over the line into selling to support his drug needs.
That’s where Blaise and I came in. When otherkin ran amuck, we were called in to clean up the mess. Tracking Jimmy to his source should be a slam dunk. Nab Jimmy, nab his contact and we’d have two less scumbags trashing the New York City underworld.
A month ago, I’d have laughed in anyone’s face who tried to tell me creatures that weren’t human roamed our city streets.
All that had changed in a matter of days, when NYPD recruited me to their special taskforce—the Paranormal Investigative Team—lovingly referred to as the PIT crew.
He just turned into an alley, headed back your way. Blaise’s thoughts cut through my musings.
The alley I assumed he was referring to loomed half a block ahead of me like a dark maw, the streetlights barely penetrating the entrance. I held back, ducked behind a huge trash bin and waited, giving the young werewolf time to emerge. As I crouched there, the stench from the trash overpowered my senses.
A really long minute went by.
“See him?” Blaise asked.
“No.” I gave it another half of a minute and left my hiding place and the smell, moving toward the alley entrance. I eased the night vision goggles over my eyes, careful not to look back and be blinded by the streetlight a block behind me. Werewolves and some demons, like my partner, could see at night. Humans, not so much.
I paused at the corner of the building, my Glock drawn, thumbing off the safety switch.
Voices echoed off the brick walls, the actual words garbled by distance.
Squatting low, I peeked around the corner. Through my night vision goggles, three figures appeared in the alley, two standing, one carrying a limp form, glowing just as green as the others. A warm body, possibly alive for now.
Damn. A simple drug run was turning into more.
The green glowing figures stepped toward her, their voices low, intense, as if they were arguing in whispers.
Don’t move on them until I get around to where you are, Blaise warned me.
I slipped back around the side of the building, pushing the goggles to the top of my head. “They’re heading my way. Don’t try to come up behind them. The wind’s coming from that direction.”
“Hide and wait.”
As quickly as I could, I moved half a block back to the trash bin, sliding between it and the building.
As footsteps clumped toward the alley entrance, I could make out their words.
“If ya know what’s good for ya, you’ll ditch the bitch.”
“Can’t. She’s my cousin. My ma’ll kill me if I leave her there.”
“When Nic finds out you took her, he’ll do the job and make it hurt as you go down. He likes to make examples of anyone else who takes what’s his.”
“He wasn’t there when I took her.”
“That demon has eyes and ears everywhere. He’ll know.”
“Look, Jimmy, I can’t leave her.”
“You’re on your own, Mario.” Jimmy emerged from the alley, leading the way. He glanced right and left before cutting across the street.
“He’s on the move,” I said into my microphone. Before Blaise could respond, a hand clamped over my mouth, another around my waist pinning one of my arms to my side. I was hauled up against a solid wall of muscle.
Chapter Two
My heartbeat stuttered then raced. Instinct kicked in and I jabbed my free elbow into my attacker’s gut.
A muffled oomph sounded behind me, but the hand over my mouth didn’t loosen. Then a voice whispered, “Katya, it’s me.”
My pulse slowed and I dragged in a deep breath.
Blaise’s hand dropped from my mouth to my shoulder.
“Damn it, Blaise. You could warn me next time.” His fingers warmed me, even through the fabric of my black leather jacket.
“I will, next time.” He nodded toward the young thugs. “I’ll take Jimmy. You go after the guy carrying the girl.”
“Why don’t I go after Jimmy and you take the others?” I pushed away from the brick wall and crept to the corner of the trash bin.
“You know I can move faster, and Jimmy’s on the run now.”
The sound of footsteps pounding through the alley reached me. “Fine. But don’t do anything until you see him make the sell.”
Blaise saluted me. “Be careful. Just because he’s carrying someone doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.”
I nodded. “Same to ya. I don’t want to train a new partner.”
He chuckled softly, pressed a kiss to my lips and disappeared, moving so fast, he’d crossed the street before I could tell him how unprofessional it was to kiss your partner on duty.
Instead I shook my head. I couldn’t tell that demon anything.
Blaise did whatever the hell he wanted. Though he worked with the PIT crew, he wasn’t on the payroll and he came and went as he pleased.
I was glad he was on our side—not that I’d tell him that. The demon had a big head to begin with, thinking he was better than anybody else.
He had reason to think that. I’d seen him practically rip a man apart, limb for limb. The guy deserved it, but the incident reminded me that my partner had superhuman strength and speed.
Must be nice.
I was stuck with being a five-feet-two-inch female cop with big boobs and no respect. Well, at least no respect until I flattened a guy on the way to the locker room for pinching my ass. Since then, all of the cops of the Fifth Precinct had steered clear of me. Had I known that was all it took, I would have decked someone earlier.
I didn’t have time to put up with dumbass men who thought small meant weak. I’d been a cop a lot longer than some of them and didn’t put up with much. I could drop a perp with a bullet or tackle them and put the fear of God in them with hand-to-hand combat. Mostly because they didn’t expect a girl to be tough.
I’d learned to stick up for myself the day my dad walked off and left me, my brother and mother to fend for ourselves in the not-so-great neighborhoods of Chicago.
Manhattan was a cakewalk compared to some of the places I’d cut my teeth on. Or so I thought, until I discovered people I thought were human...well...weren’t.
Mario had turned to the right and headed the opposite direction from me, stooped under the weight of the body he carried.
I followed at a safe distance, wondering where he’d take the woman, knowing I wouldn’t let them get far. If he was involved in drug trafficking with Jimmy, I needed to question him, put the screws to him and see if he knew who was supplying his partner.
As I moved closer to Mario, my nostrils picked up a canine and cologne combination that confirmed my suspicion. Mario, like Jimmy, was a werewolf. Even the girl he carried put off the same kind of odor.
Gun drawn, I closed the distance, running lightly across the uneven sidewalk.
“Look, if you’re gonna shoot, pull the damned trigger.” Mario ground to a halt, his back to me.
“Don’t tempt me.” I trained the weapon, loaded with silver bullets, on the werewolf, having been warned of their strength when in wolf form. “I have a gun pointed at you. Turn around slowly.” For all I knew Mario could be calling on his inner beast, or whatever werewolves did to go from human to wolf.
Mario turned, his young face haggard,