Never been more disgusted with himself either. He’d taken the bait.
“Vic isn’t a werewolf,” Donny said, but his voice was more uncertain now. “Right, Vic?”
Vic didn’t answer. The cops would run his license or fingerprints and he would be outted. Fuck. He loved this job.
Cian had done it. He was going to get rid of Vic and leave Lyric unprotected.
Shhit.
“Look man, I really can’t do a cage. Can we just talk out here?” he begged the police officer. “Out in the open.”
“So you can escape? Hell no.” He tossed him handcuffs. “Put those on. We have protocol with werewolves. We can’t touch you. It’s shoot-on-site if you fight an arrest. Do us all a favor and make this easy.”
Vic squeezed his eyes closed, trying to rattle the visions of attacking.
Cian was sitting to the side, leaning against his back wheel. The officers weren’t looking at him, so he was smiling.
“Weak,” Vic said. “You used to be a UFC fighter and now look at you. Sniveling on the side of the road.”
The smug smile faded, and anger flashed in Cian’s eyes.
“I wonder what your old coaches would think of you now. You got your ass kicked last night. You’re crying in the street today.”
“Stop talking,” the officer demanded. He kicked a pair of handcuffs closer to him, and now both of the officers had their weapons aimed at him.
“Couldn’t even keep your mate with a Maker Bond,” Vic said low. Oh, he had him. From the look in Cian’s eyes, he had him. He understood the game now. “Little Bitch-boy running errands for the Elders—”
Cian’s wolf ripped out of him, and he bolted to Vic. His animal exploded from him and he went to war. This time it would be death. This time he wouldn’t have mercy.
Vic lost his mind and the world disappeared around them. There were no police…no humans…only the need to punish Cian.
This time he would destroy the threat to Lyric.
Nothing else mattered but the pain he inflicted on Cian.
Nothing mattered until the gunshots rang out, and pain ripped through Vic’s head.
And then…nothing mattered at all.
Chapter Nine
Something wasn’t right.
For the twentieth time, Lyric checked the mouth of the road that led into the clearing. And for the twentieth time, Vic’s truck wasn’t there. She checked her phone again.
The delivery driver was dropping Vic’s house on the concrete pad near the tree line right now, and Vic wasn’t here to oversee it.
She texted him again.Hey Hot Vicious. The driver couldn’t wait anymore. He’s taking a guess on which way you want the house to face. Where are you?Send.
She’d had an awful sinking feeling in the pit of her chest for the past hour, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. His last text had explained that he was going to try and get an entire floor drywalled at work so he wouldn’t have his phone on him for a little while. Surely, he’d just gotten caught up with the task.
But he was missing the delivery of his house. He was only supposed to be working a half-day today.
“I tried to call him but no answer for me either,” Destiny said, approaching from her house. From the way she held her cell phone up to her ear, she was probably trying to call Vic a second time.
Lyric sighed and wrapped her arms tighter around her chest as another wave of dread washed through her.
The sound of a truck engine brushed her sensitive ears, and Lyric turned for the mouth of the road again only to find Liam’s truck picking it’s way to his house a minute later.
