Wicked Ride Read online

  Kellach lifted an eyebrow, his gaze not faltering from Lex’s.

  Bundt slammed a hand on the table. “Stop staring at yourself in the mirror, and look at me. Do you wanna die?”

  Kellach didn’t flinch.

  Masterson sat across from Adam. “You look like the smart one.”

  Adam stared at him, no expression on his angled face. “I am.”

  “So make a deal. Tell us what happened with Spike.” Masterson flipped open a file in front of him. “These are the stills from a video we have showing you as the killers.” His voice lowered to conspiratorial. “We know Spike was a bad guy—a dealer and a junkie. You might’ve been defending yourself, and things went too far.”

  Simone tapped the picture. “I’d like to see the video, please.”

  Masterson shook his head. “Just tell us what happened.”

  Lex crossed her arms. The Dunnes were too smart to confess, so refusing to reveal the tape was stupid. When Simone calmly explained that fact, Bundt reached for a remote control and showed the video on the far wall.

  When it wound down, Simone smiled at the detectives. “That’s it?”

  “That’s enough,” Masterson said with confidence. “There’s enough there, with the gore and burned flesh, for a jury to conclude your boys here killed poor Spike, who’d had a hard life and had made good by working with the police. Poor, poor, Spike.”

  Simone scoffed. “I’m sure that video was doctored, and I’ll prove it in court if necessary. For now, let me just say that all it appears to show is my clients assisting a poor man, a victim, off a tree after somebody else killed him.”

  “Oh. How about those shovels?” Masterson leaned toward Simone, and the enforcers tensed instantly.

  She waved them back. “Shovels are for yard work.”

  “Ah.” Bundt slapped both hands on the table. “Let’s say your clients did help poor Spike down. Where’s the body now?”

  Simone blinked. “Well, unfortunately, since that video is doctored and those in it couldn’t be my clients, they have no knowledge of where poor Spike is now. Where did you obtain this DVD, gentlemen?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Bundt muttered.

  “Oh, but it does.” Simone smiled again. “If you can’t authenticate the DVD, you can’t use it in court, as you must surely know.”

  Bundt flipped the file closed. “Authentication requires proof that the DVD hasn’t been doctored, and we will provide that. Authentication does not require knowing who shot the video.”

  Lex nodded behind the glass.

  Kell’s eyes flared.

  Thoughts rolled through her brain. Who would want Kellach and Adam shut down? If they’d truly murdered Spike, why wasn’t the murder on the video? Only the cleanup had been captured. So . . . if they hadn’t murdered Spike, another witch had. Who? And why had the Dunnes cleaned up the mess? Because Spike had obviously been killed by a witch?

  She put some of the pieces together. Whoever had killed Spike knew he’d been talking to the police . . . so the warning had been for the police, and Kellach had covered it up.

  She lifted her head, looking at Kell. His gaze provided no answers. She turned on her heel. If she couldn’t get the answers from him, she’d get them from another source.

  Quick steps took her to the adjacent interview room, where Garrett and Logan sat on the other side of a table, hands cuffed to it. The room was more casual and lacked a two-way mirror or recording devices, because she really didn’t want their answers recorded right now. She smiled at them and walked inside to sit. “Hello, boys.”

  Suddenly, they looked like anything but boys. Neither twitched an impressive muscle, and both stared, no expressions on their hardened faces. For the first time, she could see the predators lurking beneath their excellent manners and huge appetites. She wanted to see more and reached across the table, grasping Garrett’s light-refracting eyeglasses.

  “I wouldn’t,” Logan rumbled.

  She removed the glasses and gasped. Sizzling, metallic gray, almost silver corneas surrounded a black pupil. She leaned closer. Garrett met her gaze without flinching.

  “You have beautiful eyes,” she murmured.

  “That’s my line,” Garrett deadpanned.

  She slid the glasses back on in case anybody came in. “Why don’t you wear contacts?”

  “I do, but they bug me, so I usually just keep the glasses on when away from home,” Garrett said.

  She frowned. “Do all vampires have eyes like yours?”

  “All vampires have secondary eye colors that are metallic, but most also have a fairly normal eye color. I’m unique.” Garrett leaned toward her, and his chain clunked on the table. “You have to get our guns back.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do that. Sorry.”

  “You have to.” Logan leaned over and lowered his voice. “It’s against our laws to let, ah, other people have our guns. You know, proprietary information and all that.”

  “Having weapons without the proper permits breaks my laws.” She folded her hands together.

  Garrett cut a look at Logan. “Listen, ma’am. You can’t break our laws.”

  The boys were worrying about her? Man. They had better clue in.

  “I’m not subject to your laws.”

  Logan’s face cleared. “Ah, I see the problem. Say you’re from Washington and you go to California. You’re subject to the California laws while there. If you rob a store, you’ll face prison time in California, right?”

  “Yes.” She frowned. Where in the world was he going with this?

  He nodded. “Okay. So, you were in one species and subject to human laws. But when you mated Dunne, you became part of another species and are subject to their—our—laws. And giving proprietary weaponry to humans is a big-assed no-no of a law, begging your pardon, ma’am.”

  “I think you two should worry about yourselves right now and not me.” She put on her best cop face.

  Garrett’s eyebrows lifted to his hairline. “You’re in a lot more trouble than we are right now. We can get out of here pretty easily, but there’s nowhere you can hide from the Realm or the enforcers.”

  She tilted her head. “The enforcers?”

  “Yeah. The Coven Nine enforcers will be charged with hunting you down for breaking a law.” Logan cut Garrett a look. “She has no clue.”

  Garrett nodded. “Yeah, I’m getting that.” He blew out air. “We should probably confiscate the guns for her, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. Perhaps the Nine and the Realm will go easy on her. She’s new.” Logan snapped his fingers. “Wait a sec. Nobody knows about the guns yet, do they? I mean, when will they be tested?”

  Lex shook her head, wondering when the hell had she lost control of the conversation. “Probably not until tomorrow or the next day. Guys? I need you to focus here. You’re in trouble.”

  Garrett bit his lip. “So the only people who know about the guns are us, the Dunnes, and the Grizzlies.”

  “If we don’t talk, and the Dunnes don’t burn her alive, then she’s in the clear.” Logan smiled. “Bear thinks you’re cute, so he won’t rat you out.”

  Bear thought she was cute? Wait a minute.

  “The guns are secured, guys. There’s no getting to them,” she patiently explained.

  Garrett smiled, and Logan laughed outright.

  The door flew open, and Dage Kayrs strode inside. Up close, the vampire king was bigger and badder than she’d thought in the diner.

  The boys instantly sat at attention.

  Lex started to stand, but Dage gestured her back down before flashing a badge and handing over a federal court order. “My apologies, but these two are in federal custody.”

  Oh, hell no. She shook her head. “Not a chance, King.”

  He smiled. “I have the badge, the documentation, and the understanding of your chief. So either you know something he doesn’t, and you’re willing to share such information, or you’ll follow this very clear, ver
y legal federal document.” He focused on the boys. “The guns are also part of an international case, and my partner is confiscating them now. With proper documentation of course.”

  Garrett winced. “Your partner wouldn’t be a massive guy with golden eyes, would he?”

  Dage shot a hard look at his nephew. “No. Your father is on a mission elsewhere.” He smiled at Logan. “I brought a member of your family.”

  Logan groaned and slumped in his chair. “Which brother?”

  Dage’s smile held a tinge of evil, and Lex almost felt sorry for the kid.

  The door opened, and an incredibly petite blonde walked inside, holding an evidence box.

  “Mom!” Logan exclaimed, jumping to his feet along with Garrett. Their chains held tight, and both lurched forward but remained standing. Red colored Logan’s face from his neck to his ears.

  Mom? The woman was absolutely stunning yet terribly small. No way had she birthed Logan Kyllwood. Lex stood and looked down at someone way too young to be Logan’s mom. The woman held out a hand. “Felicity Kyllwood.”

  “Federal officer,” Dage said dryly.

  Felicity waved his statement away. “For goodness sake. It’s so nice to meet you. Thanks for putting up with the boys.” Her voice was unnaturally hoarse to the point of being edgily sexy.

  Lex carefully shook a fine-boned hand. Felicity had long, almost white, blond hair and eyes blacker than Kell’s. She was fine boned, delicate, and incredibly graceful.

  Lex leaned toward her. “Are you a vampire?” she whispered.

  Felicity blinked. “Vampires are only male. Well, usually. I’m a demon, Detective.” She faced her son. “Am I to understand you boys were caught with our weapons?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the boys said in unison, looking down at the table, their shoulders slumping.

  Lex frowned. “We raided the place, and I’m sure they weren’t planning on that. The guns were well hidden, I heard.”

  Dage bit his lip. “That’s kind of you, Detective.”

  She couldn’t help but defend the poor kids.

  “We’ll discuss it later,” Felicity said with a sweet smile, her voice husky and low.

  The kids groaned.

  Left without a choice, unless she wanted to challenge Dage’s credentials and tell everyone he was actually a vampire, Lex had to release the kids.

  Garrett gave her a half-hug, and Logan nudged her with his hip as they passed. He whispered, “Don’t be surprised if the entire surveillance system goes down and loses the records of the last few hours. Solar flares and all that.”

  So, there’d be no record of Dage, Felicity, or the boys. Or any evidence of the Dunne brothers’ crime. Where the hell had reality gone?

  That left her with a limited time to figure out who’d killed Spike before the Dunne brothers also pulled some international intrigue and disappeared with their knowledge of Apollo and the manufacturer and distributors.

  Over her dead body.

  Chapter 32

  Lex wandered by the other interrogation room to find the interview still going on, with Masterson asking questions and Simone stonewalling him.

  Enough of that crap. She walked back into the squad room and punched up Bundt’s computer to watch the video again. She slowed it down, watching carefully as Daire and Adam released Spike from the tree with little care but no real anger or intent.

  Her stomach began to roll. If either of those men had wanted to kill Spike, they would’ve done it easily and without exhibiting him on a tree.

  She’d been hurt, and she’d been angry because Kellach had lied to her. Now that her mind had cleared, she was still hurt and pissed, but she realized there was no way the Dunne brothers had killed Spike. The question now became how the manufacturer of Apollo had discovered Spike’s connection to the police.

  Spike wasn’t the brightest guy, so the answer could be as simple as he’d been followed. Also, who’d sent the video—and why?

  She bit her lip and called the precinct’s video and surveillance guru, a woman by the name of Sylvia, and asked her to take a look at the video for . . . well, anything . . . before directing her to put it on the internal server. Sylvia said she’d hurry and get it done, because she’d just received orders that the video and all pictures were part of a federal case, and she had to turn them over.

  Lex shook her head. “Do your best,” she whispered. Hell. It was just a matter of minutes before Bundt had to release the Dunnes.

  Lex’s gaze caught on the box of mail on her desk. Lifting her phone, she quickly dialed her sister.

  “Lexi? Is everything okay? What’s up?” Tori asked, her voice higher than normal.

  Lex rubbed her aching eyes. “I think everything’s fine, and I may have, ah, overreacted earlier, but I want you to stay where you are and keep Mom safe.” She breathed out air, not wanting to say the next words. “Dad got parole.”

  No sound ticked over the line until Tori spoke. “Fuck.”

  Yep. That summed it up.

  “Where are you?” Lex asked.

  “The Ham Motel on the outskirts. It’s cheap and out of the way.”

  Lex sighed. “I’ll be there in about an hour, and I’ll bring food.” She clicked off and started going through her mom’s mail, tossing most of it as junk. Finally, she reached the envelope from the penitentiary and had no qualms about opening it up and reading the letter from her father to her mother.

  Dearest Jennie,

  I miss you so much, and every day, I wish for a chance to make up for my past. To keep you safe and cherish you, as we both know you deserve. I could, once again, be the man I was during the first six months of our marriage, before I began to take drugs. Drugs ruined my life, and I am so very sorry. My kids look at me like I’m a 500 pound gorilla, and I’d give anything to go back to that November we spent in that quaint cottage by the sea. Please send me a letter as soon as you can, as I miss hearing your voice in my head. My friend is waiting for you, and we’re still working together to eradicate the poison in this place. He’s a warrior, as am I now.

  Keep our secret, dear one. We must keep our girls safe.

  Also, if there’s a way, and I know it’s a lot to ask, but please perhaps testify at my parole hearing this time. Or at least ask the girls not to testify against me. I’ve been successful in my work here, and now I have enemies. It’s time to do my work on the outside, where we can be together.

  My Love,

  Parker

  Lex frowned. What the hell was he talking about? What work? What friend? It was time to have a little chat with her mother, apparently. Lex stuffed the letter into her pocket and stomped toward the exit, only to run into Bundt and Masterson, both red faced and furious.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Fucking Dunnes,” Masterson spat. “Federal court order, saying they’re some sort of international operatives working with fucking Homeland Security. That the video is part of national security, and we have to turn it over.”

  Lex blinked. “I heard the same thing from records. Damn it.”

  “Bastards already sauntered out of here like they got away with murder.” Masterson punched the empty basket on her desk, and it flew across the room to hit the wall. “Like international cops are hanging with Pyro and Titans of Fire. Sorry about the basket.”

  “No worries.” Nice punch, actually. Her breath heated up, and a panic, purely feminine in nature, began to well through her. Kell was free?

  Masterson loped across the room and fetched the basket. “What did you do with all the mail?”

  She shrugged. “Mostly junk. I should check the post office box more often.”

  He dropped into his chair. “I can’t believe we had to let them go. A fucking SWAT raid, some decent evidence . . . and they walk out the door.” Masterson kicked his desk. “International case, my ass. I bet those fuckers are bringing those green guns over from Ireland and trading them for Apollo. Well, at least we still have
those guns.”

  Lex closed her eyes, once again the bearer of bad news. “Uh—” She gave him the scoop while backing toward the hallway. Finally, she finished just as he launched into a truly creative use of every expletive ever created. She couldn’t help the small chuckle when she shoved outside and into the raining night.

  Mud puddles, cracked asphalt, and glass lined her way to the truck parked at the rear of the station, under a weak light pole. She halted, water splashing up her legs.

  Kellach Dunne leaned back against his truck, his arms crossed, his stance wide. “Good evening, Detective.”

  The merest of threads held Kell’s control in check, and a low growl rumbled up from his chest upon seeing his mate. He’d hoped the chilled, pouring rain would dampen the temper roaring through him, yet each sharp prick had escalated the emotions boiling in his blood. Now that she was in sight, if she ran, the beast inside him would have no choice but to chase.

  His nostrils flared. Yeah, he wanted to chase and take her down.

  Her head lifted.

  Nope. No running away for his mate.

  “Waiting for me?” she asked.

  He smiled, the night narrowing in absolute focus to one woman. “Aye,” he whispered.

  A shudder wracked her body from his low tone but it was not nearly enough to appease him. Not after the night he’d had, not after considering the danger she’d purposely put herself in, by refusing to trust him.

  “Some of our scientists have a theory,” he said.

  She stayed very still, on alert, her gaze on him across the pavement separating them. “Oh?” she breathed.

  “Aye. A theory that all immortals share a common ancestor. One that gives us the extra chromosomes, one that makes us . . . more.” He pushed off from the truck, and her eyes widened. “A part definitely not human and much more akin to animal. Wild, free, and long-lasting.” If the woman didn’t learn his nature, how would she ever understand him?