CALHOUN
I quickly call Jude.
“Get the car ready at the back. Something came up,” I say sharply.
“Okay, sir. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I can hear movement in the background. He is probably still putting on his jacket, gathering whatever he thinks he needs before leaving.
Fifteen minutes.
Whatever this is, we don't have fifteen minutes.
“Make that three and your time starts now.”
There is a brief silence.
“Yes, sir.”
The line disconnects.
I slip one arm beneath Valerie's knees and the other around her waist, lifting her effortlessly into my arms, her body feels wrong, very limp and warm.
The faint scent coming from her breath makes my jaw tighten.
Silver.
The bastards mixed silver into her drink, not enough to kill a human outright, but enough to wreak havoc on a shift
