AMAZON KINDLE VERSION A Siberian Werewolf In London EDITED 3 9 2012 (20 page)

As the car peeled out, Lewis grabbed the radio and started giving orders. Once out of sight of the buildings, he turned on his lights and siren and picked up speed. “The team will stand watch at the building. But I called for a unit to meet us at the house. Kincaid isn’t answering his radio. We may have an officer down,” he said.

 Grigori nodded, as underneath he seethed and bristled, holding the change back by a thread. Lewis couldn’t know his biggest secret. He felt hair starting to move under his skin. He needed to get to the townhouse, now. He reached for the children’s minds, easy to find now that they had an emotional bond. All of them slept soundly. Next he reached for Rosie. She was a blank as well.

As they turned the corner onto the final street, Grigori sighed in relief.
I am coming, lyubov moya,
he sent through the mating bond. He already saw the golden cord of light led away from the house. Melisande was gone. But what of Brencis, Valerii, and Rosie? What about the children?

When the car pulled into the drive, Grigori ran out the door and through the gate. He smelled the air and found what he was searching for. Running around the corner, he headed for the back door. Rosie lay slumped against it. Grigori knelt beside her, checking her pulse. It beat steady but slow. He pulled the dart from her chest and showed it to Lewis, who followed him around the building.

“Call an ambulance. They’ve been drugged,” he said as he got up to find the next victim.

Lewis grabbed his radio and started calling in as Grigori headed for the back of the property. Brencis lay near the back gate, still in his wolf form. Grigori pulled the dart from his neck. From the smell of the dart, Grigori thought the drug was potent to humans. But lycans would recover much faster. He buried his hands in Brencis’ ruff and leaned his head against his side. He sighed with relief. Funenko hadn’t killed them.
Brencis? Fight the drug! I need you, Funenko took Melisande. BRENCIS!

He felt a stirring in his mind.
Brencis?

Grigori?

Grigori smoothed his hands over his cousin’s fur.
Wake up! The police are here, and I need to find Meli. I am going to locate Valerii.

He stood up and sniffed the air. Then he followed his senses to find Valerii lying near the front of the property. He knelt down a second time and checked Valerii’s pulse. It beat strong and steady. He should be waking up soon as well. Grigori grabbed him by the ruff and shook him.

“Wake up, Valerii. Fight the drug, dammit.”

Valerii, the police are here. You and Brencis must handle things. The children are asleep upstairs. They must be protected. I’ve got to hunt for Melisande.

Grigori?

Knowing his packmates would recover lifted a weight from his shoulders. But his mate was still missing and in danger. He let the growl he had been holding onto out with a snarl. Then, getting to his feet, he began to run. The mating bond would lead him to his mate. He thought about shifting, but didn’t have a way to transport clothes. Besides, Meli would need to see his face when she woke up.

As he ran, he analyzed the data his senses detected. He smelled Kincaid, but he had been guarding the property. There were two men, besides Funenko, who took his mate. He smelled their excitement about the deed. But under Funenko’s scent was the smell of arousal. Stealing Melisande turned Funenko on. Grigori growled low in his throat. Funenko would die tonight. Grigori felt no mercy toward his enemies.

He turned from the expensive neighborhood where his rented townhouse was located to a more modest one. Here the homes were smaller. The noise of television sets and children laughing and crying could be heard. Apartment buildings sprang up, then businesses. Grigori ran on, following the mating cord, hunting the woman who held his heart.

He turned into a warehouse district. Graffiti and rust covered the steel sides of the buildings. The noises turned to mechanical sounds, of gears turning, metal hitting metal, and pistons pumping. The smell of smoke and ash filled the air. The mating bond turned again and led to a small metal building that looked deserted. There were no lights, but the golden cord went right through the door. Melisande was inside.

He slowed his pace and moved into cover behind a large metal crate. No need to give away his position in his haste, he thought. Now, moving closer from shadow to shadow, Grigori found where the car had stopped to unload. He smelled Melisande, as well as Funenko and one man, the one who liked to eat too much garlic. They had carried Melisande inside. Her scent hung in the air, but did not touch the ground. He knew she was still unconscious. What would Funenko do to her in her vulnerable state? This was a trap set just for him, but even knowing that, he would go into the building after his mate.

Brencis?

Wait for us. Rosie is on the way to the hospital. The medics insisted when they heard she was recovering from a head injury. Kincaid was found dead in his patrol car. Where are you?

In the warehouse district, down by the waterfront. You must hurry, I’m going in.

Grigori! Lewis is suspicious as to why Valerii and I aren’t still drugged. Using my telepathy, I turned his thoughts away. We were able to shift and get dressed before the ambulance showed up. He is shouting about you disappearing. You need to wait for us. Melisande will be okay until she wakes up.

You don’t know that. Funenko is a sick bastard. I can smell his arousal.

You won’t be any good to her if you catch one of those darts. They’ll put you down for at least twenty to thirty minutes. Come on, Grika, we’re on the way. Lewis is going to be livid when he realizes we’ve slipped away as well. But he knows the kids are asleep upstairs, so he won’t leave them unguarded.

Stop worrying about Lewis and get over here.

The sound of shuffling feet made Grigori stiffen. He moved closer to the door and behind an industrial-sized garbage container. A man wearing a black overcoat came around the building and walked to the door. This must be the man who liked his vodka; his scent included the burning sensation of alcohol, but it also carried the scent of Kincaid and gunpowder. This must be the man who killed Kincaid. As the man moved to open the door, Grigori leaped on him, knocking him out and dragging him behind the dumpster. A quick search found the handgun in the shoulder holster, as well as a flask of vodka, which Grigori opened and poured over the man’s clothes. Taking the gun, he slipped inside the now open door.

I’m inside.

Idi K Chyortu, Grigori. We are still too far away to help you.

Better hurry then.

Grigori heard the mental curses Brencis threw at him. But he continued forward, making his way through the stacks of crates in the warehouse. There was no light, but lycanthropes can see perfectly in the dark, and Grigori moved unerringly forward, following the golden mating bond toward his mate.

The cord led to a stairwell that went down to a lower level. Grigori heard the lap of water and smelled its aquatic scent. It surprised him there was a basement this close to the river. Nevertheless, if Melisande went downstairs, then he would also. He crept forward and slowly made his way down the stairs. A weak light bulb gave little illumination to the long hallway at the bottom. Grigori started to hear men’s voices. From the sounds, Grigori knew Funenko and one other man were talking down the hall to the left. The mating cord led down the hall to the right.

Grigori glanced down the hall to the right and saw a sleeping man sitting in a chair outside a door. The mating cord led into the room the man guarded. Grigori slipped into the man’s mind and pushed.
You will not wake up until you hear me tell you it is safe to open your eyes.
Feeling the man’s sleep deepen, Grigori moved slowly up the hallway.

“Funenko, I want to have the woman. Before you kill her, let me have her, just once.”

“Shut up, Golubev. Stop whining. If she lives when I’m finished with her, you can have a turn.”

Grigori clearly heard Funenko and Golubev. He felt his rage rush forward. Claws ripped through his fingertips. The urge to tear and shred was upon him. His vision started to blur. Grigori used all his strength of character to push his wolf down. Melisande would need him to carry her out of here. He couldn’t do that in his wolf form.

Grigori finally reached the guard and did a quick search of the man’s pockets. He found a ring of keys that hopefully included the lock to the door. He looked at the three choices and at the lock, then down to where Funenko and the other man talked. He needed to do this as silently as possible.

Grigori carefully inserted the first key, but the tumblers wouldn’t budge. He tried the next key. All the time he was worrying that Funenko would hear a noise and come to investigate. Grigori turned the key, and this time the lock moved. Thanking his luck, Grigori slipped into the room, happy to note the door didn’t squeak. He closed it behind him, leaving only a small crack.

This room was completely dark. Grigori hated to think of Melisande opening her eyes to pitch darkness. He rushed over to the cot on the far wall. Melisande’s hair hung off the edge of the thin mattress. Her body looked like a lifeless doll. He felt for her pulse. It was there, but it felt slow and weak. Her chest barely moved with each breath she took. One of her wrists was handcuffed to the metal framework of the cot.

Grigori looked at the key ring, but none of the keys were for a pair of handcuffs. He could try to break them open, but feared injuring Melisande in the process. He must confront Funenko to get the key. Between the darts and guns, he was in trouble. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he dialed 999 and placed the phone next to Melisande’s free hand. Whatever happened, Melisande would be saved. He leaned down and kissed her still lips.

“Together forever,
lyubov moya.
In this world or the next.”

Grigori then sent his thoughts through space and time.

Brencis, I’ve called the police. Don’t let them catch you in wolf form.

Are you all right? Is it over?
came Brencis’ mental questions.

No, it’s just getting interesting.

Grigori! Let us help you. We are almost there.

“How touching . . . I see you decided to accept my invitation for this evening. I am surprised you found me so quickly. What did you do to poor Bogdanov?” came Funenko’s voice from the door.

Grigori’s blood chilled. He turned to see Funenko holding a gun on him. His man stood behind him in the doorway. Funenko was an insane killer. How was he going to save Melisande before Funenko killed them? Time was of the essence. He would need to stall. One way or another, help would be arriving soon. Grigori glanced down and gladly noted Melisande’s arm hid the cell phone. He positioned himself to protect her as much as he could from taking a bullet.

“He’s asleep. He’ll wake up when the time is right,” Grigori answered, standing in front of Melisande.

“That time being after your escape, I assume.” Funenko said.

Grigori shrugged his shoulders. He smelled Funenko’s excitement with the underlying tone of arousal. This was fun for Funenko. He was enjoying himself.

“Golubev, find Zaytsev and get the car. We must once again find a new place to have our fun. You have been a constant thorn in my side, Solovyov. The bosses in Moscow are crying for your death. Though they like the thought of my revenge, they are getting impatient. And I must say, so am I. Here, undo the handcuff on your woman. We will take her with us as soon as the car gets here.”

Grigori watched the light gleam off the small key Funenko threw to him. With the only light in the room coming from the door, the room was still quite dark. There was a chance Grigori could grab the gun he put in his pocket without Funenko noticing. Now, since Golubev was going for the car, Grigori had only one person to worry about. And Funenko had given him the only thing keeping him stuck here, Melisande’s freedom.

Grigori caught the key and leaned over to unlock the cuff. Once finished, he positioned himself so Funenko wouldn’t see him slip his hand into his pocket. A low growl came from the hallway. Funenko glanced back, and Grigori took his chance. He pulled out the gun and shot. Crimson blood started flowing out of the hole in Funenko’s chest. Funenko looked down in bewilderment, then slowly fell to the ground.

Grigori wiped his prints off the gun and left it lying next to Funenko’s body. A young wolf slipped in the door. Grigori looked up in surprise. He had thought the growl was from Brencis.

“Well done, Seth. Your timing was perfect. But if you listen, you can hear the sirens coming closer. You need to get out of here and hide yourself.”