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Okay.
The Therian headed for the handrail, and Dex knew he was going to jump it. On the other side, a set of stairs went down to street level. He couldn’t let the guy make it to the street. Giving it everything he had, he sped up and launched himself at the guy. Both of them hit the boards hard, the large Therian landing on Dex and knocking the wind out of him. Fuck. Why did these guys have to be so damn heavy? The guy rolled off Dex, hissing as he pulled back a fist, but Dex had already swiped his Glock from its holster. He aimed it at the Therian perp whose fist came to an abrupt halt.
“That’s right. Now back the fuck up. Slowly,” Dex ordered. He breathed in deep through his nose, letting it out slowly through his mouth as he tried to steady his breath. He kept his gaze on the Therian as he got to his feet. The mark on his neck stated he was a Leopard Therian. Comfortable with heights, water, agile, and astoundingly strong. Duly noted.
“What were you doing outside Agent Brodie’s apartment?” Dex asked, taking a step back, the hold on his gun unwavering.
“I was just out for an evening stroll. Reading the paper. That’s not a crime now is it?”
“No, it’s not. But trying to blow someone up is.” Dex cocked his gun. “Your boss tried to kill my teammate. Twice. Instead, he sent my partner to the hospital.”
The bastard grinned at him, fangs bare. “Maybe your partner should have minded his own business. What’s that Human saying? Curiosity killed the cat? Well, nearly.”
Dex aimed low and fired.
With a howl, followed by a litany of curses, the Therian dropped to the boards clutching his leg. He gaped up at Dex. “You shot me? What the fuck!”
“It’s only a flesh wound. It won’t even need surgery.” Dex moved his gun to the other leg. “This one might. Now. I asked you a question. What were you doing outside Agent Brodie’s apartment?”
A female’s shriek pierced the air, and Dex cursed under his breath. He held his gun in both hands as he backed up and circled the Therian on the floor so he could keep an eye on him and see what the hell was going on. In the shadows of the underpass, a cougar in his Therian form was clawing at a Human jogger. The asshole must have been hiding in the thick greenery. The jogger balanced precariously on the small table screaming for help, her pant leg shredded and leg bloodied.
“What’ll it be, Agent Daley? Bring me in or preserve civilian life. That’s your number one directive isn’t it? Preserve civilian life?”
Another scream, and Dex let out a frustrated growl. Fuck. Not only did he not have any zip ties with him—fucking genius, Dex—but he didn’t have time to come up with an alternative other than shooting the guy. How the hell was he going to explain himself? He took off toward the cougar Therian in time to watch in horror as it swiped at the woman’s leg, sank in its claws, and jerked her off the table. She shrieked, bringing the table and chairs clamoring down with her. The cougar Therian hissed and roared as the woman flailed, unable to get away due to the slippery pool of blood beneath her.
“THIRDS! Stop!” Dex shouted as he fired a round, hitting the cougar Therian in the shoulder. It let out an ear-piercing cry before it released the jogger and leapt over the High Line banister. Dex’s priority was to neutralize the threat and prevent any loss of life. He ran to the banister and leaned over to find the cougar Therian long gone. Knowing he’d never catch up to it, he rushed back to the jogger, securing his Glock back in his holster as he kneeled beside her.
“Hey, it’s okay. Look at me.” Dex called out for help over his shoulder, grateful when a couple nearby rushed to their aid. He instructed for them to call emergency services and quickly removed his jacket while reassuring the injured woman. His gaze darted over to where he’d left the first asshole he’d shot, but as Dex expected, the guy was gone. Remembering he was wearing an undershirt, he pulled off his long sleeve T-shirt, wadded it up, and pressed it to the woman’s leg. He held it down tightly, talking to her and distracting her, even managing to make her smile while they waited for the paramedics to arrive. A few minutes later, and the medics were carrying the woman away. He thanked the couple who’d helped, and thanked the EMTs for the sterilizing hand wipes. What a damned mess. A large figure headed for him and Dex cursed under his breath.
“Dex? What are you doing here?” Seb frowned as he approached.
“I came to pick up some stuff for Sloane.” Dex pointed at Sloane’s apartment a few feet away. “Sarge suggested he stay at mine while he recovers.”
“Right.” Seb seemed to relax some, but he still had his “on the job” face. “So what happened?”
The wheels in Dex’s head spun at Mach speed. If he told Seb he’d come up here suspecting someone was staking out Sloane’s apartment or anything having to do with the Coalition, Seb would think Dex was going behind his back. Which he technically sort of was. Then Seb would start keeping tabs on him, and Dex didn’t need the grief. He went through the recent events in his head. Had there been any witnesses during the first shooting? He hadn’t seen any. Not until the jogger came along and everything went to hell. It was a long shot.
“I’d just put Sloane’s suitcase in my trunk when I realized I’d forgotten to pick up his mail.” Which he now realized he had. Stick to the truth as much as possible. “I was on my way up when I heard a woman screaming. When I ran out here, a cougar Therian was attacking her. I managed to get a shot off. Hit him in the shoulder. He leaped over the handrail and made it to the street. Lost him after that.”
Seb nodded, his expression giving nothing away of his thoughts. “You mind giving your statement?”
“No, of course not.” Dex waited as Seb removed his tablet. He repeated everything he’d told Seb, answered questions, keeping his statement as concise as possible. It only took a few minutes, with Seb giving him a smile at the end and telling him it was a good thing he was in the area. As a THIRDS agent, Seb would clearly question every word out of Dex’s mouth. The guy was probably wondering if the attack had truly been random or just a coincidence. Whatever Seb’s thoughts on the matter, he wasn’t sharing them with Dex, and it was probably better that way. They exchanged some pleasantries before Seb told Dex to have a good night and walked off.
Dex headed back toward Sloane’s apartment, picked up his mail, and made for his car, his mind going over the encounter. The bastard had called him by his name. There was no doubt in his mind he was one of Hogan’s crew. So was the cougar Therian. He’d attacked the jogger so his friend could escape. These assholes had to be stopped. Once he was sitting behind the wheel, he pulled out his smartphone. There was no way in hell he was letting this go. He flipped through his screen until he found the contact he needed.
A tap and two rings later, he heard a familiar voice answer. “Yes?”
Dex had made his decision.
“We need to meet.”
Chapter 4
RECOVERY WAS going to be a bitch.
Sloane looked forward to spending time with Dex, but he had some niggling doubts. He’d never had anyone take care of him. Not since he and Ash were kids back at the research facility. What if they drove each other crazy—more than they already did? Sloane was cranky at the best of times without throwing his current condition into the mix. Not being able to do things for himself would frustrate him after a while. He was certain of it. Part of him worried if they spent too much time together it would expose cracks in their relationship they might not otherwise have noticed.
Why the hell was he even worrying about this? It wasn’t like they were moving in together. Jesus, he’d almost died, and he was worrying about spending a few weeks at his partner’s house? Besides, he spent more time at Dex’s than he did at his own apartment anyway. It was thoughtful of Dex to ask. His house was bigger and more maneuverable than Sloane’s apartment. Dex also had a sofa bed in the living room. It would save Sloane from having to sleep on his own couch, which didn’t have that option. He’d already read through the home-recovery pack the doctor had given him, and it strictly advised against any active work that might impede his healing. At least for the first couple of weeks. He was limited to how many stairs he could climb, how long he could walk, what housework he could do. Definitely no driving. He let out a heavy sigh. Maybe this would be good for them.
