“Get your asses moving,” he shouted to Fish and Ocho. “LaSalle is waiting for us at the drop.”
CHAPTER 17
She couldn’t stand the waiting.
After pacing in her brownstone Darkhaven for the past couple of hours, Devony had finally given in to her impatience and hopped on her motorcycle. Rafe’s promise to update her once the job was over should have been reassurance enough, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
She headed past the drop location near Atlantic Wharf, but saw no sign of the men anywhere near the marina. They were late, which only deepened her sense of dread.
Gunning her bike, she sped for the industrial park near the shipping terminal. The sick feeling in her stomach eased a bit when she spotted the gang’s vehicle parked out front, Ocho jogging around from the back to hop into the driver’s seat. Cruz and Fish each carried a bulky crate out from the warehouse and loaded them into the truck.
Thank God. It appeared they were preparing to roll out right now.
Maybe that visual confirmation should have been enough to appease her. After all, she wasn’t even supposed to know about the gig tonight, let alone be there.
But one thing she didn’t see was Rafe.
The stench of gunfire hung in the air. And the closer she got to the warehouse, the more certain she was that she smelled blood.
Human blood, not Breed.
Yet that did nothing for the gnawing alarm that was building inside her chest.
She sped for the idling truck, practically leaping off her motorcycle once she reached it. Cruz was still at the rear of the vehicle with Fish. He rolled the door down and slammed the lock tight as Devony ran up to them.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Tell me what happened,” she said, panic climbing up her throat. “Where’s Rafe? Is he here with you?”
Cruz didn’t answer. He jerked his goateed chin at Fish. “Get your ass in the cab. Now!”
Fish hesitated only for a second, his face uncertain as he glanced at Devony. Then he hurried away as ordered.
On a snarl, Devony grabbed a fistful of the gang leader’s shirt. She didn’t have the patience to pretend she wasn’t prepared to do him serious harm. “Damn you, Cruz. Tell me what the hell is going—”
He shoved her hard, tearing out of her grasp. As she staggered back, he darted around to the other side of the open cab. “Ocho! Let’s go!”
The truck lurched forward in a scream of spinning tires and smoking rubber.
Devony’s vision flooded with fire. Every particle of her being that was otherworldly, ferociously Breed, exploded to life inside her.
She leapt into the air, landing like a cat on the roof of the speeding truck.
Another leap and an airborne twist brought her boots down onto the hood of the vehicle, facing Ocho and Cruz’s stunned expressions on the other side of the windshield.
She smashed her fist through the glass and grabbed Cruz by the throat. “Where. The. Fuck. Is. Rafe?”
Cruz sputtered and choked, clawing at her fingers. “Fuck you, bitch!”
“Holy shit!” Ocho’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull behind the wheel. “She’s a damn Breed!”
The truck swerved, but Devony rode it out. As she held Cruz in her punishing grip, she noticed something odd about his clothes. Bright blue, strangely illuminated paint splattered the front of his shirt and jeans. He had some on his hands too.
No, not paint.
What the fuck?
In the midst of the jostling and chaos up front, Fish crept forward from the back of the truck. “He’s in the warehouse, Brinks.” He swallowed hard, gave a halting shake of his head. “The liquid UV from the crates . . .”
