And how the hell was she going to do that? She didn’t know how to punch somebody without breaking her hand, and clawing him in a way that would cause serious damage—like to his throat—almost made her feel ill. She couldn’t do that.
So instead, she dropped into a slide on her hip, intending to swipe the guy’s leg in passing just like she’d done to Cabo in Miami. But as she slid straight at the guy standing there with his legs spread wide, another target presented itself, and she retracted her claws in time to close her hands into what she hoped was a proper fist and punch him in the balls as she slid between his legs.
The man fell forward over her with a groan as she came up on the other side.
The guy was rolling on the floor, dry heaving so violently that Dreya almost felt sorry for him. Until she remembered the pictures of tortured people that John had shown her. Then she didn’t feel so bad.
She jumped on him, rolling him over to rip the pistol out of the holster on his hip. Then she moved to see if she needed to help Braden.
But Braden was handling himself just fine. In fact, he seemed to be handling himself better than that. As she watched, he pummeled the third guard, the one she’d clawed the automatic weapon away from.
Dreya had never considered a burglary detective as needing to get down and dirty with a criminal, but apparently, Braden was a boxer. A six-foot-plus, really muscular boxer. He was jabbing and punching the man standing in front of him so fast and hard, it was like the poor guy never had a chance. The orderly’s head snapped back violently as Braden connected with the tip of his jaw. The guy’s legs turned to rubber, and he collapsed to the floor.
Braden moved to clock the guy she’d punched in the groin before the third guy had even reached the floor. One pop to the side of the head, and the guy was out. It was probably a mercy—at least he didn’t have to worry about how badly his balls hurt anymore.
Braden turned to look her way when the radio crackled.
“Checkpoint Four, the camera is back on. What’s the situation? Over.”
Braden grabbed the radio from the unconscious guy’s belt and calmly thumbed a button on the side. “Checkpoint Four clear. It was a damn owl sitting on the camera. Over.”
“Roger, Checkpoint Four,” the voice said. “Return to your patrol. Over.”
“Wilco. Out.”
Thumbing the button, Braden clipped the radio to his belt.
Okay, she was impressed. She’d just watched him take down four big dudes mostly on his own. Yet he’d talked on the radio as calmly as if he’d done this kind of stuff every day.
She watched him go through the pockets and equipment pouches of the four men on the floor, coming up with ammo magazines, Tasers, and monster-sized zip ties like she’d seen the police in DC use during protest arrests.
Without a word, Braden neatly trussed up the men.
“So,” she said softly as she moved over to help. “You’re a boxer, huh?”
He didn’t stop working but nodded. “Dad bought Nate and me boxing gloves when we were kids. He thought a cop needed to be able to handle himself in any situation, and he planned on us being cops from the day we were born.”
She smiled. “Well, yay, Dad. What about the military talk on the radio? Did your dad have you running around learning that, too? What the heck does ‘wilco’ mean anyway?”
He looked up from the last guy—the one she’d punched in the balls—and smiled. “That’s all the Saturday morning G. I. Joe cartoons I used to watch. Wilco is short for ‘will comply.’” Straightening up, he looked around. “We need to find a place to stash these guys. They’ll be out for a little while, but I don’t want someone coming out here and stumbling over them.”
She moved over and grabbed his hands to check out his abraded knuckles. Those were going to bruise up pretty good before long. “You know, you’re pretty good at this stuff. You sure you haven’t been holding out on me?”
He moved his hands to hers, taking in the sight of her slightly bloody fingertips. “I’m trusting your instincts and covering your back.” He flashed her a grin. “Though you might want to let me know before you try anything that crazy again.”
She felt heat swirl through her. In that moment, she realized she trusted—and loved—this man so completely, it made her heart ache. “Deal.”
“What’s the plan after we hide the bodies?” he asked, moving to check out a second door.
She tested the air with her nose, immediately picking up shifter scent and something slightly different that must be hybrid. It seemed to be coming from the far end of the corridor. But it was faint, like they might have to go up a few flights of stairs.
“We follow my nose until we find what we’re looking for,” she said as she reached down to drag the smallest of the four guys over to the storage room Braden had found. “After that fight, the rest of this mission should be a piece of cake.”
Braden looked at her sideways.
She laughed. “What? You’re doubting my instincts now?”
Chapter 18
