Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(19)



Continuing toward the smoldering hole the Birrn had left in the warehouse, she reached the loading dock, where the hot air was muggy but fresh. She jumped down to the parking lot and started walking.

Heavy boot steps followed right behind her. “Look, I don’t think you realize what you’re up against. Hotlanta is steaming tonight because someone has unleashed major mojo on the city. And they’re not here to play with us, little girl. They’re here to feast on entrails.”

Little girl? Mr. Macho had no idea who he was dealing with, and right now, he was lucky he wasn’t limping. “I’ll take my chances.”

“What’s your name?”

“It definitely isn’t Little Girl. Honey. Or Babe, Baby Cakes. Now run along, little boy. Us girls need to be alone.” Because she couldn’t clean up the demon crap with him standing watch over her.

Unless she used her hands.

Nah. I’d rather VIPER burns me. ’Cause that’s just g-r-o-s-s.

Evalle had barely reached the middle of the parking lot when sirens rang out, coming closer.

Ah, crap … police were headed this way and would most likely enter the same way she had.

Please don’t let there be some stray kid with a cell phone. That’s all she’d need tonight. Her face on the local news, fighting a demon. Her luck, it’d be picked up by the AP and on YouTube and she’d be more famous in twenty-four hours than Paris Hilton on a bender.

Look on the bright side. It might make Sen choke on his fury so hard that he’d stroke and die before he could cage her.

C’mon, think, Evalle, think. She needed every minute she had left until daylight to figure out who’d sent the Birrn. Why it’d had Celtic branding and what the demon’s master wanted with an Alterant.

Her …

Oh, and come up with an explanation for the slashed body in the morgue that didn’t involve her being accused of eating the woman’s heart.

Some nights it didn’t pay to leave the house …

With the blue light specials flashing outside the gate, her most immediate problem was the lack of time to deal with the flaming pile of demon churras on the floor. Could she sell the cops on the idea that she was a disgruntled employee trying to plant prairie pastries on her old boss’s desk?

Not with my luck tonight.

What were the chances she could trust Isak’s people to clean up this mess?

She turned around as Isak jumped down from the loading dock and jogged in her direction. She gestured toward the cops. “Nice present. Thank you so much for the arrest record, Mr. Shoot-to-kill. Appreciate it. Know any good bail companies?” ’Cause with his hair trigger, he should be getting a volume discount from someone.

He stopped in front of her, his weapon slung across his back. “I don’t need no stinking bail company. I’ve got something better.”

This she couldn’t wait to hear. “A rocket launcher and a tank?”

“No. Exit strategy. You coming?”

She didn’t think so. “Thanks, but I’ll find my own way out.”

“By now the cops are crawling the building like ants on a cake and you are about to become the ice cream cherry.”

He was right and she hated him for it. “All right, First Blood. Lead me to freedom.”

Police racket clamored near the front gate.

Isak paused at the wall on the side of the building, where she could now see a thin aircraft cable running vertically from the top. Sneaky little booger … how clever. A metal clasp with a heavy D ring dangled at shoulder height. From inside his shirt he pulled a short length of thicker cable that was probably hooked to a harness and clipped the karabiner on the end to the clasp.

But if he thought she was going up the side of that wall, he was crazy.

Ten or fifteen feet off the ground, no problem.

Any higher …

Big problem.

Evalle didn’t do heights. Ever.

The sound of the huge electric gate at the street opening was followed by the sounds of the cops coming closer. Flashlight beams danced ahead of them.

Stealth was not the forte of Atlanta’s finest. Lucky for her.

She looked around, quickly assessing a potential alternative route. “Tell you what, Isak. I’m—”

An arm hooked around her waist and yanked her backward against a body so hard, it was like slamming into the brick wall. Panic at being touched got shoved aside by a greater fear when her feet came off the ground and they shot up the wire at a speed that left her sick.

No, no, no!

She hissed in outrage. “Put me down!”

“Hon, at this height, you definitely don’t want me to do that.”

Stupid her, she looked down before she could stop herself. The world below was shrinking at a rapid pace. Her stomach threatened to show her a replay of the slaw dog she’d eaten for dinner. Snapping her eyes closed, she clenched her teeth and fought down her panic.

He wasn’t going to drop her. He wasn’t.

Still, the fear was there, and it was debilitating as her past slammed into her with a reality she despised. Her shoulders trembled. She forced her muscles to lock tight.

Never, ever show a weakness. Not to anyone.

Too late for that.

She ground her teeth at the conflicting voice in her head that she hated. Stay calm, Evalle, you can do it. You’ve survived a lot worse than this.

Sherrilyn Kenyon & D's Books