Bloodlust - Helen Harper Page 0,9

I commented, aware that there was an edge of hot fury to my tone, “I’m Mack Smith. I have every right to be here. If you don’t believe me then call your fucking boss and check.”

“I know who you are, Ms. Smith, and I have strict instructions not to let you come any closer.”

I stopped in mid-step, more out of shock than anything else. Seriously? I knew that Corrigan was beyond pissed off with me, but he couldn’t stop me from doing my job. Who the hell did he think he was? I’d thought many things of the Lord Alpha in the past, but never that he was petty. And did he really believe that one pathetic wolf was going to make me turn around with my invisible dragon tail tucked between my legs? It looked like I was going to end up having a little fun after all.

I pulled out my daggers again, and began to move forward. “You’re going to want to get out of my way.”

“Ma’am…”

“Don’t call me that.”

I let one dagger fly, striking him in his shin. The werewolf screamed in agony and yanked at it, scrabbling at the hilt to pull it away from where it had embedded itself in his skin. To be fair, I hadn’t put much force behind the throw, and it was really only the very tip of the weapon that he was howling about. I didn’t actually want to hurt him badly; after all, he was only following orders – and stupid orders at that – and I knew silver was excruciatingly painful for shifters, even just to touch. But I also had a point to make to His High and Mightiness. Don’t get in my fucking way.

I gently pried the dagger from the shifter’s fingers, and stepped over his writhing body. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Take it up with your boss.”

Leaving him there, I returned both weapons to the halter at my back, and walked over to the shop’s entrance, trying to keep my senses as alert as possible. There was no way Corrigan was idiotic enough to think that one measly little teen wolf could stop me, whether he was a member of the big scary Brethren or not. There had to be more shifters around here somewhere, and I was damned if I was going to let any of them even begin to get the better of me. Studying the splintered wood where Wold’s front door had clearly been kicked in, I was starting to get an idea about where they actually were. And that made me royally pissed off.

I nudged the door open with the tip of my shoe, creating enough of a gap to slip through. Muffled angry voices floated over from deep within. Bingo. Taking care to stay as quiet as possible, so that I knew just exactly what I was dealing with, I edged forward. Despite the obvious signs of carnage that Corrigan’s minions had left in their wake, it was clear the Batibat kept a considerably tidier and cleaner shop than Balud. Of course, Balud didn’t live in daily fear of having his very life-force drained from him by a crazy necromancer. That in itself would probably provide incentive enough to do a daily dust.

The voices seemed to be coming from behind a half-open door at the far end of the corridor. I inched towards it, making sure I stayed planted against the far wall to avoid casting any telling shadows which might give my presence away before I wanted to advertise it. What I really wanted to know was what on earth Corrigan was actually up to. A few words were starting to drift over and it appeared that it was the shifters who were doing all the talking.

Moving close enough to catch more, I sidled up to the door, and cocked my head to the side to listen.

“You’re going to tell us everything you know sooner or later,” barked a steely voice.

Good grief. That line was straight out of a Hollywood movie. These guys weren’t exactly subtle.

“Except I don’t know anything.”

Figuring that had to be Wold herself, I twisted around to peer through the crack in the hinges. The Batibat was cowering in a chair, and there were three other figures – shifters – all standing around her. At that point one of them, who had his back to me, reached round and smacked her on the face.

“Listen up, you ugly bitch. You’re going to tell us where your slimy boss