Page 4 of Bind Me

So, to succeed in this House, you have to be better than the best.

Oblivious to me glaring at him, Scout groans under his breath. “There’s something bad about this place. I feel it,” he mutters.

I roll my eyes. “Are you letting a bit of fog spook you?”

He shoots me a narrowing stare over his shoulder, almost challenging me, and suddenly, he’s moving forward quickly to prove his point that he’s not afraid. I chuckle under my breath, and as the last droplets of rain patter against the cobblestones, I speed up my walk along the docks. I feel the weight of a taser on my belt and the blade in my boot.

Approaching A32, my insides tighten like they do on every mission. I scan the building for security cameras… none that I can see.

Even at five foot three with bright aquamarine hair, I’m a storm to be dealt with.

The groaning sounds of the docks fade behind us, replaced by the soft squelch of our shoes against the damp planks.

Pressing my shoulder against the cold, wet wall of the warehouse, I glance over at Scout with a pointed look. I signal for him to move, and he goes left. I go right, each of us slipping through the shadows to check the perimeter.

My pulse is racing frantically on the off chance that I cross paths with Zane, our target. The guy’s a hybrid, half horse shifter, half bird. And every inch an asshole for the atrocities he’s committed.

On fast feet, I reach the rear of the warehouse, where a looming silhouette of a rusted crane hangs overhead. The air is cold against my skin, the wind picking up and blowing through my ponytail. My breathing is speeding as Scout steps out of the fog, his short hair combed off his face, broad forehead creased, and the edges of his mouth pinched tight with his worry. The guy’s in his midthirties, married, and fierce to prove himself, but I don’t trust him. Something about him irks me.

“All clear,” he whispers, leading to the rear entry into the joint.

Clenching my teeth, I steady my nerves. “Stay close and don’t wander off. Got it?”

He nods, his jawline tight. He stands at five-eight, and I can see it in his posture. He hates taking orders from me, but I’m the senior bounty hunter on this mission, so he can go fuck every damn last drop of his ego.

Taking a deep inhale, I reach for the door handle, my fingers wrapping around the cold metal. I ease it open gently, the hinges giving a faint groan that has me freezing for a moment. When no one comes running for us, we slip inside, our movements as silent as the fog outside.

The thing with our job is that most of our time is spent tracking down criminals, sneaking up on them before they know we’re onto them. Once they see you, there’s only a few seconds to secure the target, or they’ll be long gone.

The inside of the warehouse is vast and shadowy, divided by walls into three sections. The one directly in front of us is open-plan and filled with stacked wooden crates. The other two areas lead into opposite rooms. One has the door open, and it’s pitch black inside, so I have my gaze swinging on the one to my left. There’s a dim light coming out from the ajar door, almost inviting us.

Shivers crawl up my arms, and I pull out my taser, noticing Scout does the same. One zap and we take our target down long enough to pounce on him and tie him up. It’s the quickest way to bring him down with minimal damage.

We move steadily, our steps measured and silent, while I scan every dark corner and potential ambush point. Peering through the ajar door, I find a large open space. Five offices are to our left, and the nearby ones seem to store a bunch of cages. It’s dark inside, except for the light pouring in through the open doors. Across from the offices stands a small forklift and more crates.

My ears strain for anything that might reveal Zane’s presence. Nothing, only the soft creak of the building settling and the escalating wind outside.

I signal for Scout to join me in checking the offices with a flick of my hand, seeing as the rest of the place is open space and not hiding anyone. Step by step, we approach the first office, and inside, there are at least a dozen animal cages tossed inside. There’s a feral, powdery, barnyard smell in here, and I scrunch up my nose.

“This is the place. I knew he’d hide in here. I can smell the animals,” Scout whispers the obvious, completely contradicting himself from earlier.

I nod and don’t bother answering as we move to the first few offices, finding more cages, as if someone has been fast to transport animals through here. My chest tightens at the thought of these monsters hurting innocent animals, propelling me to take Zane down faster.

By the time I reach the fourth office, tension builds. I open the door slowly to a dark room smelling heavily of animals, but there’s also a charged electric stink. I can’t see anything but a couple of empty cages on the floor, lit by the dim light behind me. The rest of the room is pitch black. Just as I move to step inside, a sharp, unmistakable sound slices through the silence behind us.

I freeze, then spin around in the doorway, expecting to find Zane. Instead, I catch sight of Scout making a quick dash across the warehouse area. He’s near crates and a forklift, heading for another office door I’d missed.

“Scout, what are you doing?” I whisper, but he doesn’t respond.

I barely have a moment to process this when another sound grabs my attention, coming from the front door of the building. My gaze shoots in that direction to my far left as the door lets out a drawn-out groan that pierces through the space.

I dart into the office, swallowed by shadows. Crouching in the darkness near the doorway, I leave it slightly ajar to watch who’s entering. I peer out quickly to Scout, who’s fiddling with the locked door.

I’m going to murder him. Idiot. If he fucks up this important mission for me, I’m going to be pissed.

My heart pounds against my ribs. Scout suddenly lunges to hide behind the forklift just as the front door swings fully open. Jerking back into the confines of the shadows, crouching low, I watch a tall man stride into the warehouse. His black coat flutters around him like he has the wings of a dark angel, his steps determined and fast. The keys in his hand jingle, and his black hair is drawn back.

Except that’s not Zane.

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