With a huge intake of breath, she broke.
Her cries were the most pained sounds he’d ever heard, including time he’d spent in battles and true war. She shuddered against him, her small hand curled into his T-shirt, the sobs coming from so deep within her, he feared she’d pass out.
The angry thunder and lightning outside the quiet truck was no match for the storm going on inside. He held her tight, rubbing her back, murmuring soft promises ranging from avenging her pain to buying her a villa in France.
She unleashed it all, finally winding down with a soft series of sniffs.
When she’d settled and her pain no longer made it difficult for him to breathe, he kissed the top of her head. “What happened, baby?”
Between hiccups, she told him of both detectives being harmed.
“Darts?” he asked, his mind calculating the danger. Hell. The drug had been bad enough when junkies shot themselves up. The bastards had figured out how to weaponize Apollo. It could be used against witches—which surely had been the plan from the beginning. Forget the human army who could fight like witches.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice so raw it made his throat hurt. “Bernie is in a coma right now, and his liver is shutting down. I tried to save him, but I didn’t know how.”
It was a miracle she’d already been able to create fire. Only her heightened senses in that crisis had made it possible, and even so, she shouldn’t have been able to create fire in her mouth without burning herself severely.
She lifted her head, her eyes like a meadow after a rainstorm. “Will Bernie be all right?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Kell would give anything to be able to say something else, but he truly hadn’t figured out the drug yet. “The fact that Bernie is still breathing is an incredibly good sign. You gave him that chance. You did.”
Her eyes filled again. “I should’ve warned him.”
“About what? Darts?” Kell rubbed her neck in circular motions, needing to touch her. To make sure she still breathed. “We didn’t know.”
“About witches.” She shook her head. “I owed him the truth.”
“How would that have helped?” Kell asked.
She pushed away and wiped off her cheeks. “I don’t know.” Sighing, she glanced at the rain splattering off the concrete. “Masterson is already up and flirting with the nurses. The bullet went right through his shoulder, and he’ll be fine.”
Kell frowned. “So Masterson was shot by Spike with regular bullets, and Bernie was shot with darts containing Apollo.”
“Yeah.” She shoved hair back from her face. “We think Masterson interrupted a drug deal. After he was shot, the witch came in, so maybe the witch was looking for Spike for whatever reason, maybe to do business. Or maybe the witch knew Spike was snitching, and he needed to stop him. Bundt was casing the rear of the bar and heard the shots. Spike ran out the back while Bundt was trying to keep Masterson from bleeding out.” Her voice cracked on the end.
Kell tried to hug her closer and shield her from any more hurt. His tough warrior.
“Maybe the witch you fought with is the manufacturer?” Kell inhaled the scent of his woman. “I need a complete description of him.”
“Bright fire, brown hair. Dark eyes, I think. About six-five, two hundred pounds, and really strong.” She pushed away from Kell and scooted across the seat. “I need to go back in and sit with Bernie’s wife.”
Kell rubbed his chin, fighting every instinct in his body to pull her close again and keep her away from blood and death. “I’ll make some calls and see if I can get a line on that witch. When you’re ready to go home, I’ll be here.” He’d keep out of sight of the cops, just so she wouldn’t have to explain.
She shook her head. “I may be a while.”
He grasped her chin. “That doesn’t matter. I’ll wait right here until you’re ready to go.”
She frowned. “Whoever the witch was, he liked hurting Bernie, and he liked fighting with me. He’s a bastard, and I’m going to take him down.”
Kellach didn’t answer.
She slid from the car, and he watched her run through the rain, keeping her in sight until she disappeared into the blazing hospital lights.
Then, and only then, did he allow his fury to roar. Fire lit along his arms, and he welcomed the burn. Alexandra wouldn’t get a chance to take out the witch because he would find him first and rip his fucking head from his body.
He lifted his phone to his ear and snapped out orders to Adam and Daire, including the description of the witch.
Then he called every contact he had in the witch species before moving on to vampires, shifters, and demons. He hit them all. If anyone had a line on a witch matching Alexandra’s very vague description, he’d have it by morning.
Slowly, through the rain, dawn began to arrive.