Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
“Copy that,” Raine said, pulling the truck to the side of the road. “My intel shows that Petersen’s factory is the third one down that long lane. He’s supposedly manufacturing new grenades that blow by the right radio frequency.”
Noah looked around the dark night. His shoulders stiffened, and his focus narrowed. Time to fight and kill. “Which one is the demoness’s?”
Raine shrugged. “Dunno. There are about twenty different facilities in this direction, and some a ways past that. It’s an industrial complex that feeds all of the small towns around here, and even a couple of the bigger cities. Who the hell knows what Tabitha is into? I try to stay away from her family. They’re nuts, you know.”
“I’ve heard,” Noah said. But he owed the demoness a solid for so easily offering Abby a job when she needed it. He should probably find out more about Tabitha. Maybe even get her pictures out of that bank so she could blow town if she wanted. If he survived the fight with Petersen, which he would. Memories of Clyde, fighting next to him, ran though his mind. He’d been a good male. A strong fighter and a solid friend. Nobody deserved to die by a knife to the back before a sword through the neck. He growled.
“You armed?” Raine asked.
“Yes.” Noah had stuck a knife in his boot, a small sword really, and had a gun in his waistband. But his hands itched to punch first. Petersen needed to feel the pain of broken bones for what he’d done. The guy didn’t even have a last name. Just went by Petersen. Thought it made him sound scarier.
It made him sound like a human pop star.
The blades of a helicopter cut through the wind outside. Noah craned his neck, watching as the bird set down gracefully outside of a sprawling blue metal building. Three soldiers jumped out, all armed with full automatics, and quickly scouted the area. Petersen then jumped out, looking around.
Everything inside Noah quieted and chilled. Cold as death.
He stretched out of the truck and moved forward, keeping low and to the fence line.
Raine showed up at his side.
He paused. “What are you doing?”
“It’s four to one, and while your fighting skills are legendary, I won’t get my information if you get your head removed,” Raine muttered, drawing a green gun from his waistband.
“Yes, you will. I texted Benny earlier,” Noah said. He always kept his word.
“Good.” Raine didn’t slow down. “Even so, we never finished our fight earlier, so I figure I’ll jump in this time. No charge.”
Fair enough.
The soldiers fanned out, and Petersen unlocked a human-sized door and strode inside, light spilling out.
“I’ll take the one on the right,” Noah muttered, heading for the closest soldier.
“I’ll take left and then the one circling while you head inside,” Raine said, sounding almost gleeful.
Noah lowered his chin and snuck up on the soldier, quickly putting him in a headlock. It was almost too easy. What kind of force had Petersen hired? Did he not know he was being hunted? Noah held on long enough to choke the guy out until death. Well, almost. He smelled like a full vampire, so he’d wake up in an hour or so, but by then, it’d be too late.
Keeping low, Noah beelined for the door and gingerly opened it to see a darkened spacious reception area. The light came from an office down the hallway. He removed his gun and crept toward the light, his boots making no sound on the cement floor. He’d been fighting since his early teens, and even though he tried to keep a low profile, he was known in the immortal world. So why was Petersen in the building without backup? The guy really was an arrogant ass.
Noah turned the corner to find Petersen waiting on the other side of the desk, his arms crossed. The feline shifter, a tiger, was at least five hundred years old with lighter brown hair, electric metallic eyes, and a muscled form. “Clyde was asking for it.”
Anger took Noah and he stepped inside the office, shutting the door behind himself. “Why are you making this easy on me?” He tuned in his senses and could find no other signatures in the building. None of this was making sense.
“I think I can kick your ass,” Petersen said easily, his arms loose at his sides.
A fair fight, then? Excellent. Noah smiled. “To the death?”
“Sure. I’ve never lost in a death match,” Petersen said, shaking out his shoulders.
“No shit, dumbass,” Noah retorted. “You’re still standing here.” What an idiot. “How did you get the drop on Clyde, anyway?” He asked the question calmly, refusing to let anger in again. That had to come after the fight.
Petersen shrugged a muscled shoulder. “I had help. Clyde was almost as good a fighter as you. Didn’t want to take him on myself. Turns out the shifter bitch wasn’t even worth it.”