Chasing Trouble Read Online Free Page B

on keeping my breathing even and calm. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Two days. Plenty of time.
    "Hello?" Her voice reached me, slow and sluggish. "Who is this?"
    "Lacey? What the hell is going on?"
    "Ellie? Where are you?"
    "Where am I?" I slapped my forehead, glancing over my shoulder as something moved in the alley. "Lacey, what happened? Why haven't you called your mother? The money's gone and she's blaming me."
    "Something went wrong." She sounded distant, her voice tinny. Confused. Maybe afraid. "I don't know where I am. It's dark. Smells wrong. And Cal isn't --" The words broke off, muffled. Static. Then loud banging.
    "Lacey," I said, dread growing in my stomach. It was just a simple con. A quick scam. Easy. Nothing should have gone wrong.
    "Someone else was there," she whispered. "I think they hurt Cal. Please, El -- help me. Please. You have to help --"
    The line cut off.
    I stared at the pay phone, dropped the handset. Turned in a circle to search the night. Lacey. She was really in trouble. My fingers shook as I dialed her number again. Straight to voicemail.
    "Oh no," I said, and I reached out to balance against the phone box. Kept repeating it over and over, because nothing else made sense. I fumbled my cell phone and nearly dropped it, searching the contacts for a number. Cal. Maybe Cal knew what the fuck was going on.
    His phone rang and rang, but eventually a cold voice answered. "What?"
    "Is C-cal there?"
    "Who's asking?"
    "A friend of Lacey's. She's worried about him, can't --"
    "That bitch ." The next words disappeared in a snarl, only getting back to coherent after I cursed at the phone. The speaker's voice dripped derision. "That stupid whore tricked him, and some of her bitch friends jumped him. He's in a coma. He's not getting better, they shot him with something before they broke every bone in his body. So Lacey can go fuck herself, because as soon as we find her, she's dead."
    I opened my mouth, words caught in my throat, but that line went dead, too. I closed my eyes. Cal in a coma, Lacey somewhere dark. And the hyenas and jackals on a collision course to war. A real war. And if their battles spilled into other territory, the rest of the shifters would be drawn in. Humans as collateral damage. It would be a bloodbath.
    I left the phone off the hook as I trudged away, mind spinning and clicking along too slowly to match my feet. My head pounded. I kept shaking it but it didn't help. I took my hair out of the bun, thinking the tension maybe contributed, but I knew it was the mojo and rage and fear that had my vision sparking with floating white dots. Bad sign, that.
    The walk back to the hotel took an eternity. If I told Val what happened, she'd kill me for helping her daughter scam her. Or she might kill me for getting her daughter for-real kidnapped. Or the jackals would kill me for contributing to Cal's beating and coma. Or maybe Benedict Chase would kill me for stealing his wallet.
    My fingers felt numb as I pressed them against my eyes. The streets passed in a blur until I staggered in the rear entrance to the crappy hotel, wanting another shower. A hot shower. Maybe if I cranked the tap all the way, it would approach hot. And sleep. I couldn't think of ways to save Lacey and fix Cal on two hours of sleep over the last three days. It made me sloppy. I hated sloppy.
    The door to my room opened without the key, and I frowned. It was still on the counter in the bathroom where I dropped it. I shook my head and walked in, leaning back against the door after it closed, and froze.
    Benedict Chase, wearing the same suit and looking like a tall bit of delicious, stood near the window. His frown turned thoughtful, then concerned. "Eloise, are you okay? You look a bit -- peaked."
    A laugh escaped before I could bite it back, and my legs gave out. I slid to the floor, still laughing. Damn the luck.

Six
    T he hotel was worse than he imagined, but a little better than Benedict feared. The front