That sneaky fucker.
“I can assure you Detective Inspector, I’m not going to rampage around your headquarters while you and your men go hunting for Cate at Jesse’s house. If you’re certain the GPS in her phone is accurate.”
Ian made a small sound of protest, and all eyes focused in on him.
Peter ended the call and discreetly slipped his phone into his pocket, expression smug.
If they moved Cate before the VLCD got there, he’d never be able to tell the truth. A voice at the back of Ian’s mind told him that he and Cate were probably as good as dead anyway, but he ignored it. He had to believe they could still get out of this somehow.
Well, Cate anyway.
Harper raised the cuffs again. “They can come off as soon as you’re safely in the cell.”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll be necessary because I have no intention of going to your fucking cells. If I’m not under arrest, then I’m free to leave, right?”
Harper hesitated, and Ian glanced between them, edging himself towards the wall. “I’d rather you came voluntarily.”
“To one of your underground death boxes?” Peter scoffed. “I don’t fucking think so. Kindly tell your men to get their guns out of my face and let me pass.”
Ian waited, wondering what the agreement said about situations like this. Surely the VLCD held all the cards here?
Harper’s earpiece came to life, the voice on the other end, declaring, “They’ve got her.”
Ian’s heart skipped a phantom beat, hardly daring to believe it was all over.
“Your men can’t have got there that quickly,” Peter murmured, eyes wide and panicky, setting Ian on edge.
“No, they’re still en route.”
“Then who—”
Peter’s phone rang, startling him. He glanced down at the screen, eyebrows drawing together in confusion as Michael’s name flashed up.
Harper levelled his gun at Peter’s head. “Answer it.”
Looking like it was the last thing he wanted to do, Peter answered the call.
Instead of Michael, it was Lys on the other end, and Ian couldn’t stop his grin. Peter stared at the screen as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Surprised to see me, Peter? Yeah, I bet you fucking are.” She grinned at him, all teeth, and Ian was too busy looking at the phone screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cate, to notice the change in Peter’s body language.
Like a cornered animal, Peter realised he was in trouble and reacted the only way he knew how.
He attacked.
It happened so quickly.
The phone was in Peter’s hand one moment, the next it went hurtling through the air straight at Harper’s head, knocking him unconscious. He fell to the floor, opening a pathway to the door, and Peter darted towards it. The rapid sound of gunfire filled the room as the guards reacted, but Peter was fast. Like a bolt of lightning, he shot towards freedom, taking the two nearest guards out with a flick of each hand, sending them barrelling into their teammates and crashing to the floor.
Then he was gone.
Forced to duck for cover when the firing started, Ian jumped up. He was seconds away from running after Peter when the scent of blood hit him—rich and intoxicating—filling the air around him until it was all Ian could focus on.
Moving on instinct, Ian started towards the nearest prone guard, eyes fixed on the steadily growing pool of blood under his head. He licked his lips, fangs already out and aching with the need to sink into warm flesh.
It felt like a haze descended, his mind no longer his own, his sole focus the unconscious VLCD officer in front of him.
Ian shot forward, fangs bared, ready to feed his craving. He could almost taste the blood on his tongue as he crouched down, so close to claiming his prize. Opening his mouth, Ian went to bite down.
