Chapter 8

8

R acing down the steps, into the parking lot, and into the rented SUV with Max exactly one step behind him, a growl escaped Rafe’s mouth as Gil’s voice invaded his mind. “Did you see that?”

“Hell yes, I saw that. She is my mate.”

Visions of Donatella bleeding out on an over-polished, dingy, tile floor had ripped him from his slumber. Dressed in less than a minute and happy to see Max ready when he nearly pulled the door of the room he was sleeping in from its hinges, Rafe had known what he was seeing was a premonition, but that did absolutely nothing to stop both man and Dragon from nearly having a heart attack.

“I know she’s your mate, but you hadn’t called to me.”

“Holy hell, man, canna guy getta break? You’re my brother, not my keeper.”

“Whatever, Asshole. I was tryin’ to help.”

Max’s barely contained chuckle instantly made Rafe realize that he was being an asshole and that Gil was just trying to help. Taking a deep breath, he admitted, “Yep, I’m a jerk. Sorry. I know you’re just doin’ your big brother thing.”

“No worries.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snapped it’s just this whole mating thing is…”

Unable to speak as the barely evident mating bond he shared with Donatella flared to life, doubling, tripling, quadrupling in size and strength until he could see what his mate was seeing, feel what she was feeling, and hear her thoughts. Pushing the accelerator to the floor as he watched her raise her hands, flip someone off, and march right into the market where a man named Earl was holding four hostages at gunpoint, Rafe roared, “What the fuck does she think she’s doing?”

“It appears she is saving the day, mi dragon,” Max grinned. “Once again proving, the Universe does not make mistakes.”

“Yep,” Gil’s authoritative tone turned comical as he added, “Ditto what the King said.”

“Shut. Up.” Rafe grumbled aloud as well as mentally.

Tamping down his flaming temper and searing emotions, he slowed the SUV to a roll as he turned the corner and entered the parking lot. Jumping from the vehicle, he caught the eye of Captain Rogers.

Making a beeline towards where his mate’s Commander and another tall, man with graying hair and a paunch he tried to hide by throwing his shoulders back, Rafe broke in, “Excuse me, but what’s the situation? What’s goin’ on in there?”

“Nat,” he cleared his throat. “Detective Hale,” Rogers quickly corrected, “Has gone in to negotiate. We have no updates past that.”

There was something the Commander wasn’t saying, Rafe could smell the Captain’s anger coupled with frustration and a touch of deceit. The noxious concoction stung the Dragon’s nose and enraged the Beast with whom he shared his soul.

Stepping forward just far enough to tower over both men, he looked down his nose and growled through gritted teeth, “What are you doing to rectify the situation, Commander?” Knowing his last word was laced with derision and an extra push of magic, Rafe added, “Or would you like the DPA to take over?”

“You’re a FED?” The older man with a gut, who also had breath that stunk of stale cigars and cheap whiskey, tried to flex his nonexistent power by leaning forward and jeering, “Who called the Desk Jockey?”

Whipping his clenched fist towards the man’s mouth, Rafe spun to the right as his hand was caught by another and forced back to his side. Glaring into Max’s eyes, he shook with rage as the King’s warning sounded in his mind, “Do not draw any more attention to yourself, Cábron. Let us find our ‘own’ way to help your Companera.”

Turning the rest of the way around without so much as a glance at the worthless men behind him, Rafe barked, “What’s your idea, Max? Speak now, and never, ever…” He stopped, snapped his head to the side and sneered aloud, “ Ever stop me from doing what needs to be done again.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, the cocky half-grin he’d surely been born with still casually curving the right side of his mouth, Max cajoled, “Was it not better to stop your rash actions than have to explain the thousand-pound Dragon reigning fire down on the men and women of the Tarrant County Sheriff’s office?”

Facing forward and storming towards the back of his SUV, Rafe muttered, “I pray your Mate whips that shit-eatin’ grin from your smug face.”

“Oh, but that she hasn’t already tried,” Max sighed with a wistful look that Rafe decided he’d investigate at a later date.

Refusing to analyze the King’s musing, needing to get Nat from inside that building and away from the madman, Rafe took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his light blue dress shirt. Closing his eyes, focusing on his mate’s thoughts, the ability to see through her eyes snapping into place, he was so shocked by what he saw, his butt nearly missed the bumper of the SUV.

“Now, Jason, I know you’re the manager of this store and you were only doin’ what you thought was best, but shouldn’t you have at least discussed what Earl wasn’t doin’ before just leavin’ a message on his answering machine tellin’ him he was fired?” Patting the younger, still frightened but incredibly trusting guy on the shoulder, she added, “And a message? On the home phone? What’s that all about?”

“It was wrong. I know that now.” The manager’s head fell forward as Nat focused on the man still holding the rifle, but with the barrel over his shoulder and not pointing at anyone.

“And you, Earl, what the hell were you thinkin’? You damn near caused Mildred here to swear off cigarettes and we both know Big Tobacco can’t take that kinda hit.” Winking at the older woman with a bright pink bow in her gray hair and lipstick to match, she teased, “But maybe a cigarette or two a day might be good for ya’, Mil.”

Back to the gunman, Nat asked, “Now, can we get the hell outta here? I haven’t had a drop of coffee and Woody Long is out there right now thinkin’ of ten different ways to storm the doors and put a bullet in your head.” Holding out her hand, her confidence so overwhelming Rafe had to smile, Nat tipped her head to the side and wiggled her fingers before adding, “Let’s fool that stupid son of a bitch just like we did when we were kids.” Listening to her chuckle with people she’d obviously known her whole life was reassuring, cooling Rafe’s temper enough for him to think straight.

“Give me that rifle,” Nat continued. “Let’s walk outta here and see if we can’t work this all out peaceably.”

Taking a deep breath and almost immediately exhaling, Earl clicked his teeth and agreed, “I’m sorry, Nat. I had one too many long necks and lost my cool.” Handing the rifle to Donatella, he went on, “How long am I gonna have to serve?”

“I don’t know, Earl, but I’ll do my best to make sure it’s the minimum. I can talk to Carolina at the Prosecutor’s Office, tell her you surrendered peacefully, nobody got hurt, and you admitted you were wrong.” Using her freehand to put her ear bud back in just as the SWAT Team was preparing to break every pane of glass on the front of the store, she advised, “Hang on just a sec, Earl. Let me tell them we’re coming out.”

Speaking into the mike attached to her earpiece, she instructed, “Commander Rogers, Woody, I’m heading out with Earl and the others. I have the gun. Instruct your men to stand down and do not approach. I will be taking Mr. Jones to the station for processing.”

Waiting as long as he could, Rafe pushed to his feet, rounded the corner of the vehicle and glared at Rogers and the man he now knew was named Long as they argued, he stalked forward. Making it exactly four steps, he breathed a sigh of relief as the Captain answered Nat, “As you wish, Detective Hale, but we will discuss protocol and your refusal to follow it this afternoon.”

“Roger that, Cap,” came her cheerful reply that almost made Rafe smile – but just almost. Once again, he was pissed, furious, and damn near ready to pop scales and breathe fire. What the hell was Nat thinking? Putting herself in danger was absolutely a no-go in his book and he planned to let her know about it.

Doing as about-face, using his enhanced speed, he raced to her car and opened the back driver’s-side door. Watching as the dressed in black from head to toe members of the SWAT Team make a path, their guns still trained on the suspect, he waited as patiently as possible as Nat steered Earl Jones towards her car.

Knowing she was purposely ignoring him as she loaded her prisoner into the car, only putting the handcuffs on as a formality and telling Earl she’d take them off as soon as they were at Central Booking, Rafe waited until she shut the door and had her hand on her own before blurting out, “You can’t ignore me forever.”

Opening her door, taking off her vest and throwing it in the car, she turned to face him, looked him right in the eye and shrugged, “That’s what you think.”