Greyson picked up his gun from the floor as he rushed to Shaw’s side. He nudged him with his foot, but he didn’t move. Then he scanned the area for cameras or any sign of backup.
Nothing. Good.
He holstered his gun and checked for a pulse. Shaw was alive. If Greyson had known today might turn into a hostage situation, he would’ve brought some rope along. He sighed and poked around for something to bind him with. A dusty roll of duct tape sat forgotten on a shelf. Perfect.
After taping Shaw’s wrists and ankles together, he knelt beside him and sucked in a deep breath. In one fluid movement, he hoisted the unconscious man over his shoulder and carried him to the rental.
They must’ve chosen this warehouse for the privacy. The building itself was rusted in spots, the asphalt in the parking lot was pitted with a few deep potholes, but it was fenced, and the other industrial buildings in the area appeared to be abandoned. At least no one would be posting a video of the fight on the internet.
He opened the back door and dropped his bundle in the back seat.
Shaw stirred, letting out a groan. “What the fuck are you?”
Greyson shrugged. “I’d ask you the same, mate.”
Blood dripped from the corner of Shaw’s mouth. His jaw and lip were swelling now, misshaping the side of his face. “What are you talking about?”
Greyson glanced at the warehouse, eager to find Aura, but nothing moved inside. “I know you didn’t see me or hear me.” He focused on Shaw again. “So how did you know I was there?”
“Maybe you’re not as stealth as you think,” he grunted.
Hearing the Scottish brogue brought out Greyson’s accent, too. “Fuck you.” He spat on the ground. “I’ll tell you what I think. You’re some kind of shape-shifter. Am I close? I think you caught my scent, plus there’s no way a human man could’ve flipped me the way you did.” He narrowed his eyes. “The real question is, why are you working for someone who stole a mythical sword?”
Shaw’s eyes were wide before he shook it off. “Shape-shifters don’t exist.”
“I don’t have time for this shit.” Greyson lifted his shirt to show his healed skin. “I can’t be killed, but you’re not so lucky. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you live.”
Aura would probably think this man had a right to a trial, but Greyson wasn’t an agent under the law. He was a pirate, doing his best to protect the woman he…cared about.
Shaw looked up at him with violence in his eyes, but even he couldn’t snap all the layers of duct tape binding his limbs. “There’s more at play here than you realize.” His eyes flickered to the warehouse. “Is she like you?”
Greyson’s heart hammered, but he kept his expression neutral. Aura wasn’t immortal, but he didn’t want to give that away. “Why?”
Shaw met his gaze. “Because it wasn’t a man that stole that sword, and he will kill us all to keep it.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lennox reached for his cell, probably to text Shaw for backup. That was her cue.
Aura drew her Glock, pointing it at the man’s chest. She dropped the accent, her gaze locked on his. “Give me the phone.”
He placed it on top of the desk and pushed it toward her. “Shaw will be here any second.”
She didn’t take her eyes off him. “How do you figure that? You didn’t send the text yet.”
He smirked, no trace of concern on his face. “He’s got great hearing.”
Lennox didn’t know about her text to Greyson. By her estimate, Shaw was probably already in the rent car. “Until he gets here, how about telling me where the Tyrfing is hidden?”
His eyes kept darting to the door. “I don’t know.”
She pulled the slide back on the Glock. Unless he made a move for her, she wouldn’t pull the trigger, but he didn’t know that. “Get up.”
“If the money doesn’t hit that account, I won’t get the location.” He met her eyes, his cocky attitude faltering. “Your partner isn’t really your husband, is he?”
“No. And Shaw’s not coming to your rescue, either.” She kept her sight on the center of his chest. “Now, get up.”
He stood just as Greyson came in behind her. She had to give him credit for keeping his cover as he entered the office. “Hey, Amb. I couldn’t find the…” He noticed her gun and followed the barrel pointing at Lennox. He dropped the Savannahian accent, embracing his full-on badass pirate. “I’m late to the party, I see.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he sized up Lennox. “Shaw seems pretty afraid of the guy pulling yer strings. Has this one told you anything?”
“Not yet.” She narrowed her eyes at the man behind the desk. “Who are you working for?”
A muscle clenched in his cheek. “First tell me if Shaw is…”
“He’s alive,” Greyson answered. “He’s in the back of our car.” He glanced over at her and added, “He’s also a werewolf.”
That was a wrinkle she hadn’t expected. It also explained his comment about Shaw’s hearing. Shifters had heightened senses and strength. She studied Lennox like she might be able to see the wolf inside him. He looked…like a man with a gun pointed at him.
She didn’t know much about shifters, except when they stumbled across any during one of their cases, the protocol was to contact the Defense Department. They handled werewolves. The rumors she’d heard in the halls were that there was a recruiting effort for shifters within the DOD. Whatever they did with them, it had to be related to the military forces.
“I’m guessing you’re a werewolf, too? You and Shaw are in the same pack?”
He hesitated, his gaze flicking from her to Greyson and back again. Finally, he nodded. “We are.”
How did a pack of werewolves steal the Tyrfing out of the vault? It didn’t make any sense. Something about all this didn’t add up. She frowned. “Is Mamon part of your pack?”
“No.” Lennox met her eyes. “Mr. Mamon is a demon.”
A demon who had the Tyrfing sword. Anxiety crept up her spine, digging its claws into her tight shoulders. It had to be a different demon. She could almost feel the sting of Jones’s tongue on her cheek.
She held Lennox in the sights of her Glock, but the weight of the weapon was starting to make her arms ache, and her hands were starting to sweat as the flashbacks of Jones’s glowing eyes assaulted her mind. “How did a wolf pack get tangled up with a demon?”