he’d drawn in rough, slashing lines. “You, me, and Frank will go in here. Jim’ll be in the Hummer outside. The tellers will cave right in when they see the shotguns ...”
Miller’s eyes gleamed, yellow and cold. “’Specially if we shoot one of ’em first.”
“Right. We’ll ...” He jerked up from the schematic as his Direkind senses detected a burst of magic. “Oh, fuck.”
Warlock stepped through the dimensional gate, eight feet of white fur and gleaming black claws. They had never seen him in human form. Tom wasn’t sure he had one. “Go to your vehicles and prepare to gate out. I’ve found the cat.”
Hiding his irritation—Warlock’s idea of discipline was even bloodier than his own—Danvers tossed the pencil on the table and reached for his keys.
Eva looked into her father’s irritated hazel eyes, knowing she’d better talk fast. Preferably with at least a kernel of truth. “David and I had a little run-in with Ronnie Gordon last night. He’d beaten the heck out of Shelly and hit Terry a couple of times. Terry came banging on the door in hysterics, so David and I went over there. Ronnie pulled a gun on us, but David backed him down.”
“And he’s on the way now,” David said, right on cue. “He is armed. He seeks revenge.”
Bill gave him a long, cool look before transferring it to Eva. “Who writes your boyfriend’s dialog? I used to play Dungeons and Dragons with a guy who talked just like that.”
“He’s getting in character for a movie role. Please , Dad. Mom would kill me if I got you shot.”
Bill lowered his head like a bull. “I am not running from Ronnie Gordon. He needs his ass kicked.”
“Dad, you are not faster than a speeding bullet.” Eva hauled the Tahoe’s door open. The dome light came on, spilling light over the darkening parking lot. “Look, you can pound Ronnie when he’s not armed to the teeth. Right now, go home.”
David lifted his head and looked across the street. With a mutter that sounded like some exotic curse, he literally lifted her father off his feet and stuffed him into the Jeep.
“Dammit, get off !” Going red, Bill plowed a fist right into David’s face with a crack of bone on bone.
Eva’s heart catapulted into her throat. Oh, holy God, that tears it ...
David’s head didn’t even rock. He lowered his head, the better to subject Bill to a long, cool stare from his six-five height. “Do you really want your daughter in the line of fire? Because we both know she will not leave you.”
Bill’s rage-narrowed eyes widened as the shot struck home. He glowered at David as Eva held her breath. Finally he threw up his hands. “Fine. I’m gone. Take her and get out of here. I’ll deal with that bastard later.” He threw the Jeep into gear as Eva slammed the driver’s door with a grunt of relief. The Tahoe’s big tires screeched as he backed up and tore out of the parking lot, almost hitting a pair of motorcycles and a Hummer.
“Oh, man.” Eva shook her head as she watched the Tahoe’s taillights disappear up the street. “I hope that doesn’t blow up in our faces. I think Ronnie’s still in the county jail.”
“Your father is the least of our worries.” He jerked his chin toward the Harley-Davidson motorcycles and the Hummer. All three vehicles had pulled over onto the side of the road. A street lamp illuminated the motorcyclists as they dismounted. Two others piled out of the Hummer. “Those men smell like were.”
He was right. The scent of werewolf rode the cool night breeze: fur and magic and a trace of old blood. Claws, ripping into her guts, fanged jaws opening over her face, dripping hot saliva, the flash of yellow eyes ...
“In the car!” Big hands closed over her shoulders. She cried out in terror, swinging wildly, but a fierce shake snapped her out of the flashback. “We don’t have time for that. Get in the car!” David snarled, jerking the driver’s door open and bundling her inside.
Miller’s eyes gleamed, yellow and cold. “’Specially if we shoot one of ’em first.”
“Right. We’ll ...” He jerked up from the schematic as his Direkind senses detected a burst of magic. “Oh, fuck.”
Warlock stepped through the dimensional gate, eight feet of white fur and gleaming black claws. They had never seen him in human form. Tom wasn’t sure he had one. “Go to your vehicles and prepare to gate out. I’ve found the cat.”
Hiding his irritation—Warlock’s idea of discipline was even bloodier than his own—Danvers tossed the pencil on the table and reached for his keys.
Eva looked into her father’s irritated hazel eyes, knowing she’d better talk fast. Preferably with at least a kernel of truth. “David and I had a little run-in with Ronnie Gordon last night. He’d beaten the heck out of Shelly and hit Terry a couple of times. Terry came banging on the door in hysterics, so David and I went over there. Ronnie pulled a gun on us, but David backed him down.”
“And he’s on the way now,” David said, right on cue. “He is armed. He seeks revenge.”
Bill gave him a long, cool look before transferring it to Eva. “Who writes your boyfriend’s dialog? I used to play Dungeons and Dragons with a guy who talked just like that.”
“He’s getting in character for a movie role. Please , Dad. Mom would kill me if I got you shot.”
Bill lowered his head like a bull. “I am not running from Ronnie Gordon. He needs his ass kicked.”
“Dad, you are not faster than a speeding bullet.” Eva hauled the Tahoe’s door open. The dome light came on, spilling light over the darkening parking lot. “Look, you can pound Ronnie when he’s not armed to the teeth. Right now, go home.”
David lifted his head and looked across the street. With a mutter that sounded like some exotic curse, he literally lifted her father off his feet and stuffed him into the Jeep.
“Dammit, get off !” Going red, Bill plowed a fist right into David’s face with a crack of bone on bone.
Eva’s heart catapulted into her throat. Oh, holy God, that tears it ...
David’s head didn’t even rock. He lowered his head, the better to subject Bill to a long, cool stare from his six-five height. “Do you really want your daughter in the line of fire? Because we both know she will not leave you.”
Bill’s rage-narrowed eyes widened as the shot struck home. He glowered at David as Eva held her breath. Finally he threw up his hands. “Fine. I’m gone. Take her and get out of here. I’ll deal with that bastard later.” He threw the Jeep into gear as Eva slammed the driver’s door with a grunt of relief. The Tahoe’s big tires screeched as he backed up and tore out of the parking lot, almost hitting a pair of motorcycles and a Hummer.
“Oh, man.” Eva shook her head as she watched the Tahoe’s taillights disappear up the street. “I hope that doesn’t blow up in our faces. I think Ronnie’s still in the county jail.”
“Your father is the least of our worries.” He jerked his chin toward the Harley-Davidson motorcycles and the Hummer. All three vehicles had pulled over onto the side of the road. A street lamp illuminated the motorcyclists as they dismounted. Two others piled out of the Hummer. “Those men smell like were.”
He was right. The scent of werewolf rode the cool night breeze: fur and magic and a trace of old blood. Claws, ripping into her guts, fanged jaws opening over her face, dripping hot saliva, the flash of yellow eyes ...
“In the car!” Big hands closed over her shoulders. She cried out in terror, swinging wildly, but a fierce shake snapped her out of the flashback. “We don’t have time for that. Get in the car!” David snarled, jerking the driver’s door open and bundling her inside.
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