I rolled my eyes, only for my reflection to see. “I want you to pick a fucking personality,” I mumbled, knocking my head against the window. “You insult me in one breath and then stroll down memory lane in the next? It’s fucking exhausting trying to figure out which version of you I’m going to get.” I turned my head toward him. “And in case you were wondering, I can’t stand either of them.”
Malik snorted, unfazed. “We say the same thing about you.” He glanced at me, shaking his head as he faced the road. “Not only the hunters who came back with James—the ones,like me, who stayed and charged into that warehouse with you fromthe very beginning. None of us knows which version of you we’ll get if we call on you for help: Joanna Sullivan, werewolf hunter. Or Little Red, theAlpha’shunter.”
My gaze fell from his side profile to his right hand, which no longer rested on the stick, but squeezed it like the car owed him money.
Neither of us said anything for the rest of the trip.
I skimmed through the saved documents on my phone and was pleasantly surprised by how quickly I found my old list of affirmations. Opening the doc, I read the first one my gaze landed on.
I will receive the messages the universe has for me today.Ugh.
It always smelled on this side of town. Malik and I slowed our breaths once the heartbreaking stench of poverty and broken promises wafted through the car vents. Here, werewolves hunted humans under the treaty’s protection. And the blood and urine of their prey stained most back alleys.
So, one can imagine how irritating it was to see Deandre Hill leaning against his SUV. He’d already closed off the street with bright yellow tape tied around two poles.
“Joey,” he greeted as I stepped out of the car. He was loading silver bullets into his gun. “So, Viper wasn’t messing with me after all? Joanna Sullivan is willingly assisting the NBSA?”
He wasn’t in one of his expensive suits. He wore a non-descript black hoodie, a pair of dark-wash jeans, and a pair of brown Tims.
Who the fuck was this guy?
My frown deepened when Malik walked over and dapped him up.
Unbelievable.
“Another workout buddy, Malik?”
Malik flipped me the middle finger. “What we got, D?”
Hill holstered his gun and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. He spent the next two minutes flipping through photos, explaining therescue or recovermission.
On the word of one of his CIs, werewolf squatters had taken up residence in the abandoned store at the end of the block. Not only were they uprising supporters, but they were possibly holding at least two human hostages in the building.
I shifted my weight and narrowed my eyes. “What makes you think they’re hostagesworthyof being saved and not humans your bosses would gladly sign death certificates for?”
Another government-issued SUV pulled up behind Hill’s.
“She asked a valid question,” Malik declared, his eyes still pinned on the Chevy Suburban.
Hill swiped on his phone once more and held it out for me to see the screen, as if it provided an answer.
The girl on the flyer had promising brown eyes. The blue graduation cap atop her head couldn’t contain her brunette curls, and the playful smile on her face suggested she might’ve known it.
“This one’s been missing for two weeks.” Hill pocketed his phone as Tobias and Viper stepped down from the Chevy. “She just turned nineteen. No body’s been discovered.”
The assignment was an easy one, and Malik thought it would be ‘fun’ if he and I went in first. He asked the Bureau agents to give us five minutes before coming in after us. Hill agreed to the game after some convincing from Tobias.
Tobias nodded at Malik with an accomplished smile and kissed the crystal affixed to his badge before readying his gun.
I had my knife with me, but Malik let me borrow one of his silver knuckles—since he and I didn’t get to spar, he joked. I hated to admit it, but it’s what I needed. The auras of the wolvesnearby were pitiful; my knife would’ve been too easy. And with everything else, I didn’t just want to win. I needed a victory.
Piles of garbage replaced flowers in the planter pots by the sidewalk. Graffiti-laden boards smothered the front door and windows, preventing them from revealing any secrets within.
Malik waved me to the back of the store, where I followed him eagerly. He pressed his back against the wall, aiming his gun at the large hole in the brickwork.After you,he mouthed.
I kept my hand close to my knife as I ducked inside. I scanned the room, my eyes adjusting to the dark. It was small and occupied by a single chair up against the far wall.
Malik crept up behind me and nodded toward the wooden door in the corner. We inched toward it, and as I placed my hand on the knob, the unmistakable sound of shredding clothes disrupted the silence.
