Chapter 4
THE SECRET AGENT GADGET BAG
Crush had been in many dangerous situations in his thirty-two years, but none of them had played out quite like this.
Terrified omega almost crashing into him? Rare, but it happened on rescues sometimes.
An omega asking if he had a gun? Unusual, but understandable since Crush was a wolf shifter and he had no innate long-range abilities.
But an omega asking to borrow his gun?
An omega asking for ammo and a spare mag? And upon seeing the gun, calmly disassembling it and checking it for neglect?
Crush would’ve been half-hard, if it weren’t for Killian’s wide eyes, the pallor of his cheeks. The sour hint of fear layered over his amazing scent.
Who was Killian McCarthy?
“I guess you’re not just a teacher’s assistant and bar server,” Crush said with his gas pedal flattened against the car floor. The car accelerated with a loud purr.
Killian startled and jerked his gaze over. “Uh. How did you know that?”
“When Pinks asked for help rescuing his friends, he gave us a file on each of you. Most of your page was blank. All I know is your name, age, species, physical description, and your two previous jobs.”
Not that ‘brown hair and brown eyes’ had prepared Crush for Killian’s exquisite beauty. There was something fine-boned about the rabbit omega, and silvery, almost invisible scars on his hands that were so old, they had almost faded completely. He had too many scars for a normal 23-year-old.
Killian looked away skittishly. “I, um. I didn’t want anyone to know about my old life.”
“Why not?”
The omega looked at him incredulously, gesturing at the gun sitting in his lap. He was holding it loosely, not because he was afraid of it, but because he was just that comfortable with its presence.
Two bullets hit the back of the car. Killian twitched instead of panicking more.
Which meant he had been shot at before.
Enough that he had become desensitized to it.
Something hot and angry coiled in Crush’s stomach. Who the hell shot at a prey shifter? Who had made Killian this unconcerned about danger?
It means he had a higher chance of surviving before I came along, a small voice said in his chest.
Not that Crush could be logical about this.
From the moment Killian had peered up at him and cried, Help, something had shifted in Crush’s chest.
Something that said, Mine.
Maybe it had happened even before that. On a dark night in front of several burning buildings, with Killian huddled around his baby, his scent grassy-sweet in Crush’s snout.
Crush had stayed by his side for hours, until Killian had fallen asleep against his furry back. Then Killian had woken up and bolted upright, sleep-rumpled with shadows under his eyes.
Starving and stressed, he had looked and smelled perfect even then. But he looked better now. Less starved, more rested. Healthier.
And he had Crush’s favorite gun in his hands.
Something moved in the rearview mirror.
“Incoming,” Crush said lowly.
Killian stiffened, his ears twitching. Then he turned and gave the back of the car a considering look. “Is it possible to... open the back window?”
“Actually, yes,” Crush admitted. “I bought this model for the airflow. It’s been spelled bulletproof, but if you open that window, it’ll allow bullets through.”
Killian unbuckled his seat belt and climbed into the back seat.
“Kils,” Crush said, a little nervous now. “What’re you planning?”
“Taking them out.”
Just like that.
Crush had to shove down his arousal and focus on driving.
He watched Killian through the rearview mirror as he rummaged through the bag from Doc and Uriel.
“Is that a secret agent gadget bag?” Crush asked.
Killian laughed a little. It was the first time Crush had heard him laugh, and it was soft, almost self-deprecating.
The omega was focused on the bag’s contents, though. The first thing he pulled out was a pair of tiny earmuffs. These, he fitted over Naddie’s ears.
Next, he produced a tiny hoodie. Killian unbuckled Naddie from the car seat, wrapped her up in the hoodie, and buckled her back in.
“Are those special?” Crush asked.
“Sound protection on the earmuffs, and a bulletproof hoodie.”
“What about protection for you?”
Killian’s smile was lopsided. “I’ll be okay.”
Crush frowned.
Killian pulled out a small envelope next. He withdrew a square of paper covered in ink, bit into his thumb, and smeared blood across it. The runes on the spell sheet began to glow. Killian folded the paper over Crush’s gun barrel; the runes sank into black steel and disappeared.
“What did you do?” Crush asked warily.
“Silencing spell. Our ears will hurt if I don’t.”
A low rumble erupted from Crush’s throat. “I want to protect you, damn it.”
“Yeah, but I can’t drive, and we only have one gun between us,” Killian said.
For a moment, his gaze dulled. In a tone so low that Crush almost missed it, Killian mumbled, “I don’t like killing people.”
There were at least four assholes pursuing them, who needed to be stopped.
What was it going to cost Killian, to put bullets through them?
Crush’s heart squeezed. “Fuck, sweetheart. Let me do this. I already have blood on my hands.”
“Well, so do I!” Killian snapped.
Crush wanted to hug him so badly, his arms ached.
Naddie made a soft, unhappy sound.
“Fuck it,” Crush muttered.
He hit the brakes, pulling the car to a screeching halt on the road shoulder.
Killian yelped and turned, his pulse loud in Crush’s ears. “What’re you doing?”
“Doing this so you don’t have to,” Crush growled.
He grabbed the lever to collapse the front passenger seat, at the same time he unbuckled his seat belt.
Between Naddie’s car seat, Killian, and the bakery boxes, there was hardly any space left in the back seat. Crush squeezed himself back there anyway, slotting his folded legs on either side of Killian’s hips, so Killian’s back was pressed against his chest.
Killian fitted perfectly between his legs, in his arms.
He was so small.
Crush’s instincts roared: Protect.
He hit the button for the back window, plucked the gun out of Killian’s hands, and aimed it at the black cars speeding toward them.
Crush took out the snipers first. Killian stiffened at the recoil, but Crush didn’t give him time to adjust. He shot out one front tire, then another. Then he shot through the windshield at the driver, and didn’t stop to look at the blood splatter.
Instead, he aimed for the other car, shooting out its tires and its driver too.
The cars skidded on the asphalt. Crush watched them for signs of life. One of the cars crashed into the concrete center divider; the other headed straight toward them, at such a high speed that a collision was inevitable.
Killian gripped Crush’s thigh, his pulse thundering. “Crush!”
Crush bit into his own thumb, smearing his blood against a spot on the car roof.
Blue light glowed softly around them. A high note tinkled like silverware hitting a crystal glass, the vibration buzzing through Crush’s bones.
The next second, the car slammed into them. Its hood crumpled; its windshield shattered. Bodies jerked lifelessly in their seats.
Crush, Killian, and Naddie barely felt a bump.
Killian stared, his pulse so loud. “I... What... What just happened?”
Before Crush could check for any other hostiles, Killian nudged the spare magazine into his palm.
“You have one shot left,” the omega mumbled.
Something fluttered in Crush’s chest. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
He reloaded his gun, listening to the black cars. When he found no survivors in them, he hit the button to close the back window.
Then he wrapped his arms around Killian in a warm hug. “Great job. That was a barrier spell combined with a sticking, stationary spell. It made my car behave like a concrete pillar.”
“A... A pillar.” Killian blinked several times, looking around dazedly.
“I use my car on missions sometimes,” Crush explained.
“It’s been heavily modified—that drift stunt earlier could’ve cracked axles on a car that wasn’t prepped for dry road drifting.
Not to mention the potential bullet damage.
I don’t want to build another of this baby, so I have precautions in place to minimize damage.
” He waved at the car roof, at the invisible spells hidden in the fabric.
“Oh.” Killian swallowed. “That... That would’ve been nice to have. When I was...”
Not for the first time, anger bubbled in Crush’s gut. “They should’ve treated you better, whoever they were.”
Killian bowed his head and shrugged.
“I’m just glad it’s in the past,” Crush growled, handing the gun back to Killian. “We’ll have to keep moving. If you feel up to playing lookout, I’ll get us out of here.”
“Okay,” Killian mumbled.
It was more difficult than he expected, separating himself from the omega. Killian didn’t even bat an eyelid at Crush pressed against him, their bodies snug and warm against each other.
Crush hadn’t had an omega tucked between his legs in... a long while. His instincts howled for more. Especially when his friends had been cuddling their own mates, touching and kissing, leaving their scents all over an omega they could call their own.
Crush wanted a mate.
He wanted one with a furious intensity, and that only grew worse with each friend who found a happily ever after.
When he tried to remove his hands from Killian’s hips, he realized that his nails had grown into claws, hooking lightly into Killian’s clothes and refusing to let go.
What the hell? He bent his head, slowly withdrawing his claws one by one. This brought his nose closer to Killian’s nape.
He caught his scent on Killian’s skin, a heady mix of damp forest and sweet grass. It was perfect.
Without realizing it, Crush had his nose pressed against Killian’s nape. Killian squeaked. Crush couldn’t help huffing, filling his lungs with that scent. “Sorry,” he said, his teeth elongated.
The next thing he knew, he was pinning Killian beneath him, their bodies pressed snugly together.
Mate him, his instincts rumbled. Make him ours.