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Mickey laughed.
But he choked back the sound when a long, black car pulled up to the curb.
This was it.His ticket to fast times.
He grabbed the door handle. Jumped inside.
“You told the hunter?”
Damn but it was hot in there. Didn’t the dude know to turn on the fucking air in Louisiana? Mickey gave a grim nod. “Yeah, yeah, told him everything you said.”
Mr. Money had approached him at his arraignment. Mr. Money—Mickey liked to call him that because the bastard was gonna be giving him a shitload of money. He figured the name fit. Mr. Money had paid his bailin cashand promised him a hell of a lot more.
All he had to do was just make one phone call.
Easiest job he’d ever done.
A soft snick of sound—the doors had locked. Must be one of those automatic deals.
Mickey rubbed his fingers together. “You got my money?” He already had it spent. New clothes. Fast ride. Goodbye cops.
The car eased away from the curb. “I’ve got it.”
Fucking A. “So...” He had to know. “What’s gonna happen to the tiger?” He hoped the bastard got torn up. Clawed from head to foot.
The car turned into an alley. Mr. Money glanced over at him, smiling with too-sharp teeth.
What the hell?The guycouldn’tbe a shifter.
“I’m going to rip him apart.”
Mickey blinked. “Good. Good.” He realized he was sweating. It was the teeth. His nostrils quivered. No, no shifter scent. But the man couldn’t be a vamp because?—
“Just like I’m going to rip you open, Mickey.”
“What?” Shit! Mickey scrambled, trying to jerk open the car door. But it wouldn’t budge. Stupid lock. If he tried hard enough, he’d be able to force it?—
Claws came at him. He saw the attack coming from the corner of his eye and he twisted, trying to fight.
Too late.
The claws slashed right across his throat and the scream building in him never broke from his lips. Blood splashed onto the front windshield.
The claws came at him again.
I’m going to rip you open, Mickey.
* * *
When he was done, he shoved the body—what was left of it—out of the car. Blood was everywhere. The scent surrounded him. Soaked his clothes.
Perfect.
He brought his fingers to his lips and licked away the sticky liquid. He loved that rich taste.
But the hyena had been too easy. No fight at all. Like killing a human. Really, he’d expected more. The tiger wouldn’t be such easy prey. He knew that and had prepared appropriately for Donovan.
After all, he liked to hunt. He liked to kill.
