Read Online Lone Wolf Dawn (Alpha Underground Book 2) by Aimee Easterling - Free Book Online
Authors: Aimee Easterling
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tough.
My hand jerked back and I held my breath waiting for a sound, a scent, anything telling me to fling the box aside and run in the opposite direction at top speed. But the box continued to mimic the inert object it had initially appeared. So I took another deep breath and moved on to plan B.
This time, I slowly, gently felt beneath the loosened flap with my fingertips. My own ragged breathing should have been loud in my ears. But instead all sounds seemed distant as I focused every iota of attention I possessed into urging more sensitivity into the pads of my fingers.
Was that a wire that might be triggered by sudden movement or just a thread leftover from the packing tape? I rubbed one calloused thumb across the ridge, wishing for the first time that I wasn’t a werewolf. Because my hands and feet were calloused from spending long hours running four-legged across the earth, so they weren’t as able as I would have liked to pick up on clues within the closed box.
Well, there’s only one way to find out for sure. Holding the offending article out at arm’s length—as if that would make any difference when the thing exploded—I ripped open a single flap.
Which is how I came to be staring down at a Darth Vader bobblehead doll when the police roared up the driveway, sirens blaring. So much for keeping a low profile.
Chapter 8
“Hands in the air!”
“Face on the ground!”
I didn’t think this pair of small-town cops had much experience with dicey situations because I was pretty sure their barked instructions were mutually exclusive. Still, I did my best to obey, not wanting to give either man an excuse to use the guns they were waving about with such disturbingly wild abandon.
Within seconds, my arms were wrenched behind my back and handcuffs pinched my skin as the restraints ratcheted shut. I winced as the mostly healed gunshot wound on my left arm ached at the mistreatment.
Still, I waited until I was fully neutralized before speaking. No need to provoke the one-bodies.
“I wasn’t hurting anybody,” I began, lifting myself up onto my knees so I could look directly into the men’s faces. “I was trying to disable the bomb. Well, it didn’t turn out to be a bomb but...”
Unfortunately, neither was interested in what I had to say. The older cop’s eyes scanned a yard that I could have told him was entirely devoid of human life while the younger cop pushed me back down to the ground with one booted foot between my shoulder blades. Now my arms and wrists weren’t the only parts of my body aching like crazy.
“You have the right to remain silent,” the latter began before I tuned out his recitation of my Miranda rights. Rustling in the background suggested his partner was repeating my own leery perusal of the package, so I waited as patiently as I could until the older cop grunted out: “Harmless.”
“Like I said,” I repeated, speaking into the floorboards. “It’s not a bomb and I have nothing to do with it.”
“Nothing to do with it?” I flew from earth to sky in a matter of moments as the younger officer picked me up by the scruff of my neck and set me on my feet. “So you just decided to ride to the rescue like a knight in shining armor?”
Well, when he put it like that, my actions did sound pretty suspicious. Not to mention stupid.
I opened my mouth to respond, but the older cop was already shaking a piece of paper in front of my nose. “Why did you send this?” he demanded.
By human standards, the officer was well inside my personal-space bubble, the heat from his breath brushing across my cheeks as he glared into my eyes. Of course, shifters were more keen on close confines...with people we liked. I had to force myself not to curl my lips into a lupine snarl and order the one-body to back off.
Still, I could understand the policeman’s concern because I knew exactly which words graced that packing slip. I’d pored over the note half a dozen times already in
My hand jerked back and I held my breath waiting for a sound, a scent, anything telling me to fling the box aside and run in the opposite direction at top speed. But the box continued to mimic the inert object it had initially appeared. So I took another deep breath and moved on to plan B.
This time, I slowly, gently felt beneath the loosened flap with my fingertips. My own ragged breathing should have been loud in my ears. But instead all sounds seemed distant as I focused every iota of attention I possessed into urging more sensitivity into the pads of my fingers.
Was that a wire that might be triggered by sudden movement or just a thread leftover from the packing tape? I rubbed one calloused thumb across the ridge, wishing for the first time that I wasn’t a werewolf. Because my hands and feet were calloused from spending long hours running four-legged across the earth, so they weren’t as able as I would have liked to pick up on clues within the closed box.
Well, there’s only one way to find out for sure. Holding the offending article out at arm’s length—as if that would make any difference when the thing exploded—I ripped open a single flap.
Which is how I came to be staring down at a Darth Vader bobblehead doll when the police roared up the driveway, sirens blaring. So much for keeping a low profile.
Chapter 8
“Hands in the air!”
“Face on the ground!”
I didn’t think this pair of small-town cops had much experience with dicey situations because I was pretty sure their barked instructions were mutually exclusive. Still, I did my best to obey, not wanting to give either man an excuse to use the guns they were waving about with such disturbingly wild abandon.
Within seconds, my arms were wrenched behind my back and handcuffs pinched my skin as the restraints ratcheted shut. I winced as the mostly healed gunshot wound on my left arm ached at the mistreatment.
Still, I waited until I was fully neutralized before speaking. No need to provoke the one-bodies.
“I wasn’t hurting anybody,” I began, lifting myself up onto my knees so I could look directly into the men’s faces. “I was trying to disable the bomb. Well, it didn’t turn out to be a bomb but...”
Unfortunately, neither was interested in what I had to say. The older cop’s eyes scanned a yard that I could have told him was entirely devoid of human life while the younger cop pushed me back down to the ground with one booted foot between my shoulder blades. Now my arms and wrists weren’t the only parts of my body aching like crazy.
“You have the right to remain silent,” the latter began before I tuned out his recitation of my Miranda rights. Rustling in the background suggested his partner was repeating my own leery perusal of the package, so I waited as patiently as I could until the older cop grunted out: “Harmless.”
“Like I said,” I repeated, speaking into the floorboards. “It’s not a bomb and I have nothing to do with it.”
“Nothing to do with it?” I flew from earth to sky in a matter of moments as the younger officer picked me up by the scruff of my neck and set me on my feet. “So you just decided to ride to the rescue like a knight in shining armor?”
Well, when he put it like that, my actions did sound pretty suspicious. Not to mention stupid.
I opened my mouth to respond, but the older cop was already shaking a piece of paper in front of my nose. “Why did you send this?” he demanded.
By human standards, the officer was well inside my personal-space bubble, the heat from his breath brushing across my cheeks as he glared into my eyes. Of course, shifters were more keen on close confines...with people we liked. I had to force myself not to curl my lips into a lupine snarl and order the one-body to back off.
Still, I could understand the policeman’s concern because I knew exactly which words graced that packing slip. I’d pored over the note half a dozen times already in
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