Magic Slays - By Ilona Andrews Page 0,9

in enemy territory, expecting a bullet between the shoulder blades at any moment and ready to fire back in a split second.

Behind her two cops in PAD uniforms waited at the door, giving me their best versions of a cop scowl. Strangely, I felt no urge to quiver in terror.

Andrea stepped closer and kept her voice low. "I leave you alone for eight weeks and you get into a pissing match with the PAD."

"That's just how I roll," I told her.

Emily screamed.

"Excuse me." I went over to where the paramedics had lifted her onto the stretcher. She reached out and gripped my hand.

"It will be okay," I told her. "You're going to the hospital. They'll take care of you."

Emily didn't say anything. She just clutched my hand and didn't let go until they loaded her into the ambulance. A stretcher with Ghastek followed into the second vehicle, and then the dark-haired woman came out, wrapped in a blanket, led by two paramedics. The ambulance doors closed and the two emergency vehicles took off wailing like banshees.

When I came back into the office, it was empty, except for Andrea and a puddle of blood on the floor. "Where are the cops?" She shrugged. "They cleared out."

We looked at each other. She'd saved my bacon. That didn't change the fact that she'd disappeared for two months. And now something was wrong.

"What the hell?" Andrea glared at me. "How in the world did you end up with three navigators in your office with the PAD outside? They were ready to storm your office. Are you nuts?"

"What the hell back at you. Where have you been? Did you forget how to use the phone?"

Andrea crossed her arms. "I wrote you a letter!"

"You wrote me a note that made my hair stand on end."

The phone rang. Now what? I marched to my desk and picked it up. "Yes?"

Curran's voice filled the phone. "Are you okay?"

It was completely absurd, but hearing him instantly made me feel better. "Yeah."

"Do you need help?"

His voice was perfectly even. The Beast Lord was a hair away from charging to my aid.

"No, I'm good." For some reason my insides clumped into a painful knot. I could've been shot and I would have never seen him again. That was a new and unwelcome feeling. Great. Now I had anxiety. Maybe if I slapped myself real hard, I'd snap out of it.

I forced the words out. They sounded strained. "Who snitched?"

"We have people monitoring police radio frequencies. They gave Jim a heads-up in case our security had to storm the PAD offices and bust you out of there. I found out when I saw Jim walking down the hallway snickering to himself."

I made a mental note to punch Jim in the arm the next time I saw him. "Thought it was funny, did he?"

"I didn't think it was funny."

I bet. "People were about to die and I could save them. There was a girl ... Anyway, I'm not hurt. I'll be home for dinner."

"As you wish," he said.

My heart made a little jump. I love you, too.

The tension in his voice eased. "You sure you don't need your Prince Charming to come and save you?" The knot in my stomach evaporated. My Prince Charming, huh. "Sure, do you have one handy?"

"Oh, I think I could scrounge one up somewhere. As often as I have to rescue you ..."

"I'm going to kick you in the head when I get home. Repeatedly."

"You could try. You probably need the exercise since you sit on your butt in the office all day."

"You know what, don't talk to me."

"Whatever you want, baby."

Now he was just jerking my chain. I growled at the phone.

"Hey, before you hang up--I sent Jackson and Martina down to track Julie. We should know something tonight."

"Thanks."

I hung up. Rescue me. Bastard. I wouldn't just kick him, I would kick him so hard he'd feel it.

"Nothing changed, I see." Andrea grinned. The smile looked a bit brittle around the edges. "Still enjoying your honeymoon? It's all rainbows, and sugar hearts, and chocolate kisses?"

I crossed my arms. "Where is my dog?"

"In my truck, eating the upholstery."

We both looked at the blood. If we let Grendel in, he'd try to lick it.

I went to the back room and got rags, peroxide, and a bucket. Andrea set her rifle aside and pulled up her sleeves.

We knelt and began to mop up the stain.

"God, that's a shitload of blood." Andrea grimaced. "Do you think the girl will survive?"

"I don't

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