurting her now. She just wanted to get away. Anything to get away.

Then there was a flash of silver.

Sophie blinked, blood slashing across her face and neck. The man holding her gurgled and dropped her. She hit the ground, but kept her eyes open. She crawled away, but watched that woman, the woman with the dog eyes, yank the biggest knife Sophie had seen out of the guy’s neck. She wiped blood off on her jeans and tucked the blade back into the holster tied to her thigh. Then she pulled out the gun she had holstered to the other thigh, quickly fitted a silencer to the end, and walked around the man, gun down. Sophie thought she was coming for her. To finish what the man had started. But as the woman walked, she pulled the trigger four times, each bullet going into the man. One in his head, his face, his neck, his inner thigh.

She stopped in front of Sophie, crouching down. “You all right?”

Sophie nodded, but she still didn’t know if she could trust her. If she should. Her eyes ... as she moved, the moon reflected her eyes back to Sophie. Just like a dog’s.

The knife flashed again and then Sophie’s hands were loose. Fingers gripped her and helped her to her feet.

“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I promised to look out for you. Sorry I let you down.”

Sophie hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. She wasn’t much for fanciful flights of fantasy as her grandmother liked to call it. Reality had always made that impossible. But now she knew. That guy she’d picked up, he was one. The guys who took her tonight. That bitch woman who’d slapped her around until she got the answers she wanted. And this woman. They were all kind of the same. They weren’t human. Not completely. Not like Sophie. Because no human Sophie knew, who could cut a man’s throat, then shoot him in major areas and arteries on the body, would turn around and apologize for letting her down. And she’d meant that apology, too. Sophie could tell. Sophie knew liars and she knew truth tellers. This woman, or whatever she was, was all about the truth.

“What ... what’s your name?”

“Dee-Ann. Dee-Ann Smith.”

“What now, Dee-Ann?”

“We get you someplace safe.” With her arm around Sophie, Dee-Ann led her back to the road. “While my friends deal with Whitlan and Baissier.”

Sophie stopped, forcing Dee-Ann to face her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Sophie could see the concern on the woman’s face, but it wasn’t easy not to be completely freaked out by those eyes.