Mr. & Mrs. Norcross - Page 11

“You’re not allowed to get hurt, Detective,” he growled.

She pulled back enough to touch his face. “I’m fine.”

His fingers drifted over her cheek, and his gaze darkened. “Someone hit you.”

“And you just threw a knife in his eye, so let’s call it even.”

Vander shot a dark look at the moaning Cray.

Brynn turned his head back to hers. “Hey.”

She loved him—including the darkness inside him. Vander was a warrior, a protector, and that part of him ran deep. Still in his arms, she leaned in and kissed him.

He made a rough sound, then angled his mouth on hers. He hauled her closer, kissing her with an urgency that made her stomach clench tight.

His mouth was hard and demanding, and his tongue dove into her mouth. She kissed him back, her hands tugging on his hair.

Then someone made a harsh sound.

They broke apart.

Ronny stood nearby, his face white. “You took everyone down. Alone.”

Vander’s gaze narrowed. He looked like a raptor who’d just sensed new prey.

“Vander.” Brynn wiggled and he let her down. She turned, keeping her body pressed against her husband’s, holding him back. “I suggest you go outside, Ronny. Wait for the police. You’re going to need to find new employment.”

The man’s head bobbed. “Okay. Um, okay.”

“Run and I’ll hunt you down,” Vander warned.

Ronny squeaked. “I’ll wait outside.” He tripped over his feet as he stumbled away.

“I need to call the station,” she said. “We need to get a team out here and arrest these assholes.”

Then she heard a clanging in the distance.

Against her, Vander tensed.

The sound of dogs barking—wild and excited—got louder.

Oh, hell. At the far end of the warehouse, a pack of dogs entered, and adrenaline punched through her system.

Someone had let fighting dogs loose.

CHAPTER THREE

“Come on.” Vander took Brynn’s hand and broke into a jog.

The sounds of the dogs increased. Barks and excited, eager yips.

Predators on the hunt.

Fuck.

He knew fighting dogs were bred for aggression. Bred to fight and kill. Bred to keep fighting after suffering hours of abuse.

The door was too far away. They wouldn’t make it. He scanned around and then looked up. The warehouse had exposed wooden rafters.