While waiting for Khalid to apply the bandage, Archer got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. An icy chill swept over his body, and all his hairs stood on end.
“What’s wrong?” Krys asked. “Pain just now hitting you?”
Archer shot out of the chair. “Something’s wrong.”
“Yeah. You got a horse inked on your body.”
“No. Something’s wrong with Cici.”
Khalid stood and applied the bandage to Archer’s arm, but Archer was feeling a massive kick of adrenaline flooding into his veins.
“We need to go.”
“Go where?” Krys stood.
“Avoid shifting for twenty-four hours,” Khalid cautioned him. “Just in case. If you do, examine the ink and make sure it doesn’t require a touch-up.”
Archer pulled the money out of his wallet, and instead of counting out the tip, he dumped every bill he had on the counter. “It’s badass,” he said robotically before marching out the door.
Krys caught up when they entered the parking lot. “Do you mind filling me in?”
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Cici. I’ve got a bad feeling I can’t shake. Call her number. It’s in my contact list.” He tossed Krys the phone as they got into the truck.
Archer peeled out of the parking lot so fast that he barely turned the wheel enough to get them onto the road.
“No answer.” Krys put it on speaker and made a second attempt, but it went to voicemail.
Archer put the pedal to the floor. It seemed like a lifetime before they arrived at the warehouse. Both of them got knocked around when Archer jerked the wheel too soon and they plowed over the road verge. After putting it in park, he ran up to the building and pounded his fist on the door.
“Cici! Open up.”
When he didn’t hear anything, he pressed his ear to the door. The unmistakable roar of a large cat made his chest tighten.
Archer sprinted back to the truck and jumped in. He threw it in reverse, backed up to the road, and positioned himself in front of the garage door. “Check for a gun.”
Krys opened the glove compartment and retrieved a pistol. “Are you sure about this? That’ll be one hell of a repair bill if you’re wrong.”
Following a deep breath, Archer looked at his cousin and said, “Last chance to bail.”
Krys reached over as if to give Archer a hug but instead put the seat belt on him. “Safety first.” After buckling his own, Krys aimed the gun at the floor, his finger off the trigger.
Archer accelerated at top speed. For a few breathless seconds, it felt as if the tires were off the ground. Then they crashed into the roll-down garage door. The impact was as loud as a shotgun, and most of the door pushed in and broke apart. Archer backed out and rammed it once more until the vehicle was inside.
When he spotted the tiger astride Cecilia’s back, he took off his seat belt and jumped out.
Krys rounded the vehicle, his gun aimed. “You wanna play, kitty? Let’s play.”
Cecilia was struggling to breathe from being pinned beneath the giant cat.
Archer stalked toward him, his only goal to lure the animal away from her. “Come on!”
The tiger unleashed a spine-chilling roar as they closed in from opposite angles. Archer’s heart galloped in his chest at the sight of blood staining the animal’s neck.
“He’s wounded,” Archer warned Krys. “Be careful.”
Cecilia met eyes with Archer. She curled her arm and, in a quick motion, slid something toward him. A shiny dagger skated across the concrete floor and stopped a few feet short.
Archer shot after it, and as soon as his fingers wrapped around the handle, the tiger lunged.
