Big Bad Beast

CHAPTER 16

They’d handpicked their teams. Three from each group, the people they most trusted when it came to skill set and the ability to keep their mouths shut. Plus, the order was they were to call no one. Not their mate, their best friend, their mom. No one.

Only the three supervisors who’d put the team together knew anything and they weren’t telling even their own bosses.

Using a tip from Desiree’s ASPCA contact, they’d come to this warehouse out in an industrial area on Long Island, not far from Malone’s home off the Meadowbrook State Parkway. Something that annoyed the She-tiger immensely.

It was nearly ten by the time they parked their vehicles and made their way down the street, keeping to the shadows. The felines took to the roofs; the grizzly, wolf, and coyote that Dee brought stayed close to her; and the three cops—two wolves and a fox because she was such a dog person—Desiree had rounded up circled behind the warehouse to come in the back way.

Dee, Malone, and Desiree went toward the front. Dee would admit she’d been a little worried about bringing Desiree along. She was the only full-human among them, but once she had her bulletproof vest on and more weapons than seemed authorized by the NYPD, Dee stopped worrying. The girl was a Marine down to her toes and that’s all Dee needed to know.

Using hand signals, Dee motioned for Desiree to head left, Malone right. She went straight for the front door, still using the shadows. She could hear the cheers and yelling coming from the other side, but it didn’t block out the howls, roars, and whimpers. She was a few feet from the building when the door opened.

Dee dashed off to the side as a man walked out, already reaching for his zipper so he could unleash and piss in the first bush or open car window he could find. Dee waited until he’d passed her before she grabbed him from behind, twisting his head and snapping his neck. She pulled the body back and dropped him off to the side. She went back into the shadows and inched up to one of the windows, working hard to peer through all the dirt. She saw about fifty full-humans making up the bloodthirsty viewing crowd and another fifteen armed men, keeping everyone in control. They all surrounded a makeshift pit where a fight raged between what appeared to be a feline hybrid and a canine mix.

Standing by a set of stairs that led to the roof were two more men. One was counting the entry money and another was watching him, smoking a cigar. And she knew that was the one she wanted.

Deciding she’d seen enough, Dee crouched low and indicated with hand signals what they were about to face. Both females nodded, and Dee moved in front of the door. It opened again, an armed male coming out this time. She caught him by the face, shoving him back into the building. She raised her automatic weapon and shot through him. Most of the audience bolted for the back door—where Desiree’s team waited. So Dee wished them good luck on that.

Using the man in her arms as a shield for the bullets coming at her, Dee pulled back a few feet until she could drop the corpse and dive behind a bench. She cleared out the empty clip and slammed in a fresh one. She heard more gunfire and knew Malone and Desiree had made it into the room. Taking a breath, she came up, firing the entire way.

The money man and cigar guy grabbed the cash and ran up the stairs.

“Malone!” Dee yelled, catching a fist that was swinging at her face and twisting until the arm attached to it broke in several places, the full-human going down screaming. “Stairs! Go!”

Malone moved and Dee slammed her booted foot into the face of the male at her feet just to stop all that damn screaming. The fact that she’d probably killed him in the process didn’t worry her much. Not after seeing all the hybrid bodies piled in a corner.

“Dee!” Desiree called out. “Back up Malone! Go!”

Dee ran for the stairs, ducking as shots flashed past her. She hit the bottom step and charged up. When she got to the second floor, there were more men coming toward her. She fired and kept running, jumping over their bodies and hitting the next set of stairs. It was quieter on this floor, but she scented the presence of full-humans as she headed to the next flight of stairs. She had her foot on the bottom step when a hand caught her from behind. She turned and slashed down and across with her knife, cutting through skull, an eye, nose, lips, straight through a jaw. Then she was away and up the stairs. She saw a door that led out to the roof and Dee yanked it open and went through.

The felines were holding their own against another group of men, one of them going fist to fist with Malone. Honestly ... Malone and the brawling.

Dee stepped out onto the roof, raising her weapon to start shooting anyone who didn’t naturally have fangs when she realized someone was behind her. She spun and a brawny hand caught her weapon, lifting it up. The other hand punched her in the face a few times, forcing her up against the wall. Her automatic weapon was snatched from her hands and her face was hit again. She blinked, shaking her head, ignoring her broken nose and possibly readjusted cheekbones.

The full-human male, clearly a steroid user, tossed aside her weapon and came back to batter her face a little more. Dee blocked his fists with her arms and kicked at his leg. But she missed his knee, hitting his overdeveloped thigh. It hurt him, but only enough to piss him off. He backhanded her across the face, sending her flipping across the roof. When she managed to get to her hands and feet, he was there, kicking her in the gut. Dee rolled with it, but realized too late she was near the edge of the roof. She landed on the ledge, half of her dangling into nothing.

The man reached for her, grabbing hold of her vest and lifting her up. Dee unleashed her claws and ripped them into the man’s head. He screamed and she dug in deeper, then outward, trying to tear his face off.

He fought her, swinging at her, and finally flinging her away and over the side, but Dee still clung to him. He screamed, trying to pull her claws from his face while she dangled several floors off the ground.

Dee held on but the blood was making it easier for him to pull her away from his irreparably damaged flesh, his hands gripping her wrists. He was almost free, her claws nearly out, when Malone landed on the man’s back, her own military issue knife ramming into the base of his neck, again and again.

Whatever steroid this asshole was taking, he wasn’t going down easy. Even spouting blood from a major artery, he still fought two She-predators like a demon, holding on to one of Dee’s wrists with one hand and reaching back for Malone with the other. He flipped Malone over and out. But after releasing her own blade, Malone grabbed a healthy amount of the bastard’s hair and held on.

Dee now had at least one arm free and she grabbed hold of her bowie, sticking it into the man’s neck and yanking it from ear to ear. His eyes glazed over and he lurched forward.

Still holding her knife, Dee caught hold of the ledge while Malone scrambled back over the man’s body and onto the roof. The man spilled forward and went sailing—but he still had a death grip on Dee’s other wrist. She screamed when the weight of the big bastard nearly tore her arm out of its socket.

Malone snatched the knife from Dee and reached over, sawing at the man’s hand until she’d cut through flesh, muscle, sinew, and bone. His body dropped and Malone reached for her, but as she lowered her body to get a good grip on Dee’s waist, Dee saw another man behind the feline, his gun raised. One of Malone’s team was near, but she’d never reach the man before he got a shot off. With her right arm unusable at the moment since it wasn’t in its socket, and the other the only thing holding her onto the ledge, Dee did the one thing she could think of. She grabbed Malone around the back of her neck with her fangs and yanked her off the ledge like a momma-wolf would her cub.

Roaring, Malone dangled from Dee’s mouth, unaware of the gunshots that had nearly blown the back of her head off.

Malone slapped one of those big tiger claws against Dee’s throat and was seconds from ripping in and down when big bear arms reached over and caught hold of them both. With a good pull, he dragged both She-predators back over the ledge and then got between them when the fists began to fly.

“Aren’t you both too old for this?” he asked as only a twenty-something male could stupidly ask two fighting females sliding down the dark edge of thirty-five.

“Ow!” he yelped. “What are you hitting me for?”

Dez MacDermot put her gun away and caught hold of the man Dee-Ann had told her was probably the one in charge.

She yanked him up and into a chair and handcuffed him to it.

“I want a lawyer,” he said and Dez could only laugh at him.

“Oh, baby. Don’t you realize you’re past lawyers?” She let out a sigh. “I’ve had to adjust a lot of my beliefs in order to do this job, but it’s the price I pay to take care of those I love. Now it’s the price you’ll pay.”

“You trying to scare me, cop? You trying to convince me you’re gonna actually do something to me?”

“Me? Probably not. I don’t have the stomach for that. But my partners do.”

Dez walked to the door and opened it, letting in the woman Dee had asked for help. A woman Dez loathed—and to be honest, feared. But Dez was beginning to realize more and more that they were all in this together. Yes, even with the hyena whose Clan had once tried to kill her.

“I’d like to introduce you to Gina Brutale.” Dez motioned to the giggling females behind her. “These are her cousins. At least . . . some of them. Now, you can tell me what I want to know or I can let Gina have some fun.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” He looked Gina over. She was her usual big-haired, gum-popping self in too-tight designer clothes, so he didn’t seem too impressed. But Dez had learned the day Mace Llewellyn walked back into her life never to let someone’s looks fool her.

“It should,” Dez told him honestly. “And if it doesn’t, it will.” She stepped back and let Gina walk up to him. She kneeled in front of him, between his spread legs.

“Hi. I’m Gina. I’m here to hurt you until you tell the cop what she wants to know. I’m not here because I owe anybody anything or because I am doing this for high moral reasons. To be honest, I could give a shit what happens to hybrids. But I will do this . . . for fun.” She laid her hands on his thighs and leaned in, sniffing him like a good meal. “I like to have fun. My Clan calls me the fun-time girl.”

She moved in closer, brushing her head against his chin. “Let me show you how much fun I can be.”

When it started, Dez focused on the floor. Too bad she couldn’t block out the screaming.

“Are you sure?” Cella asked the leopard she’d handpicked for this gig tonight. “I mean really really sure.”

“I’m sure. Barb is sure. We all saw it.”

“Great.” Letting out a sigh, Cella walked over to Smith. She was pressed up against one of the trucks, the young grizzly trying to find the right way to put her arm back in its socket.

Unable to watch a second more of the bear fumbling along, Cella pushed him aside and took Smith’s arm.

“The team told me,” she said, feeling around Smith’s shoulder, “you saved my ass back there.”

Wincing from the pain, Smith said, “You saved mine.”

“Yeah, but I’m better than you.”

The She-wolf grinned. “Is that what your lord god Satan tells you during your feline rituals?”

Cella sneered, but forced herself to say, “Anyway . . . thank you.”

“Same here.”

“Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll—goddamnitmotherfuckerbastardgoddamnit!”

Cella grinned. “Now . . . that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Bitch.”

“Whore.”

The door to the warehouse opened and MacDermot walked out.

“Well?” Smith asked.

MacDermot held up a slip of paper. “Names. Two. I have addresses and—”

“Let’s hit ’em tonight,” Cella suggested, taking the paper from the full-human. “It’s not even eleven yet.”

“Or we could get back to it tomorrow,” MacDermot tried.

“Or we can get it done tonight.” Cella motioned to Smith. “She’s up for it.”

“She’s a machine,” MacDermot countered. “Besides, I’m sure these people will be there tomorrow.”

“Tonight,” Cella pushed, not wanting to take the chance. “We do this tonight. Just the three of us, and we’ll be done in no time.”

“All right. But first we’re getting coffee from that diner we passed.” MacDermot went off to release her team and Cella faced Smith. She was still rubbing her shoulder. “You are up for this, right?”

“I’m a machine.”

“I’m sure MacDermot didn’t mean that literally.”

“Thanks.” Smith held her hand out and Cella put the paper with the names on it in her palm.

“Anyone you know?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Makes it a little easier when they’re not friends.” Cella motioned to the warehouse. “Do you want me to call in a cleanup team for this?”

“Nah. Brutale’s Clan will take care of it.”

Cella shook her head and walked around the truck to the driver’s door. “Hyenas. They’ll just eat anything won’t they?”

“That’s what’s great about them.”