Chapter Five

 

Erin grumbled and rolled over. He met skin. His eyes flew open and he stared at the naked expanse of bare skin beside him. Chris. The shapeshifting cop who'd blown his mind last night. Erin looked his fill, gaze roaming over smooth flesh and lean muscles. Chris didn't have hair anywhere from the neck down. It was bit odd, but sexy at the same time. Erin figured it was because the man could transform into a bird on a whim.

"You can do more than look, you know."

Erin's gaze shot back up at Chris' face. Chris grinned, dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Bird got your tongue?"

"Something like that," Erin muttered.

"You're not regretting last night, are you?"

Erin blinked. "Are you fucking kidding? How the hell could I regret that?"

Chris shrugged. "Not many people are comfortable having sex with a shapeshifting bird."

"Right, and not many gay men want to have sex with a transman."

Chris chuckled. "Touché."

Someone knocked on the door and Erin sighed. So much for getting his hands back on Chris. He flung off the covers and tugged on a pair of lounge pants. Chris got up just as Erin headed for the front door. The knocking turned to outright banging.

"Fuck, I'm comin'!" Erin unlocked the door and jerked it open. "Can I--"

"I knew I'd find you."

"Chris!"

Angeline launched herself at Erin. They hit the floor and a razor-sharp knife pressed to Erin's throat. Angeline sat on his chest, blood-red eyes wild as they stared down into Erin's. "You're cheating on me," she sobbed. Her hand shook and Erin winced when the blade nicked his skin. Angeline breathed in deep. "You smell like someone else. I thought I was the only one!"

Movement startled Angeline. She snapped her head up and hissed at Chris, sounding more like a possessed cat than a woman. Chris froze in the hallway. Erin didn't dare move. Angeline snarled and pushed the knife against Erin's neck.

"Any closer and no one will have him," she growled.

Chris held up both hands to show he was unarmed. "Let him go, Angeline."

"No!" She leapt to her feet and jerked Erin up with her. One arm locked around Erin's waist like a vise, and the other kept that damn knife at his throat. For such a petite woman, Angeline had a lot more strength than Erin had expected. "Mine," she spat, backing toward the door. "Mine, mine, mine!"

Darkness enveloped them, blocking all else -- including Chris shouting Erin's name.

 

***

 

"Gotta move!"

Jonah and Riley looked up the moment Chris Knight burst into the station. "What?"

Chris doubled over, panting. Jonah had never seen the man so wound up.

"Angeline," Chris gasped out. "She has Erin."

"How?" Riley took two steps and grabbed Chris' shirt collar. He slammed the man against the wall. "How!"

"Riley!" Jonah managed to pry his brother off of Chris. "Chris, what happened?"

Chris didn't look surprised by Riley's outburst. "She came to the door, another knife in hand. She jumped him and threatened to kill him. Goddamn it, I would have gone after them, but I don't know where she took him!"

Lane walked in from Jonah's office. "I do."

"Huh?" Chris stared at Lane. "How?"

"I've had her blood," Lane explained. "Even a trace amount is enough to track her."

"Then do it," Chris said. "Please. I can't--"

"Don't worry," Jonah told him. "We'll find Erin." Jonah glared at Riley.

Riley stepped back and actually seemed a bit cowed. "Sorry about that."

Chris nodded and took a deep breath. "I would have done the same, man. Just... remember you're stronger." He rubbed his chest where Riley's fists had been pressed.

Riley winced. "Good point."

 

***

 

Erin groaned. His stomach hadn't liked whatever Angeline did to get them here. Wherever here was. He looked around, realizing he was on his back. The ceiling was wood and the walls were concrete, and Erin thought he heard water dripping somewhere. When he tried to sit up, chains rattled. He stared down at the shackles on his ankles and wrists. A thin, disgusting blanket separated him from what he realized was a concrete floor. The chains on his wrists were bolted to the wall, and the ankle shackles were attached to the floor. The room had one door -- that was it.

Erin wiggled his right hand, hoping the manacle was loose enough to slip out of, but no such luck. He sighed and ignored the clinking when he rubbed his neck. At least the crazy bitch hadn't cut him. He felt a thin scratch, but no actual cut. Erin thanked God for small favors.

Humming came from outside the door. Erin scooted backward into the nearest corner. The metal door creaked when it opened, and Angeline walked in, carrying a tray.

"Oh, you're awake," she cooed. She set the tray down near Erin. "I brought you some broth and water. I'll have to go get your favorite foods later. This was just so... sudden, you know?"

Erin swallowed. His throat was dry as sandpaper, but no way in fucking hell was he going to eat or drink anything Queen Creepy offered. "Angeline," he said, trying for sweet and charming. "Honey, where are we?"

"At my house," she replied. Her smile came across as innocent and adorable as the typical, next-door mass murderer. "This is going to be so good," she purred.

Erin tamped down the urge to flinch when she caressed his thigh. Even beneath the lounge pants, he felt the icy coldness of her fingers. Angeline smiled again and moved her hand up a little, closer toward his crotch. Fear sparked up Erin's spine. If she realized he didn't have a dick, there was no telling what the hell she'd do. Erin had to think fast.

"Angeline, what's your favorite song of mine?"

She stopped her explorations and sat back, removing her hand from his thigh. "Hmm... I love 'Disciple' and 'Prey to Fear' the most, I think."

Erin nodded. He just had to keep her distracted from touching. "You're my biggest fan." She beamed. Score. "I bet you even have a guitar."

"I do!" she squealed.

"If you go get it, I'll play and sing for you," Erin said. "You're very own concert -- all for you."

Angeline giggled and jumped up. Erin breathed in relief -- however momentary -- when she rushed out the door. He just had to hold on until the guys found him. He didn't doubt in the least that they would. Angeline returned a few minutes later, acoustic in hand. Erin wasn't the least bit surprised to see his own signature on it. The band had given one of his acoustics away in a contest. He'd had no idea who won the thing, but it didn't shock him to discover Angeline with it. He sat up a bit straighter and took the guitar from her. Angeline plopped down onto the dirty floor, cross-legged, and flashed a demented smile at him.

Erin shoved the image of a possessed Kewpie doll out of his mind and tuned the acoustic, chains rattling with every minute movement of his arms. "What would you like to hear first?"