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It arced hilt over blade to land deep in Tinsley’s back, and the were-cat fell face forward onto the ground as Luke tackled the burly werewolf. He drew an arm tight around Hasik’s neck, and the beast snarled and snapped and tried to turn to see its attacker, but to no avail. Even as it twisted, Lucius tightened his grip, his entire being juiced for the kill, satisfaction running high when he shifted, twisted, and heard the sharp pop of Ural Hasik’s neck.
He jumped back, letting the body sink to the ground, careful to stay out of the beast’s line of sight until he was certain the last light of life had faded from the creature. One moment, then another, then safety. No need to move the bodies now. He’d managed a clean kill after all.
He moved swiftly to Tinsley’s body, caught the scent of remaining life, and cursed as he saw the limbs twitching and heard the beast’s labored breathing.
Careful once again to stay out of the beast’s line of sight, Lucius pulled his knife free, then grabbed a chunk of the were-cat’s hair. He pulled the head up off the floor and reached around to draw his knife hard across Tinsley’s neck. Blood gushed, and Lucius let the head fall back in its own puddle of blood.
Done.
He gathered up Nick’s key, took one last look at the bodies, and then Lucius Dragos slid out the door and disappeared back into the night.
* * *
“Holy shit,” Nick said, after Luke told him about the plot and about Caris’s involvement. They were holed up in one of the Forest Lawn tombs that Luke had purchased over a century before, realizing that the types of tombs celebrities had built for their egos served Luke’s purposes well. He’d bought several, then connected them with a series of tunnels in the same way that he had connected several tombs at the Hollywood Forever cemetery to the security shop.
“Caris,” Nick said, still mulling over the news. “I never would have believed. Tiberius will be on the warpath.”
“He will,” Luke agreed. “But Hasik and Tinsley are out of the picture, and unless they’ve already set their troops out onto the city, their plan is trashed. So you tell Tiberius I want a practical token of appreciation.”
“That I will. This is one time I think he’ll be happy to pull strings.”
Luke nodded, almost tasting the freedom.
“I have good news for you, too,” Nick said. “Tasha called.”
Luke’s head jerked up. “She called you?”
“She called you,” Nick corrected. “I had your calls forwarded to my cell while yours is stored at Division. She’s fine. She’s still in San Francisco. Says she wants to come home.”
“Thank the gods.” The relief that swept through Luke almost drove him to his knees. “And Serge?”
At that, Nick’s expression grew hard. “She doesn’t know where he is.”
“Goddammit.” He drew in a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.
“It’s worse, Luke,” Nick said. “The things she said…Would he touch her? Would Serge break your trust?”
Bile rose in Luke’s throat as he thought of his friend’s hands on Tasha’s innocent flesh. He wouldn’t, Luke knew. Not if he were in his right mind. He feared his friend was not. He clenched his fists as fury rose within him. Serge was his oldest friend, and his dearest. But if he’d touched Tasha, he would pay dearly when they next met.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to be calm. “Tell Ryback to get to the apartment as soon as he can. Tell him that he’s to bring Tasha back now. No side trips, no hesitation. I want her back yesterday, Nick. Are we clear?”
“Crystal. I’ll tell him.” Nick nodded toward the entrance to the tunnel that would lead them back to a house Luke owned in the hills, their supposed destination during the furlough. “Let’s get back to Division and get you out of that contraption before Doyle bursts in here and spoils our party.”
“You saw him, too?” Luke asked.
“Hard to miss that baby-shit-yellow car.” The tomb they were in was a marker to one of Luke’s previous lives, a man now dead on paper two generations ago, his fortune now in the hands of Lucas Drake, Luke’s current identity when walking in the mortal world.
“He knows you well,” Nick said. “And he’s not an idiot. Considering the hard-on he has for you, odds are he’s been paying attention to this network of tunnels for decades, just waiting for a chance. He’ll have men at your exit points.”
“Known exit points,” Luke corrected.
“This is Doyle, Luke. He knows the way you think.”
“A fact that I know well. Which ultimately gives me the advantage. Not him.”
“You’re that confident?”
“I am.”
