CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Moving aside, Alex urged them out, grimacing at the plumes of smoke that rose from the hatch. “I called the pride; they’re already on their way.”

Coughing, Mila grimaced at the bodies splayed on the ground. Humans, her senses told her. Her brother had dispatched of them quickly and coldly. “Any more extremists?”

Alex nodded. “Some are covering the entrance, and some are sitting in a huge fucking van in the lot. They’ll come this way as soon as they realize you all got out. Although everyone’s coughing and hacking, they hopefully won’t hear you over the sound of the fire roaring and the alarm blaring. Be careful,” he added as more people climbed out, their faces stained with soot and tears. “There are snipers on the roof at the front of the building.”

“We’re on it.” A tall male muttered something to his friends, who then promptly shifted, shrugging off their clothes as they flew. Eagle shifters.

As Mila and Dominic helped the other patrons out, Ally, Dante, and the Phoenix Alphas apprised the escapees of the situation, urging them not to run off.

“I figure the snipers are there to shoot any firefighters who try to help—it’s something they’ve done in the past,” said Mila.

Dominic nodded. “With any luck, the eagles will kill every single one of the fuckers. Can you let people out of the side exit, Alex?”

“It’s best not to,” replied the wolverine. “Everything that happens in the alley echoes, so the extremists will hear if shifters start filing out of that exit. The humans will then go after them, guns blazing—literally. It’ll work better if everyone just comes out the back way.”

He had a good point, so they continued to quietly help the other patrons out. Ally took aside any who were burned or otherwise injured, and soon other healers joined her efforts.

A loud cry from high on one of the rooftops made everyone freeze, and a deep voice up there boomed, “They’re out!”

“Think there was any chance the extremists on the other side of the building didn’t hear that?” asked Taryn.

There was a roar of fury, followed by footsteps thundering down the alleyway.

“Well, that answers my question,” said Taryn. “You and Dominic make sure everyone gets out,” she told Mila.

Almost as one, Alex, Taryn, Trey, Dante, and most of the escaped patrons shifted. Their animals didn’t hesitate to attack the humans who came rushing around the corner, armed to the teeth. Machine guns peppered bullets everywhere. Grenades were slung. The snipers who were still alive picked off the shifters that tried to run or retaliate.

Bodies of shifters toppled to the ground—some changed into their human forms as they did so. That didn’t stop the others from charging. There were so many animal noises it sounded like a zoo gone wild. Roars, shrieks, growls, caws, snarls.

A blast of fire split the air, and Mila hissed. A fucking flamethrower. The humans hadn’t just brought guns. They had spiked bats, machetes, maces, and belts that were wrapped in barbed wire. Oh, she itched to kick the humans’ goddamn asses.

Sirens wailed in the distance, and Mila’s head snapped up. “Finally.” The sirens came closer and closer and closer. Tires screeched to a stop in the lot. That was when she heard more gunfire followed by distant voices crying out in pain.

Ally growled. “Fuck, the snipers are shooting the firefighters!” Her eyes snapped to the hatch as Derren and Eli climbed out. “Where the fuck have you been?” she yelled at her mate.

Coughing, Derren shut the hatch. “That’s everyone out.”

“Good, because being a spectator sucks,” said Mila as she and Dominic stripped, intending to join the fight. The extremists had begun to back up, so a great deal of the battle was now taking place in the alley.

Eli froze. “What’s that sound?”

Mila smiled at the familiar roar-growl. “That, my friend, is the sound of a pissed-off wolverine shifter.” Her mother. “And she no doubt has my pride with her.” They’d attack the extremists from another angle, effectively boxing the humans in. Some of the pride would also hopefully help put the fire out.

Clasping her nape, Dominic kissed her. “Be careful.”

“Same to you,” said Mila. Then they shifted.

The cat leaped over fallen bodies and sidestepped puddles of blood as she charged into battle. Ears flat, her snarling mate rushed at a human who was swinging a mace. Scrambling up the back of her wolf, the cat lunged at the human. She wrapped her body around his face and sank her teeth and claws into his scalp. Scratched at his flesh. Raked an eyeball. Enjoyed his cries of pain.

The wolf took advantage and barreled into the human. Knocked him onto his back and sliced open his stomach, exposing the man’s guts. The cat approved of the bloodthirsty move.

Gunfire cracked the air, and a blazing heat singed the side of her leg. The cat hissed, furious. She went to retaliate, but a bear reared up on its hind legs and slammed its paw at the offending human’s head. There was a distinct crack.

Satisfied, the cat turned back to her mate. Adrenaline pumping through them, the wolf and the cat worked as a team as they took down one human after another. They bit, slashed, clawed, and mauled. Ducked, dodged, and weaved away from what came at them.

Soon, the whooshing of the fire hoses joined the animal sounds and human cries. Her pride had to be putting out the fire.

Around them, other shifters attacked the humans—disemboweling, ripping out throats, tearing off limbs, crushing bones, severing spinal cords, clamping jaws around throats to suffocate opponents.

The extremists didn’t surrender. Brutal and cunning, they lashed out with their weapons. Even when they abandoned their guns, they kept fighting, sending many shifters tumbling to the ground, defeated and near dead.

The cat’s thick hide and fur acted as good protection, but not good enough. She was soon covered in slices, welts, and other injuries. Blood matted her fur. She was tiring. Slowing from loss of blood. Every part of her body seemed to hurt. But she fought on.

Just as she and her mate finished off another human, the cat turned to seek a new target. A wooden bat crashed into her side, its spikes stabbed into her flank, and she was knocked sideways. Red-hot pain assailed her, and the breath left her lungs in a whoosh. Shelving the burn, she righted herself, winded.

The spiked bat hit her again, tearing into her neck. She hissed at the blinding pain. Swayed but didn’t fall.

The wolf pitched forward and clamped his jaws around the human’s leg. The man lifted his bat, and the feline’s heart jolted. She knew he would bring the bat down hard on her mate’s head.

The cat sprang. Covered the human’s face. Found purchase with teeth and claws. Raked and bit.

The human toppled backward, and the wolf instantly lunged at his mate’s attacker. Sunk his teeth into the man’s throat and tore it out with a vicious yank.

Lungs burning, heart pounding, the wolf backed away from the corpse and took a moment to glance around. The ground was littered with bodies—some human, some shifter; some dead, some close to death. There were many still standing, and most were shifters.

He noticed his Alpha male and Beta male savagely mauling a human in a wild frenzy. Pallas cats were crawling all over the humans, tearing into them with claws and teeth. A wolverine bit savagely into the shoulder of a fallen screaming human while a margay cat raked at the human’s chest. Another wolverine had clamped his jaws around the flamethrower, mangling it with his bone-cracking teeth.

Hearing a whoosh of air, the wolf turned and saw a machete heading for him. He ducked, but it sliced off the tip of his ear. The wolf yelped at the harsh burn of the blade.

The cat readied to leap at her mate’s attacker, but a mace slammed into her head, dazing her. She shook her head, cleared the dots from her vision, and sprang with a vicious snarl. The human tried to bat her away, but she was too fast. Went right for his face.

A hand gripped the scruff of her neck as she bit into his scalp. Shaking his head, he desperately tried to pull her away. She dug her claws harder into his face. Refused to let go.

Having delivered the killing bite to his attacker, the wolf turned to his mate. She was clinging to a human who was punching her head. Growling in fury, the wolf crashed into the human. Knocked him flat. Clawed through skin and muscle, scraped bone and—

Something stabbed deep into the wolf’s flank. Something sharp and cold. It happened again and again. Yelping, he sliced at the human’s stomach, gutting him. The stabbing stopped.

The wolf collapsed, his sides heaving, pain pulsing through him. He tried to pull himself to his feet. Failed. Ribbons of agony rippled through him. The shock of it was so strong, he involuntarily shifted.

Dominic lay there panting, his vision blurring. He slapped a hand to the vicious stab wounds on his side, knew they were deep. Blood was pumping out of them, pooling on the ground beneath him.

Sleep lured him, but he fought it like a bitch. He needed to stay with his cat, who was butting him gently, as if urging him to rise. He weakly stroked her head. “I’m okay.”

Surging to the surface, Mila forced her cat to retreat so she could examine Dominic. The blood drained from her face as she saw how bad his wounds were, and a hellish dread wrapped around her chest like a tight band. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Her hands trembling, she pressed them over the wounds, helping him put pressure on them. He cursed with a flinch, and Mila winced. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” But she pressed harder, swallowing hard as his warm blood trickled through his fingers and hers. “Ally! Helena! Sam! Taryn! Someone!” she yelled over her shoulder.

Mila caught sight of Taryn lying pale and weak against her mate—not dead but drained from healing others. Glancing around, Mila found Ally. The she-wolf was busy healing Tate while Luke gave him CPR. Sam was nowhere to be seen. And Helena, where the fuck was Helena? Mila couldn’t see her anywhere. The smoke hazing the air certainly wasn’t helping.

Coughing, Mila looked back at her mate. “Someone will come over soon to help you. We just have to wait a minute.”

Dominic blinked up at her, his lips parted, his eyes stinging from the smoke. Fuck, his side hurt. What hurt more was seeing the fear on her face and feeling it echo through him. No, fear wasn’t a strong enough word. It was a soul-deep, all-consuming terror. Cupping her face, he breezed his thumb over her cheekbone. “I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know.” But Mila didn’t know. Not really. He looked far from okay. He was just so pale. Seemed so tired. And an odd sort of glaze was falling over his eyes.

Her cat never fretted about anything, but right then, her heart was beating as frantically as Mila’s was. The feline truly feared for him. And it wouldn’t take much to send her ape-shit.

Aware of how exposed and vulnerable he was while lying there bleeding profusely, Mila shifted her body over his a little, shielding him as best she could. The move wrenched at her wounds, making her wince. They throbbed and burned, but she ignored them.

There weren’t many extremists still on their feet at this point. Those still standing were being tag-teamed by shifters. But her protective instincts pricked at her to guard and defend her mate while he was unable to do the job himself. And he clearly didn’t like that she was putting herself at risk, because he snarled. At her.

“Move,” Dominic ordered through his teeth.

“No.”

He tried to lift himself up, and pain rolled over him in what seemed like never-ending waves that made his stomach churn. He almost gagged. “Fuck.”

“Stop moving!” she chastised, too anxious to sound gentle right then. Blue eyes swirling with pain fluttered shut, and her heart jumped. “No. Open your eyes, GQ, look at me.” He did, but she felt no relief because she could hear how lazy and erratic his heartbeat was becoming.

She glanced over her shoulder again. “Need a healer over here!” But Taryn was still out of it, and Ally was now working on her own mate. Sam was healing Luke, who looked in a bad state. And Helena . . . seriously, where the hell was that woman?

Mila turned back to Dominic, whose eyes had drifted shut again. “No, you have to look at me,” she ordered, her pulse spiking with panic. “Eyes open, come on.” His lids weakly fluttered open, and she touched her mouth to his. “You have to stay with me.”

Dominic double-blinked, as if fighting the need to sleep. “Not leaving you.”

Hot tears burned Mila’s eyes. “No, you’re not.” But she was terribly afraid that wasn’t true. His breathing was so shallow, and his pulse just kept on slowing. Worse, putting pressure on the stab wounds wasn’t helping. Each time his chest rose and fell, more blood seeped out.

“Just keep looking at me, GQ, okay? Keep looking at me.”

He coughed, and a little blood splattered onto his lips and chin.

The fear encasing her heart swelled and filled her chest to bursting. Fuck. “Someone will come. They’ll heal you.”

She heard an agonized cry of pain—something that came from the gut. And she saw Joel flat on his back with an extremist hovering over him, a jagged blade in his hand. They were close. So close. She could help. And a very small part of her that was purely base instinct urged her to save Joel. But the rest of her rebelled against it, because it would mean moving her hands from Dominic’s wounds. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that.

Instead, she called out, “Vinnie! Help Joel!”

Busy gnawing on a fallen human’s face, the Alpha cat whirled around and barreled into Joel’s attacker. Thank fuck for—

Mila stilled as Dominic went limp beneath her. Her heart slamming against her ribs, she shook him. “Hey, wake up.” He didn’t. “No, no, no, no.” Her chest went so tight with fear, she was surprised she could breathe. “No, GQ, you can’t sleep, you have to look at me. Seriously, you have to look at me. Right at me.” But he just didn’t. Worse, his sluggish heartbeat stuttered yet again. “FUCK!”

Footsteps rushed her way and a hand landed on her shoulder. Mila knew that scent.

She glared at the healer. “Helena, you’d better do something. If you let him die, I’ll slit your damn throat.”

“I’ll help him, baby, I will,” said Helena, unfazed by Mila’s threat. “You just keep your hands where they are, because he’s in a bad way.”

Like Mila didn’t already know that. She kept pressure on his wounds, feeling an echo of Helena’s healing energy buzz through him. With hope flickering in her stomach, Mila listened as his pulse quickened and his heartbeat steadied. Watched as his many, many wounds began to close over. Felt the bleeding beneath her hands come to a stop.

Mila reluctantly moved her shaking hands just as his eyelids opened. She bit back a sob of sheer relief and gave Helena a nod of thanks—it was all she could manage while emotion clogged her throat. The healer gave her a gentle smile, and then a brief spurt of Helena’s healing energy jolted through Mila and caused her wounds to knit partially together.

“Too tired to heal you both fully, I’m afraid,” Helena apologized before weakly standing. “Have to help the others.”

Dominic slowly sat upright, chest squeezing at the unshed tears in his mate’s eyes. “Come here, baby.” He pulled her onto his lap and held her tight while his wolf strained against Dominic’s skin so that he could rub up against her. Greedily sucking in her scent, Dominic kissed her hair. “You okay?”

“Been better,” she choked out. Her throat thick, she let out a shuddering breath. “Don’t ever put me through that again.”

“Right back at ya.” Gently rocking her from side to side, Dominic looked around. Although the air was hazy with smoke, he could see that they weren’t the only people taking a moment to give or take comfort. Many were cuddling or, like Adele and Joel, were helping to clean each other’s wounds. Trey was forcing Taryn to sip water, berating her for overexerting herself. Sadly, there were also some people who were holding limp bodies, their faces creased with grief.

The battle was officially over, and the ground was covered with bodies, bullet shells, weapons, and puddles of blood. Although thick plumes of dark smoke still wafted from the building, it also looked as though the fire was no longer out of control.

“Hey,” said Dante as he came toward them, a bunch of clothes in his hands. “Got your stuff. You two all right?”

“Yeah.” Dominic took the clothes gratefully. “The rest of the pack?”

Dante’s brows lowered as his expression turned grim. “They’re fine, but there were a lot of casualties on both sides of the fight. Luckily, none were from the Mercury Pack or Mila’s pride. Ryan came about an inch from death, though, so Makenna’s gonna give him hell.”

Dominic and Mila quickly dressed, wincing as each movement pulled at their barely healed wounds.

“Given how well armed they were,” began Dante, “I think the extremists figured that some of us would get out, but not all. They were counting on smoke inhalation to do most of the job for them. If we weren’t shifters and tougher than humans, it might have.”

Taking in the sight of the charred building, Mila swallowed hard. “Harley must be devastated.” The place had been special to Mila, but it had meant so much more to the margay shifter.

“She is,” confirmed a new voice as a powerful figure approached. Nick. “But we’ll fix it up,” the Mercury Alpha added, a grim twist to his mouth. “It’ll take time, but we won’t let the extremists shut us down.”

Mila gave him a weak smile. “Still, I’m sorry this happened.”

“The extremists did this because they’re assholes—you and Dominic were just the excuse.”

Lightly squeezing her shoulder, Dominic tugged her closer. “Tell us what you need,” he said to Nick.

“There’s really nothing for you to do,” replied the Alpha. “The fire’s almost out. The survivors have been, at the very least, partially healed. And we’re not moving the dead bodies. The police will soon be called, because I want them to see exactly how much damage and suffering the extremists caused. Those firefighters were human, which means the police can’t and won’t ignore this.”

Nick’s gaze slid to Mila. “I told Vinnie to take your pride and go. Humans don’t know your kind exists, and it’s best that it stays that way. We’ll deal with the police.”

Sidling up to Dominic, Luke cleared his throat. “Before I leave . . . I thought you might want to know that there was a guy hiding in a swanky car in the parking lot.”

Dominic stilled, and his wolf’s ears perked up. “Was there now?”

“Yep. My pride noticed him when we first arrived. I slung him in the back of Dad’s van; a few of the pride are keeping watch over him.” Luke pursed his lips. “Now, I’ve never seen Emmet Pierson in person, but I’ve seen his picture. I’ll bet good money that guy in the van is him.”

“Really?” Dominic drawled.

“Yeah. I figured, since this shit was all about getting at you and Mila, that you both should have the honor of dealing with him.”

Dominic nodded his thanks at Luke. “I got this.”

“We’ve got this,” corrected Mila.

Since Dominic had no wish to part from her for even a little while, he didn’t ask her to remain behind. Instead, with his mate at his side, he stalked down the alley toward the parking lot.

Mila pointed at a navy-blue van. “That’s Vinnie’s.”

Reaching the vehicle, Dominic pulled open the rear double doors. And yes, there was Emmet Pierson. His wolf peeled back his upper lip.

The human was huddled against the wall, trying to keep his distance from the hissing, snarling pallas cats. The felines seemed to be toying with him by pitching forward and swiping out with their claws, ripping his clothes but not drawing blood.

His eyes widened at the sight of Dominic, who fisted Emmet’s shirt, dragged him out of the van, and slung him on the ground. The pallas cats hopped out of the vehicle and surrounded them, growling at the human, but they didn’t pounce on him.

As he stared down at Emmet in utter contempt, Dominic felt a roiling heat low in his stomach. So many people had died tonight. Even more of them were injured, including Mila. Hell, he’d almost died himself from those goddamn stab wounds. And why? Because that bastard on the ground had sicced the extremists on them to do his dirty work.

Mila cocked her head as she spoke to Dominic. “My guess is he stayed in his car, hoping no one would notice him. And when the tide turned against the extremists, he was too scared to move in case one of the shifters saw him and took his ass down.”

Dominic gave a slow nod. “He probably would have tried to drive off at some point if the cats hadn’t gotten to him before he had the chance.”

Eyes flashing with fear, Pierson still managed to look haughty and indignant. He looked at Mila, taking in all the streaks of dried blood on her face, neck, and arms—it was more than obvious she’d been covered in wounds not so long ago. “Are you really even human?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant sight. “No, I’m not. Fooled ya, though, didn’t I?”

Dominic took an aggressive step toward Emmet. “You sent them here. The extremists. You told them to go after the club.”

Bracing himself on his elbows, Pierson edged back a little. “It’s a hot spot for shifters—the extremists would have targeted it eventually.”

“And thanks to you, they did it sooner rather than later. But it wasn’t about the club, was it?” Dominic clipped. “It was about taking my mate from me. You found out she was working here, you suspected she’d come back, and you just bided your time. You made sure the extremists were prepared to make their move when you were ready for them to.”

“Rosemary is your mate,” Emmet bit out. “Deny it all you want, but you know it’s true. She’s yours, and you abandoned her. And now she’s in a fucking coma. Did you really think I’d let you go on and live a happy life with another woman? Did you really think I wouldn’t do whatever it took to make you suffer as Rosemary suffered? I warned your Alpha that I’d make a bad enemy.”

“You also make a stupid one. You shouldn’t have come here tonight. If you had any sense, you’d have left this to the extremists. But you just had to be here, didn’t you? Had to listen to the cries of pain and howls of mourning, had to watch the bodies fall.” Sick fuck. He was soon to be a dead sick fuck. Dominic sliced out his claws and advanced on him.

Emmet jumped, his eyes widening. “The police—”

“Can’t save you from me. No one can.” It was ridiculous that he’d think differently.

Emmet edged back fast, still on his elbows. “You’ll never get away with—”

“Yes, I will.”

A pallas cat bit into Pierson’s foot, making him flinch with a sharp cry and—better still—come to a stop.

Swallowing hard, Emmet stared up at Dominic. “You’d really kill an unarmed man?”

“Yes.” Bending over, Dominic thrust his claws into Emmet’s chest, closing them around his heart. “You tried to take my heart from me, so I guess it’s only fitting that I take yours from you.” And Dominic yanked it out.