Page 17 of Arresting the Warlord

“Isn’t it.”

“What’s it gonna be. Me or the ship?”

“The murderer’s getting away or don’t you care?”

“Tick tock. Time’s running out.”

I knew without a doubt, if I didn’t choose him, I’d end up in the brig. “You.”

“Good decision.” Jake bit his arm and held it out. “Drink up.”

I looked at the badly bleeding wound in horror. “That’s gotta hurt.”

“You’re wasting time. Drink.Now.”

With a grimace of distaste, I sucked down some of his warm, coppery blood. Ewww. Gross. My stomach heaved. “I can’t.”

“Suck it up, buttercup. Do you want to bring that asshole to justice or not?”

The image of my seriously injured father flashed across my mind. “I want your word we’re full partners in the hunt.”

“You have it.”

One look at his aura and I knew he was telling the truth. Lowering my mouth to his arm, I sucked and sucked and sucked. Warmth seeped into my stomach and began to spread throughout my body, healing my injuries and easing my pounding headache. The rumors were true. Their blood did have healing qualities.

“Feeling better?” Jake released me.

I backed away from him and wiped the blood off my mouth. “Yes.”

Jake licked his wound and the bleeding stopped. “What’s up with the ash?”

“It protects us from the dead.”

“You actually believe that shit?”

“You’re such a jackass.” I marched toward the outcrop of rock where the sniper had taken his shots.

“Where are you going?” There was an irritated note in Jake’s voice.

“To that rock over there. I’m hoping the sniper left some evidence behind.”

“Why didn’t you say so.” Jake clamped a hand on my shoulder and poof! We appeared at the outcrop.

Six Remington .308 shell casings littered the ground. I smiled grimly. The killer hadn’t cleaned up his brass. Which meant he wasn’t military trained. With any luck, he would think we were both dead. Until his partner didn’t show up.

Jake scanned the area with his warrior’s bracelet. “He’s long gone.”

“He can’t have gotten far. He’s on horseback.”

“Did your shaman magic tell you that?”

I rolled my eyes and pointed to a pile of steaming manure. “No. That did.”

“What a load of shit,” Jake quipped.

I had the flies buzz him.

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Knock it off, buttercup.”

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