Page 32 of Blood Bearon
Two people, talking, that way, he said with his hands.
Rachel nodded sharply, held up three fingers and shrugged. Her question was clear.
Where’s the third?
Khove strained hard, listening for a third voice, or anything. On a whim, he tested the air. Eyes wide, he motioned for Rachel to back away from the door. She looked around wildly, but her only path was straight back from the door. Frantically, she backed away, trying to move silently, a compromise between speed and stealth.
It was too slow. The door opened in front of them, and the third man walked through it. He paused in surprise as his eyes picked out the shape of Rachel in the dim lighting provided by the emergency exit light. He couldn’t knowwhowas there, but she was outline enough for him to realize it wassomeone.
Khove rose up from beside him like a wraith, pure shadow as his arm snaked around the man’s neck and squeezed. His other hand locked it into place, fingers covering the attacker’s mouth so he couldn’t make a noise.
“Shhh,” he spoke into the man’s ear. “Don’t fight it. That’s a large arm.”
Rachel came forward as he sank to the ground, pistol pointed right between the eyes. She gave a shake of her head, letting him know what would happen if he fought. A moment later, the body went limp.
“Don’t kill him,” she mouthed, her voice barely audible.
Khove grimaced, but let go. She was right. These were humans. Not shifters, not mages, but plain dirty human criminals. Rachel needed to be able to arrest them and put them in custody. Khove had no jurisdiction to wantonly kill them. His frustration was not born from letting them live, but from forgetting that he had no need to kill them. His bloodlust was taking over.
Keep it under control. Save it for Korred, the one who truly deserves your wrath.
With one of the criminals down, it was two on two, and together they crept into the main room, easing the door closed behind them. Khove nodded to their left. The pair was still over there, talking about…something. The words were too muffled, even for him.
They could see them now, two shadows, hunched over an object. The streetlights and storefront signs cast enough light for him to see that much, though he still couldn’t tell what they’d brought with them.
Suddenly, white light bathed the criminals. A split second later, Rachel’s voice barked out orders. “Freeze! Police!”
Khove hadn’t realized she was intending to go about things this way. He’d intended on sneaking up on them and taking them out simply by clunking their heads together. Caught in a crouch and entirely unprepared, he was unable to stop the criminals as they whirled, guns coming up.
As they did, he caught a glimpse of what was behind them.
“Don’t do it!” Rachel shouted, but it was too late.
There was only one way he could save her. She might get one of them, but not both. Not before she was riddled with bullets. Khove snarled and launched himself forward, aiming for the only thing he could think of: the detective.
Twisting mid-air, he put his back to the criminals. Thunder filled the restaurant, and he grunted as pain blossomed across his back. The bullets posed no threat to him, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any pain. The metal slugs were still traveling extremely fast, each impact like a hammer blow.
Rachel screamed as he caught her up in his leap, flinging them both up and over a nearby booth, only to crash down onto the table beyond. To his immense satisfaction, she landed on top of him, seemingly unharmed by the entire ordeal.
“Khove!” she yelped, somehow still holding her gun. “What the hell were you thinking?” Unimpressed, she rolled off him into a crouch and popped up to return fire as the criminals unloaded against the wooden wall.
“I was thinking,” he groaned as she ducked back down. “That we need to keep going. Like,now.”
“What are you talking about? They’re getting away!” she shouted at him, moving to pursue them back through the kitchen.
Khove got to his feet, ignoring the shouts from the criminals as they found their unconscious friend and dragged him after them.
“No time. Out the front door,” he rumbled, bodily grabbing the detective up and moving for the street exit.
“We have to go after them!” she protested, struggling.
It was useless. She might as well have been trying to bend steel bars. Khove had her locked up, and he stumbled toward the exit.
“Bomb,” he growled, holding her in front of him, shielding her as he kicked open the locked front doors. “They were setting up a—”
The world exploded around them.
17
