And yet every instinct I had said something was wrong.

"Stay here," I said, reaching for the door handle.

"Hanna - "

"No arguments, Evin," I cut in. "This is what I do. Lock the doors and keep the engine running. If anyone but me or Harris comes out of that place, run for it."

He was staring at me again. "Only guardians hunt vamps. Werewolves aren't - can't - be guardians."

"They can if they possess special talents or mixed blood. I'm a dhampire, Evin. I can do what vampires do, without the drawbacks." And as a werewolf who not only had vampire skills but who could shift into bird form, I certainly fit both those conditions. Even if I couldn't remember it. I climbed out of the cab. "Keep safe. Don't do anything stupid."

"Like come after you?" He snorted. "Sorry, Hanna, but I didn't willingly sign onto this gig, and I have a pregnant mate to consider. If there's a vamp loose in there, he's all yours."

"Then make sure you stay safe for her."

I closed the door, watched him lock both, then walked around the truck and headed toward the police station. I blinked to switch to infrared and scanned the inside of the building. The body heat of four people shimmered inside, meaning Harris had called in help.

I was barely four steps away from the door when energy brushed across my mind. It was a light, probing touch - inquisitive, and not yet dangerous. My shields were up enough that he couldn't read my thoughts, but I still felt the power surging under the surface of that touch, and it was very strong indeed.

Then I realized what I was doing, what I was feeling. That vamp might be telepathic, but so was I. Obviously, removing the earrings had worked.

As I reached for the door handle, the vamp hit me telepathically, the blow fierce and hard. I froze in my tracks for the barest of seconds, then threw all the energy I had to my shields, clenching my fists as I battled blow after mental blow.

Damn it, I'd had enough of people messing around with my thoughts! This bastard wasn't going to get in.

But he didn't seem to want to quit, either.

Sweat began trickling down my face and, in the pit of my stomach, fear swelled. I had strong shields, and this vamp was pushing me to my limits. What hope did Harris - and whoever else was in there with him - have?

They'd only had nanowires to protect them, and against a telepath this strong the wires were next to useless.

Then his telepathic attack ceased as suddenly as it had began. I took a deep, somewhat trembling breath and pushed the door open. Darkness greeted me, thick and silent. I flared my nostrils, drawing in the scents. Harris didn't seem to be close, but the other wolf stood in the shadows just behind the door.

He was barely even breathing. I reached out telepathically to assess the state of his mind and hit the electronic buzz of the nanowire. I could break past its protection - I'd done it often enough in the past - but it took time and effort, and I didn't want to risk it with another powerful telepath nearby. He might just use my concentration to get underneath my own shields.

I flexed my fingers, took a deep breath, then dove through the doorway, hitting the floor with my back, rolling neatly to my feet and spinning around.

To find the barrel of a gun pointing straight at my head.

Chapter 13

He didn't hesitate, just pulled the trigger.

I dove out of the way, but as fast as I was, it just wasn't enough. The bullet ripped through the fleshy part of my thigh and wedged somewhere inside. Pain welled, thick and hard.

Not because I'd been shot. Because the bullet was silver.

Fuck.

I hit the ground hard, felt rather than saw his movement, and knew he was already aiming again. I shifted position and swept my good leg around with all the force I could muster. The vamp in control of the cop's mind was too focused on shooting me to notice the blow coming, and I hit the young cop's legs just as he pulled the trigger. The shot aimed at my head hit the ceiling instead and the cop's butt hit the floor so hard air exploded from his lungs and the gun went flying. I didn't give him - or the vamp - time to recover, just lunged forward and smashed my fist against his nose and mouth. Which was a dirty thing to do given the young cop wasn't at fault, but with silver burning in my body, I had no time for niceties.

As he fell to the floor, I pulled myself to my feet, hauled him onto his side so he wouldn't choke on his own blood, then grabbed the gun from where it had fallen and half hobbled, half hopped around the reception desk. The door leading to the back rooms was open, and I could see the blood heat of three others. All of them were in the back area, in what looked like separate rooms. Cells, obviously.

But why would Harris be in a cell?

I wiped away the sweat that was threatening to blur my vision and wished I could get rid of the burning in my leg as easily. It was a burning that could end my life if I didn't get the bullet out of my flesh quickly.

None of the people inside the cells was moving. The vamp was obviously alive and well, but I had no idea about the state of the others.

And there was only one way to find out.

I hobbled around the corner, moving with neither speed nor grace. But every sense I had was alert and the gun was steady, despite the trembling weakness beginning to flare up my leg.

The room immediately beyond was small and little more than a waiting area for the main holding cells. The two areas were divided by a barred steel gateway -  which was currently open - and beyond that were four cells. Only one was open.

I hobbled forward. The vamp was in the first cell. I couldn't actually see him from where I was standing, but I could smell and feel him. Not physically but mentally. The wash of power flowed around me like a stream, not aimed at me but at the cop in the other room. He was trying to wake him, trying to make him attack again.

I stopped and peered through the food tray opening. The vamp was sitting on his concrete bed platform and glared my way balefully. He didn't, however, look too concerned.

"Quit the telepathic attacks," I said flatly, "or I'll make you."

"I think I'll take the second option," he said, his expression overconfident, almost jovial. "I can smell your blood and feel your flesh burning, wolf. We both know you won't come into this room right now because you have neither the physical strength nor the speed to beat me. And with the silver in your flesh, you're barely keeping your shields at maximum. All I have to do is wait, and you will be mine."

The bastard was right. Given the fact my leg was already going numb, there was no doubt my shields would weaken as the silver drained more and more of my strength.

But it wasn't like I had no other options and, given the situation, I wasn't afraid to take them. I raised the gun, aimed it through the feeding slot, and shot him.

The bullet smashed through his kneecap, spraying blood and flesh and bits of bone across the grimy white walls. He screamed and clutched at his leg. My second shot took him high in the shoulder, and the caress of energy dropped to nothing.

"Try to control anyone else, and I'll shoot to kill," I said, and slammed the food tray slot closed. It didn't do much to muffle his screams.

I knew how he felt. I very much felt like screaming myself.

I hobbled on, all but dragging my right leg. Blood was pouring from the wound, but it was the burning - and the numbness that was spreading like tentacles across my flesh - that was the biggest concern.

A quick look in the next cell told me it contained the pilot. He was lying on the concrete bed, but his eyes were open and his expression was an odd mix of defiance and fear.

The third cell held Harris. He was also lying on the bed, but his eyes were closed and the side of his face was battered and bloody.

"Harris?" I said. "You okay?"

He didn't respond, and his breathing was shallow and rapid.

"Harris," I repeated, louder this time. "Wake up."

He jumped, then groaned and somewhat groggily scrubbed a hand across his bruised and beaten features before turning his head toward the door. "What?" he said, the word coming out a little slurred.

"Where are the keys for the cell?"

He blinked rather owlishly. Concussion, I thought. "Why do you want that?"

"Because you're stuck inside of one."

"I am?"

He sat up abruptly, but the movement was too sudden, and he vomited without warning. It splattered across the concrete floor, making me suddenly glad I wasn't standing inside. The smell was bad enough from out here.

I waited impatiently, watching the blood trickle down his cheek, feeling it pour down my leg. My jeans were saturated, and blood was beginning to drip onto the tiled floor.

"Harris, you need to concentrate. Where are the keys?"

"There are none." His words, though still slurred, seemed a little stronger.

"What?" I glanced down at the door and noticed for the first time it had two methods of locking. One was the traditional key lock, the other electronic.

"What's the combination?"

"Four oh eight one. Is the vamp neutralized?"

"For the moment, yes." I pressed the code in and an alarm sounded as the little light flicked from red to green. I twisted the handle and pulled the door open. "Why didn't he attack you rather than Benny?"

"Because I'm mind-blind, and Benny's not." He pushed to his feet and stood there, wobbling for a bit. "How is Benny?

"I'm afraid I busted his nose and probably some teeth." I paused for breath. Damn, my chest felt like it was getting heavier. Fear swelled but I pushed it down. I would not die. Not like this. "He shot me with silver and I really didn't have the time for finesse."

He glanced at me sharply and I saw his gaze widen fractionally. "We'd better call you a doctor."

"Call them if you want, but I can't wait for them to arrive. I'm extremely sensitive to silver, and my leg is already numb. We need to get this bullet out now."

"Fuck." He scrubbed a hand across his face, then walked - a little unsteadily - forward. "There's a first aid kit in the reception area. We'll need that."

He wrapped an arm around my waist and half guided, half carried me back down the corridor - though I wasn't entirely sure who was supporting whom.

His nostrils flared as he passed the vamp's cell. "I smell blood."

"As I said, I didn't have the time for finesse." I shrugged, and the movement sent pain rippling. "A vamp with two bullet wounds isn't going to be capable of attacking anyone telepathically for a while."

Harris grunted. It wasn't a happy-sounding grunt, but he didn't actually say anything. Maybe even he could see that tough situations called for tough measures.

Even if they were against police rules.

But then, I wasn't police. I was Directorate. The damn vamp was lucky he wasn't dead. I might not want to kill, but all bets were off when the bastards attacked me.

We went through the barred gateway. He paused, briefly releasing me to close the door and punch in a code, then we staggered forward again. Harris guided me through the door then around to the left, behind the reception desk. Benny was where I'd left him.

"How did you manage to get locked in the cell?" I said, as Harris kicked out a chair then dropped me into it.

"I had no idea the vamp was even awake until Benny attacked me. It was lucky that I saw him move at the last moment, because the wrench smashed down the side of my face instead of the top of my skull." He retrieved a large first aid kit from underneath the desk and opened it up. "I saw stars, but I had enough sense left to kick his feet out from underneath him and run for the cells."

I grabbed my wounded leg with both hands and hauled it up onto another chair. The damn thing felt like so much dead flesh and, deep in my stomach, the fear of losing the use of my limb gnawed. But I guess I was lucky it was my leg rather than my shoulder. I'd been shot far too many times in that region now, as the numbness and sensitivity in my fingertips indicated. I might have died instantly, rather than merely suffering.

Harris pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, then grabbed a pair of needle-fine scissors. "Why didn't he simply punch in the code and open the door?"

"Because I have an override locking code that no one else knows. I used it on both the vamp's cell and my own."

He began slicing away the material from the wound. Despite the fact he was being careful, the sharp point of the scissors dug into my flesh several times. Luckily, I felt the movement, not the pain. My flesh was too numb to feel anything right now.

"How did you lock the door from the inside the cell?" The keypad was nowhere near the food tray opening, and unless he was Mr. Elastic, there was no way known he would have been able to reach it.

"There's a time delay on it. You have one minute to close the door before it locks." He dropped the scissors on the chair next to my foot then reached for the long tweezers. His gaze met mine. "This will probably burn like a bitch."

"The wound is numb, so it won't really matter." But my fingers tightened reflexively around the arms of the chair.

"Numb?" His expression deepened to worry. "That happened fast."

"As I said, I'm extremely sensitive."

He grunted and carefully pressed open the sides of the wound with his free hand. Blood poured out over his fingertips and started dripping on the floor. Thanks to the numbness it didn't actually hurt, but something inside of me trembled anyway.

"I can't see a goddamn thing through the blood," he muttered.

He carefully pressed the tweezers into the wound anyway, driving them down into my flesh.

"You're going to have to tell me when I hit the bullet."