Witch Wolf (Chaelisa)

Chapter 1-2

"I need a gun that leaves a good-sized hole in a body." I emphasize the size of the hole I wanted by making a fist

Bam stared at me for several moments and then burst into laughter. "What in the world would you need a gun like that for?"

I tapped my foot impatiently against the tiled floor. "Is asking that sort of question part of your job description?"

"No, but it makes a man curious."

If ever there was a weapon—Bam was your guy. We'd met when I was still on the force. He'd been working with us as a bounty hunter. It wasn't until I got to know him that I found out he used to be some type of professional assassin. Technically, even after the years that I'd known him his past was shady. So, to anyone else, he was a bounty hunter, a weapons genius, and the guy I got my guns from.

I looked up at him and widened my brown eyes pleadingly. Bam wasn't built like a bounty hunter; in fact, he looked more like a computer geek with the dark-rimmed glasses. It amused me, because he didn't even need them. I'd know. He'd hunted with me enough times that I knew he could shoot yards away without them and still take his target down. It was just another part of his cover. He thought it made him seem more approachable. I thought it made him more like a target for bullying.

"Lis, don't bat your big brown eyes at me," he said and crossed his arms over his chest. "I know how gay you are."

"Aww, shucks," I said. "Come on, Bam, give me a good gun. The firestorm isn't going to protect me from angry paranorms, and you know it."

"Being a werewolf doesn't automatically count as having an arsenal at your disposal?"

I frowned, but was glad he had kept his voice down. That was another thing my colleagues didn't know or need to know. After a bad accident three years ago I found out I was turning furry once a month. Oh, the joys of living.

A growl fell from my lips that sounded more animal than human. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Bam, don't bait me."

The smirk he gave me was sarcastic. "Why not? It's so damn easy."

"Because I can still kick your ass from here to Nevada."

"That hasn't been proven."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of air. "Will you just find me a gun?"

"Fine, what kind are you thinking?"

"I already told you I need a larger caliber than the .380."

"Sawed-off shotgun?"

I stared at him in disbelief. "You've actually got one of those?"

"I've got a few of them. They're loud, obnoxious, and will definitely discourage any would be super-beastie."

"They're also highly illegal. Even with my concealed weapons license I couldn't pack that much firepower."

He shrugged. "You wanted something that would leave a fist-sized hole. The sawed-off shotgun would do the trick."

"It would also land my ass in jail," I retorted. "Let's think of something, um, well, legal for a start."

Bam leaned over the glass counter looking thoughtful. I stared at the guns in the case below him.

"Think you've got enough Smith and Wesson guns?" I asked.

"They sell fast," he said. "There's a few guns in there that aren't Smith and Wesson. The Glock, for one."

The Glock doesn't look bad, but I'm not fond of plastic and it's too big for my hands. It's also what every cop is carrying."

I heard more than saw the grin spread across his face. "Lis, you're not on the force anymore. I don't think you have to worry about that."