The Devil In Disguise (Bad Things #1)(12)

“Don’t,” Luke gritted out, “ever f*cking talk about Mina that way to me. Not if you want to keep living. I can skin you in an instant, wolf or man.”

Rayce’s green eyes had widened.

The dock trembled as Julian pulled himself up. “Hey, guys…let’s all take a breath here.”

Luke wasn’t in the mood for a breath.

Julian closed in, his steps soundless, the way they always were. “This is classic displacement,” he said, his voice hinting just a bit at the British accent he couldn’t ever seem to fully shake, despite the fact that he hadn’t been in his homeland in years. “You aren’t mad at Rayce. You’re mad because that gorgeous lady just gave you the slip—”

Luke’s left hand flew out and locked around Julian’s neck. “I’m furious at both of you *s because you let her go.”

Julian wasn’t fighting him. Neither was Rayce. If they weren’t fighting, then where was the fun in an attack? Snarling, he shoved them both back. “Get some clothes on.”

“Hey!” Now Rayce was insulted. “Not like we can wear clothes when the beasts take over. You of all people should know that. And I did stop to put on jeans.”

Luke just glared.

“Right, getting clothes,” Julian said quickly.

“And get Marcos out here.” Luke turned to stare at the reddening sky. He could still see Mina, swimming so strongly. But she wouldn’t be able to keep up that pace, not for long. Good thing that Marcos just had the Devil’s Prize in the dock house, right around the side of the island. He’d be there in moments. “I need to hunt.”

Mina wasn’t getting away. There was going to be a price for her crimes that night. He hoped she was ready to pay.

She paused in her swimming right then and glanced back at him. She bobbed in the water. The waves pounded against her, and he found himself tensing. She was too delicate to be out there. Too small. She was going to drown—

She lifted her hand. And, at first, he thought she was waving good-bye to him.

Then he realized…

She was only waving with one finger.

His lips curled. You’ve got to stop doing that, sweetheart. You’re just making me want you more.

She spun away and dove beneath the waves.

***

Garrick McAdams shoved open the door at the dive bar. The scent of ocean air mixed with stale booze as he marched inside.

“We’re closed!” A voice yelled, a grumpy drawl that came from behind the bar.

Eyes narrowing, Garrick headed in the direction of that voice, and as he approached, an older guy—balding, with big, bushy brows and a tattoo of a spider crawling up the side of his neck—poked his head from behind the bar.

“Didn’t you hear me?” the guy groused. He was thin and tall, but he hunched over, losing a few inches. “The bar’s closed. Dawn’s nearly here. This shit is shut down.”

Garrick tossed his ID down on the scarred bar top. “I’m looking for a woman.”

The bartender laughed and the spider on his neck seemed to move—a trick of the poor light, surely. “Son, ain’t we all?”

Garrick leaned toward the guy. “A specific woman. Black hair, the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen, about five foot four—”

“Yeah, yeah…” The bartender waved his hand and turned away. “Like I don’t get hundreds of broads in this place every single day—”

He grabbed the bartender’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t forget her. Not after you heard her voice.” After all, Mina James had a very, very unique voice.

The bartender stiffened. “Get your hand off me, buddy.”

“I’m not your buddy.” But he moved his hand back. His fingers tapped near his ID. “If you’d bothered to look, you’d see that I’m Special Agent Garrick Mc—”

“Big f*cking deal.” The bartender rubbed his hand over his neck. “You can be Special Agent Fuck Off for all I care. My bar is closed and you need to leave.”

The bartender’s hand fell away.

And the spider tattoo on his neck…it was about two inches away from the spot it had been in before.

Garrick smiled at the guy. “What’s your name?”

The bartender was sweating. A little moisture above his upper lip. A little on his high forehead. “My name’s Screw Off.”

Garrick lifted his brows. “Okay, Screw Off…let me tell you how this is going to work…” He rolled back his shoulders. “You’re going to tell me where Mina James is—”

“I don’t know any f*cking Mina James—”

“Or the agents I have waiting outside are going to storm in here.” His voice lowered, heavy with a threat that he completely meant. “And they’re going to take your paranormal freak-ass into custody.”

The bartender blinked.

“They’ll throw you into a cell, and they’ll keep you there until they find out exactly what kind of secrets you’re keeping. They’ll lock you in tight and you won’t—” He broke off, swearing, because a big, black spider had just scuttled across the bar top and headed for him.

The bartender shot back, running toward the rear of the place.

“Got a runner,” Garrick snarled. He was wearing a very small ear piece, one that would have picked up and transmitted his whole conversation with the fleeing man. He knew the other agents outside would take immediate action. “Seal the back exit.” He leapt over the bar top. His feet slammed into the floor and he gave chase, ducking through a small storage room and then flying to tackle the bartender before the guy could grab for the back door.