Chapter 89
Troy
Claim
The sounds of violence reached me before the smell of blood. At the detective’s cry for help, I
kicked at the jail cell. It took nearly five good kicks before I broke the bar open. Wrenching open
the back door was nothing.
Officer Jones had Detective Warnos on the ground and was about to kill him. The motel manager stood by helpless, his hands behind his back. As I broke into the room, Officer Jones turned and fired. I dodged the bullet and lunged at him.
“What the fuck!” the officer screamed. He fired again, and a bullet tore into my shoulder.
Ignoring it, I ripped the gun out of his hands and threw it across the room. Lifting him up, I
slammed him into the desk.
“Ryker, don’t kill him,” Warnos shouted as he stood. Reaching under the desk, he grabbed a gun and turned to point it at me. I held Jones with one hand and looked at him expectantly.
With a shout, the manager turned and tried to run. Warnos tripped him up easily and pointed the gun at him instead. “How did you get out?” He panted.
“Thanks, Ryker, for saving my life. You’re welcome, Detective,” I said sarcastically. “And what’s happening here?”
The detective looked torn before he reached down with one hand and hauled the manager up to his feet. “I got a shit ton of emails tonight with enough evidence to send these two to the electric
chair.”
“Did they murder your two dead women? Or is four dead women?”
“Shut up, Ryker,” Warnos growled and headed to the jail cell. “Give me a second to frisk that one, and we can put them in the cells.”
“One cell.”
“No, I’d like to keep them separate.” Warnos opened the door, stepped into the holding area, and stopped short. My jail cell was in pieces. “But one cell works as well too.”
“Really shoddy material. You should launch an investigation,” I said mildly. “Anyone can escape, really.”
It took twenty minutes for the straight-and-narrow detective to process the two men. When it was over, he looked at me and frowned. “You’ve been shot. I’ll call the doctor.”
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Chapter 89
Claim
“No need.” I was eager to officially be freed. “If you’ll just sign the paperwork saying I can go, you’ll never have to worry about me again.”
“Shit, at least let me get the first aid kit.”
“Detective, I have a wife to get to. I’m really not into playing doctor with you right now. Don’t worry. I’m happy to sign a paper saying I’m not going to sue the department for wrongful arrest or your dirty cop for shooting me. I just want to be able to walk out of here and not be worried about being a fugitive.”
Warnos glanced at the door to the holding cells again. “I have questions.”
“I’ll give you my personal cell, and you can call me. Give me my things, Detective. Now.” I pushed
just a little bit of power in my voice, and his eyes widened.
“All right. Let me get the paperwork. It’s not like I can leave the station until the police chief gets
here, although he’s probably going to fire me for this. I’m pretty sure he’s not exactly squeaky clean
either.” He continued to mutter to himself as he started pulling out the paperwork and turning on
the computer.
That’s when I felt the first ice-cold sensation slither through. With a gasp, I stumbled back and
looked around. Magic. That had to be magic. Was I about the be attacked in the open?
“Ryker? You alright?”
The cold slowly began to heat up, and I found the source. The mating bond.
Then, pain spread through my whole body, and I knew. Kiana was in trouble. “I have to go!” I
snarled and ran to the door.
“Shit, Ryker? Where the hell are you going? I need your signature! Fuck!”
I made it to the parking lot before the bond darkened. I almost fell, but I kept going. Kept pushing
until I could shift and find my mate.
Find her before she died.
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