Page 90 of Her Wolf

“But he’s—”

“Drugged, not dead. He’ll survive.” It was harsh, but it was true. Lars was no stranger to amphetamines, psychoactives, or opiates. He probably hadn’t had more than one drink before being drugged, so there wasn’t any danger of whatever he’d been spiked with mixing with too much alcohol and causing issues with his respiratory system.

Right now, Cora was their priority.

Even as the flood of logical thoughts tore through his mind, Finn felt a pang of regret at having to close the door on Lars’s pale, unmoving body.

Bailey was staring down the corridor when Finn came up behind him. He grabbed the man’s sleeve, swung him around, and backed him hard into the wall. He almost threw a punch too, but managed to keep himself in check. Bailey flinched as if he’d been expecting that blow too.

“What the fuck did you do?” Finn spat.

“I only took my eye off her for one second—”

And then he did punch him, because his beast was baying for blood and it was that or explode with fury.

Bailey grunted, but he took the shot in stride, turning his head back and sticking out his chin.

As if he knew he’d deserved it.

“Did you see anything that can help us? Was Ana with her?” Finn realized he still had a fist bunched in the front of Bailey’s button up shirt, and he tore it away with a grimace.

Bailey staggered, caught himself against the wall, and touched his jaw as if it ached.

Good. He hoped it hurt like hell for the next week.

“It was just her. I was on my way back. But it was too loud—” Bailey lifted his radio “—I couldn’t hear you, man. I had to—”

“That’s it?”

Bailey drew a visible breath, and glanced down the corridor as if steeling himself. Then he looked back at Finn, and Finn’s skin began crawling like it was in a hurry to leave.

He took a step forward, shoulders lifting, but Bailey put up his hands. “There was a guy. It looked like they were dancing, but I wasn’t sure. When I looked again, they were gone.”

“A guy…” Finn repeated slowly. “Does this guy have a face? Hair? Clothes? Something we can use to fucking identity him with?”

Bailey gave a hurried nod. “Long, dark hair. Wore a weird mask, like two sides of a coin. Posh clothes.”

“That only describes like half the fucking men in here,” Finn said through his teeth. He grabbed Bailey’s shoulder, shoving the man in front of him as he headed down the corridor.

“November, this is Mike. Come in.” His voice sounded strained. It was no surprise, his beast was foaming at the mouth.

“Yeah?” came Neo’s reply.

“Possible suspect: long dark hair, two-faced mask, suit. He was dancing with Cora. Over.”

“Dark hair?”

Finn’s skin tightened. “Yes. Over.”

There was a long moment of staticky noise. “Think we got him, Milo.”

“And Cora?”

He wasn’t surprised when Neo said, “No. He’s alone.”

But he hadn’t come alone. There was obviously a team at work here tonight. Someone to distract Cora, someone else to take her away. Three, four other people. Maybe more. Lookouts, and guards, and muscle.

And every single one of them had slipped past him. Past Lars. Past Bailey.

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