Master of Wolves Read Online Free PDF Page A

opened his mouth, but she’d hit her limit for stupid. “Bzzzz! Wrong answer, dude. You’re going to jail. Do not pass go, we’ll collect your two hundred dollars in the morning.”
    Then, for the first time that night, he surprised her. “Don’t take me to the city jail. I’m begging you.” His hazel eyes went wide with panicked pleading. “Take me to the county jail.”
    â€œCruise, I’m a city cop. You’re going to the city jail. That’s the way it works.”
    â€œNo!” Whirling around, he hit her square in the face.
    Stunned, Faith reeled back, wiping at the blood that had splattered into her eyes from her busted lip. Cruise took off running, Rambo in furious, barking pursuit. The little rat didn’t get far. Before Faith could even shake off the sucker punch, the dog caught the hem of his jeans and braced his forelegs. Cruise fell flat on his face.
    â€œOh, you’re going to regret that!” Ignoring her swollen lip, Faith ran over and pounced. Just as she straddled his butt and grabbed his wrist, Cruise went wild. One swinging elbow caught her in the cheek. Pain detonated in the side of her face.
    â€œOkay, that does it!” Faith snatched her Asp baton from her belt and telescoped it to full length with a flick of her wrist. She was seriously tempted to clock him in the skull with it, but head shots were a no-no. Instead, she tried to hook one skinny arm so she could lever his wrist into position for handcuffs.
    Cruise twisted onto his side, grabbed her arm, and threw her onto her back. Face twisted in fear and desperation, he reared over her, fist drawn back.
    This time he wasn’t fast enough. Faith blocked the shot with the Asp and popped him in the nose with her left fist. His head snapped back with the force of the blow.
    Damn, she thought with a snarling grin, that felt good.
    Cruise yowled and started to scramble off her. Before he could make it all the way to his feet, Rambo reared up and smashed into his shoulders, knocking him sideways. The shepherd pounced, flattening him on the pavement.
    Thoroughly pinned under the dog’s weight, there wasn’t much he could do when Rambo planted both big forepaws on the side of his head. With a happy growl of satisfaction, ’Bo thumped his butt down on the man’s shoulder.
    The suspect could only yowl. “Get him off me!”
    â€œNothing doing, jerk.” Faith rammed a knee in the small of Cruise’s spine, snatched her handcuffs from the pouch at her waist, and snapped them onto his flailing left hand. She used the cuff to drag it into position behind his back. “Give me your other hand!”
    â€œAhh! Lady, get your dog off me!”
    â€œThat’s what you get for being a dumbass—a German shepherd sitting on your face. Give me your hand!”
    â€œDon’t take me to the city jail! I don’t want to get my soul sucked out!”
    Fighting to control his squirming, she panted, “What the hell are you talking about, you lunatic? Are you high?”
    â€œPlease!”
    â€œIf you don’t give me your hand, you’re going to the hospital, because I’m going to let Rambo eat your head !”
    Right on cue, the dog began doing his Cujo imitation, barking until saliva flew. Cruise yowled even louder. “Ahhh! Get him off, get him off!”
    â€œGive me your hand, or I swear to God, I’ll tell Rambo you’re a Scooby snack.”
    â€œAll right, all right!” He thrust his right hand down, and she snapped on the cuffs. “Just don’t let him eat me!”
    Fighting her laughter, she looked at Rambo, who stood with both paws mashing down on Cruise’s face. She’d never seen a dog look more thoroughly smug. “Get off the man’s head, ’Bo. What are you, a hat?”
    Â 
    An hour later, she was considerably less amused as she stalked over to the police car where Cruise sat waiting.