Doing as instructed, Agent Fuller resumed his prowl, while Sloane resumed his grooming of Dex, his heavy tail thumping against the floor. Uh-oh.
“As you can see by Agent Brodie’s movements, he’s fully aware of Agent Fuller. His tail is telling Agent Fuller to be cautious, Agent Daley is his, and he will not take kindly to any aggression toward his partner.”
Dex held up a finger. “Can I just—”
“Please stand, Agent Daley.”
Dex did as asked, and Sloane released a huff at having his grooming session interrupted. This was going to end badly. Dr. Eldridge had no idea what he was about to unleash. Sloane Brodie chewed rookies for breakfast and spit them out. Dex should know.
“Agent Fuller, please advance.”
Dex didn’t bother taking a stance or preparing for a blow that would never land. His fellow rookies looked at him as if he was crazy, but soon they’d understand. Poor Agent Fuller. The guy pulled back a fist and the moment he took a step, Sloane’s roar echoed across the field. Ears flattened, fangs bare, Sloane leapt toward Agent Fuller who screamed like a preteen at a Bieber concert and made tracks across the field, Sloane on his heels looking mighty pissed.
“Thank you, Agent Brodie,” the instructor called out.
Agent Brodie wiped his ass with their instructor’s polite orders and chased Agent Fuller down the length of the grassy pitch. Dex glanced around. “So which of you is a medic?”
A few shaky hands went up.
“Great. Get ready for the next lesson. How to patch up a Human scratching post.”
Dex was about to call his partner when Sloane came to an abrupt halt, standing exceptionally still, his ears perked up. Seconds later, the sirens around the facility went off and Dex jumped to his feet. “What the hell is that?”
Sloane came running, then pushed his head against the back of Dex’s legs to get him moving. Their instructor tapped his earpiece then called out, “Unit Alpha, report in immediately.” Dex didn’t need to be told twice. He took off after Sloane who was nearly at the changing bays. Inside, Sloane ducked behind his assigned curtain, and Dex waited patiently. It would take some time after Sloane shifted back for Dex to administer Postshift Trauma Care, but as much as they both wanted to move quicker, you couldn’t rush nature.
Several grunts, groans, and growls later, and Dex heard his name called. Sloane was especially grumpy postshift. He didn’t like Dex seeing him in such a vulnerable state, but Dex was happy to remind his partner it was his job to provide him the care he needed.
Sloane was perched on the small cot with the towel across his lap, his head in his hands as the dizziness washed over him. Dex was all too familiar with the process. He removed the bottle of Gatorade from the Postshift Trauma Care kit in his backpack and waited a few seconds until Sloane was able to lift his head. His partner was stubborn, but Dex had found a way around it. He gently brushed Sloane’s fallen hair away from his brow, caressing his jaw before tenderly cupping the back of his head.
After a moment of hesitation, Sloane leaned back, and Dex helped him with the Gatorade until every drop was gone. As soon as his partner was done with that, Dex unwrapped a couple of high-carb/high-protein bars and handed them over.
Maybe Dex didn’t want the postshift trauma that came with being a Therian, but what he wouldn’t give to have a Therian’s metabolism. Therians didn’t get cholesterol, nor did they get fat or unhealthy from all the meat they consumed since their bodies depended on the stuff to keep them alive, providing they were remotely active, of course. Therians had crazy high metabolic rates and burned calories by just breathing.
The expression “eaten out of house and home” had been thought up with Therians in mind. His dad could confirm that. Dex had felt for the guy. As if raising two mischievous boys hadn’t been difficult enough, one of them put away enough food you’d think he was storing it away for winter, while the other ate enough to put the butcher’s son through college. Dex would bet his own grocery bills were nothing compared to Sloane’s.
A few minutes later and his partner was on his feet, somewhat wobbly, but okay enough to get dressed with Dex’s help. He gave the waistband of Sloane’s underwear a snap, drawing a playful grin from him. Soon Sloane was dressed in his uniform, looking imposing as always. It would take a hearty meal to get Sloane back up to full speed, but he’d be okay for a few hours.
“Okay, partner?”
Sloane nodded, his voice rougher than usual, as it tended to be after a shift. “Yeah, let’s go. You drive.” Dex nodded somberly, though inside he was pumped and doing a jig. Since Sloane was the senior officer, he always drove the huge black Suburban except during instances such as this.
Making sure his partner was all right, Dex made a quick phone call to Cael on the way to the garage, putting in a request. He climbed in behind the wheel, telling himself he was just being a good partner, but a little voice in the back of his head reminded him he was a shitty liar when it came to those he cared about. The urge to take care of Sloane and fuss over him was growing, and he had to keep a grip on that. If Sloane suspected Dex was getting too close… well, Dex had no idea what he’d do, and he didn’t want to find out.
SLOANE ENTERED his badge number and security code into the Suburban’s console, ignoring the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. His body craved meat, but it would have to wait. The console’s screen lit up blue before patching them into Themis. They tapped their earpieces, and Sloane brought up the location of Destructive Delta’s BearCat. The blue circle with black D’s navigated down FDR Drive. “Sarge, Dex and I are en route. What have we got?”
“We received word there’s an explosive device at the CDC Therian registration office on the corner of Worth Street and Centre Street.”
“Do you think it’s the Order?”
“We don’t know. What we do know is that the call was put in anonymously, giving us one hour, so clearly whoever put in the call had something to do with it.”
“Okay, thanks, Sarge. We should arrive about five minutes after you.” Sloane tapped his earpiece, disconnecting the call. “Dex, take FDR Drive.” He checked his watch. “Traffic permitting, that’ll leave us with just under forty minutes. Haul ass, but don’t get us killed.”
“TMNT Party Wagon?” Dex said hopefully.
“Seriously? You do realize it’s not the eighties. The world has moved on.”
Dex beamed brightly. “I know.”