In the Company of Wolves Page 22
He grabbed the doorknob and started to turn but forced himself to stop and take a breath. Even though everything in his body screamed for him to get the hell in there, he knew it wouldn’t do any good to rush in without a weapon or a plan.
As he paused, he realized the person on the floor wasn’t Jayna. He could hear Jayna’s heartbeat going nice and strong. Damn. It was Megan. She was too tiny to take a wound that serious. He could hear her heart beating, but it was weak.
Becker could hear Jayna and Liam arguing about something. He’d hoped his pack would get here in time to set up some kind of entry plan. But when he heard Liam say something about Jayna betraying him to that fucking cop, quickly followed by a threat to kill her, Becker knew he had to move. There was nothing he could do on this side of the house though, so he darted around to the back.
He got there in time to see Kostandin with his Colt .45 aimed right at Moe’s head. The look on Jayna’s face told Becker everything he needed to know—Kos was about to start shooting.
The hell with a plan.
Becker dug his claws into the wooden frame of the kitchen door, then yanked, letting the rage he usually did a good job of controlling come out with a vicious snarl. Tossing the door aside, he reached in and grabbed the two Albanians nearest the door, pulling them out. He slung one across the gravel courtyard between the house and the barn, then turned back to deal with the second guy. The man twisted in his grip, pointed his MP5 at Becker, and fired.
Becker knocked the barrel aside with a growl, slashing his claws across the Albanian’s throat, ignoring the gurgling noise as the man died. But he was so worried about Jayna and her pack that he didn’t have time to think about it.
Becker spun around just as the first man was getting to his feet and lifting his weapon. For a moment, Becker contemplated diving for the MP5 the now-dead Albanian had been holding, but he didn’t have time. So instead, he flung the body at the first Albanian just as the man pulled the trigger. The move distracted the gunman, letting Becker close the distance between them, then put the Albanian down in the most efficient way he could, regardless of how much blood was spilled.
Snatching up the man’s MP5, Becker checked the magazine, then flipped the weapon’s selector switch one click up from full auto to single-shot semi. He quickly moved to the left, aimed for the first Albanian inside the house he could see clearly, then put a single shot through the guy’s chest. Becker would have preferred to take out Kostandin or Liam, but they wouldn’t oblige by making a nice target of themselves.
All hell broke loose in the kitchen as the rest of the Albanian thugs started shooting in his direction. Becker doubted any of them could see him in the dark, but he sure as hell could see them. He started peppering the Albanians with carefully aimed shots. He wasn’t necessarily looking to hit them, just keep them from going after Jayna and the others.
His plan worked too well. The Albanians came charging out the recently renovated kitchen door, weapons blazing. Becker returned fire, dropping two of the men. But then his ammo ran out.
Shit.
One round clipped his hip, another his right thigh just above the knee. Becker bit back a howl as his leg fractured. The pain only got worse when he was forced to turn and fall back to the barn. He would have rather stuck a fork in his eye than turned tail on those jackasses, especially Kostandin. But trying to stand up against a group of well-armed thugs with nothing but claws and fangs was the definition of stupid, and he liked to think he was smarter than that.
He made it to the barn without getting his ass shot off—just barely. His leg hurt like hell and felt like it was going to give out on him any second.
His initial plan was to haul ass through the barn, slip out the back, then loop around to hit the thugs from behind. That plan changed as soon as he slipped inside the tidy four-stall structure and saw that it didn’t have a back door or any windows.
Well, shit.
Becker could hear Kos’s men reloading just outside the door and knew they’d be coming in soon. He glanced around, looking for a place to hide, but other than the stalls currently occupied by four terrified horses, there weren’t any. Hell, there weren’t even any decent sharp-edged farming implements hanging from the walls. What kind of frigging barn was this anyway?
He turned to face the door, his leg throbbing. He was going to have a hard time facing so many bad guys with his leg this screwed up. On the bright side, he’d gotten the Albanians away from Jayna and her pack. At least they were safe. That had to count for something, right?
* * *
Jayna was running full speed as she cleared the Stones’ front porch. It wasn’t hard to track Liam and Megan. The scent of Megan’s blood was so strong it made Jayna want to cry.
The moon wasn’t out yet, but she had no problem spotting Liam making his way through the rows of fruit trees along the left side of the property. He was moving slower than normal. Then again, he was dragging Megan with him. Jayna briefly wondered why Liam didn’t just let Megan go and get the hell on his way. But the answer was simple: he was keeping Megan to use as a shield or a bargaining chip.
As if catching a whiff of her scent, Liam looked over his shoulder at her. Instead of continuing toward the main road like he’d been doing, he changed direction, heading toward the barn.
Jayna growled and ran faster. She could still hear Megan’s ragged breathing and faint heartbeat. But she was getting weaker by the moment.
Oh God, please don’t let Megan die, Jayna prayed. Not that—anything but that.
Thoughts like that should have made Jayna so weak in the knees that running would have been impossible. But she wasn’t feeling weak. She was feeling furious—furious that Liam had shot the most fragile and gentle member of a pack he used to call his own, furious that he was running with her now like she was nothing but a disposable means to an end. Jayna wanted to kill him for being so cruel.
Liam was just up ahead. Jayna tensed to launch herself at him when she caught sight of Kos and his soldiers running into the barn. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. She assumed Eric had lured them out of the house on purpose. The fact that he was holed up in the barn didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t he just be trapped in there?
Gunshots sounded inside the barn. Her blood ran cold. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to run into the barn and save Eric.
But how could she do that and save Megan at the same time?
She was so caught up in the emotional tug-of-war inside her that she almost didn’t see Liam stop and turn to face her. Jayna skidded to a stop just as he dragged a semiconscious Megan around in front of him like a shield. Blood soaked half of Megan’s shirt and ran down her jeans. She looked so weak that if Liam hadn’t been holding her, she would have certainly fallen to the ground.
Liam pointed his gun at Jayna and pulled the trigger. Jayna dodged to the side to avoid the bullets, depending on reflexes and speed she never knew she possessed. But Liam had some pretty fast reflexes himself.
While she avoided the first few bullets, the next one bit deep in the muscles of her left arm. The pain stunned her so much that she forgot to keep moving. That earned her another bullet through her leg, knocking it right out from under her.
Jayna tumbled to the ground, fully expecting Liam to put the next bullet through her head. When the shot didn’t come, she looked up to find him glaring down at her over the barrel of his pistol, his eyes filled with hate.
“You brought all this on yourself, you know that, right?” he said in a tone so flat and emotionless she barely recognized the voice as his. The gentle and compassionate alpha who’d taken her off the streets and treated her like his little sister was long gone.
Between the sounds of fighting coming from the barn and watching the life drain out of Megan, it was hard to pay attention to what Liam was saying, but Jayna forced herself to try. She needed to figure out a way to get him to let Megan go before it was too late.
“I was taking care of everyone,”
he continued. “But you couldn’t just be a good little beta and play your part, could you? You always thought you were better than me, questioning everything I said.”
Jayna opened her mouth to tell him that wasn’t true, but he cut her off. “I never understood why you kept asking why women couldn’t be alphas, but now I do. You wanted control of the pack all along.” He motioned at Megan with his pistol. “Well, you’ve been pack leader for all of a day now. Tell me, how’s it working out for you? How’s it working out for the rest of the pack?”
Jayna started to push herself to her feet, but she froze when he pointed the gun in her direction again. She held up her hands in a gesture she hoped would placate him.
“You’re right, Liam. I did betray you. But I never wanted to be the pack leader. I just wanted us all to be safe and together. If you want to kill me for that, fine. But you don’t need to hurt Megan. She, more than any of us, doesn’t deserve this. She deserves to live.”
Liam stared at Jayna so long that, for a minute, she thought she might have gotten through to him. But then he snorted.
“Still trying to act like the alpha,” he sneered. “Saying anything you can think of to save your precious pack. But a real alpha understands that you can’t always save everyone. Sometimes the pack has to pay for their alpha’s bad decisions. What kind of lesson would it be for you if I let Megan live?”
Jayna shook her head as he turned the weapon away from her and pointed it at Megan’s head. “I think it would be fitting if I let you watch me kill your precious little Megan before I shoot you. She was always more loyal to you than me anyway. That way, you can die knowing you completely failed as an alpha.”
Tears stung Jayna’s eyes. “Liam, don’t! I’m begging you.”
“Begging?” He let out a harsh laugh. “Yet another reason you could never have been a pack leader. An alpha never begs—ever.”
Jayna held her breath as he pressed the muzzle of his handgun against Megan’s temple. She curled her good leg under her, ready to launch herself at Liam even though she knew she’d never get to him in time.
Megan opened her eyes and looked straight at Jayna. She was obviously weak and in a lot of pain, but it was clear that Megan knew exactly what was about to happen.
A sudden howl of pain came from the barn, and Liam chuckled.
“Doesn’t sound like it’s going too well for your cop boyfriend. Maybe we should wait for Kos to finish Eric off so he can drag him out here for you. Then you can see two of the most important people in your miserable little world die before you go out. Or should I just go ahead and pop Megan before she bleeds out on me?”
Jayna knew she should beg some more, say anything to give Megan another minute to live. But she knew Liam would never grant that minute.
“You’re a complete piece of crap, Liam, you know that?” she growled, her fangs extending farther than they ever had. The nearly uncontrollable anger coursing through her made her muscles vibrate and twist so much she was trembling. “And you were always a worthless alpha.”
Liam laughed. “I guess that answers my question—Megan it is.” He cocked the hammer on the pistol still pressed against Megan’s head. “Say good-bye, Megan.”
* * *
Becker was hit more times than he could count, but he ignored the pain and threw himself into the Albanians’ midst as well as his screwed-up leg would let him. They hadn’t been expecting that and it limited their ability to shoot out of fear of hitting each other.
He tore into them with claws and fangs, letting himself slip further into his wolf form than he’d ever been. His claws ripped into clothing and flesh alike, shredding material and spraying blood. Their shouts of terror and panic mixed with his snarls as he fought for his life—and Jayna’s. He couldn’t let any of these men leave that barn, no matter what it cost him.
As tightly packed in the small barn as they were, the men still kept shooting. He ignored the stabs of pain as one bullet after another tore into him. He pushed the pain down deeper, thought about Jayna, and kept fighting, ripping out a throat here, breaking an arm or leg there. He even grabbed one of the men and tossed him into a stall with one of the fear-maddened horses, smiling to himself as the horse stomped the man to death.
Becker wasn’t sure how long the fight took—everything blurred together—but at some point, he realized there weren’t any more men to fight. And that he was bleeding a lot.
He dropped to his knees as a wave of weakness hit him and his broken leg gave out. Oh shit. He hadn’t been hit in the heart, but it really felt like he was on the verge of bleeding out.
A sharp sound made his head snap up and he saw Kostandin leaning against the wall just inside the doorway, clapping his hands.
“That was impressive, Eric,” Kos said. “I don’t believe any of those omegas that Liam brought in, or even Liam himself, could have done that. It’s a pity you had to be a cop. You could have been very useful to me.”
Becker slowly pushed himself to his feet. He was unsteady as hell, but this wasn’t over. Kostandin had to die, or the Albanian would hunt down Jayna and her pack purely out of revenge.
Kos regarded the forty-five in his hand, tossing it aside with a shrug. Then he reached behind his back and pulled out that big-ass knife he always carried. He held it so the blade caught the light, giving Becker a wicked smile. “Shooting you would be too easy. This is way more satisfying, for me at least.”
Becker growled low in his throat and started forward, but the sound of voices outside the barn froze him in his tracks. It was Jayna. He’d thought she and her pack would already be far away from here. What was she doing outside the barn? Then he heard Liam saying he was going to shoot her and Megan.
Like hell.
Becker roared and lunged at Kos. The impact hurt so badly, Becker’s vision went dark for a moment. But he fought off the wave of unconsciousness that threatened him and focused on finishing off Kostandin.
That wasn’t nearly as easy as it should have been. If he hadn’t been so beat up, it wouldn’t even have been close, despite how big and muscular the Albanian was. But in Becker’s current condition, Kos was on equal footing with him.
Becker caught Kostandin’s right wrist just as the wickedly sharp knife came at his chest. At the same time, Kos grabbed Becker’s right wrist, fighting to keep his claws away from his throat. Becker tried to bring his right knee up into Kostandin’s balls, but the broken leg refused to cooperate, turning what he had hoped would be a vicious strike into barely more than a stumble.
Kos took advantage of Becker’s poor balance and slammed him into the wall of the barn so hard Becker heard the wood crack—at least he hoped it was the wood. Either way, another wave of blackness rushed over him as his head bounced off the wall like a Ping-Pong ball.
Fuck. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to get out there and help Jayna and Megan.
But worrying about them came close to getting Becker killed as Kos yanked him away from the wall, bringing his head forward at the same time to head-butt him. Becker felt the bones of his nose crunch as blood went everywhere.
The big Albanian laughed. “You’re barely making this worth my while. But I guess it’s like I told you when we first met: for all your werewolf strength and speed, a knife through the heart will kill you as quickly as it would any man.”
Mouth twisting into a smug smile, Kostandin drew back his knife hand to stab Becker through the heart.
Becker didn’t try to grab Kostandin’s hand this time, but instead only blocked it partially. While he spared himself a thrust through the heart, he left a good portion of the left side of his chest unprotected. Kos took the bait, driving the blade into his left pec up to the hilt.
As incredibly painful as it was, it left the Albanian completely unprepared for a counterstrike. With a snarl, Becker grabbed a handful of Kostandin’s hair and jerked his head to the side, sinking his fangs into the Albanian’s exposed neck. He bit down hard, then violently twisted his jaws
back and forth as he pulled away.
“And like I told you when we first met,” Becker rasped. “It’s tougher to knife a man knowing that if you miss, he’s going to rip out your frigging throat.”
He tossed Kostandin’s body aside and ran for the door. God, please let him be in time.
* * *
Jayna knew she couldn’t get to Megan in time, but she reached deep inside herself for every ounce of strength and speed she possessed anyway. If Eric was right and she really was an alpha, now was the time for those abilities to make their presence known.
And it happened.
Her legs practically hummed with power, propelling her forward faster than she’d ever moved. Her claws extended farther too, ready to tear Liam apart.
Then a roar sounded from her left, so loud and filled with rage it was impossible not to glance over to see what it was. She was shocked to see Eric racing out of the barn so fast he was nothing but a blur. But he was even farther away from Megan than she was.
Jayna turned back to see she wasn’t the only one who was distracted. Liam was staring at Eric with fear unlike anything she’d ever seen in his eyes.
Megan, on the other hand, was looking directly at her with eyes that were clear and bright and full of emotion. Nodding ever so slightly, Megan drove her elbow into Liam’s chest.
The blow wasn’t very powerful—Megan was too weak—but the move was such a surprise that Liam released her. She dropped to the ground like a rock. It gave Jayna the opening she needed, and she covered the last two yards separating her and Liam in the air.
Liam must have sensed her coming because he jerked his head up just before impact. Jayna slammed into him so hard that every bone in her body felt it. She landed astride him with a snarl and raked him with her claws, ripping the gun out of his hands and sending it flying across the graveled courtyard.
He took a vicious swipe at her with his claws, but she blocked him instinctively, like her arms just naturally knew what to do. In the same motion, her own claws—longer than Liam ever dreamed his could be—slashed across his face, cutting deep.