Darkness Unbound (Dark Angels 1)

There were several doors leading off it, and one at the very end. I checked each one as I went, but they were little more than dust-strewn offices. The end one led into another loading bay.

“Your friend is being held in the rooms beyond the door to the right,” Azriel said softly.

“And the men?”

“One is near the door, the other outside the room that contains Tao.”

Which had to mean they were human—any nonhuman would have sensed my presence by now. “And are they armed?”

“They have guns, yes.”

Which meant there was no way of getting through that door without alerting the man guarding Tao. And I had no idea what his orders might be if there were intruders.

I could slip past them in Aedh form, but that still left them conscious and dangerous. Both men needed to be out of action before I attempted to free Tao, but how did I bring the first man down without alerting the second?

I glanced at the roller door. “Can Valdis melt that lock as easily as she melted the chain?”

“Of course. Why?”

“Because they have guns, so charging straight at them isn’t a viable option.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded and jumped down to the loading bay floor. I followed, watching the ripple of muscle across his back as he moved. Real or not, it was mighty damn fine.

He placed Valdis against the lock, and a second later it was little more than metal puddles on the concrete. “You’d better do that disappearing thing you do,” I said, as I reached for the shape-shifting magic.

He did as I asked. I fixed the image of a dark-haired, green-eyed woman in my mind and reached for the shifting magic. Its rise was almost reluctant, slithering through my body rather than surging, so that it took longer than normal to alter my features. When the magic finally faded, I grabbed at the nearest wall for support and briefly wondered how the hell I was going to get through the rest of the day. I took several deep breaths that seemed to chase weakness away—at least for the moment—then tied the ends of my shirt up under my breasts, exposing a whole lot of stomach. Then I grabbed the roller door and opened it up.

“Hello?” I called out. “Anyone here?”

For a moment there was no response, then, “What the hell do you want, lady?”

My gaze swept the still-closed doorway. I couldn’t see him through the small glass porthole but I had no doubt he could see me. My senses crawled with the awareness of his proximity. “My car broke down and for some stupid reason I can’t get phone reception. Have you got a cell I can borrow?”

There was no immediate answer, but, after a moment, the door opened and a big, tattooed man appeared. As I suspected, he was human, but he was also all muscle, and he moved like a fighter—light on his feet.

His gaze swept me, resting briefly on my exposed stomach before flicking back to my face. “There’s a phone booth down the road.”

“Yeah, I’ve already tried that, but it’s been vandalized.”

“So why come here?” Though his pose was casual, he had one hand slightly behind his back, and I had no doubt it held a gun. “How did you even know we were in here?”

It was just my luck to strike a guard who was neither a fool nor sidetracked by the flash of flesh. “How do you think I knew? I’m a werewolf. I smelled you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Really,” I said, the irritation in my voice not in the least bit faked. “Look, if you don’t want to help, fine. Just tell me where another phone booth is, and I’ll be on my way.”

“There are some houses one street over, or Scienceworks is a block away to the right.”

“Thanks for nothing, bud,” I muttered and turned away. So much for doing things the easy way.

“Wait,” he said, just as I ducked under the door.

I turned, bending back under the door and, in the process, flashing a good bit of breast. It might not help, but it couldn’t hurt, either. “What?”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a cell phone. “Use this,” he said, “but make it quick. I’m expecting a call.”

“You’re a doll.” I flashed him a big smile and sauntered over, throwing in plenty of saucy hip action. His gaze slipped down, and though the scent of desire touched the air, a sense of watchfulness remained. Not one to be easily distracted by a wanton woman, obviously.