5. Ghosting is Foreplay #2
“I’m going to take Rex for a stretch,” Killian says before opening the passenger door and placing the bag and his coffee inside.
Looking at Killian over the cruiser’s top, I tap my fingers to get his attention. “Just open the door and let him out. He knows to stay close.”
Killian opens the back door, and Rex bursts out, determined to sniff every fresh smell in the lot. “You sure he won’t take off?” Killian looks in the direction the dog went.
“He’ll be good, and we won’t keep him out long. He lets us know when he needs something.” I leave Killian to make up his own mind on police dog training as I get into the cruiser and take the lid off my coffee so it can cool to a more reasonable temperature.
Killian stays outside, monitoring Rex until opening the back door and calling for the dog to return.
“All good?” I ask as he gets into his seat.
“Yeah, just not what I expected.” Killian chuckles as he settles in and grabs a bag of chips.
“Thought there would be more bad guys to chase?” I ask, assuming that Killian wasn’t prepared for the boredom.
“Something different,” he muses before looking out the window at the warehouse for a few minutes of deep contemplation before turning back to me. “Do we just sit here and hope that crime happens?”
“Some days, that’s exactly what we do. Call those the best days because it means peace.
And honestly, don’t expect to be on patrol or active calls soon.
Not hitched to me. A lot of your days are going to be spent sitting next to me in a car.
Parked or driving. That’s most days on this job.
” I end my impromptu speech, wondering why I feel so angry.
“And then you just go home to your one-bedroom house? No wonder the mateless are so depressed,” Killian scoffs, fanning the flames of rage inside me.
“Welcome to your future,” I bite back with a sarcastic smile.
“Don’t you think there’s more to life than just being with a soulmate?”
“Says the man who wanted off this rock after losing his,” I say, unsure how the topic turned to this subject. Then again, it seems like the only topic anyone discusses.
“But that’s my point. You haven’t felt that pain. You have a gift, Kira. Use it.” Killian’s words come out sharp, cutting me deep inside as he finishes by turning his head to watch the warehouse.
An hour passes, and the only sound in the cruiser is Rex’s snores from the backseat.
My bladder urges me to break the stalemate with a trip to the restroom, but a call comes through the moment I open my mouth.
“Blackwell. You copy?” James’ voice sounds through the speakers of the Hellcat, and I quickly hit the button to take the call back to the hand radio.
“Yeah. What’s up?” I ask, noticing Killian turn his head to look my way.
“We’re about to bust a hive. Thought you might have your stomping boots on.”
Even with the glasses blocking his eyes, I can tell Killian is deeply confused.
“You said you wanted a little more excitement,” I taunt rather than clearing things up for him. “Send us the location,” I say into the radio.
A moment later, a notification pops up on the Hellcat’s screen, and Killian pushes it to start the navigation.
The car moves on its own while the message on the screen tells me we will be there in fifteen minutes.
I could make it in eight. Thankfully, my bladder has decided to go back to a slumber now that something interesting is happening.
I allow the computer to drive while I offer Killian a boon.
“Switch out to rubber bullets. That’s what stomping boots mean.” I dig into the center consul to switch out my magazines. “Hives are what we call pockets of hackers. So congratulations, you get to go on your first raid.”
“Non-lethal shots?” Killian asks, breaking the silence as he holds one of the rubber rounds between his fingers for inspection.
“The computer bugs aren’t big on arming themselves. They rely on computer code and weird booby-traps to slow us down while they escape.”
“No real danger, then?” Killian asks as he holds the bullet up to the light.
“There are always ways to run into pain,” I say, knowing firsthand what it’s like to be on the other end of one of those rounds. “No one should die today, but maybe someone slips in a puddle and breaks their head open. I can’t really make promises one way or another.”
“Guess that’s fair,” Killian says, seeming content.
The Hellcat pulls up to a warehouse in the mateless district.
Dark clouds gather above the roof of the building, darkening the sky while a thunderstorm looms. Tommy’s Mustang is parked in front of us, empty.
The door to the warehouse sits half open and at an angle from the top hinge, breaking loose.
Smoke billows from the doorway, along with flashing neon lights.
“Booby traps are active,” I say to Killian overtop of the Hellcat after assessing the situation. “I want you to watch the front door and detain anyone that tries to escape.”
“And where are you going?” Killian asks with an edge as he steps toward the front of the car.
“I’m gonna see how many bugs I can catch.” I grin.
While everyone in the department calls them bugs, I’ve always thought of it as more like a game of cat and mouse. And I’m a tiger.
“You’re free to come in and try to grab them,” I say, not wanting Killian to think I’m benching him. “But mind the traps. My record is eight.”
“And mine is twelve,” James boasts, hauling a man through the door. He heads for the large black van and opens the backdoor to secure the man inside.
Tommy comes out of the building with a thrashing blonde woman barely contained.
“Killian. Want to help me out here?” Tommy manages nearly losing his grip.
Killian jogs over, and I smile, knowing the boys will help me babysit.
“How many?” I ask James as he heads back toward the door leaking smoke. I faintly hear pounding, like loud bass rumbling deep inside the building.
“It’s a tiny but mighty hive. Should be five. We’ve got the exits covered. Two in the truck means three more to grab. Smith and Jason are inside,” James says before ducking inside, and I scurry to catch up.
I need to get at least one.
The floor is covered in at least three feet of smoke from a smoke machine in the corner. Beams of light cut through the fog, and the lights above flash in different colors.
“Is this supposed to fuck with us, or make us want to dance?” I yell at James’ back, and he shrugs before leading me deeper into the warehouse.
He opens the door to the stairwell, and music blasts through the opening from a speaker on the wall just inside.
“Well, that’s annoying,” I say, covering my ears as we ascend.
We come to the door of the first floor and encounter another blast of music coming from a speaker attached to the wall. James motions he will take the first floor while pointing up with his finger as a suggestion for me.
I roll my eyes and flip him off, and he smiles before slipping through the door. I take the stairs two at a time, knowing I am nearing the next floor when the music gets louder. Stepping onto the second floor, my ears ring, and I pull my gun from my holster as I make my way down the dark hall.
A door ahead to my left opens, and a person dressed head to toe in black emerges. They walk with an unrushed purpose. Something that looks a lot like a laptop is under their arm, close to their chest.
“Stop,” I bark, aiming directly at the back of their head.
“Hello, kitten.”
The hairs on my arms stand at attention when I recognize the voice of my soulmate. My body freezes in place, gun still aimed at him with my finger on the trigger.
He turns slowly, but it’s hard to make out his features in the dimly lit corridor.
I squint, focusing down the length of the barrel, only to realize my soulmate is wearing a mask.
It’s black with a skull hand painted in white on the front.
The area where his eyes should be is nothing more than bottomless black sockets.
I can feel him staring at me.
My arm drops, and I holster my gun.
Every ounce of me wants to launch into his arms, but the sound of pounding music snaps my head to the side as I check the stairwell. Nothing. Turning back, I find an empty hallway. My soulmate disappeared as though I had imagined the entire encounter.
“Fuck,” I swear into the dark. My entire body is on fire, and I don’t think there are enough breathing techniques to calm the storm brewing inside me.
I rush through the floor, kicking down every door I come to. If he goes for the stairwell, I’ll hear it.
“I know you have a thing for ghosting me, but don’t you think this is getting a bit much?” I say before arriving at the next door and lift my leg. The door swings inward with my kick, bouncing off the wall before shuttering back in my direction.
People love to skimp on interior doors.
“Maybe that’s what I’ll start calling you. Ghost.”
I lean into the room. Lights blink from computers and other equipment atop tables, forming a maze.
I take a few steps in, checking the corners before getting a sense of the layout of the electronics towers.
Fans inside the machines blow the faint smell of hot dust as I creep close to get to the back of the room.
A door sits in the corner, and I go over to it.
I can tell by looking at it that this is not the type of door I want to kick in and go for the handle instead. It turns, and I push it inwards. It’s a bathroom. I step in and turn to face a mirror, my face barely illuminated by the glow from the computers filtering in behind me.
A face appears behind my reflection, the face of a skeleton.
Arms surround me the moment fear spikes in my veins.
A hand clamps over my mouth while the other tightens like a vise around my waist, pulling me into a hard chest. He crushes me to him while I struggle until, eventually, I come to a stop.