Free Chaos Bites by Lori Handeland Page A

little.”
    “Whaddya talking about?”
    “They knew what we were,” Luther said slowly. “So they brought a silver bullet and kava-kava for me, golden chains for you. But they didn’t know what Faith could do.”
    “Which means,” I continued, following his train of thought, “that they aren’t after her because of Sawyer.”
    Silence settled between us as we continued to work things out.
    “Maybe,” Luther murmured, “they’re after her because of her mother.”
    “Whoever the hell that is. But why send humans? That’s like sending a guppy after a shark.”
    “They kicked our ass.”
    “Your idea of an ass kicking and mine are radically different,” I said.
    “We’re broken, bloody, and shot. They’re not.”
    “We’re alive.”
    “So are they.” Luther set the bullet on the dresser. “They could have killed us if they wanted to.”
    “Not me.”
    Luther cast a quick, wary glance into the mirror on the wall. The only people on this earth who knew how to kill a skinwalker were skinwalkers, and they were understandably closemouthed on the subject.
    “They knew how to put us down quick and easy without killing us.” Luther’s forehead creased.
    “I wonder who told them.”
    “I wonder how long it’ll take me to find them and kill them.” I frowned, and Luther’s hands tightened into fists. “We can’t leave those guys out there. They know too much.”
    Behind his bravado lay fear. Breeds were hard to kill, but they weren’t indestructible. This was the first time Luther’d had that truth shoved in his face. Poor kid.
    “We have other things to do first,” I said, trying to distract him.
    “You don’t need me.”
    I made the sound of a game-show buzzer as I pushed an imaginary button in the air. “Wrong answer. Would you like to try again, Mr. Vincent?”
    “Liz, it makes sense for me to follow, beat the name of their contact out of them, and—”
    “What?” I interrupted. “Kill four men? That smells like murder to me, Luther.”
    “But they’re—”
    “People.”
    “Assholes,” he muttered.
    “If we killed every asshole in the world we’d have no time left for the Nephilim.”
    His lips twitched, but he sobered almost instantly. “They’re killers. You can’t tell me we were their first job. They were too good at it.”
    “We aren’t the police.” I held up a hand to forestall any argument. “We aren’t vigilantes, either. We were given our powers to kill Nephilim, plain and simple.”
    Luther hung his head. His hair fell across his face, and his shoulder bones stuck through his T-shirt, making him appear impossibly young. Guilt flickered again. He did not belong here.
    “What if they come back?” he whispered.
    He’d really been scared. Tied down with no way to access what made him stronger, he’d been helpless, which had no doubt brought back memories of other times he’d been helpless and those stronger than him had taken horrible advantage.
    Many breeds did not come into their magic until later in life, and Luther had been one of them. Because of this, his childhood had been a lot like Jimmy’s and mine, two others who’d been late bloomers.
    “Hey.” I touched Luther’s arm, got a quick flash of things I didn’t want to see, and drew away.
    Besides the fear, Luther had been embarrassed. Taken by surprise, he hadn’t protected the baby or me. That embarrassment was fueling him now, making him angry and vengeful.
    If those guys came back anytime soon, they were toast.
    While the thought of their deaths was appealing—they’d planned on shooting a baby, for crying out loud—death was too easy, and I didn’t want Luther involved.
    “If they come back, I’ll deal with it,” I said. “They’ll wish they hadn’t.”
    He studied my face. “But I—”
    “Will stay out of it. I mean that, Luther. Humans are not in your job description.”
    “But they’re in yours?”
    My gaze rested on Faith. “They are now.”
    We decided to catch a few