Makayla
Present Day
Bloodsucker Serial Killer.
I considered the nickname, then peered through the bars at the hulking beast seated by the desk. I wasn’t impressed. The media had made this guy sound like some sort of mastermind lunatic. That was why I’d chosen the kidnap approach for this case. It seemed like the best way to make the arrogant jackhole talk.
But now I wondered if I should have just knocked him out, handcuffed him in silver chains, and interrogated him the old-fashioned way.
A sigh escaped me.Better luck next time,I thought.
I fiddled with the cuffs in front of me. They were made of silver, which burned my wrists, but they wouldn’t be difficult to unlatch in a pinch. The bars would be more of a problem. I didn’t have a key, so a wire would have to do.
Thank God for bras.
Hulk—my nickname for the Bloodsucker Serial Killer because it was far more appropriate—shifted, his muscular body way too big for his tiny stool. He really should consider some upgrades around this shithole. This underground dungeon of his was more like a glorified basement.
Of course, this was just the holding cage.
Maybe things would be more interesting once he moved me to my upgraded digs. Then we’d get to the heart of this trafficking matter.
Or I’d kill him.
The decision remained to be seen.
What kind of shifter are you?I wondered. He had this weird smoky stench around him that didn’t match what I knew about the shifters in this realm. As far as I knew, dragons didn’t exist here. Although, that would be pretty cool if they did.
The hint of blood on the air suggested he might be part vamp as well.
So a hybrid of some kind.
Interesting. I’d spent the last three years traversing realms and had never heard of a hybrid before, much less encountered one.
My alpha, Nathan, would definitely be intrigued. Marc, too. I’d have to report this back to them once I finished up here. Not that I worked for Nathan’s black ops agency anymore. I’d gone freelance after the job that had originally brought me to this realm. Then I’d stayed because the people of this world clearly needed my help.
And if hybrids were a thing now, then I wasdefinitelyneeded here.
I rolled off my cot and started to pace the small space of my cell. Dusty cement floor. Small windows near the high ceiling. Sports bar above us—something I’d sensed more than observed from my fake unconscious state when the hybrid had taken me down the single set of stairs.
I cataloged every detail and frowned at the summary in my head. “Yeah, I gotta be honest with you, Hulk. This place is roughly a two-star rating in my book.”
He ignored me, his focus on his screens.
Small talk clearly wasn’t in this guy’s repertoire. I drummed my fingers against my thighs, considering him. This situation required a delicate touch, maybe some coaxing, or I could do what I happened to be really good at—just plain piss him off.With finesse.
Yes, I like this plan.
I heaved a dramatic exhale and lounged against the wall beside the door to my cell.
“You know, there are several deteriorations you could make to this place that would lower your rating,” I advised him. “I mean, I travela lotand stay in atonof different styles of accommodations, and, to be honest, this isn’t the worst place I’ve spent the night. Hence the two-star rating.”
Hulk merely snorted, unamused.
I kept expecting him to pull out a cigarette, to go with the whole smoky aura thing.
But those screens had him captivated instead.
I’m starting to take offense to this silent treatment, big guy,I thought, deciding to up my game. He obviously needed a more thorough lesson on polite conversation.
