Marked By Magic by Christa Wick
Chapter Sixteen
"Nice one!"Joelle squeed, holding the door to the medical supply store open for Michelle and Tanner.
After discreetly noting two-inch diameter hydraulic slide bolts inside the heavy metal door and the reinforced receptacle plate in the brick wall, Tanner signaled for the she-wolf to stay posted near the entrance. He then scanned the area for a direct line to another exit, but the sales floor was roughly thirty feet deep. He couldn't spot anything other than the swinging double doors that led to the employees-only area.
In total, the sales floor covered approximately twenty-five hundred square feet. The aisles were wide, but the tall shelving belonged in a warehouse instead of a store open to the public. And there weren't any carts to facilitate shopping.
Reading his mind, Michelle gave him a soft nudge.
"We're not here to browse," she said with her softest voice.
Tanner nodded, but he couldn't shake how the place felt like it was locked down.
A burly male somewhere in his early thirties greeted them from his position on the other side of a long, tall counter. To the man's left was a lower counter area and a cash register. To his right, a closed half door gave him access to the sales floor.
The guy's gaze barely landed on Tanner before jumping and sticking to Michelle.
"I'm Frank," he said, his voice tight and his smile both shallow and phony. "How can I help you folks?"
Joelle left her spot by the door, her gaze bright and her nose faintly twitching.
Suppressing the urge to push his energy at Joelle with a question of what was wrong, Tanner took a slow, deep breath. Among shifters, females had the more sensitive nose and usually made the best scent trackers. With the damage he had suffered at Harrow Mills, Tanner would need a snout full of air to match just one of Joelle's delicate sniffs.
Taking another deep breath, he detected the presence of dried blood a few days old and smothered with bleach. The odor wasn't in the shop area. It seemed to come from beyond the double doors that led to the stockroom.
"I have a list," Michelle said, oblivious to the possible danger as she approached the counter with a slip of paper held forward.
Tanner forced his wolf down when the guy took the sheet. As Frank's fingers grazed Michelle's, a visible shiver crossed his face and his pupils dilated.
"Preppers, huh?" he asked, cheeks heating as he scanned the items. "I've got all this, but it's a lot. And the boss won't let me leave anyone out front alone while I go in the back."
Tanner slid in front of Michelle, edging her behind him as Joelle protectively crowded the latent from behind.
"We'll wait on the sidewalk," he told the man. "You can lock the front door, bring the items out here, and not break your boss's rule."
"Or all of you could come in the back and help me," Frank countered. "It'll get the job done faster and I can give you a ten percent discount. I mean, if you're moving stock like employees, you might as well get the same percent off, yeah?"
An almost imperceptible slide of feet across a concrete floor pricked Tanner's ears. There was definitely more than one body lurking behind the double doors.
"We have to be back at three," Joelle said, inventing a timeline on the fly to let Tanner know she had detected the scent of at least three other individuals in the building.
"All the more reason for you to help," Frank persisted.
Tanner shook his head. From the feel of it, his group had stumbled into a Hunter enclave or something almost as dangerous.
It made sense, in a way. Quentin's private army needed the same basic supplies as any military unit required. Regular bulk purchases would arouse suspicion. It was the same for ammo and weapons, he knew. Why go through the subterfuge of visiting multiple stores or sending multiple guys in for small purchases each when you could buy a shop in the town close to your base of operations and maybe turn a profit on it.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Joelle said, her tone deceptively bored as she pulled out her phone, then tapped at the screen. "I'll just—"
"Don't do that!" Frank swatted across the counter at the phone as fresh sweat beaded across his cheeks and forehead.
Joelle whipped her body backward, a snarl vibrating in her chest as her grip on the phone tightened. Tanner moved directly in front of the women, his arms protectively out as he herded them backward toward the exit.
His plan to retreat evaporated at the sound of the security bolts on the front door slamming into place. He instinctively reached for the gun he kept tucked against the small of his back—then remembered that the mission's orders had limited him to nothing more than a boot carry outside of the vehicles to avoid attention.
Hearing Joelle softly swear, he pictured her making the same motion and coming up just as empty-handed.
"Holy fuck!" Frank bellowed as he came from around the counter. "These fuckers rolled up here unarmed!"
At Frank's announcement, the double doors to the store room burst open. Two males in dirty jeans and T-shirts emerged, each one holding a 12-gauge double-barrel pump shotgun capable of firing up to sixteen rounds. Tanner knew it was a nasty, effective killing weapon. One pump loaded both barrels. The first pull on the trigger released the round in the right barrel, the second pull released the left.
Beyond their matching weapons, the men looked related, each with dark hair styled in a crew cut. Wearing stained blue jeans and with nearly identical facial features, it was mostly their T-shirts that set them apart.
The man on Tanner's left wore a shirt showing an arrow piercing a battered, diseased cartoon cat and a caption split between the top and bottom that read, "The Only Good Pussy Is Dead Pussy."
His near twin had on a black band T-shirt sporting a caricature of four hooded executioners grasping everything from a pint of beer to an axe to a spiked metal ball on a chain. The man also had a dead eye—or maybe a glass one. Either way, the thing was stationary, the other eye darting around between Tanner and the two women.
"He's protective about the long-haired bitch," Frank said, jabbing a finger at Michelle. "She ain't a wolf."
The tips of both shotguns swung in Michelle's direction—then swung again as Joelle capitalized on the men's mistake, hit the floor, and rolled out of view.
Easing to stand in front of Michelle, Tanner heard the slide of Joelle's gun leaving its boot holster.
"Don't hide on us, bitch!" Frank shouted.
Praying that Michelle remembered the hand signals he'd taught her, Tanner motioned for her to get down low. A small measure of relief bubbled inside his chest at her compliance until Frank pulled out a snub-nosed revolver with a two-inch barrel length and a bobbed hammer, introducing another direction from which Tanner would need to shield his mate.
"How do you know they're unarmed?" Glass Eye asked.
"Fuckers tried to pull leather on me. The little bitch had nothing and grandpa's only gun is the limp dick down his pants!" Frank slobbered. "Damn amateur hour!"
Dead Cat Guy motioned at his companion, the common combat signals directing the man to go down one of the aisles to get a drop on Joelle from behind. Still holding his hand out of view, Tanner signaled the she-wolf to watch her six.
"Listen, Bitch," Dead Cat Guy shouted. "Stop hiding, and I'll take it easy on you. Dope you up so high you won't feel a thing I do to you."
Frank laughed, his free hand dropping down to squeeze at his crotch, his eyes briefly rolling back in pleasure. "I'll make sure you hurt!"
"And that tasty morsel sheltering behind you, old man. She needs to stand her ass up right now," Dead Cat Guy ordered. "You hear me, darling? I'm gonna blow a load of buckshot straight through grandpa if you don't show your face. Got that?"
Michelle raised her left arm, exposing her location. When she spoke, her voice was a squeaky rattle.
"I'm standing up now," she told the men from where she crouched behind Tanner. "Take it easy, okay? Don't shoot us. We can work something out."
She sounded terrified, but her voice was still a light, uplifting magic for Tanner—until he thought about her dying at the hands of these worthless men.
As Michelle slowly went through the motions of straightening, she braced against Tanner. With the way she could walk around inside his head, she knew just where to reach for the pistol strapped to his leg and knew the exact moment to press it into the hand he had eased behind his back.
Dive left!Tanner shouted internally, his fist tightening around the 9mm. He swung the weapon up, barking at Joelle at the same time.
"Burn their asses up, little girl!"
