“Incarcerated? Clearly not.” I lean forward and give her another calm smile, although this time, I allow a little of my beast’s fury into my voice. “If you value your job, you should be quick about it.”
Within seconds of her speaking into her headset, the three security guards rush to block the walkway to the elevators, drawing their guns and aiming them at me.
The three plainclothes guys close in behind me, forming an arc at my back.
I didn’t expect them to make it easy for me. The old me would have splattered them with their own blood already. Hell, my beast wants me to.
But I’m in control of my fury now.
I know my worth, and with that certainty comes peace. With peace comes strength.
I won’t squander my strength on human men and shifters who don’t have to be my enemies.
Slowly raising my hands to show them I don’t carry a weapon, I step back from the desk. Of course, I don’t need a gun to do a lot of damage, and given my reputation, they should all fear me. The supernaturals will have been told that I’m an Unknown capable of extreme destruction, and the humans will believe I’m some sort of psychopath.
I’m certain my demon stepfather will have used his power of suggestion to its fullest extent to ensure the humans overlook anything supernatural and believe whatever he tells them without question.
“Striker Draven,” the wolf shifter growls. “Your stepfather won’t welcome your presence here.”
Keeping my senses peeled, I turn to him, even though my back is now to the guards with guns. I hope I don’t regret it, but the wolf shifter’s choice of words isn’t exactly what I was expecting. I expected him to threaten me with bodily harm or tell me I was not welcome, full stop. I didn’t expect him to specify that it's my stepfather who won’t want me here.
“I’m fully aware of how my stepfather will feel,” I say, meeting the guy’s eyes.
He’s dressed in a cheap, ill-fitting suit, and his dark hair is scruffy. He’s shorter than the other two but broader in the shoulders. Height has nothing to do with strength, so I don’t underestimate him.
“I’m afraid I won’t be leaving until I speak with Oliver,” I continue. “I’m happy for you to escort me up to see him. At gunpoint, if it makes you more comfortable.”
The wolf shifter eyes me warily, but the other two—the bear and jaguar—both smirk.
“How about in a body bag?” the bear asks, cracking his knuckles and stretching his neck.
Nowthat’sthe threat I was expecting.
The jaguar snickers, his pupils and the shape of his eyes becoming feline. His nose wrinkles as he snarls. “After we break every bone in your body and beat you to a pulp.”
Okay, so these two love their jobs.
The wolf, on the other hand, continues to study me carefully, eyes narrowed, posture wary.
I read a certain level of respect in his body language.
He must recognize that I won’t go down easily, an attitude that’s proven when he takes a quick step back instead of joining the fight when the bear lunges at me.
The bear’s fist swings at my face, but I see it coming a mile away. It’s only when my opponent is invisible that I can be defeated, and even then, only of my own choice.
I duck down and dart to the left, leaving the bear to stumble into the side of the reception desk.
I thump the jaguar in the stomach on my way past him, forcing him to bend. Spinning, I ram my elbow down onto his spine. I could break his back, but I restrain myself.
Meanwhile, the bear comes right back at me, but I use the falling jaguar’s body as leverage, leaping upward and gaining speed, achieving exactly the trajectory I need so that the bear plows his own face into my fist.
Smack!
Again, I could have broken bones, both cheek and jaw, but I limited the force behind the punch, content with knocking the bear out.
He drops, unconscious, to the floor next to the groaning jaguar, whose spine is clearly spasming.
Despite the fact that I avoided breaking bones, the sound of my fist cracking across the bear’s face must have alarmed the receptionist enough that she quickly ducked beneath her desk. No doubt, there’s some kind of panic button beneath it.
