Page 6 of Arresting the Warlord

Uncle Jesse hooked up the Mustang and the tow boom lifted the front tires off the pavement.

“There are a bunch of laser weapons in the back. I need you to tow the Mustang to the station first.”

Uncle Jesse saluted me and drove off.

I was a bit surprised to see the Jackass upright in the backseat. A snicker escaped me. His knees were crammed under his chin. “Try anything funny and I’ll hit you with my freeze ray again.” I buckled up.

“Yes, ma’am.” The words were full of venom.

The poor baby wasn’t used to having his ass handed to him. I put the car in gear and glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Gotta admit I’m shocked you haven’t contacted your buddies at Central Command to come rescue you.”

“I’m a warlord. I don’t need rescuing.”

“Okey-dokey.” Thewarlorddidn’t say another word until we reached the police station and he noticed four big Navajo officers waiting by the rear door.

“Backup?” He sneered.

“I’m a shaman and I don’t need help controlling you.” I parked my patrol car.

“Never underestimate a warlord.”

I shot back, “You underestimated a shaman and it landed you in jail.” I got out and opened the back door. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. What’s it gonna be?”

The Jackass’s eyes burned with the promise of retaliation as he got out of the car.

Power roiled across the parking lot. “The easy way.”

Oh hell. This couldn’t be good. General Saul Jones, the commander of Central Command’s western sector and Zarek’s liaison on Earth, stood next to my father.

Even in his seventies, my father was a powerful man, but General Jones was downright scary. The General had the eyes of a predator and wore his thick gray hair in a military cut. Instead of a spiffy uniform he had on black Coletti battle armor and literally bristled with weapons.

“Take his cuffs off, CeeCee,” my father commanded.

“But…”

“Do it.”

The fact that my father was wearing his ceremonial black velveteen shirt, silver concho belt and shaman turquoise jewelry gave me pause. Something was seriously wrong. “Yes, sir.” I unlocked his cuffs and stepped back.

The Jackass rubbed his wrists. “She’s psychic. They’ve been lying to us for years.”

“I’m a police officer who also happens to be a shaman, and the wuss hates the fact that a woman kicked his ass.”

“You didn’t beat me.”The Jackass moved toward me.

General Jones stepped in front of him. “Stand down, soldier.” He turned to me. “What are his charges?”

“Criminal speeding, fleeing a law enforcement officer, no valid driver’s license or current vehicle registration, assaulting a police officer, and possessing prohibited weapons. Last but not least, making terrorist threats,” I added for good measure.

The General cocked a dark brow. “Are those charges true, Jake?”

“Mostly.” Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “But does it look like I assaulted her?”

“You tried,” I inserted.

My father slid into my mind.“Enough CeeCee. Provoking the warlord will not help the situation.”

“What situation?”

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