Bloody Sweet (Drop-Dead Lethal #2)

Chapter 1

SABLE

"Savannah!" I screamed into the phone even after it was dead. “'God no’ what?"

The call ended before she could tell me. The terror in her voice… Her words echoed over over.

Sable. Oh god, oh god. No.

Heart in my throat, I pulled the device away from my ear and tapped on the screen.

My first call went to voicemail. So did the one after that.

Don't panic, I told myself. Panicking won't help her. I need to be calm, rational.

Fuck, how could I not panic? Was Savannah dead? I didn't want to think it. Wouldn't accept the possibility. Would absolutely not consider the possibility she was worse than dead.

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths.

I forced one in through my nose and out through my mouth. Then another.

Enough oxygen and control to let a sliver of rational thought wind its way back into my mind. I had to make a call to someone very specific.

I winced when I saw the time on my phone. Three in the morning. With shaking hands, I pressed on Forrest's number and put the phone to my ear.

Would he answer, or would he have his notifications on 'do not disturb?' He was a busy, influential man. He deserved to have boundaries around his personal time. If he didn't answer, I'd understand. What would I do then? I could… Or maybe… Perhaps…

I had no idea.

I bit my lip and waited.

The phone rang a couple of times before Forrest's sleepy voice came through the speaker.

"Sable?"

"I'm sorry to call so late," I started.

He must have heard the edge of panic, because he immediately sounded sharper. "I'm coming over. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"You don't have to—" But he already hung up. I thought about calling him back and telling him he didn't need to hurry over. I should. My fingers hovered over the screen, but his name remained unpressed. Finally, I curled my finger in to my palm and let the screen turn off.

The truth was, I wanted him there. If anyone could figure out what to do, it'd be him.

I liked to think I was a competent, independent woman, but there was no handbook for this.

No direct line to a police call centre for people who'd received concerning calls in the middle of the night.

Chances were, they'd dismiss it out of hand.

After all, I had no proof anything happened to her. She wasn't officially missing. Yet.

I tossed my phone on the couch and hurried into my bedroom to change. Not that I cared if Forrest saw me in my pajamas, but if we had to leave to hunt down Savannah, I needed to be ready. Pink Hello Kitty pajamas with a tear in the knee didn't say 'running out the door to help a friend.'

I pulled on black leggings and an oversized sweater before pushing my feet into a pair of sneakers. Bright pink ones that seemed frivolous under the circumstances, but they were comfortable. If I had to run, they'd allow me to run.

I was sweeping my hair up in a ponytail when a knock sounded on the door. I trotted over to unlock it and swing it open.

"You should have checked to see who it was first."

I suppressed a gasp at seeing Woody Taylor-Francis standing out in the corridor. I tried to close the door, but he pressed his palm against it to keep it open.

"I'm not here to kill you," he drawled. "This time. Forrest called; he told me and Leif to get our asses over here."

I shook my head and started to formulate questions in my brain. Questions that remained unasked, because I suspected Forrest hadn't given him an explanation either. He'd snapped his fingers, and Woody went running.

Leif Larsen too, I noticed, as he stepped out of the elevator and started toward the door to my apartment.

"I didn't kill her," Woody pointed out.

"I can see that," Leif said cheerfully. His hair stood up, sticking out at more angles than I could count, like he rolled out of bed and ran here. He ran his fingers through it, but it didn't help. It stuck back up again as soon as he dropped his hand.

"Someone want to explain what's going on?"

"We can wait until Forrest gets here." Woody stepped past me and headed over to the kitchen to start the coffee machine.

I wasn't sure if I could drink any, but I might have to. Apparently I wasn't getting any sleep tonight.

Woody just got the machine going when Forrest appeared at the door.

He hurried in and placed his hands on my shoulders. "What's wrong?"

I told him about the call I got from Savannah. "She sounded scared. I don't know where she is or what's going on, but I need to do, I don't know, something."

"You sure she didn't have a nightmare?" Woody leaned against the countertop. The look he gave me suggested he thought I was a nightmare.

Right back at you, I thought, glaring at him.

"If she had, she would have answered when I called her again," I pointed out.

Where had I put my phone? I glanced around before remembering I'd left it on the couch. I picked it up and dialed her number. Voicemail again.

"I know something's happened to her." I shook my head. "I don't know how I know, but I know. I've never heard her sound like that before." She was the one with the jokes and the casual, calm approach to life. Hysteria wasn't a word I'd associate with Savannah Mills.

"Okay," Forrest sounded calm.

At least one of us was. Okay, the other two were as well, but me? I was anxious as hell. My lips started to tingle with it. I was overtired and getting overstimulated.

Don't have a meltdown until this is over, I told myself. Then I could curl up in a blanket nest like a heroine in an omegaverse novel. Did that make them alphas?

"Where would she usually be at this time of night?" Forrest asked, punching through my sidetracked thoughts.

"She did a lot of night performances, but they never run this late. She should be at her place." I pulled up the address and showed him.

He nodded. "We'll try there first."

"I'm coming with you," I said quickly. "She's my best friend. If I can do anything to help her…"

He regarded me for a moment, as though he might object, but then nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

"You're coming too?" I asked Woody.

He sighed and turned off the coffee machine. "Looks like it. Who needs sleep anyway?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause an uproar." Should I have called the police instead of Forrest? Maybe they would have listened.

"That's what we're here for," Forrest said. "To take care of you and the people you care about. Besides, we don't have to adhere to procedures the way the police do."

Those words hung in the air for a moment. Heavy. Both a relief and horrifying at the same time.

If someone did something to Savannah, these men would kill them without hesitation, I was sure of that. Did I need them to go around killing people to help me out?

I glanced around at them as we rode the elevator down. I didn't suppose I had a choice. If they had to kill to keep Savannah safe, that was what would happen.

In the back of my mind was the reminder that if anyone hurt a hair on her head, I'd be tempted to stab them myself. She was like a sister to me. Anyone or anything that scared her made me furious. Beyond furious.

Was this what Forrest meant when he’d said he'd burn the world down for me? Protectiveness, anger, death?

I'd do the same for them, and for Savannah.

Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

Woody pushed the glass doors and stepped out of the building. The rest of us followed him to the car idling at the curb. Forrest's. Did his driver ever sleep?

We piled in and Forrest gave him the address. I got settled in the back, Forrest on one side, Leif on the other. Woody sat in the front beside the driver.

"She'll be okay," Forrest said, taking my hand and squeezing. Leif did the same with the other one.

"What if she's not?" I whispered.

"She will be," Leif said. "She knew what she was doing when she called you, even if she doesn't realize it. You have us, therefore she has us. In a roundabout kind of way." He thought about that for a moment before nodding once, content he got his message across.

I wasn't sure if he was right though. Savannah might run in the opposite direction if she knew what they were really like.

In spite of that, I said, "I know, I just… What if we don't get there in time?" I looked back and forth between them, taking all the reassurance they were offering, but still on edge.

They hadn't heard the way she sounded. The absolute fear in her voice, like someone in a horror movie who was being approached by the big bad, intent on ripping her to pieces and feasting on her corpse.

My stomach turned. People didn't really do things like that. Did they? Kill other people and eat them? Better if I didn't think about that too much.

"Whatever happens, we'll deal with it," Forrest said firmly. "We're only a few minutes out."

I couldn't dismiss the possibility she wasn't there at all.

She could be just about anywhere. New York was a big city.

Trying to guess where somewhere else might be was like throwing darts at a map on the wall and hoping to hit the right spot.

Or hitting the wall at all, since I wasn't very good at throwing darts without hitting something I shouldn't, like my own feet.

Don't ask.

I had a couple more educated guesses, but this was my best one. If I got this wrong… I swallowed hard.

If I got this wrong, she might be dead. If I got this right, she might be dead when I got there.

What would I do if I lost her?

Stop it, I told myself. One minute at a time, okay? Don't lose your shit. It won't help anyone, especially her.

"This is the place," I said as the driver started to slow and pull up in front of another apartment building.

"She should stay here," Woody said, giving me the side eye from the front seat.

Forrest raised an eyebrow at me in question, but I shook my head.

"I'm coming with you," I said.

"I like when you come with us," Leif said, obviously trying to lighten the moment.

I snorted and followed him out of the car.

The street was quiet, apart from passing traffic, a few people here and there, someone on the way to work at a bakery, others arriving home. Nothing looked out of place.

It felt out of place. Wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it. Something was very much not right.

Every nerve in my body on alert, I followed the guys inside the building.

I stopped just inside. If the hairs on the back of my neck were ever going to rise, they were doing it right now.

I shook my head. "Something's up."

"It's not my cock," Woody said dryly.

I rolled my eyes at him. Honestly, if anyone was going to be turned on by this, I would have thought it was him. Apparently I was wrong.

I pushed thoughts of Woody's cock out of my head. I didn't need to think about how he tasted right now, or the way he groaned when he came. I certainly didn't need to think about the way his hand felt wrapped around my hair.

"The stairs." I licked my lips and nodded toward them.

"If you say there's something wrong there, that's where we'll go," Forrest said with a hint of judgment or amusement. He trusted my instincts. Or maybe his were telling him the same thing. Either way, he took me seriously, which blew my mind a little bit.

He stepped ahead, putting himself between me and the door leading into the stairs. Leif and Woody stayed close, one on either side of me.

I could have been surrounded by three hot bodyguards, all dressed in black. Were they armed? I couldn't see any weapons, but I suspected they were there, tucked away out of sight, ready to be pulled out and used in a heartbeat.

Ready to kill.

Forrest eased the door open, stuck his head inside and looked both ways before stepping inside.

"I don't see anything," he said carefully.

We all listened, but the place was silent except for the hum of electricity.

The stairs wound around, all the way up to the top of the building. It was a long way up, even to Savannah's floor.

"We could take the elevator to the top and walk down," Woody said.

"You can do that if you want," I told him. I moved past Forrest and started up the stairs.