Chapter Eleven #2
Malik’s jaw tightened, and he bristled, about to snap back at me, when Tobias approached us from behind.
“We’re out, man,” Tobias announced. “Hill needs our help with a situation.”
As if the Bureau agent had flipped a switch, Malik’s muscles relaxed, his jovial grin evoking an unwanted stillness within me. “Is it a hairy situation?” He chuckled at his own immature joke.
Tobias glanced at me, careful and hesitant.
“She’s still a hunter, Tobias,” Malik declared, rolling his eyes. “Spill.” He grabbed the giant’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “You think Hill will let us tag along?”
Viper appeared at her partner’s side, shoving her weighted gloves in her bag. “Is this a joke?” she scoffed.
Malik turned to me, his grin wider than ever.
“What do you say, Little Red? Wanna show these Jacks how it’s done?”
◆◆◆
I had many reasons for saying no. For one, I didn’t like Malik. Secondly, I didn’t trust Tobias and Viper. And finally, I didn’t need to prove myself to anyone. Fuck the three of them.
And fuck my competitive ass nature. Because I was now in Malik’s BMW as we drove to the slums, listening as he rambled on about some long-ass movie he made me watch when we dated.
He pulled his denim jacket so that it covered the fresh shirt he’d thrown on in the gym’s bathroom. “All I’m saying is: how sick would it be if we found a fucking werewolf claiming to be the leader of all the dogs in the world, we cut off its head, and then all of them drop like fucking orcs?”
I stared out my window and sighed in response to his rambling. This familiarity was fake as fuck, and I had no patience to entertain it.
“What?” Malik continued. “You don’t like the thought of your boyfriend getting what it deserves?”
I rolled my eyes, only for my reflection to see.
“I want you to pick a fucking personality,” I mumbled, knocking my head against the window.
“You insult me in one breath and then stroll down memory lane in the next? It’s fucking exhausting trying to figure out which version of you I’m going to get.
” I turned my head toward him. “And in case you were wondering, I can’t stand either of them. ”
Malik snorted, unfazed. “We say the same thing about you.” He glanced at me, shaking his head as he faced the road.
“Not only the hunters who came back with James—the ones, like me, who stayed and charged into that warehouse with you from the very beginning. None of us knows which version of you we’ll get if we call on you for help: Joanna Sullivan, werewolf hunter. Or Little Red, the Alpha’s hunter.”
My gaze fell from his side profile to his right hand, which no longer rested on the stick, but squeezed it like the car owed him money.
Neither of us said anything for the rest of the trip.
I skimmed through the saved documents on my phone and was pleasantly surprised by how quickly I found my old list of affirmations. Opening the doc, I read the first one my gaze landed on.
I will receive the messages the universe has for me today. Ugh.
It always smelled on this side of town. Malik and I slowed our breaths once the heartbreaking stench of poverty and broken promises wafted through the car vents. Here, werewolves hunted humans under the treaty’s protection. And the blood and urine of their prey stained most back alleys.
So, one can imagine how irritating it was to see Deandre Hill leaning against his SUV. He’d already closed off the street with bright yellow tape tied around two poles.
“Joey,” he greeted as I stepped out of the car. He was loading silver bullets into his gun. “So, Viper wasn’t messing with me after all? Joanna Sullivan is willingly assisting the NBSA?”
He wasn’t in one of his expensive suits. He wore a non-descript black hoodie, a pair of dark-wash jeans, and a pair of brown Tims.
Who the fuck was this guy?
My frown deepened when Malik walked over and dapped him up.
Unbelievable.
“Another workout buddy, Malik?”
Malik flipped me the middle finger. “What we got, D?”
Hill holstered his gun and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. He spent the next two minutes flipping through photos, explaining the rescue or recover mission.
On the word of one of his CIs, werewolf squatters had taken up residence in the abandoned store at the end of the block. Not only were they uprising supporters, but they were possibly holding at least two human hostages in the building.
I shifted my weight and narrowed my eyes. “What makes you think they’re hostages worthy of being saved and not humans your bosses would gladly sign death certificates for?”
Another government-issued SUV pulled up behind Hill’s.
“She asked a valid question,” Malik declared, his eyes still pinned on the Chevy Suburban.
Hill swiped on his phone once more and held it out for me to see the screen, as if it provided an answer.
The girl on the flyer had promising brown eyes. The blue graduation cap atop her head couldn’t contain her brunette curls, and the playful smile on her face suggested she might’ve known it.
“This one’s been missing for two weeks.” Hill pocketed his phone as Tobias and Viper stepped down from the Chevy. “She just turned nineteen. No body’s been discovered.”
The assignment was an easy one, and Malik thought it would be ‘fun’ if he and I went in first. He asked the Bureau agents to give us five minutes before coming in after us. Hill agreed to the game after some convincing from Tobias.
Tobias nodded at Malik with an accomplished smile and kissed the crystal affixed to his badge before readying his gun.
I had my knife with me, but Malik let me borrow one of his silver knuckles—since he and I didn’t get to spar, he joked.
I hated to admit it, but it’s what I needed.
The auras of the wolves nearby were pitiful; my knife would’ve been too easy.
And with everything else, I didn’t just want to win. I needed a victory.
Piles of garbage replaced flowers in the planter pots by the sidewalk. Graffiti-laden boards smothered the front door and windows, preventing them from revealing any secrets within.
Malik waved me to the back of the store, where I followed him eagerly. He pressed his back against the wall, aiming his gun at the large hole in the brickwork. After you, he mouthed.
I kept my hand close to my knife as I ducked inside. I scanned the room, my eyes adjusting to the dark. It was small and occupied by a single chair up against the far wall.
Malik crept up behind me and nodded toward the wooden door in the corner. We inched toward it, and as I placed my hand on the knob, the unmistakable sound of shredding clothes disrupted the silence.
Malik’s grin accompanied the amused shake of his head. “If there’s one thing I’ll give the Jacks credit for,” he began, cocking his gun, “it’s that their little crystals don’t draw as much attention as our power does.”
I swung open the door, allowing Malik to dart in first.
The two gray werewolves stood waiting for us in the middle of the store. Little sunlight slipped past the planks of wood covering the windows, giving the monsters within their path an ethereal glow. The repugnant stench of dirty, wet fur made my mouth water.
“Where’s the girl?” I demanded, suppressing a retch. “We just want any humans you’re holding captive. Then we’ll go.”
The monsters exchanged confused glances.
I cocked my head and frowned.
“What’s wrong, wolf whisperer?” Malik asked from beside me.
My eyes bounced from the empty display cases blanketed with dust to the metal racks in their haphazard rows, like a tornado had blown through the store but given up halfway. “They don’t look like they know what I’m talking about.”
“Bullshit.” He aimed his gun from one werewolf to the next. “Give us the girl, and we’ll kill you quickly—”
Malik and I ducked as the werewolf to the left chucked a short rack at us, bags of presumedly expired chips falling at our feet.
Malik stood up and holstered his gun with a smirk.
“Not as quickly, then.” He pulled his silver knuckles from his jacket pocket and ran straight for the wolf.
The first punch was powerful enough to rock the monster on its feet.
The other wolf swiped at Malik, but I jumped in, landing a punch of my own.
My wolf didn’t stumble the way Malik’s had; my hit had been more of an attention-grabber.
And I got what I wanted.
The werewolf attempted to grapple me, but I side-stepped and punched it in its side. It recovered with a growl, lunging for my head.
I ducked and landed an uppercut to its jaw, its snout in the air as I kicked it in the stomach.
It crashed against a wooden shelf, making bottles filled with dark liquid shatter on the floor. It scurried to its feet, but I grabbed the neck of a broken bottle by my foot and shoved the sharp glass into the monster’s carotid artery.
The werewolf tried to stand, fruitlessly grasping at the glass jutting from its neck. Its paws eventually slowed to a stop, and it collapsed into a swiftly growing pool of blood.
Malik came up behind me, patting my shoulder, his hand stained a deep crimson. “Nice job,” he commended, wiping blood from his face with his shirt. “I won though, Gimli.”
I glanced over at his wolf, where it lay lifeless on the ground with its face caved in.
My ear twitched, and our heads whipped around just as a table hurtled toward us. Malik drew his gun, but as he pushed me out of the way, it clattered to the floor. The two of us landed hard on the tile.
Malik gritted his teeth and slammed his fist on the floor. He jumped to his feet, staring the third werewolf dead in its eyes. “Where the hell did you come from?”
The skittish creature growled. Its aura was so faint, it could’ve been a man in a costume.
“Omega, huh?” Malik was never prejudiced with his insults. “You must be the weakest fucking—”
The werewolf took off running for the door.
Malik threw his hands up in the air. “Tobias will never let this go,” he grumbled, running after it.