Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(89)

She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of the barrel-chested man with dark hair slicked from his bluntly carved face. He was half hidden behind a Dumpster, peeking around the edge in a way that had been guaranteed to catch the attention of a wary cop.

Callie didn’t like it.

It screamed TRAP.

“But—”

“Please, Callie,” Duncan muttered, his voice tense.

Knowing her companion wasn’t going to back down until he was certain there was no danger to her, Callie heaved a resigned sigh.

“Fine.” She sent him a warning glare. “But if you let yourself get hurt, I’m not going to be happy.”

His answer was a gentle push toward the door and Callie heaved a resigned sigh as she reentered the building and headed the short distance to Duncan’s apartment.

Halting in front of the door, she fumbled trying to fit the key into the lock. She was consumed with the knowledge that Duncan might very well be walking into danger.

He was a good cop. A great cop. But his obsessive determination to protect her made him vulnerable.

She didn’t doubt for a second he would put himself in danger if he thought it was necessary.

Barely capable of concentrating on the simple task of unlocking the door, Callie was oblivious to the shadow that slipped through the doorway at the far end of the hall.

She had no warning that the trap she’d suspected was about to snap shut.

Not until a crippling pain exploded in the back of her head and the world went dark.

Waiting until Callie disappeared into the building, Duncan walked with a commanding purpose across the parking lot, his hand deliberately on his gun. If the lurker was a run-of-the-mill drug dealer he’d take off. They always did when confronted by an authority figure. Duncan could call it in and get back to Callie.

If it wasn’t... well, he’d dealt with scumbags before.

And the man hiding behind the Dumpster had all the earmarks of being a class A scumbag.

Halting with his back to a nearby car so no one could sneak up on him, he studied the blunt features that tugged at a distant memory.

This man had crossed his path before. Not uncommon. Duncan spent a lot of time on the streets, dealing with a lot of different people. It was rare that he didn’t see someone he’d encountered before. Either a criminal or a victim or just an eyewitness.

“What’s your name?” he demanded, not bothering to flash his badge. No need to make it official.

Yet.

“Tony,” the man muttered, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.

Nerves? Guilt? Something worse? Only one way to find out.

“You have a reason for lurking in my parking lot, Tony?”

Tony licked thick lips, glancing toward the apartment building. “I wasn’t lurking. I was—”

“Yeah?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Me?” He frowned. “Why?”

“You’re a cop, right?”

“I am.”

“I have information for you.”

Duncan remained wary. In his experience confidential informants didn’t hide in parking lots waiting for a cop to appear.

And how the hell had he known where he lived?

Duncan covertly tightened his grip on his gun. “What kind of information?”

“I heard you’re looking for a necro.”

Duncan sucked in a sharp breath. “How did you know that?”

The man once again glanced toward the apartment building. As if looking for something.

Or someone.

“Word gets around.”

No. Word didn’t get around. Not to low-level criminals.

Cold spikes of suspicion pierced his heart.

This wasn’t right.

“Okay.” He angled his body so he could keep watch on the apartment building as he began to back away, his inner alarms screeching a belated warning. “Meet me at the police station in half an hour and we’ll talk.”

“No.” With an unexpected lunge, Tony grabbed Duncan’s arm. “Wait.”

Duncan pulled his gun, pointing it between the bastard’s eyes. “Let go of me.”

Tony’s dark eyes widened with fear, but he tenaciously held on. “I have to tell you now.”

There was a distracting flare of light as the sun reflected off the glass door of the apartment building. Turning his head, Duncan watched as it was shoved open and his heart came to a brutal halt.

Callie.

Stunned, his attention turned to the man who was carrying her limp body in the opposite direction.

Was that...

“Frank,” he muttered in confusion, the world moving in slow motion as he watched his longtime friend carrying Callie toward a car parked next to his own.

It didn’t make sense.

Okay, Frank might have said some stupid things in a misguided need to protect Duncan, but he was a man of honor. He would never hurt an unarmed female just because he didn’t like high-bloods.

Never.

So what the hell was going on?

His sluggish brain struggled for a reasonable explanation.

Had Frank found Callie collapsed and was hurrying her to the hospital?

Had he realized Callie was in danger and was trying to protect her?

Had he...

His eyes narrowed as Frank walked directly in front of a car entering the parking lot, his head never turning even when the driver gave a blast of his horn.