“Don’t lie to her, man,” Kurt said, snickering as Randon hurried by him.
“Mr. Shane, do you mind telling me what is going on?” Sheriff McKinney slammed something against the podium.
“Not at all.” He stopped right inside the main exit.
“Please don’t do this,” she begged, suspecting why she was suddenly ill. She’d once worked with a group of renegade supernaturals who had turned their mates and then deserted them for some sort of universal cause. Their mates fell violently ill. Some of them even died.
“I’m waiting,” Sheriff McKinney said. “In fact, we’re all curious —all twenty-three of us. We can’t wait to know what was so damned important that you couldn’t wait, Mr. Shane.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Detective Keen is physically ill.” He turned to the room as if he wanted everyone to see. “She’s hot to the touch, pale, and her entire body is one complete tremor.” Accusation hung in the air. “You call yourselves detectives and officers, but no one noticed the detective right in front of them. She’s a very sick woman!”
Muted whispers and exclamations of surprise filled her dizzy head as a blur of bluish bodies spun around her. Her sixth sense took over and she gripped a handful of Randon’s shirt. “He’s here.”
“You’re fine, baby. I’ve got ‘cha.” His voice reverberated throughout the room. Each syllable echoed in the distance. She realized he was still addressing the sheriff, but she couldn’t make out what Sheriff McKinney said back to him. The wong-wong-wong humming in her eardrums made her think of a hospital recovery room. Years ago, she’d had some minor surgery and when she’d awakened, she’d been dazed and confused.
Another light blue shadow encircled the room. It was as if a couple of ghosts had entered the meeting hall and stretched their bodies from side to side in order to surround them.
Unable to get a handle on her reckless mind spinning out of control, she struggled to hold her head up, desperate to make them all understand. “No. Randon. Please listen to me.” She jerked his shirt with all her might. “Listen…the extortionist. He’s here. Look. At. The. Room.”
A foggy haze fell over the area. Randon leapt into action. He kicked open the exit door as if he thought they were already barricaded inside. “Clear the area! Get out of here! Scatter! Now!”
Mass confusion broke free as chairs and tables toppled over. Windows were broken out as members of the MC threw themselves out the nearest possible point of exit. Everyone rushed out of the building, screaming at the top of their lungs.
Randon sprinted across the parking lot, shouted obscenities to a pedestrian, and flagged down a motorist. Once they were safely in the backseat of the car, he gave quick instructions to the driver and whispered at her ear, “You’ll be just fine, Pageant. I swear it. Once I get you taken care of, you’ll never have to worry about the withdrawals again.”
Her head rolled one way or the other. She tried to look up but couldn’t gain the strength. Somehow, she finally managed, “Withdrawals from what?”
“Me.”
Chapter Thirteen
“There isn’t a dignified way to do this.” Randon stripped off his shirt, kicked off his boots, and shucked his slacks.
“Randon?”
“I’m right here, baby.” He grabbed hold of her legs, pulled her to the edge of the bed, and plucked her shoes from her feet. “Hang on, Pageant. Everything will be okay.”
Damn it! He’d known how crucial the mating hours were. He’d been warned time and time again. If a new mate didn’t fully understand what had transpired between them, they ran the risk of a physical withdrawal. The only way to ensure there wasn’t a relapse of any sort was to make absolutely certain the mates understood their place.
He hadn’t done that. Hell, he hadn’t even thought about it.
Rushing against time, Randon stripped his mate down to her panties and bra. About that time, he heard footsteps in the hallway.
“Who’s there?” He grabbed his jacket and withdrew his forty-five.
“Whoa, man. It’s just me.” Kurt put his hands up in the air. “Just letting you know we’ve got the place surrounded.”
“Make sure you spread out.” Aware of the marked lust in Kurt’s eyes, Randon snarled at his pal. “Anything else?”
Pageant’s head bobbed against her pillow. A light moan fell from her lips.
“Yeah. How are you gonna fuck that?”
“Out!” Randon stalked the bedroom door and slammed it in his buddy’s face. When he turned back to the bed, his heart skipped a few beats.
For a tough as nails detective, Pageant sure looked vulnerable. He admired the woman stretched out before him and wished a thousand times he could capture this moment, at least the start of it, so he could later share what he’d seen, how he’d viewed her before he took her.
Lowering himself to the bed, he tilted her head to his and smoothed his lips over hers. “I’ll never do anything to hurt you, Pageant.”