“I’m not as strong as they are. It’s stupid to attack that way.”
“It’s stupid to have strength and never use it.” He heard the heavy stomp of a foot on a mat. “Again!”
Combat practice, probably hand to hand. And while they were busy beating each other up, he’d slip away and call for backup. He eased through the door, stepping silently on the hardwood floor. The slats were uneven and probably creaked. He chose to step right next to the wall to minimize the risk.
Narrow hallway, old home. Front door to his right, studio to his left, stairs behind him. He smelled a kitchen and old spaghetti sauce. Also books. There was traffic noise and light coming in around heavy curtains. Whoever lived here valued privacy.
The combat training was in the back, so best he ease out the front. He’d taken two steps when he heard a voice.
“Where you going, Detective Kennedy?” The wolf woman’s voice.
He straightened and turned to see his captor. She stood with her hands on her hips in the studio doorway. She’d been the one training. He could tell by the sheen of sweat on her skin, much of which was revealed by her outfit of tight sports bra and sleek leggings. Her short-cropped hair curled about her temples and her eyes were alight with humor.
She looked like one of the porn pictures he’d particularly enjoyed as a teen. Athletic body, full breasts, beautiful skin, and dripping with sexual hunger. Well, this woman wasn’t exactly dripping anything but amusement, but her body was built along the same sexy lines, and his mind couldn’t help but supply the details of what was currently covered in Lycra.
Her eyebrows went up in surprise as her nostrils flared. And then a fit woman in her sixties stepped into the light and blew out a low, appreciative whistle.
“And here I thought I’d seen everything,” she said. “Never expected to see a naked cop with an erection in my front hallway, but there you go. I can die happy now.”
Ryan had been focused on his injuries, on the echoes of pain that were almost as real as the dull ache throughout his torso. He wanted to be able to fight if he needed to. It didn’t bother him that he was naked. Shifters tended to forget that stuff, but the way the two women were looking at him made him feel like a teenage boy who’d walked into the wrong locker room.
He jerked his hands down to cover himself, but the abrupt movement set off a wave of dizziness that made him stumble. He felt his shoulder hit the wall and he grunted in pain.
“Whoa there, Five-O,” the older woman said as she grabbed his arm. “No need to be embarrassed. That’s a mighty fine penis you got there.”
“Hazel!” the wolf woman snapped. She’d made it to his other side with lightning speed. Or had he blacked out there for a moment? It was hard to tell. “You’re dead on your feet, Detective. You need to sit back down.”
“You’re wanted for questioning,” he said, imbuing his voice with all the strength he had. “Call the precinct. Tell them I’m here and call it a…” What was the code for emergency? Or officer in trouble? Hell, why couldn’t he remember? He’d memorized all of them by the age of eight. “Tell them—”
“Let’s get him upstairs,” the wolf woman said over him. Then the two women started maneuvering him toward the base of the stairs.
He tried to resist, but he hadn’t the strength. Damn, his head was spinning. “No!” he said, pleased that his voice had some power to it. “I need to make a call.”
“You can do that upstairs,” the wolf woman said.
“God, he’s heavy,” the older woman said with a grunt.
Yeah, he was. Close to 240 pounds, most of it muscle and bone. And right now, he wasn’t supporting himself. His damn knees kept folding like wet origami. Which meant the bulk of his weight was on the wolf woman who was handling him as if he were a ninety-pound weakling. That didn’t make sense, but then nothing did right then. He thought he smelled hybrid, but that couldn’t be right. She was obviously a shifter—had to be—but she wasn’t in wolf face now. As a human, she shouldn’t be able to manage him so easily.
Then the older woman stumbled. Tripped over something in the hall, and her support was gone. He tried to help. If his legs didn’t work, then he sure as hell could use his hands.
No go. There was nothing to grip and nowhere to go but down. Except he didn’t. All of his weight was on the wolf woman and she kept moving him steadily toward the stairs.
That was scary strong.
“Set me down,” he huffed. “I’m going…to crush you.”
“Climb the stairs,” she ordered.
She wasn’t going to give up, and he didn’t have the brainpower to figure it out. “Call. Cops.” Or maybe…“The Griz.”
She shot him a hard look. “Climb!” There was command in her voice, an authority that would not be disobeyed, and he felt a surge of strength in his body as he rallied. But he wasn’t going up the stairs. He needed out of here. Back to safety.
His head swam. “No. Call the Griz.”
“It’s not like I have their number on speed dial.”
She paused and leaned him against the wall. She wasn’t even breathless, and that should tell him something. Something important, but he couldn’t hold on to it. He was too busy holding on to the wall.
