trust me on that. I'll get medicine to you and money I swear on my life, son.
Just shut down the call and get away from wherever you called me. If they
picked this up on satellite and triangulate& need I say more?"
He clicked off the call abruptly and stood in the darkness letting the wind
lacerate him. But it was the holfew chill within his soul that caused him to
shiver.
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"Did you kill him? Is that why he's not here with you tonight?"
Sasha blinked twice at the mystery man who was now before her, not sure that
she'd heard right. Her gaze narrowed. "What did you say?"
He leaned in and she jerked her head back. He straightened.
"I said, did you kill him? The werewolf you were always in here with the big
redhead."
The question was asked in a low enough timbre that only one with superior
hearing ability would have been able to make out what the man had said, but
Sasha's hands balled into fists in outrage.
"And what are you?" she asked, her eyes hard as she hurled her newly acquired
information at the intruder. "Some kind of warlock on a vigilante trip?" She'd
delivered her warning with a low growl through her teeth, also keeping her
voice low enough that the average human wouldn't have heard the comment over
the din.
It annoyed her no end that he just cocked his head to the side and stared at
her. It also deeply concerned her that one of her team had been made, in fact,
possibly all of them, and now there was a hostile force asking very dangerous
questions.
Sasha turned, paid for her meal, then set the bags down hard on the bar for a
moment, and turned back around. She looked him in the eye. "I'll tell you this
much. You're yanking with the U.S. military, pal, and if the big redhead goes
missing, you'll have an M-16 shoved so far up your ass you'll choke on it.
Believe that."
"You do not understand "
"No, correction you don't understand," she said, pointing toward his massive
chest. "You got a problem with one of my pack brothers, then you've got a
problem with me. And trust me; you do not wanna have a problem with me."
"You've picked the wrong pack to defend," he said quietly. "Pity. Soon you
will have to choose and step into your destiny. You are of our clan."
Sasha turned briefly to collect her food and six-pack, fury making it almost
impossible to speak. But when she whirled around with a hot comeback line, he
was gone.
An eerie calm came over her. She knew her guys could handle any potential
threat that came to their door, but there was no way she was going to allow
her brothers to get ambushed by a nutcase. And it hadn't escaped her notice
that he hadn't asked about the rest of the pack. Could that mean he had
already gotten to Woods and Fisher and was now going after Rod? Her heart was
pounding hard and fast. Maybe that was why she hadn't heard from any of them.
Well, now it was time to blow up cell phones, ask questions about the guys'
whereabouts, and use keys she swore she'd never use. If there was some huge
psycho stalking Rod because he'd somehow picked up on the virus in him, then
all privacy bets were off. Sasha stood still for a moment, her instinctive
distrust of the general blossoming. What if they'd sent an exterminator from
another branch of Special Forces? This guy knew too much about them for it to
be strictly coincidence. If that was the case, then this was an emergency. A
911 in full effect.
As she dashed through the crowd, her heart was in her mouth. She had to get
more info on this guy, zero in on his angle. The only way to beat a threat was
to understand how it thought, follow its modus operandi. But she'd been so
angry at the affront that she'd chased him away rather than luring critical
intel out of his sick, twisted brain.
"Damn!" she muttered, as she scanned the parking lot, knowing before she
looked that she'd never spot him that way. She couldn't even smell him any
longer; the only scent cloying at her was her burger.
She stalked over to her vehicle, depressed the alarm locks, and opened the
door, checking the back seat both visually and with her nose. The moment she
hopped in, she locked the doors, tossed the burger and the six-pack onto the
passenger seat, opened the glove compartment, and withdrew a nine-millimeter.
She placed the nine-millimeter on the passenger seat as well and extracted her
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cell phone from her bomber jacket and shoved it into the hands-free unit.
Adrenaline still pumping through her, she gunned the motor and tore out of the
space, hitting Rod's number on the contact speed dial first. Ripping into the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]