Disclaimer: I own neither Inuyasha nor Gangsta. and make no money from these writings.

Love Is Dangerous

Chapter One

"Damn," Worick breathed as he stepped into the back room of the warehouse. Pushing a hand through his bangs, he looked around at the bodies littering the floor and sighed. It was mostly women. There were a few young men, probably still teenagers, mixed in with the small massacre. His frown deepened when he spotted a few children piled together in a corner.

They'd been too late.

There was a new crime organization trying to move into some of the Ergastulum districts. From what information could be gathered, it was a fairly small operation, but they were trying to get their fingers in a lot of pies. They dabbled in a little bit of everything - drugs, weapons, prostitution, extortion, human trafficking - but it left their small group thinly spread and made it easier to get in over their heads.

Honestly, they weren't exactly anything new to him and Nic. They'd taken care of similar up and coming thugs in the past with little to no trouble. But things had gone to hell this time.

Word had gotten out that they had some new product for their trafficking ring that they were getting ready to sell off and move; women, boys, and small children that would be sold to the highest bidders and kept as either personal property or put in brothels. The goal had been to go to their warehouse, take out the gang, and secure the trafficking victims until the police arrived. At least, that's what would have happened in a perfect world.

In the end, it appeared that the scum had been tipped off that they were coming and decided to cut ties and beat it instead of try to move their merchandise before anyone showed up. And that was how Worick found himself standing in a dimly lit back room full of the unfortunate bodies of people who'd probably just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some were shot, some were stabbed and slashed, it looked as though they'd tried to kill everyone as quickly as possible before making a run for it. They didn't want any witnesses who could ID them or give information about any of their members or operations.

Quickly dialing a familiar number, Worick listened to a couple of rings before the other end of the line was picked up. "Chad? There was a problem." As he explained the situation and listened to the Inspector swear and yell on the other end of the phone, he watched Nic make a round through the room, but he doubted that his friend would find anything of value. Everyone in the room had been dressed in simple, nondescript clothes, and anything of value they'd had on them at the time of their abduction would have been taken from them a long time ago. "Yeah, you're gonna need to bring some body bags. It's not pretty."

Despite the complaining voice in his ear, Worick's attention zeroed in completely on Nicolas when the shorter man stiffened before moving quickly. Stepping around fallen bodies and moving a couple out of the way, the swordsman knelt to the ground before waving him over.

"Hold on a second, Inspector," Worick spoke into his phone before he made his way over to Nic's side. "What's up?" But when Nicolas pointed down at the body directly in front of them, his eyes widened. A set of bleary blue eyes slowly blinked up at him as pale, blood-stained lips moved wordlessly. The raspy wheeze that came from the gaping slash in the woman's throat was unsettling, even to him.

"Chad?" He said returned to his phone conversation once again. "Bring an ambulance with those body bags, and hurry. One of them's still alive." The fact that they should hurry was implied, but he wasn't sure if or how long the woman would make it even if she was treated right then.

Hanging up from his call, assured that Chad was on his way with backup and an ambulance, Worick tried to think of what to do, but he wasn't a doctor. That was when he heard the ripping of fabric and saw Nic ripping what clean bits of cloth he could from the clothing of the people around them.

Why? Why did life seem to continually screw her over? What had she ever done?

Kagome didn't even know where she was anymore. She and her friends had decided to take a vacation together for a little fun and relaxation. It had been their...second? Third night of vacation? She couldn't even remember anymore. They'd gone to a popular bar in the city they were staying in, but she'd decided to play the role of the sober friend that evening. One of her friends hadn't felt well and she'd decided to walk the sick woman back to their hotel.

From there, things had happened so fast that it was mostly a blur. A dark street. Several men. She tried to yell for help, but there wasn't anyone close enough to hear. And the two of them had been taken.

They'd been separated some time ago, and Kagome had no idea what had become of her friend. She could only imagine that the other woman was in a similar situation, but she hoped that it wasn't the case.

Then things had gone from bad to worse. The men who'd been keeping her and many others captive had come barging into the room they were being kept in and just started shooting. No one was able to run. They were all bound and tied. It had been an execution with no preamble or explanation. The men that didn't have guns used knives, and Kagome never knew that she would have had a preference until put in the horrific situation she found herself in.

Fatal as it was, as least a gun was quick. She tried to scream as the metal of the knife first bit into her skin, but the sound was cut of almost as soon as it started and replaced with a wet, choking sound.

When the man who'd sliced open her throat released her hair and allowed her to fall to the ground, Kagome could only stare up at the ceiling in shock. It was surreal, the feeling of warm blood steadily flowing out of her neck and into a sticky puddle around her head and shoulders. This was it. This was where she would die. After everything that could have killed her when she was just fifteen, it was going to be a knife to the throat when she was twenty-seven in some random room in a country she wasn't even sure of anymore. It was so messed up it was almost funny.

There on the concrete floor, covered in her own blood and that of several other people, Kagome let hot, bitter tears sting at her eyes as she waited for darkness to take her.

Eyes closed, she listened to the chaos die down before things went completely quiet. There were a few moans and gasps in the quiet, probably from people similar to herself who were waiting for death. But soon there was nothing. Only a soft hissing sound that it took her a few minutes to recognize as her attempts to breath through the hole in her throat.

She was just beginning to get a little dizzy when she heard footsteps. And a voice. Who was that? Had someone come back? It didn't sound like any of them men she'd heard before. She wanted to open her eyes and look, but she was so tired. Did she even have the strength to open her eyes anymore?

It was only when a rough and warm hand touched her cool skin that she was able to finally make herself lift her heavy eyelids. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He looked a little tired, though not as tired as she felt. He was frowning at her. Why? Did she look as bad as she felt? Probably. But she didn't know him. Did that mean he wasn't with the people who'd taken her?

Kagome tried to clear her head a little. Was he there to save them? Well, he was probably too late for most everyone else, but did she still have a chance? How much blood had she lost? Breathing was hard, but she was still doing it. In and out. In and out. She got a little blood every few breaths, but she didn't really have the strength to cough it up anymore.

Another man came to stand over her. There were others? He was talking on a cellphone. What was he saying? She couldn't quite make out the words. Things were getting fuzzy around the edges now.

No.

Stop.

Not now.

Blinking a few times, Kagome tried to clear her vision. She didn't want the darkness anymore. She needed to stay awake. "Help. Please help," she tried to say. When she didn't hear herself say anything, she wasn't sure if it was her ears or her voice that wasn't working. Maybe both.

The fuzzy edges were closing in again, and this time there wasn't any fighting it. She felt large hands on her, probably trying to keep her awake, but she just didn't have the strength or energy to open her eyes again. The last thing she was aware of before losing consciousness completely was the feeling of rough, scratchy fabric being pressed against her throat.