She shot upward, dodged an amazingly fast swinging fist from Fancy Pants, and slid back through the window. The window was a good two feet above my head so I couldn’t see what was going on outside. I did, however, hear a low growl that could have been Sarge in his werewolf form. My hopes surged again.
Maybe this was a breakout?
As soon as the words passed through my mind, I knew that was the case. This was a damn breakout! Giddiness flowed over me, washing away the fatigue as I danced on the spot with the sudden urge to pee. I locked my knees tight together and focused on my Kegels for a second to get control of my bladder.
“Kinkly!” I whisper-yelled her name, and she peeked back through the bars and down at me.
“What?”
“I’m going to need my bag and all the stuff they’ve got in the evidence room,” I said.
She bobbed her head. “We have someone on it! We got you, Bree.”
Warmth fluttered through my belly and spread outward. My friends were amazing. How in the world had I ever made it through life without them?
Then she dragged a container through the bars that I recognized on sight. “Boy butter? Do you think I’m going to smear it on me and squeeze through the bars on the window? They are way too close together!”
Fancy Pants groaned and stumbled away to the far side of the room. “I’m going over here to lie down because I did not just see a big ass bug drag expensive lube through that window.”
“I do not have a big ass,” grumped Kinkly. “I have a pert, tiny ass.”
I kept my eyes on her, not wanting to be distracted. “Seriously, how are we making this happen?” Had they emptied out the lube and replaced it with a magic potion that would make me smaller, maybe even Kinkly’s size? I could slide through the bars, and we’d be gone before anyone noticed. That’s what I would have tried, anyway.
Apparently my ragtag crew of friends weren’t so much into subtlety.
Kinkly unscrewed the lid of the Boy Butter jar, slid on the tiniest pair of gloves, then reached in and scooped out the thick paste, smearing it up and down the bars in a move that would make a stripper envious of her skills. Of course, she had to throw in a few body rolls up and down, just to add to the image.
I grabbed the edge of the window and with a jump and a serious strain on my shoulder and back muscles, pulled myself up for a better look, thinking I was missing something. Okay, so I ended up barely getting my nose above the edge, but it was enough. “Kink, what are you doing? Even with lube I won’t squeeze through.”
Alan stepped up to the window and shot me a look. “She’s right. Even though she lost some weight, she’s still no skinny mini. Kind of thick in the middle if you know what I mean.”
My hand snaked out and I grabbed his ear, something I seemed to have a knack for with the ghosts. “I may not have a bag to stuff you in, but I’m sure I could cram you into my boot.”
He swatted at me ineffectively, but I let him go.
Kinkly kept on smearing the bars. “Don’t worry. Corb and Sarge came up with this idea. They think it’s the best chance we’ve got, and I agree with them.”
I squinted my eyes. “What about Suzy and Eric? Did they think it was a good idea?”
“Oh, no.” Kinkly grinned at me. “Corb said he ran it by them, and they thought it was a terrible plan. So Corb told them to get lost, and they did. You know the bigfoot though. He’s not terribly brave, even if he is loyal and smart.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed with her assessment, but then I suspected that Kinkly might have finally realized that Eric had been more than a little interested in her. She’d shot him down, thinking it was a joke, and . . .well, he had moved on with Suzy. Kinkly had the whole “I don’t really want him, but I don’t want you to have him” vibe going on.
I sighed. Later. I could help them with their love lives later, but only if I was still alive and free of this cell. Gawd help me, I’d tackle any weird love life right then if it meant I was getting out.
Kinkly pulled off her gloves and laid them at the base of one of the bars. “You’re going to want to step back for this next part.”
I didn’t move. Maybe my brain didn’t quite process what she’d said, or maybe I just couldn’t imagine that Corb would pull off a stunt so big. A breakout so epic in style there was no way I’d not be missed.
A faint sizzle curled through the air and then came the sulfur smell of a freshly lit match.
“Oh, you better get down,” Edna said in my ear. She pushed me, which was impressive, her being a ghost and all, more so that it was hard enough to knock me to the ground a split second before the world exploded in a shower of stone, mortar, and bits of steel bars.
The roar that ripped through the air made my ears ring and my chest feel like it had been kicked by a donkey. Hot flecks of something or other from the explosion landed on my back, and I yelped and rolled to either side to fling it off, only I wasn’t sure if I made a sound or not since my ears were dead. I started to get to my hands and knees, dust and smoke filling the air, obscuring the world.
Maybe I could have stood on my own—it’s hard to say—but I didn’t get a chance to try. A mouth full of teeth appeared out of the smoke and clamped down on the chain connecting my handcuffs. The werewolf attached to those teeth took off running, dragging me over the lip of the destroyed outer wall with a quick jump and then bouncing me along the rubble of what was left of it.
I looked back to see Fancy Pants and the other gals escaping, taking advantage of the situation as they scrambled over the debris and out to the freedom of the back lawn of the police station. Edna saluted me. “Get that piece of fae ass. Trust me, you won’t regret it!”
I couldn’t respond, mostly because the air was being repeatedly knocked out of me with each bump of my butt or hip hitting the ground. Expulsions of air escaped my mouth as if I were the one running.
“Dying. Slow. Stop. Please!” I yelped, even though I knew he was rescuing me.
Sarge bounded along, and all I could think was that I was going to covered in bruises by the end of this little jaunt, but better that than dead. A minute or two later he slowed to a stop next to a black van that looked suspiciously like one of the council vans I’d seen Corb and Davin use in the past.
The side door was open, and two men in black hooded robes pulled me in. Sarge followed with a leap and proceeded to swipe his long, pink and panting tongue up the side of my face. The hooded figures started shutting the door, and Kinkly shot in through the rapidly shrinking opening. A third figure in the driver’s seat got us moving with a lurch that threw me against Sarge’s black-furred body.
“Dog breath,” I said and then gave Sarge a hug around the neck. “Thanks. I think. I’m going to need a hot bath to work out the bruises.”
He gave a woof and winked a big golden eye at me, then lay down in the back of the van at my feet. I turned to the two robed figures in the back.
“Who do I have to thank for saving me, besides Kinkly and Sarge?” I lifted a hand, and Kinkly high-fived me.
“That went better than I thought it would,” she said.
Corb threw back his hood first. “In case the police saw us, we needed to make sure we couldn’t be identified.” He reached over and pulled me into a tight hug, and I just breathed in his cologne and the ocean scent flowing beneath it, his magic a distant tingle that soothed away some of my fear. “You okay?”