Ice_Reaux - Laura Wright Page 0,11

was the perfect location to study the large metal hangar with a bi-fold door that was built in the middle of the empty field. In front of the hangar was a cement pad that led to a grassy area that had been precisely trimmed to create a runway.

A quick glance assured them they were out of view, and rolling down the window he sniffed the air, able to sense there was only one human inside the hangar.

Perfect.

Cammy had her own window rolled down, breathing deeply of the morning air. “Karen was here.”

“Yeah. I’m going to talk with the man inside.” Ice reached into the backseat and grabbed a gray hoodie before he was sliding out of the Jeep. He waited for Cammy to join him as he pulled on the sweatshirt. “Stay here and keep watch,” he commanded. “I prefer not to be interrupted.”

She held up the handgun she’d obviously pulled out of her backpack. “No problem.”

He resisted the urge to lean down and brush his mouth over the temptation of her lips. If he started kissing her, he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to be able to stop.

Plus…she was holding a loaded gun.

Never a good combination when he wasn’t sure if she wanted to be kissed.

Turning, he jogged toward the metal building, pulling up his hood to hide his face from any security cameras. He reached the side entrance and turned the knob. Locked. Tightening his grip, he slammed his shoulder against the metal door. It popped open and Ice stepped inside, swiftly searching the open space for the human.

There was the echo of footsteps coming from the back of the hangar, where a small prop plane was parked. Rounding the wing of the aircraft, a short, thickly muscled human with a buzzed haircut headed straight for Ice. His square face was flushed with anger as he barreled forward, clearly itching for a fight.

“Hey idiot, can’t you read?” he barked. “This is private property.”

Ice folded his arms over his chest. If his prey wanted to come to him, that was fine. It saved him the trouble of having to chase him.

“I’m looking for some friends of mine who used this airfield,” he said. “I need to know when they left and where they went.”

Unaware he was walking straight into a trap, the man continued forward. “Fuck off.”

“That’s not very nice.”

Just steps away from Ice, the man reached for the gun that he had hidden beneath his leather jacket.

“Get out of here before I blow your brains—”

Ice’s arm shot out as he wrapped his fingers around the man’s thick neck. Then, with a brutal strength, he was lifting the stranger off his feet.

“Clearly your mother didn’t teach you any manners,” he murmured in smooth tones.

The man squirmed, his face turning an ugly shade of puce. “You don’t know who you’re screwing with. You hurt me and you’re a dead man.”

Ice gave a shake of his head, allowing his hood to fall back. “Do I look scared?”

The man gave a choked sound of shock as he caught sight of the glow in Ice’s eyes. As if his ability to lift a grown-ass man off the ground with one hand hadn’t revealed he was more than human.

Idiot.

“Shit,” the man spit out. “You’re one of those animals.”

“Surprise.” A humorless smile stretched Ice’s lips. “Now answer my questions.”

“I just got here an hour ago—”

The man’s words broke off with an agonized gasp as Ice tightened his fingers, cutting off his air.

“Do you think I won’t snap your neck?”

Dropping the gun, the man reached up to clutch at Ice’s wrist, futilely trying to free himself.

“No. Please,” he rasped, genuine fear flashing through his dark eyes. “I’ll tell you.”

Ice eased his grip, but he kept the man dangling off the ground. A little reminder that Ice could crush his throat if he wasn’t happy with the man’s answers.

“Talk,” he commanded.

The human licked his lips. “Ward showed up a few hours ago and demanded I get a plane ready.”

“Who’s Ward?”

“He’s some hotshot in Benson Enterprises.” The man confirmed Ice’s suspicions that this airfield belonged to their enemies. “I’ve heard rumors that he’s the adopted son of the leader.”

“You mean Christopher?”

“Yeah.”

Hmm. The Pantera had hoped that when Stanton Locke had been killed by one of his own cohorts, that the betrayal had seriously injured Christopher’s organization. Like destroying Robin to hurt Batman.

Now it appeared the bastard had more than one “adopted” son.

“Who was with him?” he demanded.

“Three or four dudes. They stayed outside. I think they were