CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

With an almighty curse, Therese threw the gun at Bailey, sending it hurtling through the air.

Chair leg still in hand, Bailey sharply leaned to her left, easily evading the firearm that would have otherwise smacked her in the face. Adrenaline dancing through her bloodstream, she rolled her shoulders and let out a speculative hum. “You’re slower than I thought you’d be.”

Therese bared her teeth and kicked off her shoes. “You’re dead.”

“No, dear, that’s you.”

The feline charged with a yell.

Bailey swung the chair leg like it was a bat, slamming it into Therese’s head, sending it whipping to the side. Ha. Her inner snake writhed restlessly, eager but unable to join in the fun.

Bailey struck out with the wooden leg again. Therese caught it and dragged it toward her, bringing Bailey closer … and then cried out asBailey’s forehead butted her nose hard. There was a distinct crack, and then blood laced the air.

Smiling grimly, Bailey didn’t give the cursing woman a moment to recover. No, she threw aside the chair leg and went in hard, fast, and brutal; intent on making this bitch hurt. Bailey slapped and punched and scratched and kicked and bit.

It wasn’t pretty. Wasn’t “fair.” Wasn’t anything close to merciful.

She wasn’t aiming to kill. Wasn’t even aiming to disable. This was not a mere fight. This was a punishment. A prolonged, tit-for-tat beating. Only when she felt ready would she end the feline.

Pallas cats were fierce and didn’t go down easy. They’d fight to the bitter end and very rarely surrendered. But Bailey had way more fighting experience than Therese would ever know. She’d battled far tougher opponents. Had beaten said opponents.

With a chuckle of delight, Bailey grabbed the feline by her hair and ragged out a chunk. Therese roared a scream of rage and pain. Bailey’s mamba drank in the sound, wanting more.

Her hair sticking up all over the place, Therese took out the hair tie, wincing as it pulled on what would now surely be a very sensitive scalp. “You duel like a girl,” she sneered. Her eyes beginning to swell and bruise courtesy of her broken nose, she gently dabbed at one of the catty scratches spanning her face.

“Duel?” Bailey let her lips curve. “Sweetie, I’m just playing with you right now.” She sharply elbowed Therese’s throat, making her breath catch, and then slammed several heavy blows into her ribs.

Pain rippling across her face, Therese retaliated fast. But, as sinuous as any snake shifter, Bailey was a master at dodging hits and delivering surprise-blows.

The bitch only managed to land a few punches—one to Bailey’s temple, one to her neck, another to her jaw. The adrenaline pumping through her system dimmed the pain, but Bailey knew she’d feel it later.

Blood, anger, and pain laced the air. The sounds of grunts, curses, snarls, flesh ramming into flesh, and fast and heavy breathing echoed in the space.

A scowl twisting Therese’s face, she seized Bailey’s arm and yanked hard.

Sucking in a pained breath as her shoulder was wrenched out of its joint, Bailey delivered yet another ringing slap to Therese’s face—the side that sported a gaping cut on its cheekbone—and then stepped back. She’d barely righted her dislocated shoulder before a screeching Therese came at her, swinging her balled-up hand.

Bailey blocked the arm and shot out her fist, crashing it into Therese’s split lip. She followed it up fast with another punch to the ribs which made the feline jerk backwards, her breath gusting out of her.

Her bloodshot eyes blazing, Therese sliced out the claws of one hand and slashed at Bailey’s face. Fuck, it was like being scratched with razor-sharp knives.

“Now we’re even,” taunted Therese, gesturing at her cheek. She swiped out her claws again, raking Bailey’s chest, cutting through cloth and grazing skin.

Her inner snake hissed in fury and gave her an encouraging nudge, urging her to kick things up a notch and take this bitch down. But Bailey just wasn’t ready yet. Snarling, she whipped up her leg and caught Therese’s groin.

Coughing out a choked moan, Therese reflexively bent forward even as she staggered backwards. With an enraged cry, she grabbed one of her high-heeled shoes from the floor and hurled it at Bailey’s head.

Narrowly escaping a heel to the eye, Bailey let out a dark chuckle. “You look like a spoilt little kid throwing her toys across the room because things aren’t going her way.”

They went head to head again, vicious and determined, until their knuckles were bloody and swollen. They swore, grunted, gasped, and snarled.

Bailey knew she sported some wicked slashes and puncture wounds, but she gave zero fucks—especially when it was nothing compared to her opponent’s injuries. Ignoring the stings, aches, and throbs, she kept punching and slapping the piss out of her abductor. Again and again, her snake pounced within her, wanting out.

Pausing for a moment, Therese wiped at the blood dripping from her nose and down to her lips. “I don’t think I’ve loathed anyone quite as much as I loathe you right now.” The words came out all weird due to her broken nose.

Bailey felt a cruel smile curve her mouth. “Aw, thanks. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” She snapped out her fist again.

Therese threw up her arm to block the blow. Missed. Grunted as the balled-up hand connected with her jaw.

With a maddened war-cry, the feline tried slicing her claws diagonally across Bailey’s upper body from breast to hip, but Bailey jerked back to avoid the swing.

A gleam of uncertainty in her eyes, Therese licked her lips. It was easy to see that her anger had started to give way to fear. So it was no surprise when she began to ease back, blocking and dodging rather than attacking. Bailey didn’t let up, kept her strikes harsh and swift, relishing each and every cry of pain.

Panting and clearly tired, Therese was soon struggling to land a blow. Struggling to avoid blows that came her way. She kept blinking hard and swaying, seeming lightheaded—likely due to the blood loss and brutal head-punches.

“Dayna’s right, you know,” Therese fairly rasped. “You and Deke won’t fully imprint.” She went to deliver a palm-strike to Bailey’s face.

Easily dodging the clumsy strike, Bailey caught the feline’s wrist and yanked it backwards in a sharp, merciless movement and … crack.

Therese coughed out a pained curse and stared at the break in what appeared to be shock.

“I’d say that you’ll soon see I’m wrong, but you won’t be around long enough for that.” Not releasing the now-broken wrist, Bailey sank her teeth into Therese’s fingers. The warm, coppery taste of blood slipped over her tongue. A dark satisfaction filled her snake.

Tears welling up, Therese went to strike out with her free hand, but Bailey dealt her a solid punch to the spot behind her ear. A glaze fell over Therese’s eyes as they lost focus. She weaved and then landed hard on her butt. Heaving in breaths, the feline didn’t try to stand, looking all hollowed out.

But she did viciously kick at Bailey’s ankle.

Avoiding the foot, Bailey stomped hard on Therese’s thigh, grabbed a dart from the floor and then rammed said dart into the bitch’s boob.

Flinching with a cry, Therese swung up her arm, but Bailey gripped the limb and punched the side of her elbow to dislocate it. Therese gaped at the injury, seeming stunned.

Looming above her, Bailey took in the sight of her opponent. Therese’s savagely-clawed face was contorted with pain, her swollen and bruised eyes two swirling orbs of hatred. Blood was everywhere—it dripped from scratches, poured from her nose, trickled out of her mouth, seeped from head wounds, and stained several patches of her clothes. More, she’d plastered a hand to her ribs as she hauled in mounds of air, every breath seeming to hurt like hell.

All in all, she was clearly in a crap load of pain. As such … “My work here is done.”

Maybe someone else would have felt sorry for Therese right then. Maybe they would have given her mercy. But this woman had too many things to pay for, in Bailey’s opinion.

An acid attack.

A car crash.

An attempted shooting.

The near-death of her supposed BFF.

Catfishing human women.

Messing with Deke and telling lies about him.

Setting up several pride mates to take the fall for her crimes.

And an intention to sell Bailey to anti-shifter extremists, not giving a single damn that they would beat, torture, and eventually kill Bailey once they were done with her.

So, no, Bailey wasn’t feeling merciful.

Bending, she hummed. “The question is … should I actually kill you now, or should I leave you for dead as you did Dayna so as to stretch out the pain a little longer?”

Letting out a grating growl, Therese reached up and stabbed her claws into Bailey’s side.

Mother of fuck. “Death it is.” Bailey rammed her fist into Therese’s already broken nose. The feline’s head snapped back with the force of the blow and hit the concrete floor hard.

Bailey snatched the broken chair leg and rammed it into Therese’s chest, staking her. The woman arched, choking on a silent scream, her eyes going as wide as the swelling would allow. Her body writhed, her legs kicked, her hands slapped at the makeshift stake. Soon, her movements became slow and weak and pitiful, until the life finally bled from her eyes.

Inhaling deeply, Bailey straightened and stepped back. Taking a few moments to regulate her breathing, she rubbed at her shoulder. It was tender from where it had been earlier dislocated.

Eager to find Deke, knowing he’d be worried, she trudged up the set of stairs and shoved open the basement door. Stepping out, she realized there was a lot of activity going on. She could hear muffled shouting, feet thundering, and the chiming of multiple cell phones.

Padding around the corner, she noticed Helena standing just outside the door of the communal yard, talking to someone out of sight. Catching sight of Bailey, the healer did a double-take.

Bailey gave her a weak salute and mouthed, “Yo.”

Her eyes bulging, Helena turned to whoever else was out there and yelled something. She then dashed inside and hurried over to Bailey. “My God, where were you?”

Before the back door could swing shut, Deke was pushing through it. Relief flickering in his eyes, he made a fast beeline for Bailey. His lips tightened as he took in the injuries that Helena was in the process of healing. “I’ll fucking kill her.”

“You’re too late for that party,” Bailey told him. “The deed has been done.”

The moment Helena stepped back, Deke hauled Bailey close and buried his face in her neck. “Jesus, baby.”

She held tight to him, breathing him in. He said nothing more, but she didn’t need words; felt his fear for her, felt his anger that she’d been taken, felt his relief that she was well and in his arms.

She was distantly aware of Helena making a call to Havana. Though part of Bailey wanted to speak to her honorary sister and assure her that she was fine, Bailey didn’t move. Neither did Deke. They just continued to hold each other.

“What happened?” he asked, his mouth against her neck.

Without drawing back, she gave him a quick account of all that transpired.

“You staked her?”

“At least I didn’t shove it through her eye and into her brain. Thought about it. What did I miss?”

Still holding tight to her, he gave her a bullet-point summary. Meanwhile, people began to gather around them as it became clear that she’d been found. The crowd enlarged little by little as the news circulated. Soon, Havana and Aspen were shrugging through it.

Deke was not whatsoever impressed when his Alpha female snatched Bailey from his arms. Like literally snatched her from him. The devil was hellishly strong.

Babbling about how much she was gonna kick Bailey’s ass for going missing, Havana hugged her hard. She reluctantly passed her off to Aspen, who gave his mamba just as fierce a hug.

“Where’s Therese?” asked Tate, his voice dangerous, as he came up behind his mate.

In answer, Bailey slid the storage room door a glance.

Tate descended the steps fast, a bunch of people following behind him, including Havana, Aspen, and Camden. In passing, the tiger gave Bailey a casual tip of the chin … like she’d come back from a damn daytrip. He also shot Deke an “I told you so” look.

Deke cast him a narrow-eyed “Fuck you” look in response. Needing his mate close, he drew her to him once more and breathed deep, filling his lungs with her scent. The fear that had seemed to weave itself into his cells hadn’t yet began to dissipate.

Tate jogged back up at the stairs and gave Bailey an odd glance. “And people call Camden a sadist. Not that they’re wrong. Or that I have an issue with it.”

Havana huffed at Bailey. “I should be mad that snakes are still nesting here—yeah, I noticed them—but I can’t find it in me to careright now. That might change tomorrow.”

Feeling Bailey stiffen against him, Deke tracked her gaze and noticed Gerard and Dayna hovering nearby.

“You have been a very busy boy,” said Bailey, her voice cold.

Gerard flinched and opened his mouth to speak, but then he clamped his lips shut.

Bailey looked from him to Dayna. “You know, you make a perfect couple. You don’t care who you hurt so long as you get what you want. Oh, and just to be clear, Dayna … me and Deke will imprint all the way, so don’t stick around waiting for something you’ll never have.”

Tate caught Farrell’s eye and gestured toward Gerard. The Head Enforcer nodded at the silent signal and swiftly detained Gerard, who didn’t bother fighting him.

Bailey turned to Tate. “Extremists may turn up here soon, depending on whether or not they first try to contact Therese—they might hang back if they receive no answer. She intended to sell me to them.”

Havana spat out a rough curse. “What exactly went on down there? I want every measly detail.”

Wanting to get his mate upstairs so he could tend to her, Deke cast his Alpha female an annoyed glance. She totally missed it, focused on Bailey.

After his mamba finished recounting everything, he cut in, “If you have more questions, call her later, she’s done here.”

Ignoring Havana’s snort, he guided Bailey up to his apartment—a place that would soon be theirs, since she was scheduled to move in at some point in the following few days. Inside, they showered together, saying nothing. It wasn’t until afterwards, when he wrapped a towel around her, that Deke touched his forehead to hers and said, “I’m so pissed at myself right now.”

She curled her arms around his waist, careful not to dislodge his own towel. “You think you should have sensed that Therese was so majorly and creepily into you,” Bailey guessed. “Why? No one else did. She made sure to hide it. Not even Gerard realized the extent of it, or he would have anticipated that she’d turn violent toward Dayna.”

“I didn’t even realize that all the fuckery going on around us was related. I wondered about it a time or two, but I couldn’t think of anyone who’d target us both and in such different ways. Especially when the profile bullshit started way before any extremists came at you. I couldn’t make it fit.” He righted his head. “If I’d sensed how Therese felt, or I’d considered that Gerard might resort to—”

“If, if, if. Come on, Deke, you’re not omniscient. No one is. I didn’t cotton on to what was happening either. Like you, I recently thought that maybe the same person was behind it all, but we were struck at in varying ways at different points in time. It didn’t line up for me, so I didn’t think on it too hard. Do you blame me for that?”

“You know I don’t. And I get what you’re saying.” He slid his fingers into her wet hair. “But I’m still angry at myself.”

“The blame belongs to Gerard and Therese—be angry at them.”

“Oh, I am,” he fairly growled. “I could have happily tore him to pieces if my priority wasn’t finding you. And as for Therese … part of me regrets she’s dead, because now I can’t make her pay.”

“I did that well enough for both of us.”

“I can believe that.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Camden assured me that you’d be fine. But how could I not be a fucking wreck? You were gone, and I couldn’t find you, I—”

“Lived your own nightmare,” she finished. “I know. I wish I could kill her all over again for that.”

He exhaled heavily, trying to relax into his mate as she nuzzled his throat. But it was fucking hard when she—the only woman he’d ever loved, ever would love—had almost been killed.

“How about I get dressed, and you let out your cat so I can give him some snuggles?”

His pacing cat stilled, more than interested. “He’d like that.”

“Then let’s do it.” She led the way into the bedroom, where she quickly pulled on a long tee. “Now you can …” She trailed off, her brow furrowing as her head cocked to the side.

Deke, too, was frowning. “Is that the TV?”

“Uh-huh.”

His lips thinned. “I already know what I’m going to find before I open the door. Or should I say who I’ll find.”

They both padded out of the room, down the hallway, and into the living area. As he’d expected, Havana and Aspen were sat on the sofa watching a movie. They gave both Bailey and Deke a tip of the chin before sliding their gazes back to the TV.

He sighed. He should have anticipated this. Whenever something happened to one of the girls, the other two turned temporarily clingy. “Do your mates know you’re here?”

“Probably not,” hedged Havana, still looking at the TV.

“But they’ll guess when they can’t find us,” added Aspen.

With a heavy exhale, Deke turned to his mate and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be right back, I need to put on some clothes.”

“Don’t bother on our account,” Aspen told him.

Ignoring that, Deke returned to the bedroom and slipped on some sweatpants and a tee. He then picked up his cell and rattled off a text to both Tate and Camden, asking that they come take their mates home. He wanted time alone with Bailey to—

A yowl came from the living room quickly followed by a grating hiss.

“I cannot believe you two!” yelled Havana.

Letting his eyes close, Deke dropped his head with a groan.