Change of Heart - Hailey Edwards Page 0,6

and soaked me.

“I’m not paid enough for this,” I told Bishop. “There’s not enough money in the world for this.”

Just as well. Atonement couldn’t be bought. It had to be earned. And I was working hard for it.

“You go left.” He dodged a pregnant female too exhausted to keep playing tag. “I’ll go right.”

Mendelsohn spotted us and bolted to the right. I couldn’t help the evil grin spreading across my face as I pictured Bishop wrestling with the slippery warg and not me. But as Bishop’s grasping fingers glanced off Mendelsohn’s wet skin, the alpha dodged left. Right into my waiting arms.

Eww. Eww. Eww.

A precise kick took out Mendelsohn’s right knee, and he fell with a crack of bone and a howl of pain. The shock bought me time to bend down and capture his wrists. Sadly, wargs heal quickly, and before I could finish twisting his arms behind him, he mashed his face into my cleavage, such as it was, and motorboated me through my soaked top.

“You’re a pig,” I spat as he bit the side of my breast faster than I could break free of him. “Not a wolf.”

Oinking between snorted laughter, he got his legs under him and lunged at me with inhuman speed. I let him scoop me off my feet, wrap his long arms around me, and pin me against his chest.

And then I crushed his grapes with my knee using every ounce of strength Ambrose could loan me.

“My…” Mendelsohn wheezed in my ear, “…balls.”

“They’ll drop again,” I assured him. “Eventually.”

Coughing up slurs and swearing a blue streak, Mendelsohn leaned all of his considerable weight on me. We both went down and landed on our sides. I was still trapped within the cage of his arms, and he was ratcheting them tighter around me until breathing hurt worse than the alternative.

“Let her go.” Bishop hooked his hands under Mendelsohn’s arms. “Unless you’re done siring offspring.”

The threat slid right off him, unable to gain traction in his addled mind.

“Diiie.” The alpha thrashed and giggled as Bishop hauled him off me. “Biiitch.”

“Calling Bishop names is rude.” I got to my feet. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”

“Ouch,” Bishop deadpanned, yanking Mendelsohn’s arms behind his back.

I palmed the modified pen in my pocket, almost dropping my pot of emergency ink for more traditional workings, and I drew on the one sigil I used on the regular. The magical restraints clicked into place and locked the insides of his wrists together. With that done, I gave his ankles the same treatment to make escape impossible without assistance.

Together, we lifted the writhing, babbling alpha and carried him to the nearest van.

The cleaners, who were paranormal crime scene techs, not brute enforcers, kept well out of spitting range. They might be in charge of cleaning up messes, but that didn’t mean they liked getting their hands dirty.

Only after we dumped Mendelsohn on a bench and traded his magical restraints for silver ones, did the sentinels arrive wearing Atlanta Police Department uniforms. They waded into the fray and helped us herd the more docile females toward their alpha and the waiting transportation.

“We’re missing two,” Gayle called. “Any sign of them?”

“Hadley,” Bishop yelled, jamming his finger toward a flesh-toned streak. “She’s making a break for it.”

The female clutched her distended belly with both hands and squeezed her thighs together as she ran.

“Ma’am.” I jogged after her. “Can you please…?”

Once her feet hit grass, she squatted and…peed.

“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job,” I chanted while I waited on her to finish. “Ma’am?”

Unable to stand again, the female toppled sideways, thankfully not into her mess. I helped her upright then escorted her to Gayle, who got her settled. Bishop rounded up the last holdout, who had fallen asleep under a tree, and handed her off to a pair of sentinels.

“That’s everyone,” Gayle confirmed, then sought out my face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I squished when I walked now, and my heels rubbed in my wet shoes. “Take care.”

With a tired wave, Gayle sat next to Mendelsohn. He lowered his head onto her lap, finally exhausted, and she stroked his hair with a fond smile softening her expression.

“Come on, heartbreaker.” Bishop slung his arm around me. “I’ll buy you lunch.”

As much as I wanted to go home, shower, and bleach my brain…free food won.

Leaning against him, I rested my head on his shoulder. “From Tex-Mex Momma?”

“Keep eating those ghost chili tamales, and they’re going to burn through your stomach lining one day.”

“But not