He frowned down at her relatively small hands, wondering what she was talking about. But then a wave of dizziness hit, and he had to grab her arm just to keep upright.
“Great,” she said as she guided him to lean against the wall. “I get the one shifter in all of Detroit who is about to pass out.”
“I’m fine,” he said, but the words came out slurred. Oh hell. He really was fucked up.
“And I’m Annie Oakley. Come on. Let’s get you topside.”
Sounded like a great idea to him, except when he took a step, it was all he could do to keep from tipping over. She caught him with her shoulder, planting it square into his chest. He grunted as she connected, but he was able to take a few more steps this way.
Then he inhaled. Oh hell. He could smell it clear as day. “Hybrid. Coming.”
She looked at him, and her expression shut down even more. “This way.”
He didn’t bother nodding. It took too much energy away from putting one foot in front of the other.
Chapter 4
Are you crazy?”
Yes, she was, Francesca thought as she stood outside her car. It was crazy to bring a man to their secret “book club” location. Worse that the man was a grizzly-shifter and a cop. But when Detective Kennedy had passed out in her car, she could think of only one safe place to take him. Here. Hazel’s secret dojo PLACE, which stood for “Private Library and Cosmetics Emporium.” And then she’d begged Hazel—the closest thing to a mother she had—to come out of the dojo to help her.
Except Hazel had been more worried about the blood on Frankie’s clothes than the unconscious man in the front seat. Hazel had reason to not like men.
“Why’s he naked?”
“Because his clothes were ripped off when he shifted.” The remains of his shoes, pants, and boxers were in the sewer. She hadn’t seen any shirt, but that was because it was probably in fragments in the water. All that was left on his body was the detective’s badge dangling from a chain around his neck. It had remained on the bear and the man, though it was barely recognizable now beneath all the blood.
“He belongs in a hospital,” Hazel stated.
“Are you sure?” Francesca pressed. The woman had once been an army nurse and had medical experience. “I think it’s exhaustion. You know, from shifting too many times.” She winced. “He also got shot by, um, someone who shouldn’t have shot him.”
Hazel grimaced as she gingerly stretched forward to take the detective’s pulse. “You wolves are shooting cops now?”
“I’m not. I’m trying to save the guy.”
“A cop shifter.” Then Hazel gasped as she put the pieces together. The woman was sharp as a tack. “Is this Detective Kennedy? Your idiot crush from three years ago?”
“He was not an idiot crush! He’s a smart shifter who was helping the community, and so I told people. He was doing—”
Hazel pointed an arthritic finger at her. “Right there. That’s the idiot part. Good God, what you did to that poor man, and he didn’t even know why he was a target.”
She blew out a breath, her temper fraying. It had already been a long day in a very long few weeks. “Are you going to help me with him or not? He just needs a place to rest.”
“He’s a cop! I can’t have him here.”
Fair point. PLACE often housed runaway wives and children. The organization survived in part because she and Hazel kept law enforcement and crazy husbands completely in the dark as to its real nature. Everyone referred to it as a “book club,” the sign read “Private Library and Cosmetics Emporium,” and no one ever brought an adult male here.
Until today.
“We’ll just keep him away from everyone. That’s what the attic’s for.”
“You going to haul him up there?” Hazel blew out a breath. “Why didn’t you take him back to the Griz?”
“Because I would have been spotted. Now are you going to help me—”
“All right. All right. Go get the wheelchair.” She grimaced. “And a blanket to cover him up.” She looked around the parking lot. Francesca had slid her Prius into a secluded area surrounded by fences and topped by trees. But you never knew who might be spying, and they had reason to be careful.
She started to head back inside while Hazel unbuckled Detective Kennedy. She was halfway to the door when the woman grunted.
