CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY

Late the following evening, Luke stood with a fairly large group in a field not far from the drop-off point, watching as Farrell swooped down in his avian form. Dark shadows stretched along the ground, giving them plenty of cover. The only source of light this far out was that of the waning moon.

His cat’s ears pricked up as he pressed against Luke’s insides, eager to hear what the Head Enforcer had learned. Luke was equally eager and raring to get moving. Adrenaline pulsed through his blood, heightening his senses and flooding his system with anticipation.

Farrell shifted shape and rolled his shoulders. The murmuring crowd went silent and joined Luke in gathering around him.

“What kind of scene are we facing?” asked Tate.

“One you’re not gonna like.” Farrell puffed out a breath. “It’s a good thing we brought extra backup on the off-chance that we’d need it.”

“Why?”

“There are four vehicles packed with humans.”

Luke felt his brows snap together. “Four?” He’d expected one, maybe two. “Why would Zayne bring such a large entourage?”

“That was my initial question,” said Farrell. “The answer? He didn’t. From what I was able to gather as I listened to various conversations, Zayne brought seven people along—three seem to be his usual bodyguards; they’re sitting with him in the first SUV. The other four are in a second SUV that’s towing a metal box which I presume is meant to contain Camden.”

Aspen spat a vicious curse.

“Maybe,” began Luke, “Zayne brought so many because he isn’t prepared to take the chance that Camden might free himself and overpower anyone close by.”

“Or the people towing the box have purchased Camden from Zayne,” suggested Havana. “After all, Zayne might have figured that it was safer for him to not have to store Camden somewhere while he arranged for a buyer to come collect him.”

Blair turned to Farrell. “Who are the people in the other two vehicles?”

The Head Enforcer rubbed the back of his head. “Well, it seems that Zayne has unexpected company in the form of anti-shifter extremists.”

Luke felt his brows fly up. The fuck?

“I recognized a few of them.” Farrell cut his gaze to Vinnie, who stood with Camden, Aspen, and Bailey. “They’ve met with you at the antique store on occasion. One is Hank Wheeler.”

Seeing his mate’s brow furrow in confusion, Luke told her, “Wheeler is pretty high up in the hierarchy of extremists.”

“He and Zayne had a brief conversation,” said Farrell. “Wheeler claimed he was just there to make sure everything ran smoothly.”

Blair pursed her lips. “In other words, like us, Wheeler doesn’t trust that Zayne doesn’t intend to kill Vinnie to hide his crime.”

That would be Luke’s guess. “Dad’s been an informant for the extremists for years—or so they believe. They wouldn’t want to lose a contact so valuable. Wheeler must figure his presence will be enough to ensure that Zayne sticks to his word.”

“I think that Zayne made the same assumption, because he seemed offended by Wheeler’s appearance,” said Farrell. “Zayne told him that his assistance wasn’t necessary, but Wheeler won’t budge.”

“Which is inconvenient for us, because it increases the number of humans that we’ll need to take out,” said Tate. “In total, how many will we be dealing with?”

“Twenty-two,” replied Farrell. “Wheeler piled quite a few into his van.”

“He likes to have a large entourage,” said Vinnie. “He may have also brought extra people as a scare tactic. After all, he’d rather discourage Zayne from doing anything stupid than actually have a shoot-out with him and his men.”

Havana twisted her mouth. “They only outnumber us by two.”

“Yeah, but we’re not armed,” the Head Enforcer pointed out. “Most of them probably are. The extremists always carry guns. At the very least, Zayne’s people will have tranqs in the event that they need to knock Camden out. Plus, Helena won’t be fighting; she’ll be on hand in case anyone needs healing—that leaves us one person down.”

“Not an ideal situation, all things considered,” said Havana. “We can still take out twenty-two, though. We’ll simply need to be careful how we proceed, because we don’t want them driving off. Have any exited the vehicles?”

“Zayne, Wheeler, and their respective bodyguards did, but they returned to their vehicles after ending their little chat,” replied Farrell.

Tate turned to Vinnie and Camden. “Lure out as many as you can. It will make it easier for the rest of us to crowd and tip over the vehicles before the humans have a chance to mow us down as they hightail it out of there.”

Pausing, Tate scanned the crowd of Olympus Pride members and their three wolverine allies—Valentina’s brothers had asked to come along, promising to eat the dead as a thank you. As you do. “You heard Farrell’s news, so you know we’ll be implementing Plan B. This will be a matter of all hands on deck. It may not be easy to get to the humans inside the vehicles. Zayne’s SUVs will no doubt have bulletproof windows and tires, given that he’s a celebrity. The extremists are known to occasionally take such measures with their own vehicles. So don’t concentrate on smashing car windows. Go for ripping off doors.”

Havana turned to their healer. “Helena, obviously you’ll stay behind ready to take care of any wounded who are sent your way. Farrell and Isaiah will ride with Vinnie and Camden. Everyone else needs to get moving. We need to arrive at the drop-off point before Vinnie pulls up.”

At that, shifters promptly began to strip. Stashing her clothes in one of the pride’s vehicles, Blair clashed eyes with Finley’s. The female enforcer didn’t give her a false smile or any sarcastic shit. In fact, she merely inclined her head before looking away. Hoping that meant that the woman had pulled said head out of her ass, Blair turned to a now naked Luke.

He gave her chin a soft squeeze, his gaze intent. “Be careful.”

She nodded. “You, too.”

“Always.”

They then both shifted.

Her female butted her mate in a silent order for him to stay alert. He bared a fang, insulted that she would feel he needed the reminder. She only sniffed.

The Alpha male’s cat let out a low-pitched call, and then he and his mate took off. Recognizing the signal, the herd of shifters followed, moving fast and quietly.

The bush dog ran alongside her mate as they bounded across the field. She approved of the long grass. It would help conceal them, much like the darkness of the night.

When the Alphas slowed, the others did the same. The bush dog pricked her ears, picking up the sound of muffled voices. Too muffled. The humans were close, but not out in the open.

Like the other shifters, she lowered to her belly as she crept forward until she was in position. From where she lay, the female could see four vehicles parked on a short strip of road at the other side of the field’s fence.

The female wasn’t put-off by the sight of the fence. It wouldn’t be hard to climb. It was small. Wooden.

She wanted to climb it now.

She didn’t like having to stay still. She wanted to hunt. Maul. Punish. Protect her pride. But she remained still and watchful, like her mate.

Her head cocked at the sound of an engine in the distance. Bright lights soon cut through the darkness. The rumbling slowed as a car came into view and parked near the other vehicles.

She felt her mate tense as his father exited the car. The door of a large van then opened, and a man stepped out.

“Vinnie,” he greeted, a note of pleasure in his tone.

“Hank,” said Vinnie. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Zayne told me you’d scheduled a meet. I thought I’d come by and ensure it went without incident, if you get my meaning.”

A whirring sound came from an SUV as a door slid open, and then … “You came through for me after all, Mr. Devereaux. Good man.” Zayne, the bush dog sensed, recognizing his voice.“It seems Hank was right when he insisted that I could trust your word.” He hopped out of the SUV, along with two large males, both of whom held guns.

The female bared her teeth in a silent snarl.

“You’re not alone,” one human said to Vinnie—the same male who had barged into Elle’s bedroom only days ago.

Vinnie frowned. “Of course I’m not alone. Who’d come alone to a meet like this? Now, I don’t think I’m the only one here who wants this over and done with, so how about we move things along and someone collects Camden from the car? You’ll be fine, he’s out cold. I had to drug him or he’d have fled the moment he saw you guys.”

Zayne barked out some orders. Men piled out of the second SUV. Two remained near the vehicle, tranquilizer guns raised, while the other two cautiously crossed to Vinnie’s car.

Vinnie looked at Zayne. “My payment?”

Zayne tipped his chin toward one of the large males beside him, who took a small case from the vehicle and then carried it over to Vinnie.

“Much obliged,” said Vinnie, taking the case from him.

“Thank you for your services, Mr. Devereaux,” said Zayne. “I truly appreciate your help in this matter. Perhaps we could do business again in the future.”

Vinnie gave a small, noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps.”

“Jesus, this guy weighs a ton,” exclaimed one human as he and another struggled to carry Camden toward an SUV.

The female tensed in readiness, knowing it would soon be time to move. Beside her, her mate fairly quivered with the urge to pounce.

It all happened fast.

Camden’s claws sliced out. His eyes snapped open. His claws stabbed into the chest of the human nearest to him. Before any humans could even think to shoot, the shifters came at them from all sides—some still in their animal forms, some shifting back as they ran.

Vehicles were tipped over. Doors were yanked off. People were dragged out and dumped on the floor. Cries went up, and shots rang out.

Most humans braced to fight, weapons raised or fists up. Other humans attempted to flee, running aimlessly.

Her upper lip peeling back, the bush dog ran for the nearest fleer, latching onto his ankle. He tripped with a curse and awkwardly fell forward, catching his weight on his elbows … right at the feet of a white tiger. The large cat slammed his paw onto the human’s head, smashing his skull. Dead.

With a sniff of satisfaction, the bush dog turned her attention to another fleeing human. She charged, dodging another human who was staggering backwards with a pallas cat wrapped around his face, and quickly brought her target down. A passing wolverine finished him off by brutally biting a chunk out of his neck.

The bush dog approved.

Again and again, she pursued those who would run. The humans cried out and cursed and screamed. Bullets whizzed and cracked and thudded into metal. But those sounds were barely heard beneath the growls, roars, hisses, yowls, squawks, and bloodcurdling screeches of the shifters.

In the bush dog’s opinion, it was mayhem at its finest.

An engine roared to life. She saw that someone was trying to escape in Vinnie’s car. They would fail, because snarling animals swiftly leaped into the vehicle. The human jumped out of the other side of it only to be quickly dispatched by a waiting wolverine.

Out of bullets, a human threw his gun at an injured pallas cat and sprinted off. The bush dog galloped after him as he made a beeline for the fence. He saw her coming and cursed, putting on a burst of speed, but he had no chance of outrunning her.

Latching onto his ankle, she used her weight to trip him. He fell hard and—

Fire blazed across her ear. Bullet. She released the human, darted aside, and crawled under Vinnie’s car. More shots rang out. Bullets peppered the ground near the car, kicking up dirt.

There was a loud cry. The firing stopped.

The female shuffled forward on her belly, ready to peek out from under the car, but then a human fell to the ground in front of her, taken down by a wolverine who savagely clawed at his back.

His face a mask of agony, the human spotted her. He weakly aimed his gun her way, his finger on the trigger. She let out a puppy-like whine and fell limply onto her side. He hesitated. The wolverine pounced on his head, all but bursting it.

With a yip of thanks, the bush dog edged out from under the car. Hearing a feline cry of pain, she looked to see a large male stomping on a pallas cat. The bush dog sprinted toward him and sank her teeth into the ankle of his offending foot. She bit and chomped and growled while he yelled and kicked out and tried batting her away with his hand.

A bearcat whizzed by, slashing the Achilles tendon of his other foot. The human dropped like a stone. And then the bush dog’s mate was there, attacking the man’s face and scalp with claws and teeth, while a black mamba struck and buried her fangs in the human’s leg.

Leaving the others to finish him off, the bush dog backed away and—

Running. Another human was running. Far and Fast.

She burst into motion, snarling when he cleared the fence and ran through the field. The female scooted under one of the wooden slats of the fence and pursued him, rocketing through the long grass. Little by little, she closed the distance between them.

She sprang, burying her teeth and claws into his calf and clinging tight. Her weight unbalanced him, but he didn’t fall. He spun, reaching backwards to knock her away, but the angle was too awkward for him.

She clawed at his leg, hooking and shredding skin, delighting in his screams. He shook his leg hard. Rather than dislodging her, he fell. Finally.

She shifted.

In mere milliseconds, Blair stood in the place of her female. She didn’t give the human a chance to react. She dropped to her knees onto his back, reached down, and snapped his neck.

Done. He was dead.

Breathing hard, she got to her feet. Jesus, this had been one hell of a night. Turning toward the pure chaos commencing nearby, she noticed that the number of standing humans had dropped liked flies. They’d put up one hell of a fight—she’d give them that much.

Shivering slightly at the evening chill, she pulled back and gave her female supremacy once more.

Her sides heaving as she struggled to catch her breath, the bush dog shook her body to settle properly into her fur. She sniffed haughtily at the corpse, disappointed the human had died so quickly. He hadn’t deserved such mercy.

With a snort, she turned away from him. Pain blasted down their mating bond. Shot. Her mate had been shot. The shock of it tensed her—

A net came down over the female, plunging her into darkness. Panic had no sooner flooded her than something sharp dug into her flank. Her vision went hazy as the world seemed to get further and further away.

She was being lifted. Moved. Fast. But any emotions she might have felt were swiftly snuffed out as her awareness faded and faded.

Her human fought to surface and help. She failed. The drug was seeping the strength from them both.

The female’s vision turned black as her world tilted. Then she was out.

Luke’s cat growled at the human pointing a gun at him. The male frantically pressed the trigger, biting out harsh curses when no bullets fired. He charged the pallas cat, the gun raised like a club. A blur of red and orange crashed into his side like a battering ram, knocking him down.

The cat pitched forward, swiping his claws along the human’s throat, severing arteries. The bearcat nodded at him and then ran off, landing on the back of a human who was crawling toward an abandoned gun; burying her claws into both sides of his neck.

Another human rushed past him, stinking of fear. A mamba twined fast around his leg and pulled him to the ground. A devil shifter then leaped at him, her mouth agape. She snapped her powerful jaws closed around his nape.

The cat glanced around, searching for his mate.

A hot impact punched his shoulder. Agony rippled along his foreleg. A warm wetness gathered in his fur.

Instinct made him seek cover. He fled toward—

Panic and dizziness reverberated along the mating bond. He staggered, dazed. A bullet sank into his back leg. Then another, making it crumple beneath him. He hit the ground just as another bullet buried itself in his flank. But he didn’t care about the threat or the pain … because he knew his mate was now unconscious.

Dread pumped through him, spurring him to stand. He tried. Fell.

A human stood over him, weapon aimed to fire. Wheeler. He sneered. “I should have known you were all shifters. Should have seen it. I didn’t think—”

A large avian descended on him, raking at his face and eyes.

Wheeler dropped the gun with a guttural scream, his hands flying up to slap at the bird.

The cat would have again tried to stand, but his human half forced his way to the surface.

Grinding his teeth against the agony drumming through him, Luke snatched the pistol from the ground and turned it on Wheeler. He didn’t fire. Didn’t need to. Because Vinnie appeared in his human form and sliced the human’s throat.

“Always did hate that bastard,” said Vinnie, dumping the body on the ground.

Still flooded with panic, Luke dropped the gun as he said, “Blair’s unconscious somewhere. One of these shitheads must have hit—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t try to get up yet,” ordered Vinnie, crouching at his side and putting a hand on his uninjured shoulder to pin him down. “Someone get Helena!”

“I need to find Blair. She’s passed out somewhere.” And Luke couldn’t seeany sign of her anywhere.

“She’ll be found. Aspen, Bailey—get Blair. She’s out cold. Be quick about it. She might need healing.”

The two females nodded and disappeared. It was then that Luke took a moment to study the scene. Bodies littered the ground—necks broken, arteries severed, stomachs sliced open, skin bitten and clawed. There was blood everywhere, slick and shiny.

Only a few humans were still alive, and it was clear that the only reason they weren’t yet dead was that shifters were having fun with them. One human had multiple pallas cats crawling over him, biting and hissing. Another was weakly wrestling a wolverine, trying to punch it in the snout even while bloody and broken. A fourth human was sluggishly army crawling along the ground, swollen lumps on his face that looked like snake bites, while a devil shifter savagely bit into his scalp.

It had been a slaughter for sure.

Luke looked around frantically, a stone lodged in his chest as he waited for either Aspen or Bailey to reappear, carrying his still-unconscious mate.

Just then, Helena appeared at his side. “Please tell me the bullets are out,” she said, examining his wounds. “Damn, this one’s not. Sorry, Luke, but this is gonna hurt.”

He grunted. “Not anything I haven’t felt be—mother of fuck.”

Tate crossed to him, his lips twitching, covered in streaks of blood but no wounds, so the Alpha had already been healed, apparently. “Stop whining.”

“Whining? Fuck you, asshole. Make yourself useful and find my mate. She’s unconscious somewhere.”

His amusement dimming, Tate nodded. “Got it.” With that, he left.

Luke drew in a breath as Helena’s healing energy began to crackle through him. His injuries faded before him until they disappeared altogether, and then the pain itself was also gone. “Thank you.”

He jumped to his feet … and his heart stopped at the grave looks that both Aspen and Bailey wore as they came toward him. “What is it?”

Aspen licked her lips. “We can’t find Blair. But … we found tracks. Tire tracks.”