Big Bad Bite (9 page)

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Authors: Jessie Lane

Tags: #werewolf romance, #shifters romance, #shifters, #paranormal romance, #demons, #adult paranormal romance, #werewolves, #shapeshifters, #urban fantasy

BOOK: Big Bad Bite
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Turning quickly, she headed out of the front
entrance and started jogging to the back of the parking lot where
her bike was sitting, pulling her helmet on in the process. As she
backed her bike out of the spot, the sense of being watched
prickled the hairs on the back of her neck, and she looked up. Adam
stood braced against the club’s outer wall, bright amber eyes
tracking her, while he stood with his arms crossed over his chest
in a classic pose of easy dominance. His eyes telling her with a
calculated gleam that he knew this was more than work calling her
away. This was her using work to run away. From him.

Amy and Clay burst through the club’s front
entrance, watching her with questioning eyes as she maneuvered her
bike around. Damn, she had to get out of this place fast. Gunning
the motor she tore out of the parking lot like a pack of wolves
were nipping at her heels. When reality was, she was leaving them
safely behind.

 

 

Chapter Five

Forty minutes later Jenna was dressed in black BDU’s with freshly
brushed teeth to hide the smell of alcohol that had long since
metabolized out of her system. With the familiar weights of a gun
on her hip and an assault rifle on her lap, she sat with the rest
of her unit quietly heading to where a hostage situation now ensued
at a popular restaurant in town. The taste of adrenaline and
anticipation was coursing through her blood while she sat next to
Kent, waiting for the van to arrive at the scene. When the squeal
of tires finally came, Capt. Nelson signaled for them to wait while
he obtained more details.

Moments later they were gathered around a
large fold out table with blue prints of the restaurant laid out
before them. The Chief of Police stood with Capt. Nelson and four
other officers that she had yet to identify, talking about possible
points of entry. Finally, they looked up at them, and the Police
Chief wiped the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief before he
spoke.

“Listen up! Here’s the situation. SWAT Team 2
was on assignment this evening to guard a group of Senators and
their families at an informal dinner this evening. An hour ago
eight men charged into the restaurant and somehow managed to take
out the six members of Team 2 stationed inside. We have a confirmed
two dead and the condition of the other four officers are unknown.
They’ve shut the blinds so the three remaining Team 2 members who
were stationed as snipers in some of the high rise buildings around
us can’t get a clear shot. In that time, our negotiator has made
contact, and they are issuing a ransom demand for ten million
dollars or they say that the Senators and their families will die.”
The sudden silence around the group magnified the severity of the
situation as they all took steadying breaths.

The Police Chief took in everyone’s reaction,
and then continued, “This is what we’re going to do. There’s a
small outer access door that leads to a crawl space above the
restaurant here on the side of the building. There’s an inner
access door that then leads from the crawl space to directly above
the kitchens here.” He pointed to the blue prints on the table.
“We’ll send someone inside to breach the crawl space and drop below
into the kitchens. Once there, after they’ve secured the area they
need to let three other team members inside through the back door,
here. The remaining six in this team will be stationed near the
front doors and windows in case anyone tries to escape. Does
everyone understand so far?”

A chorus of “yes sirs” sounded off.

Wiping the sweat from his brow again, the
Police Chief looked at Capt. Nelson. “Assign the positions,
Captain.”

“How big is the access door, sir?” Capt.
Nelson’s eyebrows furrowed.

The Chief looked at him with a grim
expression. “Pretty damn small.”

Turning back to face his team, Capt. Nelson
looked at them thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the entirety of the
unit as he analyzed their sizes. After a few seconds, his gaze
settled on Jenna. “O’Conner, you’re going through the access door.
Kent, Dubinski, and Walters, you’re going to go with O’Conner and
make sure she gets in that door. Once she does, double back around
the building to the kitchen exit and wait for her to open it for
you. You’ll be the four going in. Put comm. links on before you
go.”

As a group, the four SWAT members walked to
the next table, strapping the comm. links to their ears as the
Captain gave the remaining members of their team positions to cover
between the windows and front entrance of the restaurant. Once they
strapped helmets on, Jenna’s group ran through the shadows to the
back of the restaurant, circling around to the side where the outer
access door to the crawl space was located. Snug against the brick
wall, she and Kent looked up to find the small one and a half by
two foot wood panel entrance approximately nine feet up the
building. She would need to quietly knock the panel in to get
inside.

As the familiar, anticipatory drip of sweat
traveled from her neck and down to her back, she told herself that
it was due to the muggy North Carolina night combined with the
weight of her uniform and weapons. It was not because her nerves
were suddenly tense with the knowledge that if somehow she failed
tonight, it could cost the lives of the politicians, their families
and the officers trapped inside, as well as the members of her
team. Blowing out a mighty breath of air to relieve the tension in
her chest, Jenna clamped down on the overwhelming feelings of
what-if.

Looking at the three men surrounding her, she
grunted, “Going to need a boost up boys.” Pulling the silencer that
connected to the riffle out of one of her cargo pockets, she
screwed it on to the end of the barrel as Kent and Dubinski joined
their hands to give her a lift. With the silencer in place, she
slung the riffle across her back by its strap, and stepped onto
their joined hands. Lifting her quickly and efficiently, her hands
connected with the thin wooden paneling gluing the access door
closed. Jenna braced her hands on both sides of the panel, then
pushed forcefully until a pop and rush of uncirculated air leaked
out. Most humans would have probably had to punch at the panel
repeatedly to loosen it. Luckily her strength was enough to breach
the panel in a way that she could pry it open without making
noise.

She set the loose panel down inside the crawl
space as Kent and Dubinski lifted Jenna another foot up so that her
head and arms easily slid through the space, enabling her to pull
the rest of her body through the small hole. Pushing up on to her
glove-covered hands, she quickly scanned the area. The space was
only four feet high so she was unable to stand, forcing her to
crawl to the other side of the space to the trap door that led down
to the kitchen. The air was thick with dust and itched her
sensitive nose, forcing her to scrunch it up to stifle the urge to
sneeze. Ever so quietly, she made her way on hands and knees with
the riffle still strapped to her back. The sound of a man shouting
below helped to cover any minute noises she might have made in the
process.

With the trap door now in front of her, she
pulled the riffle around and squared it against her shoulder. Lying
down on her belly, she grabbed the rustic wooden handle with her
left hand and started to inch it open slowly until two inches were
available for her to look through and scan some of the area below.
Through the crack she saw a line of stainless steel stoves against
one wall with nothing else in sight. Holding perfectly still, she
counted to ten to pass some time in case anyone might have heard
her, before easing the door open another few inches. Still no
movement from below. Using the half a foot of space she’d acquired,
Jenna craned her neck in every direction, looking for signs of a
possible threat. Taking a deep breath, she tested the air for
scents. There didn’t seem to be anything in her immediate area and
the small snippets of sound she could hear seemed to drift from
further beyond the confines of the kitchen.

Taking one last deep breath to steady her,
Jenna pulled the trap door open while dropping flat against the
floor of the attic crawl space. Bracing her weight with hands on
either side of the entrance, she then lowered her body to the floor
below to finally drop in a crouch low to the ground. After a
furtive glance around to make sure she hadn’t been seen, her mind
worked quickly to scan the kitchen, assessing for possible threats.
The kitchen was altogether abandoned. It seemed as if the
assailants had moved everyone to the confines of the front
room.

Turning her head to the right, she spotted
the ‘EXIT’ sign over the back door and started to move towards it.
But before she reached it, an unmistakable smell caught her
attention. Shifter. More than one person in this restaurant was a
shifter, and she’d bet her trigger finger it was the assailants
holding the people hostage. That would explain why they were able
to overpower Team 2; because they were faster and stronger than the
average human. Even a highly trained law enforcement official
didn’t stand a chance against a shifter. But why would shifters do
something this blatantly in the eye of the public? Did they not
care that they were risking exposure of the entire supernatural
community to the humans? Surely the possibility of ransoming a few
million dollars wouldn’t be enough to commit anything this
dangerous.

The situation had now transformed from bad to
‘FUBAR’ in a matter of seconds, and she had to think quickly on how
to salvage it without risking any casualties to the hostages, or to
her team outside. Running over the options quickly in her head, she
came to the grim conclusion that only she and Kent had a chance of
going up against the suspects in the other room. Dubinski and
Walters would end up being more of a liability than an asset at
this point. The best use for those two would be to try and get
hostages out of their way. As Jenna moved stealthily towards the
back door, the electronic panel box on the wall caught her eye and
gave her an idea.

Focusing her thoughts towards Kent, she
hesitantly reached out telepathically for him.
“Kent? Can you
hear me?”

A small moment of shock colored her thoughts
before his response,
“What’s wrong?”


I’m in the kitchen about to open the door
for you guys, but we have a problem. I smell shifters. How much you
want to bet they’re our gunmen?”


Fuck.”


Exactly. Dubinski and Walters will more
than likely get in our way.”


What do you recommend, Jenna?”


What if we turn out the lights? The panel
box is in the kitchen. You and I can position ourselves, have one
of them shut the lights off and then they can start grabbing
hostages to maneuver out the kitchen door. What do you
think?”

Worry flowed through the tentative mental
link they shared.
“Eight is a hell of a lot of shifters for two
of us to take out on our own. Think we can draw any of them into
the kitchen before we shut the lights off and then charge the main
room?”


Possibly. I’ll let you guys in. We’ll
tuck ourselves behind the racks in here, knock a pan over, and then
see who comes. we can proceed with the lights out plan then, how’s
that sound?”


Like the best we’re going to get. When
you open the door, I’ll give the necessary hand signals to Dubinski
and Walters.”

Closing the mental connection, she took one
last look around and then travelled the few steps to the back door.
As she pushed the bar to open the door, a loud buzzing sounded
indicating movement from the door. Silently cursing and faces
filled with alarm, Kent, Dubinski and Walters shuffled into the
kitchen to tuck themselves behind counters and conceal their
presence. Just then, a startled voice from the front barked orders
for someone to go check on the noise.

So much for just knocking a damn pot
over.

Kent’s hands flew in furious signals to the
team as he dispatched orders while the sounds of rapid footsteps
approached. The smell of fear, anxiety and shifter pulled closer
until Jenna could see the forms of two large men easing cautiously
into the kitchen. With their guns drawn, they each turned from side
to side as they put one slow step in front of the other, edging
closer to Jenna’s small four-man team hidden in the rear. When the
two were only a few feet from them, Kent gave the thumbs up signal
and Jenna launched out from behind the counter with him as they
used the butts of their riffles to knock the two men unconscious.
Dubinski and Walters leapt forward, grabbing the arms of the now
lifeless bodies to pull them out of the way while she and Kent
stalked to the entrance that led from the kitchen and into the main
room beyond. Mere seconds later, a booming voice asked the status
from the two men who had come to investigate. Dubinski then reached
the panel and started flipping switches to shut off all of the
lights.

Screams erupted out of the darkness that
followed. Kent and Jenna used that cover to burst through the door
as mass confusion set in. Puffs of air popped from her gun as she
leveled her aim at one of the two suspects still standing near the
front door; Kent made his own shot while diving for cover behind
the bar. The terrified customers huddled on the floor beneath their
tables, while the remaining four suspects scattered throughout the
room taking cover. With the kitchen door propped open, Dubinski
motioned for the hostages at nearby tables to crawl to them so that
they could be directed towards safety outside.

A guttural voice yelled from the other side
of the room, “I’ll kill them! You better fucking believe I’ll kill
them all!”

She and Kent peered over the edge of the bar
to take stock of where the remaining suspects were stationed.
Several shots rang over their heads, forcing them to duck back down
to safety. Taking a deep breath, she analyzed the scents and tastes
of others around her. Fear was paramount in the room. Anger was the
next overwhelming scent. Past that she could taste blood. Probably
that of the two officers they were told were already dead. The
saltiness of tears was faint. Everything she would expect from the
situation. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Dubinski and
Walters stationed themselves, crouched on either side of the door,
waiting for the next signal.

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