Chapter 19
Dyson tucked a gun in his shoulder holster – more a matter of habit, a leftover of his cop days than any real necessity – his best weapon was always with him and didn't need reloading at most inopportune moments. After a second's hesitation he slipped his police badge he had conveniently forgotten to hand in when he was quitting the force into his jacket. You never knew what might work best on doctor Taft as a means of persuasion. Thus prepared, he was on his way to the door when a sound from his inside pocket made him stop in his tracks.
"Don't let it be Kenzi running into a hitch," he murmured as he flipped the cell out. The girl had assured him airily that she would find a way to slip out unnoticed but he was still having doubts having seen the fortified mansion himself.
"Tams?" his tone raised in volume after he read the caller's id, "What's up?"
"A prisoner's up and about," the husky voice travelled down the line, uncharacteristically flustered and slightly out of breath, "An ogre burst out of his cage and I am having a bit of a difficulty getting him back in. So, if your highness deigns to drag his wolf-ass here and lend a paw, I might consider not busting your balls any time soon. Out of gratitude."
Dyson barked a "Be with you in ten" and aced the subtle modern skill of sending texts on the run as he sprinted to his car. As he burned rubber along the street he hoped Kenzi would be able to decipher his heavily abbreviated message and that whatever-sized ogre Tamsin was struggling with wouldn't be too protracted of a hindrance.
Ten promised minutes later the wolf burst into the inconspicuous and magically guarded building that had been the fae resistance headquarter since the fae resistance began and cluttered downstairs taking his directions from the raised voices that were wafting up.
The tableau of a sweaty and puffing Tamsin, her jacket ripped, her light hair in disarray and her expression positively livid, made him stop for a gloating second but the snarling crazed-looking ogre she was tangled with forced the shifter straight into action. Not that he doubted the vakyrie's fighting prowess, but the sputtering red face in her head lock was not the one he had hoped to see in any foreseeable future. He yanked the ogre off the woman and wavered, peering into the all too familiar mug, now blanked out beyond its usual concentrated dimness.
"Get him!" Tamsin hissed from somewhere behind the two wrestling men and, oddly enough, both of them seemed to take her words to heart. Before Dyson could honor his commander's order, Steve suddenly heaved in his grip as if getting some serious second wind and, with a colossal effort, threw the shifter off him and against the bars of the cage and, for good measure, sank a fist into his ribs.
Dyson felt an excruciating shot of pain as a rib splintered under the half-healed flesh of his side and the back of his head hit the metal bars with a dry thump and, significantly dulled by these overwhelming sensations, a barely perceptible prick somewhere in the flesh of his forearm. The next moment the ogre stumbled back and the Valkyrie inserted herself between the men.
"Still dreaming, Dyson?" she yelled, driving Steve away from the dazzled wolf with a couple of nicely aimed blows of her own.
"Fully awake," the wolf snarled unpeeling himself from the bars and, gritting his teeth against the pain, he lunged forward and brought the ogre to the ground, winded and quickly choking.
"What shall we do with him?" Dyson added a hefty slap to further calm the captive down and looked up into the blonde's scrunched face.
"Back into the cage," the Valkyrie tugged the ogre up by one of his now limp arms as Dyson hoisted him up almost wishing Steve would spring into action again, offer up some more resistance and give them a legitimate reason to quieten him forever. But the huge fae was no more energetic than a rag-doll as he was dragged across the room and thrown into the cage, without muttering a protest or lifting an eyelid.
"What's his deal?" the wolf leaned against the bars as soon as the door was clung shut, "Didn't like the prison food?"
"I don't like our food either," Tamsin panted back, "And I might've overdone it a bit with the interrogation."
"As in I might've accidentally fried his brain trying to get him to tell me anything approaching intelligence on his mistress the late Morrigan," she elaborated under the wolf's quizzical gaze, "In my defense, there was not that much to fry."
"Aren't you giving your all to the cause?" the wolf mumbled sarcastically, though more than relived at hearing Steve, with his roasted mind, was not likely to recognize him from their brief encounter.
"The late Morrigan?" he asked, belatedly registering the use of the title.
"Yep, her bitchy dark highness snuffed it," the Valkyrie went on, "I personally say good riddance and a thank you to whoever dispatched her but Trick is livid – he had some designs on Evony. And he's pissed someone broke his direct orders of taking her alive. That is, if the dispatcher is one of ours."
"Is he?" the wolf asked, his face almost inscrutable beyond a wince of pain as his hand pressed against his disturbed wound.
"No idea, we haven't got the body, a human coroner got to her first and we have lost a lot of our contacts when you and I had to leave the force and slip under the radar," Tamsin returned just as levelly.
A heavy pause ensued, long enough for either of them to confide, each their own piece, an invitation that they choose to ignore, were too far gone and boggled down in their lies and shifting priorities to take.
Finally, Dyson got enough breath back to consider moving and straightened. "I need to go, Tams, unless you have any more ogres to subdue, errands to run?" he asked absent-mindedly, focused on recalling if he had tanked up.
"Free as a bird," Tamsin dismissed him with a wave, "Just don't let anyone run you ragged. I might have a little assignment for you when you come back."
"Hopefully, the new one won't entail any rib-damage," Dyson grumbled back, "I seem to have been knocked around a bit too much these days."
"Ok, I'll send you to work the ladies," the blonde chortled back, "If you're getting too old to work the men."
If the wolf was less distracted by the pain and his Kenzi-bound train of thought, he might pick up on some open maliciousness in the woman's tone but catching the nuances hadn't been his forte at the best of times and he left without a backwards glance, followed by a singing pair of green eyes, hurt and spelling revenge.
###
"Is there an active threat?" Hale asked, obviously surprised by the out-of-the-blue detail the succubus had just dumped on him, "If there's such, I need to be with Kenzi."
Bo plastered on the gravest mien she can collect her features into and glared at the man, "Last time I checked I am the head of security here, Hale, so let me leave your question go unanswered and do my job. Suffice it to say I have my reasons to believe we need an extra fae patrolling the outer perimeter tonight. You'll be relieved tomorrow and don't forget to report in with me straightaway. And hope I don't need to remind you what kind of punishment deserting your post entails?"
"I would never think of deserting and letting my Queen down," the man replied miserably, "But Kenzi?"
"Kenzi'll be perfectly fine, promise," Bo was mollified by the genuine worry lurking in his big brown eyes, "And believe me, you'll be doing her a good deed by doing just what I've told you to."
As soon as the siren left, Bo turned her attention to the surveillance system and squinted at the screen as Kenzi's small figure stomped out of the house, slightly hunched and visibly unsure if she was going to make it out quietly as had been promised, or caught in the blaring of alarms.
"Still don't trust me fully, smart girl," the succubus muttered as her fingers nimbly ran across the keyboard wiping the short piece of footage that registered the little human's exit, "No surprise you've lost faith in humanity with a bio like yours."
"Time to deal with the love of my life, who just happens to be a genius and a disturbed vindictive tyrant," she threw her jacket off her shoulders and undid the top buttons of her top on her way to the lab, "Best recipe – entice, satisfy and exhaust."
With that plan of action playing right into her strength, Bo made short work of the first point and soon found herself on the brink of engaging in the next two.
"You do need to relax, cupcake," the succubus ran her hands across the doctor's tensed shoulders, her fingers digging into the flesh expertly.
"I know," Lauren leaned into her touch with a sigh, "And that's why I allowed you to drag me out of the lab."
"You practically ordered me to get you out at any cost," Bo laughed, "I considered seduction but thought physical coercion would be quicker."
"Is there any seduction to follow?" the blonde's lips curled into a smile as she turned to face her lover.
"Is that another order?" the other woman's hands slid down and found purchase around the slim waist, "Or can I take any creative liberties?"
"Oh, you are good with taking," Lauren gasped as cool fingers worked their way inside her blouse. "I mean, taking liberties…" she stumbled, her thoughts wandering as the warm body pressed into hers, leading her the few short steps to the bed, pulling her down onto its silk expanse.
###
Dyson rounded the corner of the street and the tension floated from his body at the sight of a diminutive figure pacing the sidewalk, her arms wrapped around herself for warmth or reassurance.
"Your carriage, my lady," he tried for goofily gallant as he threw the passenger door open and the girl looked in cutting off his gracious half-bow with a rebuke, "You're late and my bum is frozen to beyond numb."
"Sorry, something urgent came up," he sincerely apologized and cranked up the heater as she slipped in and started fidgeting in her seat, settling in and restarting circulation in the part she had complained of freezing off.
"No baggage?" the wolf quirked an eye-brow.
"Plenty of," she countered calmly, "the kind I never leave behind. The rest can be bought on the way on as and if required."
"Right," Dyson nodded, recognizing the wisdom of making her escape without being loaded down with a suitcase. "A pit-stop at a drug-store?" he added, his fingers fluttering across the blooded spot on his shirt strategically covered by his jacket but clearly not getting any smaller, "I might need some supplies too."
"Packed your Teddy and left out a tooth-brush?" Kenzi quipped, eying his profile, "Or is it a chew-toy?"
"Do the belt up," the wolf grunted back and stretched his own long arm to tug it across her slim body and click it shut when she didn't seem in any particular hurry to do it herself.
The girl visibly tensed at the physical contact but didn't flinch. "The fact that we kissed doesn't make you my social worker," she pouted, "Next thing I know you're gonna bug me about my greens and flossing."
"I am a fast driver," Dyson grinned toothily, "Belting up is a must for human passengers. And food which is green and not meat is something we, wolves, sniff at and pee on."
A slight smile played on her lips as she relaxed into her seat, relaxed by the warmth and by his deep voice, slanting a look at the suburbs flying by.
"Got out all right?" he asked in a more serious vein and saw her nod, "Weird that your sister just lets you into the big scary world full of her ill-wishers."
"She doesn't if she can help it," Kenzi mumbled back, unwilling to admit she had had help, "But I have my ways."
"Which you might need to work on," the wolf was suddenly barking as he gripped the steering wheel and floored the accelerator, switching lanes, "We're being followed."