CHAPTER 37: A SURPRISE RENDEZVOUS

The moment I spot the first guard, I flick a knife straight into his jugular. Experience from this mission taught me their body armor leaves the neck exposed—perfect for a quick, fatal strike. Too busy clutching their throat to fight back, they’re down before they know it.

I take out three more guards in quick succession before gunfire erupts, forcing me to dive behind a couch. Spotting a desk against the wall, I pull out a smoke grenade and lob it over the couch. As choking fills the air, I push the desk down and shove it against the couch for extra shielding. Then, I grab a specialized grenade—pull the pin, toss it, and duck.

The explosion scatters a spray of sharp, medium-length nails—small enough to pack a dozen into the grenade, yet long enough to shred through flesh. Their lightweight armor is no match; the nails punch right through. For good measure, I toss two more.

When I roll out from cover, knives at the ready, the floor is littered with bodies—nails jutting from their lifeless forms. But as I move to stand, a searing pain shoots through my left thigh. A single nail has pierced me, its tip jutting from my leg. The desk behind me is covered with them. Lucky. Just one.

I push through the pain and head for Urk’s desk—empty. No sign of him.

Damn it. Where’d that rat scurry off to?

A quick scan reveals a secret door, slightly ajar, beside his desk. I ease it open, checking for stragglers before slipping into the hallway.

I slow at each corner, ensuring the path is clear. No exits yet—good. I’d hate wasting time backtracking. Up ahead, guards sprint down the corridor. Too loud to hear their allies drop, one by one, as my knives find the backs of their necks. I don’t stop until only one remains—then he’s gone too.

Finally, Urk stands alone.

“Give it up. You’ve got no one left,” I taunt, tucked into a shallow crevice. He spins, firing blindly until his gun clicks empty. I step out and hurl a knife—right into his navel. A brutal wound: nicked intestines leak enzymes that dissolve flesh from the inside. Slow, agonizing, and perfect for interrogation.

I stride over, kick his gun aside, and yank the knife free to worsen the bleed. “Where’s your wife, Urk?” I ask, feigning ignorance. Maybe he’ll slip up.

“You slaughter my men after she’s gone, yet ask about her?” He grunts, wiping blood from his mouth. “Either you’re an idiot… or she’s not your target.”

Huh. Smarter than he looks.

“Or I missed her and need to find her to finish the hit,” I lie smoothly.

He scowls. “I don’t know. We stay out of each other’s business.”

Okay, maybe not so smart.

“Funny. Intel says she’s neck-deep in your business. Like those four dozen kids you snatched for her ‘rituals.’” His face twitches. “Bet she didn’t mention they’re shifter pups. Dark witches love those.” Another flicker of shock. “Face it—she played you. Now talk, or I’ll make you talk.”

I jab a finger into his wound. He hisses but sneers, “Go to hell.”

My fist cracks his jaw. “You hit like a girl,” he spits.

“Yeah, no shit, I am a girl.” Another punch and his eyes roll to the back of his head. He is knocked out cold.

I reached for my first aid kit and snapped open the smelling salts, holding them under his nose to rouse him. As the fumes hit, he jerked awake with a sharp cry, pain flaring from his sudden movement. I made it worse by dousing his wound with strong rubbing alcohol, earning another pained shout.

“Tell me about your wife,” I pressed again. “Where does she go all day?”

“I don’t know,” he gasped, and his body language told me he wasn’t lying.

“Damn. I was hoping for more—my friends would’ve loved to pay her a visit. How about you call her? One last chat?” I tossed him his phone, watching as he unlocked it with his face.

The moment he opened the call screen, I snatched the phone back and slit his throat. Then, using his lifeless face and fingerprint, I reset the password for later access.

I checked the tracking app—several of his employees and clients were listed.

People are so careless with their phones, I remarked to Cece as she comes forward again.

Pulling my burner phone from my pocket, I snapped the battery in place and powered it on. A quick photo of Urk’s corpse went to John as proof. Then, I shut it down and removed the battery again.

Next, I called Luke, who picked up before the first ring ended. “Were you waiting by the phone just for me?” I teased.

“No,” he answered too quickly. I smirked.

“It’s done. I’m calling Alexis to handle Moulsa—she’s at an abandoned farm. I’ll send her the coordinates.”

“I’m already on my way,” Luke said. “Ten minutes out.”

I checked my watch—only forty-five minutes since the first guard went down. Not bad. Might be a new record. “There’s a dirt road left of the mansion. Park there, and I’ll meet you.” A sudden prickling sense of being watched made me lower my voice. “Be careful. I don’t think I’m alone anymore. Gotta go.” I hung up.

Hoisting Urk’s body over my shoulder, I moved silently to the tunnel’s end, avoiding any backtracking in case of traps. The exit had a submarine-style wheel lock—no way to open it quietly. Not that Urk would’ve bothered, so why should I?

I pulled out my thermal monitor. Five heat signatures appeared on-screen, guns trained at the hatch.

Oh, boys. Don’t you think I am ready for an ambush? I thought to know one in particular.

Then, they suddenly turned—just as a sixth figure, no, a wolf, lunged at them.

Hey there, handsome, I thought at Luke, then burst from the hatch, shifted, and tore into the remaining men before they could react. Their shock at seeing a wolf froze them in place.

I’m glad you are okay, but it was awfully stupid of you to risk yourself like that. You’re lucky they hesitated you could have been shot, I scolded Luke after. Never risk yourself like that again.

“I’m sorry, mi alma,” he said before darting off to dress.

Once shifted back, I dragged Urk out of the tunnel, planted a tracker on him, and activated it. John’s client would get the signal—proof of death delivered.

I pull out my phone and dial Alexis. “Hey, Alexis. Urk and his guys—the ones at the house—are handled. Moulsa usually gets back by five, but I can send you her live location so you can track her and move when you’re ready. She visits an abandoned farm while she’s out. That’s all I got from Urk—she kept her business private. Didn’t even tell him she was a witch. Sorry I don’t have more.”

“It’s fine, Max,” Alexis replies. “You gave us her location, and that’s more than we had before. We’ve pieced together what her ritual is. There are only a few dark witch rituals involving four dozen supernatural kids, and none of them are good. We got lucky you found them when you did. We’ll handle it from here.”

“Alright, Luke and I will stay close in case you need backup,” I tell her.

“Got it. I’ll keep you updated,” she says before ending the call.

“We’ll leave the body for the client to deal with. My camping spot’s just up ahead,” I say, leading the way down the dirt road across from the mansion.

“So what’s next?” Luke asks.

I turn to him, rising onto my toes as I loop my arms around his neck. He meets me halfway, and our lips collide—gentle at first, but quickly turning desperate. My hands skim down his chest, savoring every hard ridge of muscle.

Then, in a flash, I’m spun around and pinned against a tree. His kiss deepens, rough and hungry.

“Missed me that much, huh?” I murmur as his mouth trails to my neck.

“Always, mi alma,” he growls, pulling off my shirt. I do the same to his. There’s no tenderness—just raw need, like we’ve been stranded without each other for years.

Pants get shoved down in a hurry—his at his ankles, mine dangling from one leg. He lifts me effortlessly, my legs locking around his waist. One hard thrust, and he’s buried deep inside me, drawing a loud moan from my lips.

“God help anyone who interrupts,” Luke mutters before claiming my mouth again, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with his hips. He’s relentless, hitting every spot that makes me unravel, and I come undone over and over.

But I want more—different. Pushing him back, I drop to the ground and turn, bending over. He gets the message instantly, slamming into me from behind. The force of each thrust has me rocking back, and I’ll probably need help walking after this.

It doesn’t take long for us both to finish, collapsing together in a panting heap. He stays inside me for a few breathless seconds before pulling me up—but I’m not done looking at him, and neither is he.

With a quick move, I trip him, sending us tumbling. I land on top, straddling him, hands braced on his chest. He grips my hips as I ride him, twisting my body to change the angle each time—Oh. My. God.

He rolls us sideways, driving into me at a new angle that sends me spiraling again. I lose track—is this one endless climax or a dozen in a row? It’s almost too much. Almost.

I hook my free leg over his shoulder, and he locks an arm around it, holding me in place.

“Mi alma, didn’t know you were this flexible,” he teases.

“Oh, you have no idea,” I laugh before flipping us again. Now on my back, I keep my leg hooked over his shoulder doing the splits, pulling a groan from him as he finishes inside me once more.

After, we collapse together, breathless and marked up. He pulls me close, and I nestle against him.

“Luke,” I murmur after a moment, “after my first shift, when the rogues attacked—I knew who my packmates were. Knew their Alpha, too. How?”

He chuckles. “Mi alma, I must not have satisfied you if you’re asking about other men.”

I laugh. “Oh, trust me, my Alpha”—his growl at the title tells me he loves it—“there were moments I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. You’ve taken care of me very well.”

He growls again, then—unexpectedly—tickles me. My big, bad Alpha actually tickles me until I’m breathless and nearly pissing myself. When he finally stops, he rolls me beneath him, kissing me deeply. We stay like that, lost in each other, just enjoying the moment.

Somehow, we managed to stop. He helped me to my feet, and we dressed quickly. Hand in hand, we hurried toward my tree. As soon as I climbed up, I realized something was off—things had been disturbed.

“Hurry, we need to pack up. Someone’s been here,” I urged. Without hesitation, he shoved everything in a bag and flung the bags to the ground.

The moment our belongings hit the ground, we leaped after them. He snatched one bag, I grabbed the other, and we barely made it a safe distance away before the tree exploded.

A searing pain shot through my left side. Against my better judgment, I glanced down—and instantly regretted it. A jagged splinter of wood jutted from my flesh.