Special Agent Onyx Everett pointed her Glock upward and leaned to peer around the corner of an abandoned warehouse.
Her CI had claimed there were only fifteen members in New Detroit’s chapter of the Blood Moon Motorcycle Club. Unfortunately for Onyx and the four other SDEA agents with her, all of New Detroit’s members and then some were present at this little gathering. Her heart rate picked up as anger heated her blood. It was high time she gave her confidential informant an introduction to the underside of her boot–if his fellow club members didn’t get to him first.
At least thirty BMMC members converged in a circle within the forgotten industrial park in Old Town. Males and females, all of them imposing, kicked and shouted at something on the ground in the center of the circle. Forcing a cringe from her face, she steadied herself as the bloodied body twisting away from their attacks came into view.
Slade. He’s still alive.
Her heart both jumped and broke for her long-time partner at the SDEA, but she wouldn’t allow her fellow agents to witness any emotions.
Adopting an icy façade was crucial for agents within the newly formed Supernatural Drug Enforcement Agency. Outlaw weres and other rogue supes never took too kindly to being policed by humans, let alone others like them. And if you’re a female in this line of work? Well, honey, you better just check your feelings at the door. Though that was advice she was having a hard time following at the moment.
She knew the sting the SDEA had planned was a bad idea. Of course, ever-arrogant Special Agent Slade Trent volunteered to go undercover with the club. He wouldn’t miss the chance to bring down such a huge mark, never mind the danger involved.
“You worried about, me O?” he’d asked with that sly grin he always used when trying to get her flustered.
“No. And don’t call me that. Good luck,” she said and breezed out of the room.
If she’d asked him not to do it back at headquarters, he would have–for her. Slade had made it clear he wanted more from their partnership, but Onyx pushed him away. Denied what she felt for him because of what, the job?
Her gums itched painfully as she willed her canines to recede. With the full moon only two nights away, Onyx was having a hell of a time holding back the change. She was sure the only thing keeping the mangy scumbags kicking the crap out of Slade from turning was the directive of their Alpha.
BMMC founder, Dominic Porter, was neck-deep in trafficking and other illegal activities throughout the Greater New Detroit area. Arms crossed, he watched as his pack let loose on her partner.
What I wouldn’t give to pump him and his sorry pack full of silver-coated hollow points right now…
Instead, she motioned for three of her agents to scale the warehouse while she and another SDEA agent stalked over to one closer to the pack. They utilized their preternatural strength to ascend the brick sides of the buildings and slip onto the roofs.
Like animals stalking prey, they got into positions above the distracted members of the BMMC. From up here, they’d have better shots, the trajectory of the lethal bullets less likely to endanger Slade. Not to mention better cover from return fire.
SDEA Policy when it came to criminals like Dominic Porter was simple–take no prisoners.
Just how I like it.
Onyx allowed herself the hint of a smile before calling down to the melee below.
“Alright, I’m gonna need you punks to listen up!” The commotion stopped and they looked up in her direction. “I’ve got a few dozen agents with Silver Specials trained on your Alpha’s head,” she lied. “So back away from the man on the ground if you want us to spare Porter’s life!”
Murmurs of shock and denial sounded below.
“Enough!” Porter roared and his pack fell quiet. “She’s bluffing.”
Porter pushed through his pack toward Slade and dragged him up from the asphalt.
“You want him darlin’? Then come and get him!”
That was all the push she needed. She jumped from the roof, firing as she plummeted the four stories with her team following suit. BMMC members dropped as the silver bullets met their targets and the toxic metal hit their systems.
In the chaos, Slade came to and retrieved a concealed silver knife from his boot. With a pained growl, he plunged the blade into Porter’s chest. The Alpha clutched at his heart in disbelief and fell lifeless beside him.
At the sight of their vanquished leader, any pack members still standing reluctantly put their hands up and dropped to their knees.
As Onyx ran to her partner, one loyal member made a move to avenge his master, and shifted into a hulking gray werewolf. He managed one step toward Slade before Onyx vaulted over one of the surrendered weres, fired once, and planted a Silver Special between his eyes.
Before the were had even toppled over dead, Onyx knelt and scooped the badly injured Slade into her arms. Thanks to his werewolf DNA his wounds were already healing. She smiled and tenderly held her hand to his face as her team rounded up the BMMC in silver shackles.
“They’ll see,” Slade said, hurriedly wiping a tear from her cheek.
He arched his brow. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, O?”
She let out an exasperated breath and brought him close for a fierce kiss. When she pulled away, she met his eyes.
“You know I hate it when you call me that.”
Slade’s teasing grin returned. “And you know that’s exactly why I do it.”