Harmony's Way (16 page)

Lance merely grunted in response. And she just hated it when he did that.

As Harmony opened her mouth to blast him, Dispatch called in with a domestic disturbance. At once Lance stilled, going icy with fury as he answered the call.

“What is it?” She could feel the anger coursing around him.

“Tommy Mason.” He bit the name out. “The last time we were called to the house, he had nearly beaten his wife to death. She swore he hadn’t touched her. He’s managed to get around every fucking family violence law on the books.”

Harmony breathed in slowly.

“Maybe I’m the wrong one to take on this call,” she finally said. “I don’t do well in these situations, Lance.”

Things like this were what had gotten her into her present situation. The injustice of the monsters of the world literally getting away with torture and murder. Seeing the shell-shocked eyes of young victims, or the broken, lifeless bodies of young women. Justice didn’t always make the rabid animals of the world pay for their crimes.

“Then you better start.” He accelerated the Raider as he pulled out of the bar’s parking lot, flipped on the sirens and headed toward the outskirts of town.

“Sheriff, we have shots fired,” Dispatch reported as Lance made a quick turn. “Mason fired at the State Police as they pulled in. We now have a hostage situation.”

Lance’s muttered curse had the hair at the back of her neck standing on end as the Raider careened around a curve and the flashing lights of the State Police cruisers came in sight.

“Stay in the Raider,” he ordered her quietly. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Like hell,” she informed him coolly.

“Look, Harmony, Mason’s wife has a kid. He’s turned this into a hostage situation, and if he’s drinking, he’s going to be unpredictable.”

“You made the decision to bring me here.” If there was a child involved, there wasn’t a chance in hell she was staying in the Raider.

“And I was wrong,” he said quietly, his gaze suddenly softening, turning regretful. “I won’t risk you like this. Stay in the Raider.”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff, I won’t embarrass you.” Her smile, she hoped, was reassuring. She couldn’t prick at him when he was doing something so totally unexpected. Hell, he almost made her feel warm without his touch. “You take care of your end and I’ll take care of mine.”

The Raider pulled to a stop behind the State Police cruisers. Harmony followed as Lance exited the vehicle, bending to keep low as they moved to the commander.

“He started firing as soon as we pulled in, Lance.” His badge tagged him as Commander Steven Noonan.

Several inches shorter than Lance, he was stooped next to the opened door of his car as he stared back at the house.

“He has her in the front bedroom. Every time we try to move in, he fires. He’s threatening to kill the woman.”

“Is Jaime in there?” Lance asked.

“He hasn’t mentioned the kid, but the neighbors say the boy was home.” The commander grimaced. “We haven’t seen a sign of him though.”

With Lance’s attention distracted by the commander, Harmony slid slowly back beside the cruiser, heading for the shadowy ditch that ran along the front of the house. Watching the house in full view of the armed man wasn’t the wisest course of action as far as she was concerned, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to help that kid and his mother.

Harmony had a much better idea, and she wasn’t stupid enough to ask for permission.

Keeping low, as she reached the back of the cruiser she slid along the ground, intending to crawl to the ditch that began just on the other side of the vehicle.

“Stop!” A strong hand latched around her ankle.

Rolling to her back, she stared at Lance. “I can get them free without anyone dying. I swear it.” She stared back at him calmly. “Why risk lives? You know I can do it, Lance.”

“And if the kid is dead?” he growled, keeping his voice low despite the fury throbbing in it. “What will you do then, Harmony?”

She knew what he was asking. If she killed, Jonas would have her. Especially in this situation.

She inhaled sharply. “Then the bastard will live. For now,” she snapped back. “Unless or until your fine justice system decides he might not be guilty. Then we may have to rethink the matter.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m fast and I’m quiet. He’ll never see me coming. He’s a two-bit wife beater, Lance. Not a Coyote on the hunt. I can take him.”

A shot fired from inside and the sound of a woman’s cry had him flinching. Slowly, he released her ankle. Reaching into the small utility bag at the side of his belt, he pulled free a set of personal comm links that fit over the ear, the small mic extending out to lie on the cheek.

“Use this.” He handed one to her as he fit the other over his ear. “If I have to use a body bag tonight, I won’t be happy, Harmony,” he informed her quietly, the sound of his voice coming through the link as she fitted it in place and allowed the wire-thin mic to curve over her cheek.

“No body bags,” she promised with a smile, before blowing him a quick kiss.

Rolling to her stomach, she pushed herself into the drainage ditch and began scuttling toward the deeper shadows several feet past the house.

The black material of her uniform blended in with the darkness, giving her the additional camouflage needed when she crawled out of the ditch and into the weeds and brush that grew at the edge of the property.

Keeping to her stomach in the long shadows, she crawled over the rough grass and rock-strewn yard, keeping her eyes on the window that gave a view into that side of the house.

“I’m moving in along the side of the house,” she whispered into the mic as she finally moved against the outside of the building. Coming to her feet, she flattened herself against the siding. “Is there a back door?”

“It leads into the kitchen,” Lance answered. “There’s a short hallway that then leads to the living room and, beside it, the bedroom where he’s holding her.”

“I’m on it. Beginning radio silence.” She flipped the mic up, leaving only the receiver active as she made her way to the back of the house.

Passing the back door, she moved instead to the window at the far end of the house. It was securely locked, but the small metal lock was easily turned when she slid her knife beneath the frame and began prying upward.

Within minutes she was sliding the window open and moving into the house. She could hear him now. His voice was slurred, enraged as he cursed from the front bedroom.

“Harmony, one of the neighbors who came up has reported that Mason keeps a knife on him. A switchblade.” Lance spoke in her ear. “He’s a mean gutter fighter, so be careful.”

So the bad boy liked to play with knives. Well, so did she.

She slid the window closed before looking around carefully. She had come into the boy’s room; his scent was all over it. There were few toys, only a small bed and dresser, a few scattered shirts. Inhaling at the bleakness that attested to what his life must be like, she moved toward the doorway, listening to Tommy Mason scream at his wife.

“You stupid whore. I warned you what would happen if you tried to leave. Didn’t I warn you?”

She could hear a woman sobbing, but she couldn’t hear the child.

She found the little boy in the living room, huddled into a corner, his hands covering his ears as he rocked himself back and forward. Tears marred his dirt-streaked face and his eyes were clenched closed.

Moving in close, she simultaneously laid her hand over his lips and crooned a soft “Easy, sweetie” at his ear.

His eyes flared open.

“Shhh,” she whispered again, her touch gentle as she ran it quickly over his fragile, shaking body. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head no, but his eyes were wild, frantic as his mother cried out his name from the other room.

“I have to yell if anyone comes,” his voice trembled as he fought to speak. “He’ll hurt her again. I have to scream.”

She set her fingers against his lips.

“Trust me.”

He shook his head desperately, tears pouring from wild blue eyes as his body jerked with silent sobs.

“Have you ever seen a Breed?”

He almost stilled, his eyes widening. Most children were fascinated by the subject of Breeds. They wrote letters to the Sanctuary, and a few times, Harmony knew, Tanner Reynolds, the Breed liaison, had enchanted children at several schools. They were the newest version of superheroes to the little minds.

Lifting her lip, she showed him the canines, a bit small perhaps, but definitely impressive. He blinked back at her in shock.

“I bet if you stay very, very quiet, I can make sure your momma is fine. And I’ll make sure he never comes back. Can you be quiet for just a few more minutes and give me the chance?”

A silent sob rattled his little body. He was obviously malnourished, terrified. “Very good,” she crooned at his ear once again. “Now be very, very quiet. Okay?”

He nodded desperately.

Harmony flipped the mic down, activating the link.

“The child is safe. To your left as you enter, huddled into the corner. I’m going for the mother.”

“Easy, Harmony,” Lance warned, his voice worried. “Keep the link active.”

She flipped it up. The wire was a distraction she didn’t need.

Pressing her finger to her lips as she gave the boy one last look, she moved back to the doorway. She waited until she was certain the boy wouldn’t see her before she slid the K-bar from the sheath at her side and moved back to the hallway. The bedroom door was open, the room lit by the flashing lights from the cruisers outside.

“Sons of bitches. They had no right interfering in my business.” The sound of a hand meeting flesh was followed by a woman’s broken cry. “This is all your fault, you whiny-assed bitch.”

Moving on her stomach, Harmony began to inch her way through the entrance, staying low and silent as Tommy Mason screamed at his wife. Her feet had cleared the doorway when the wide, hulky excuse of a man pulled a switchblade from his pants and flipped it open.

He gripped his wife’s long hair in one hand and lifted the knife with the other. And Harmony knew her time had run out. Rolling quickly, she came to her feet, her knife slicing through the hair he gripped as she slung the woman to the floor.

“What the hell?” He surged back, his gaze first surprised, then narrowing with fury on Harmony. “You’re one dead whore.”

Harmony sighed dramatically. “So I’ve heard.”

He had to come out of the house alive, she reminded herself as she rammed the flat of her hand against his nose, pulling back just in time to temper her blow. As he flew backward, she caught his wrist, wrenched the knife from his grip then twisted until he fell to his knees. A hard knee to the small of his back and he was on the floor as she snapped the restraints around his wrists.

“It’s like this, asshole,” she hissed at his ear. “You’re under arrest.”

Then she gripped his hair, pulled his head back and slammed it into the floor. The first time, he managed to groan and buck furiously. The second time he slumped beneath her, his large body going boneless.

It was almost too easy. The adrenaline surging through her body hadn’t been given the fight it needed. It pulsed and hammered through her veins as an icy burn began to build beneath her flesh.

Jumping from the fallen man’s back, she shook her hands then rubbed at her thighs. Geez. What the hell was up with this?

“Harmony, dammit, answer me,” Lance snapped into the link as she realized she had been hearing his voice for several seconds.

She inhaled slowly, her gaze going around the room before finding the wary form of the young woman stumbling through the door.

“Harmony… Now, dammit.” His voice was rough, and sent lust coursing through her.

Flipping the mic down, she crooned into the link. “I have a present for you, baby. Want to come collect?”

Yep, it was lust.

CHAPTER 13

The moment her voice crooned over the comm link, Lance felt the response surge through his body. His cock was already painfully erect, but the sexy tone of her voice had it jerking in his jeans, impossibly harder and ready to fuck.

Damn her. She picked a hell of a time to turn into a sex kitten.

“Okay, Steven, let’s move in. She has him.”

He was aware of Steven’s quick, surprised look as they headed into the house, with the paramedics coming in behind them.

Lance waved them to the corner where the mother, Liza, was cradling her young son. She was bloody, beaten, but appeared conscious.

Moving quickly, he and the two State Police officers moved into the bedroom, guns drawn, before pulling up to a quick stop.

Tommy Mason was spewing vulgarity as Harmony sat on her haunches listening to him, her head tilted, a mocking smile on her face as she ran her thumb slowly down the edge of her blade.

“You think you’re so smart,” Mason spat. “You freak. You’re nothing but a nasty damned animal and you’ll get yours.”

Harmony lifted her head to Lance. “He’s just full of information,” she drawled. “All kinds of supremacist rhetoric. You have some fine folks in your fair town, Sheriff Jacobs.”

She moved aside as the officers gripped Mason’s arms and picked him up from the floor. Harmony slid the knife deftly into its sheath and stared back at him expectantly.

“I’m hungry,” she stated. “Didn’t I see a fast-food joint earlier? Think we could detour before we have to take care of all that nasty paperwork?”

He watched her closely. Her eyes were unnaturally bright, her voice huskier than normal.

“Are you okay?” He moved to her, his gaze going over her carefully. “Did he manage to cut you?”

She gave an unladylike snort. “Please.” She waved the question away. “He was such an amateur. People should learn how to use knives before attempting to play with them.” She reached behind her and pulled the switchblade, encased in an evidence bag, from her belt. “Here you go. I didn’t even get any of my nasty little paw prints on it.”

He took the bag carefully, allowing his fingers to brush hers, feeling the unnatural cold of her fingertips.

“Let’s go get those statements taken care of,” he said and sighed. “Steven and his men will take care of Mason.”