31. Chapter Thirty-One

We sped up to the motel, last in line. Landon went first, his truck barely parked before he was out and running to the main office. Miller jumped out of the large black SUV and followed him, pulling his badge out of his suit. All Miller and Landon had to do was cut the feed, which would only take seconds. Heath and I stopped behind the SUV, our seatbelts off the moment we were in the parking lot. I was able to get out of the truck, running toward Collins as he got out of the SUV.

We already knew the room number, knew it was on the second floor, but we didn't know exactly where it was in the building. We hadn't been able to get those building plans.

Heath was up the steps first. We triple-checked each door, making sure no one accidentally missed it. Miller and Landon came up the other side, running down the catwalk in front of the doors until Miller stopped and pointed. Even from the distance, I could hear loud music playing inside the room.

The others drew their weapons as Landon kicked open the door.

Everyone ran into the room, weapons up. I made it in last, the room feeling crowded. My nose was immediately hit by the stench of people who hadn't showered in days, stale beer, and a variety of fast food. My ears didn't like the music, not the choice but the volume. I used my foot to keep the door open, gun up to fire if it became necessary, as the guys rushed our targets.

I knew their faces. Shocked and paralyzed, I recognized their faces from the time they tried to kill me on the road.

"Hands up! Show us your hands!" Miller roared over the music. "Don't move and show us your hands! Keep them above your head!"

Landon grabbed one by his shirt and snarled, sniffing deeply.

"Stupid to be drinking," he growled.

Miller was right next to him, yanking one of the guy's hands behind his back.

I just stared as Heath and Collins tried to grab the other, who was screaming he didn't do anything. Then he saw me and lunged for something. Heath tackled him onto one of the small beds, holding the human down with ease.

"Didn't do anything?" Heath snarled in his face. "What were you about to do? Huh?"

Sam Blake was quiet now as Heath got off him and hauled him to his feet. Sam's glare was full of hate, but I didn't know why. Why did this human man, who I had never met, hate me enough to do this?

I was so focused on the fight, I hadn't been looking back out the door, covering everyone the proper way a soldier or agent would, so when I heard a gun cock behind me, I knew I was in a bad position.

This guy wasn't going to give me a speech about killing me. I dropped down and threw my head to the side, feeling the hot burn of the silver bullet on that delicate place where my neck and my shoulder met. It was a drop of lava, a searing pain like I had touched a stove—one of those heats that felt cold.

I lost the grip on my gun as I hit the floor and screamed, grabbing the spot where I had been hit. The bullet hadn't stopped when it hit its target. It had found another victim.

Special Agent Collins was down. He hadn't heard what I had and had no idea someone was going to shoot. I didn't know if he was alive or dead in that long span of eternity as I looked at him on the ground.

"MOVE!" Heath screamed.

Looking up, I saw the barrel of the gun. Without thinking, I grabbed it, pushing it away from my face, and heard it go off as I stared in the face of this new threat. I pulled down and brought the human to me, probably breaking something. He fell on top of me, yelling in either shock or pain. Yanking the gun from his hand, I pushed it away while he was trying to get his bearings. Taking a handful of his shirt to hold him in place, I nailed him with a right hook that sent him off me and onto the weird carpet flooring of the motel.

"You bitch!" he snapped.

I didn't give him a chance to say anything else, lunging and holding him on the catwalk with my own brute strength, snarling in his face. He was reaching for something as I hit him again, breaking bones in his face. Something stabbed my leg, drawing forth a feline scream as I let my rage fuel me.

This motherfucker and his friends tried to kill me. I yanked out the silver dagger from my thigh and sent it into the man's shoulder, purposefully not fatal. He howled in pain now. When I reared back, ready to throw another punch, someone grabbed my wrist.

"We need him to talk," Heath said desperately. "You'll kill him, Jacky, and we need him to talk."

I yanked my hand away, but I pulled the punch, hitting the human just hard enough to knock his head on the concrete. He was still yelling as I got off him and used his shirt to haul him to his feet. I left the dagger in him as I spun him to hit a wall.

"Who do you work for?" I demanded. When he didn't answer as fast as I wanted, I grabbed the hilt of the small dagger and twisted, making him scream again.

"Jacky! Get him in a fucking truck!" Heath ordered. "We can't do this here!"

"How's Collins?" I asked, looking into the room. Collins was sitting up, looking dazed as Heath and Miller looked over his injury.

"He'll live. It looks like it went through, but he needs to go to a hospital. We're lucky it didn't hit Landon. Miller—"

"I'll call in the ambulance. You three get them out of here before the local cops arrive," Miller said. "We'll cover for you. Once they see our badges, they usually go about their business. Most local cops don't want anything to do with supernatural problems."

Heath nodded. I didn't stay after that, using the guy's shirt to yank him off the wall, practically dragged him down the stairs to Heath's truck. We only had two pickups and an SUV.

"I have the keys," Landon yelled, pushing his quarry toward the SUV. "Bring that one to me, and I'll tie him."

"Y-You're a c—"

This time, I didn't hit him, just shoved him into the side of the SUV without any sort of grace.

"Who do you work for?" I asked softly as Heath and Landon shoved in the two they had.

"F-Fuck you."

I shoved him at Heath, snarling.

"Take him and keep him from dying."

Heath looked at the dagger where I had stabbed the asshole as Landon rushed to tie the man's hands behind his back.

"He'll be fine. We'll take it out and patch it up at my place. Take my truck. Keys are still in the ignition."

Running to the truck as I heard the ambulances, I pulled out of the parking lot first, with the SUV then Landon's truck following. I didn't know who got that lonely duty with our new friends, but I hoped they were safe.

When we got back to Heath's home, I helped get the new captives inside before we sat them down at the dining table. Landon expertly tied them to the chairs while Heath went into the kitchen and grabbed his knife block. I found the first aid kit. As much as I hated the job, we didn't need anyone dying on us. They had questions to answer.

"Humans don't realize they're not powerful until they run up against a supernatural," Heath said as he slammed the knife block onto his dining table. "If you scream so loud you wake up my daughter, I promise you won't enjoy it."

"Daughter?" one said, looking around in fear.

"Yeah, the one someone shot Jacky in front of," Heath said with a snarling smile. "I'm Alpha Heath Everson. I used to rule the Dallas pack. It's nice to meet you young men. Behind you is my son Landon." Landon gave a vicious growl, making another of the humans jump. "And you all know the woman behind me with the first aid kit. That's Jacky Leon."

"You can't kill us. It's murder," said the one I stabbed, his breathing labored, and his shirt stained in blood, blood still spreading. The fact he wasn't unconscious yet was a testament to his will. "You owe us due process and—"

Heath pulled the dagger out of him, and the scream was ear-piercing.

"Father, you'll wake her up," Landon commented lightly, undisturbed by the noise.

"She's not in her room." Heath put the dagger on the table. "I asked her to sleep in the safe room tonight."

"Ah." Landon nodded slowly. "Good to know." Landon's smile was edging to somewhat insane.

This is the edge people feel. That I feel.

He's willing and able to do violence and enjoy it.

Heath took the first aid kit from me and patched up the shoulder.

"You three have been having a bit of fun in this town," he said, wiping the blood off his hands with a washcloth Landon handed to him when the patch job was done. "You've been trying to kill a dear friend of mine—" He started to gesture to me.

"You can't prove anything!" one of them yelled, struggling in his chair until he fell over. No one moved to pick him up, and the chairs were solid wood.

"You should let me continue," Heath said softly, looking down at the humans. "I'm Heath Everson, and in my world, your lives are already forfeit, but there's something you can do to fix this."

"We'll let you live if you explain why," I clarified. "Although we're not required to. One of you shot an agent of the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs, so you're not in the best position to bargain."

"We just…we…" One of them was more scared than the others. Two were silent, aside from the whimpers, but Sam Blake was about to crack. He was terrified.

"You just what?" Landon growled over his shoulder. "Thought you could kill an innocent woman because you don't like that she gets furry on a full moon? If that's the case, we have the responsibility to protect all supernaturals from humans like you."

Heath stopped his pacing in front of Sam and leaned down.

"And we're more than willing to end a threat," he said softly, calmer than his son.

"He promised," Sam whispered. "He promised. I don't hate supernaturals. He said I could be one—"

"Shut up, Sam! Once those agents get here, we'll get fifteen to twenty-five, then we're out. His lawyers will help us. Don't tell them shit!" The one I had stabbed was pissed at his buddy. I looked at him, crossing my arms.

"What's your name?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. I wanted to kill these guys. They were defenseless, so the feeling made me uncomfortable, but I wanted to gut them open and watch them die. The primal fear and anger I had been walking too close to for nearly two weeks were now dangerously close to the surface. I knew my eyes glowed gold as I glared at this human. Heath and Landon looked at me, and I could see the soft glow of their animal eyes as well, Heath's ice blue and Landon's a golden-brown, which seemed too bright for his face.

"None of your business," he muttered, trying to move his chair farther away from me.

"Let's do this differently then. We've given you three the chance to talk together. Time to talk alone." Heath nodded at Sam, and Landon moved to pick up the prisoner's chair, walking it out of the room. "You two behave while Jacky and I have a chat."

Heath and I followed Landon. I had never done anything like this, but the father-son pair seemed as if they had years of experience with these kinds of talks.

Landon put Sam in Heath's office, then left to watch the two left in the dining room.

When I entered the office, I heard the click as Heath locked us in with this would-be assassin.