Vixen (Dark Protectors #11.5) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,10

snapped, oddly affronted. “Do I look centuries old?”

Abby coughed. She’d better not be laughing. “No. You look like you’re in your mid-twenties, but I wouldn’t think my mate was more than thirty or so, and he’s four hundred years old. I just assumed. How old are you? In years?”

Tabi rolled her eyes. “I’m twenty-five. In years.” Geez. Like she didn’t know what Abby meant.

“Seriously?” Noah’s voice came clearly over the line. “You’re really only twenty-five?”

“Yes, vampire,” Tabi snapped. “Or demon. Or hybrid. That’s my real age.” For goodness’ sakes.

Noah cleared his throat. “Shit, Tabi. Don’t you have family?”

“No,” she said, trying not to hurt at saying the word. “I don’t have anybody, Noah. I was raised by a human who I loved, and humans die.” Like Evan O’Connell. He was going to die and probably soon.

A sleek luxury car swerved out of a driveway blanketed by trees, skidding in front of her.

“I have to go.” She clicked off, prepared to ram the vehicle and beat the crap out of Johnny Baker. Until she saw the light hair of the driver. Holy crap. It was Richard Goncharov. So much for giving her three more days. She almost slowed down, until she caught Evan’s headlights.

Panic seized her lungs. She had to get him out of danger. Taking a deep breath and forcing those lungs to work, she slammed her foot on the accelerator and swerved around Richard’s town car.

* * * *

Evan flipped on his siren and punched the gas as the black car did the same, both of them chasing the white BMW. He drew abreast of the black car, seeing that Richard asshole driving. He lifted his flashlight and made a motion for the man to pull over.

The guy smiled, tightened his hold on his steering wheel, and shot forward into the darkened night.

Damn it. Evan set the flashlight on the seat, his adrenaline flowing and his temper blowing. He lowered his head and sped up, a primitive power filling him as he gave chase. Protocol dictated he call for backup, but for once, he let his instincts rule. He’d figure out why later.

The tail lights of the BMW flashed as Tabi took a corner fast, whizzing around a set of trees and heading toward the more industrial part of town. Smart. There would be fewer people in that area, and she could get out of the way and let him handle this jerk.

He reached for his phone and pressed her number, having taken it off her the night he’d arrested her.

“I’m kinda busy right now, Evan,” she said, her voice gritty and determined.

So much for reassuring her. He grinned. “Listen to me, darlin’. Drive two miles and take a fast right into the Mills Pond Industrial Park.”

“I don’t need help here,” she muttered, whipping around another corner like a Formula One driver.

Nice. The woman could drive. “Go to the farthest building—the one with the red metal roof. Then swing around it, and I’ll take out this guy. Meet me at the station.” He’d plow the luxury car right into the metal fence, once Tabitha had gotten safely out of the way.

“Um, this is weird for you, I’m sure. But I can handle my own problems.” She slowed down and then zipped across a set of railroad tracks. “How about you go to the station?”

Was she joking? At a time like this? “Knock it off, Tabitha,” he ordered. “Do what I said.”

She drove right by the entrance to the Mills Pond Park, heading deeper into the darkness. “I’ve got this.”

What the hell? She had this? “I mean it, Tabi,” he snapped, driving faster toward Richard’s car. If Evan couldn’t get her cooperation, he’d have to come up with Plan B. “Turn into the next industrial complex.”

“No.” She drove right past it, with Richard right on her ass.

That was it. Evan punched the gas, swerved, and clipped the back of Richard’s car. They both spun away from each other, correcting, and getting right back on track.

“Damn it, Evan,” Tabi yelled, slowing down. “You don’t understand any of this. Get out of here. Please.” She flipped around and stopped.

Richard’s tail lights flared as he skidded to a stop, facing the lights of the white BMW.

Evan slowed down. What the heck was going on? Some sort of weird game of chicken? Not on his watch. He slammed his foot on the pedal and lurched forward just as Richard did the same, both of them headed toward the BMW. Tightening his hold on the