The Bondi CS crew had been thorough, and while it was too early for a complete report, Peter knew by the grim expressions on their faces as they’d moved about Regan’s house they’d find nothing.The only hope for a lead from what was undeniably a crime scene was the piss sprayed all about the house.But something in Peter’s gut told him even that bizarre piece of evidence would reveal sweet, fuck all.The tire tracks out in front of her house obviously belonged to a van but, despite what movies and TV shows told the viewing world, tire tracks rarely lead the cops to a suspect.All he had to go on were the two names and the two male voices he’d heard on the end of the phone call what felt like a lifetime ago.One Irish, one Scottish.O’Connell and McCoy.How many O’Connells and McCoys were there in Australia?
Too many to do a door knock, that’s for sure.
The elevator jolted to a halt and Rex’s claws punctured Peter’s shoulder again.Wincing, he reached up and gave the skittish lizard a soft scratch under its frilled neck.“Steady, mate.It’s okay.”
The jarring clunk of the opening doors earned him a fresh set of holes in his flesh and he grimaced.Nothing but a prelude to the pain Muriciano’s going to bring down on you, Thomas.
With Rex digging deeper into his flesh, he crossed the room, paying little attention to the curious and almost sheepish looks from his colleagues.Only one thing occupied his mind and it had nothing to do with his boss.He had to find Reggie.
Rex wormed higher up his shoulder and Peter gave the lizard another, albeit distracted, scratch.A male with an Irish accent, someone called O’Connell, a male with a Scottish accent, someone called McCoy, a house covered in urine, a tuft of what looks like grey dog hair and two missing sofa cushions…Where the fuck do I start?
“Muriciano told me you were an odd one.”
A low and supremely confident female voice jerked Peter out of his dark thoughts.He started, snapping his attention to the svelte blonde wrapped in snug, black linen perched on the edge of his desk.
Finely arched, blonde eyebrows rose above a direct ocean-blue gaze.Blood-red lips curled into a mocking smile.“Do you always wear a lizard on your shoulder or is this a one time thing?”
Peter gave the woman a level look.“I’m hoping to start a new trend.”He stepped over her long, stretched-out legs, unable to miss their incredible shape under the snug black fabric.Dropping his wallet onto his desk, he shot a quick glance at the ID card clipped to her hip pocket.“Any reason you’re sitting on my desk, Detective Vischka?”He turned and stared straight into her striking eyes.His gut however, told him the answer before the blonde said a word.
“I am your new partner, Detective Thomas.”The husky words rolled with a very faint German accent.“The one Muriciano told you was coming over two hours ago.You can call me Yolanda.”
Peter flicked his gaze over her relaxed frame and an unexpected tightness stirred in his loins.Long, long legs, a flat stomach, finely muscled arms and breasts more than capable of filling his hands to capacity.In other words, a distraction.
He didn’t need a distraction.He needed to find his sister.
The blonde straightened, her razor-blunt hair cascading over her shoulders to brush the heavy swell of her breasts hidden by her pristine, black shirt.“I have been waiting for you.”She brushed the caressing strands of hair back over her shoulder.Her tight nipples pressed at the material of her shirt like neon targets and Peter felt his body tense in primal interest.“I spoke to your sister, in fact.”
His throat slammed shut, his new partner’s nipples forgotten immediately.“Where is she?”
Yolanda’s full lips curled into a slow smile.“I will tell you on one condition.”
Anger shot through Peter and, before he could stop himself, he grabbed her smoothly curved biceps and glared into her face.Rex hissed at the abrupt move and sank his claws in deeper, but Peter ignored him.“What did she say?”
For a split second, Peter thought the muscles under his palms shifted, even though she remained utterly motionless.Her deep blue eyes never wavered from his and her lips stretched wider.“Touchy, are we?”
Peter clenched his jaw.“I don’t have time for games, Detective.What did my sister say?”
Yolanda studied him, the heady yet somehow delicate scent of her perfume invading his breath.With slow deliberation, she closed the miniscule distance between them, the tips of her breasts brushing his chest in a soft nudge.“She said ‘come save me’.Seconds before an Irishman hung up the phone.”
Peter’s pulse hammered.
Yolanda raised her eyebrows.“Well?Are you going to get rid of the crawling handbag, or is it coming along?”
Gripping her seatbelt in a death-grip, Regan stared in caustic horror at the man currently driving like a madman through the congested streets leading out of Sydney’s CBD.“So, we’re adding Grand Theft Auto to your list of criminal offences, are we?”
Declan flashed her a quick grin, grey eyes glinting with something close to mischief.“Hey, I’m not stealing.I’m borrowing.”
“I think the mechanic back at the gas station would beg to differ.Especially after the whole lengthening canines and growling like a savage beast thing you did when he said you couldn’t take his car.I think you scared the poor bloke witless.Do you always turn on the ‘animal’ to get what you want?”
The corner of Declan’s mouth curled into a disturbing grin.“Not until you came along, love.”
Regan glared at him, pressing her butt harder into the passenger seat of the mechanic’s old but finely tuned pick-up, trying to keep stable as Declan flung the car through the maze of lanes leading to Sydney Harbor Bridge.Menace radiated from him in waves, sending a chill up her spine and making her nipples pinch into hard, little points under her tattered shirt.“You know, there are posted speed limits,” she said, closing her fingers tighter around her seat belt.
Declan’s thigh flexed as he pushed his foot harder to the accelerator.“There’s also a sadistic bastard on our tail, something you seem to keep forgetting.”
Regan suppressed her own growl.Declan’s insistence Nathan Epoc was a mad-scientist werewolf was beginning to get tired.She cast him a sideward glance, taking in his brooding profile, his strong nose, high, chiseled cheekbones.Her pussy gave a tiny flutter of appreciation and she groaned silently.Damnit, I’ve fallen in lust with a nut-job.“Okay, hero,” she said, trying to ignore the traitorous tension in her sex.“What’s your plan?Are we going to aimlessly drive around Sydney all day or are you actually headed somewhere?”She raised another eyebrow at him.“Do you evenknowwhere you’re going?”
“I’m getting you as far away from Epoc and his mongrel pack as I can.”
