“Take anybody nonhuman and all evidence of Apollo and go. Now.”
Daire nodded and quickly set people to work.
Within minutes, only Kell and Alexandra remained along with Masterson’s body, three dead human soldiers, and an unconscious Parker Monzelle. The police burst in, and Kell assisted her to her feet.
“I guess you’re undercover for an international police force?” she whispered.
He nodded, hands up. “Aye. As are Garrett and Logan, considering the king wants them to remain here and on the job.”
Hopefully, the Seattle PD would let him get his cover story out before trying to kill him once recognizing Masterson’s body near the door.
His woman, his mate, his warrior walked toward her people, already issuing orders.
God, he loved her.
Lex settled her mom and sister in the guest room in the penthouse then kicked off her boots in the spacious bedroom, her body aching, her mind fuzzing. Thank goodness her mother had escaped before anybody created fire to throw. “They’re still in shock. God, I’m tired.”
“Aye.” Kell moved in behind her, all warm and delicious male. “I haven’t been grilled by the garda like that for some time.”
She turned and smiled. “So long as we stick to the story, which is mostly true, we’re fine.” They’d left out the parts about witches, vampires, and demons. “The brass wasn’t happy your fellow soldiers didn’t stick around to give reports.”
Kell rubbed a bruise near his eye. “They had bodies to dispose of.”
Lex grinned. “I like your story of keeping their covers secret better.”
“Me too.” He frowned and settled his hands at the small of her back, tugging her into safety. “I’m sorry about Masterson.”
She frowned, hurt aching down her. “Bundt might not recover. He’s devastated.” As she would have been if Bernie had turned out to be a low-life drug dealer. “It was hard to explain how somebody hit Masterson hard enough to punch through his throat.” She’d claimed she’d been shot by that time and believed the soldier responsible, who’d already left, had some sort of weapon.
Kell dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Demons fight for the kill, always. Logan was just doing his job.”
“I’m not mad at Logan.” She leaned back, knowing Kell would keep her upright.
“Good.” His eyes glowed that odd green around his iris. “Your chief agreed to keep my cover for me, so hopefully I can continue at Fire. We need to know who the guy above Yuri is and why he wants Daire so badly.”
Warmth glided through her. “SWAT raided the port and closed down Yuri’s connection.”
“That’s good, but that’s only the beginning,” Kell mused.
True. “I guess you’re staying in town, huh?”
His upper lip curved. “I’m staying wherever you are.”
She caught her breath but didn’t dare to hope. “I’m damaged.”
“We’re all damaged.” He brushed a piece of hair from her face, tension of a different sort suggested in his touch.
She shook her head. “My own father shot me.” Her voice cracked on the end, and she cleared it. At least she’d put the bastard behind bars again. He wouldn’t get out this time. “I don’t trust well.”
“You’ll learn.” Kell leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “I’ll keep you safe, Alexandra.” Slowly, he drew her shirt off.
“I trust you.” Her words went deeper than love. “Completely.”
He stiffened and then gathered her closer. “I love you, little warrior.”
She laughed. “I’m keeping my job as a cop, you badass enforcer.”
He grinned. “I’m aware, and so long as you keep to the deal of you fighting humans and me fighting immortals, we’re good.”
“I don’t remember actually agreeing to that deal,” she murmured, sliding up on her tiptoes to nip his whiskered chin.
“Well then.” His voice deepened. “Let’s negotiate, shall we?” Bunching his shoulders, he lifted her and then tossed her onto the bed.
She rolled and came up laughing. No matter what happened, she could trust that they’d be together. When he’d been hurt, she’d had a vision of her life without him, and it was cold and empty. He brought warmth to her, and she wanted to keep him. “I love you, Dunne.”
He grinned and stalked toward her, all male animal. “I love you more, Alexandra.” Then he was on her. “Let’s negotiate now.”
Don’t miss the start of a pulse-pounding new post-apocalyptic series by Rebecca Zanetti, The Scorpius Syndrome, available in print and e-book next February!
Despair hungered in the darkness, not lingering, not languishing . . . but waiting to bite. No longer the little brother of rage, despair had taken over the night, ever present, an actor instead of an afterthought.