Wolf Untamed Page 26

Diego was coming to rescue them. The knowledge both thrilled and terrified her.

  “Dave, you should leave,” Bree said.

  She didn’t want Diego to get in a fight with her ex. It wasn’t because she cared what happened to Dave, but she didn’t like the idea of what would happen if Dave got his blood on Diego. He had no way of knowing how dangerous her ex truly was.

  “If you’re still here when Diego gets up here, he’s going to kill you,” she added, praying it would be enough to scare Dave.

  But instead of running, her ex walked over and stuffed the gag back in her mouth. “We’ll see about that.”

  Giving her a smug smile, Dave turned and walked away. Bree craned her neck trying to see where he went, but the room was empty.

  Where the hell was he?

  Chapter 17

  Diego’s heart was beating out of control the entire drive to the Federal Reserve, the thumping so loud in his ears he’d barely been able to follow the chatter on the radio and the phone conversation Trey had with Gage and Samantha Mills. He vaguely remembered Trey passing along the tip about how wiping off the blood seemed to stop the delirium effect, but for the most part, Diego ignored them. Instead, he stared out the rear passenger windows as Hale drove the team’s SUV toward Pearl Street.

  He knew it was horrible to say it, but right now he didn’t care that much about the delirium crap. He just wanted to find Bree and Brandon. His worst fear was that the robbery at the Federal Reserve was a big distraction and that Dave had already taken the two people he loved out of the country while he wasted time on this damn bank job. Nobody tried to rob the Federal Reserve Bank. It was too well protected.

  It was at that moment, as he prayed they weren’t making a horrible mistake, that Diego realized how much he loved both Bree and her son. The thought of them being hurt or gone out of his life was enough to make him think a man—even one who was a werewolf—could truly die from fear and anguish alone.

  “We’re about a minute out,” Hale said from the front seat. “It looks like Dave has gotten control of a good portion of the Reserve’s security guards. There’s an all-out war going on at the main gate. Gage and the rest of the Pack are trying to keep them from getting out with two armored truckloads full of cash.”

  “Has anyone seen Dave yet?” Diego asked softly. “Or Bree and Brandon?”

  Hale met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “No one has said anything, but they only now got on scene and the shooting is intense.”

  The next sixty seconds was the longest minute of Diego’s life, and he fingered the pistol grip on his M4 nervously as he silently urged Hale to go faster.

  When their vehicle slid to a stop behind half a dozen other cop cars, Diego was out before the tires stopped squawking, flipping his weapon off safe and heading toward the sound of gunfire. But he made it barely more than a few strides before a tingling along the back of his neck made him spin around to look behind him.

  He had no idea what made him look up at the windows on the building across the street. It wasn’t like he could smell anything inside, and there was nothing to hear but shouting, sirens, and gunfire. But something made him stare at a section of windows along the fourth floor of the building.

  The glass there was heavily tinted and impossible to see through despite his werewolf vision. Even if there were people up there, they were almost certainly gawkers taking in the police drama going on right in front of them. Still, his inner wolf insisted that what he wanted was behind those windows. That if he waited, something horrible would happen.

  Diego was running before he’d actually made the conscious decision to follow his instincts, shouting over his shoulder that he was going after Bree and Brandon. Trey shouted something back, but Diego was running too fast to hear what his pack mate said.

  He picked up Bree’s and Brandon’s scent the moment he entered the street that ran between the building that had attracted his attention and the one to the southeast of it. Dave’s scent was heavy on the air, too, and Diego let out a deep-throated growl. For a moment, he was torn between letting his nose drag him farther down the street toward a white van parked there. He forced the urge aside as he realized that was probably the vehicle Dave had driven to bring Bree and Brandon here.

  Focusing, he followed his nose to one of the building’s side doors. He jerked it open to find a set of stairs. All three scents mingled there and Diego raced up the steps, letting his nose lead him. All he could think about was reaching his mate and his beta in time. Thinking about anything else was impossible.

  His fangs and claws were out before he reached the second floor. By the third, his body was starting to lean forward in an attempt to facilitate a full shift into his four-legged form. He fought the urge with everything he had. While he certainly wouldn’t have minded finding Dave and sinking his fangs into the guy’s throat and ripping his entire head off, he knew that wasn’t a good idea. Besides the whole issue with the man’s blood, there was the practical issue of not being able to open doorknobs in his wolf form.

  He pulled himself back from the edge and made it to the fourth floor, yanking the door open so fast the metal handle bent in his hands.

  Bree’s and Brandon’s scents hit him full force as he entered the wide hallway leading to what looked like office spaces. It didn’t smell like anyone had used these rooms in a while, which was probably why Dave had come up here. But all of that rational stuff disappeared as Diego realized how close he was to the two most important people in his life.

  His nose led him to the second room on the right and he listened for a moment before cautiously opening the door. He wasn’t sure what he’d find, but when he saw Bree and Brandon bound and gagged, he lost it. A growl ripping from his throat, he rushed forward and slid to his knees in front of Bree. His M4 fell to the carpeted floor, but he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on were his soul mate’s panic-filled eyes as she violently shook her head back and forth.

  Diego forced his fangs and claws to retract, afraid he was scaring her with them. He was reaching for the gag in her mouth when his inner wolf shouted at him to move.

  Dave.

  Berating himself for his stupidity, Diego threw himself to the side, coming up on a knee, his SIG in his hand.

  Something wet and warm splattered against his face as Dave approached him. The asshole had been lying in wait for him the whole time. Not that it mattered because Diego was going to make the man sorry he’d ever been born.

  He surged to his feet, aiming the sights of his handgun in the center of Dave’s chest, praying the man gave him an excuse to pull the trigger. But as his finger tightened around it, he couldn’t see the sights of his weapon anymore.

  He couldn’t see the weapon at all.

  Panic gripped him as he realized his hand and arm wouldn’t obey the commands his head was sending. Shit, he wasn’t on his feet like he’d thought, but on his knees in the same position he’d been when he rolled away from Bree.

  Just before that wet, warm sensation had hit him in the face.

  Diego fought against the invisible restraints holding him in place, his heart rate accelerating like mad as every muscle attempted to move at once. He could feel his stomach twisting as more and more adrenaline dumped into his system, trying to force the slightest twitch of anything that would confirm he was still in charge of his own body. But absolutely nothing worked.

  That wasn’t true. At least two parts of his body seemed to remain under his control—his eyes and ears. The sights and sounds of Bree and Brandon as they attempted to fight to get free of their bonds so they could help him were as terrifying as the paralysis itself.

  Diego had no idea how long he fought that silent battle before Dave dropped to a knee in front of him. Hair lank, sweat rolled down his pale face and his nose dripped bright-red blood.

  “What was that you said to me the last time we met?” Dave as
ked in a taunting voice that didn’t seem to go with how exhausted he looked. “Something about me never laying a hand on you, wasn’t it? Well, as you can see, it turns out I don’t have to touch you to get what I want. A little bit of my blood on your skin, and I can have anything I want. Even if what I want is you dead.” He let out a harsh laugh. “Actually, that’s exactly what I want. So, why don’t you lift that gun you’re holding in your hand right now, press it against your temple, and pull the trigger?”

  The words might have been posed as a question—or maybe a suggestion. Regardless, Diego obeyed all the same, his hand coming up to rest the heavy weight of the SIG’s barrel against the side of his head.

  Bree’s and Brandon’s screams were muffled by the gags as they twisted in an effort to get free of the tape, but all of that faded away as Diego felt his finger tighten on the trigger of his weapon. He fought against the order with everything in his soul, his whole body straining as he tried to move the barrel away from his head. His inner wolf joined the struggle, growling and flinging itself against the walls of the mental prison holding it hostage.

  Diego felt his fangs extend, the taste of blood in his mouth giving him a boost as he realized at least one tiny corner of his mind—the one belonging to his werewolf—retained some level of control.

  He fought harder, trying to get his fangs to come out more and struggling to extend his claws. He couldn’t tell if it was working, but he noticed Dave was getting agitated as hell, his face twisting in rage as Diego continued to fight him.

  “Dammit,” he shouted, fresh blood running down his face as his nose started to bleed more. A vessel in his right eye burst, a red stain quickly filling the white. “What the fuck are you doing? Pull the trigger! Do it! Do it now!”

  Face filled with rage, Dave smacked him hard, knocking Diego sideways so he was looking straight at Bree and Brandon. Despite the fangs in his mouth and the claws pushing their way out, Dave’s direct and specific order had his hand tightening on the gun. Diego could hear the trigger bar inside the weapon grate backward, and he knew it was a fraction of a second from releasing the hammer and firing the gun.

  Bree’s eyes locked with his, tears streaming down her face as she yanked so hard on the tape holding her to the chair she was practically bleeding. A few feet away, Brandon was frozen solid in his chair, his eyes vivid yellow-gold, small fangs extending over his lower lip.

  “Why won’t you fucking shoot yourself?” Dave shouted. “Do it, damn you!”

  Diego barely heard him as he saw his beta shift, the muscles of Brandon’s forearms twisting as the thick layers of tape around them shredded.

  Dave was so focused on Diego that he didn’t see Brandon leap at him until his son slammed into him, driving him to the floor. The attack caught Dave off guard, and in that second, Diego felt the chains holding his mind in check start to weaken. The gun fell to the floor, and his claws and fangs shot out to their full length. Diego spun around, ready to end this himself only to see Dave shove Brandon away from him, his blood all over the boy’s face.

  “Get off me, you freak,” Dave yelled, both eyes riddled with burst vessels now. More blood streamed from his nose and his ears as he scrambled backward. With a wail of agony, Dave lifted one hand to his head, pounding his temple as he flicked his attention from Diego to Brandon, then back again.

  “Why won’t you two fucking die?” he shouted.

  The words dropped Brandon on the spot and sent a spike of pain through Diego’s chest so intense it felt like a hand had reached in and crushed his heart. But for all the agony, the only thing Diego could think about right then was how scared Brandon must be.

  That thought gave him all the strength he needed, and Diego fought off the mental shackles holding him down and leaped over his beta, landing squarely in front of Dave. One shove sent the asshole flying backward through the air, slamming him into the wall hard enough to crunch halfway through the Sheetrock.

  Diego advanced on Dave, ready to rip the son of a bitch’s throat out if necessary, but Dave’s eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped limply to the carpet, unconscious.

  Within seconds, the sound of shooting outside faded away.

  Diego heard gasping from behind him and turned to see Brandon lying on the floor, looking like he was going through a full-blown panic attack.

  He was at his beta’s side in a heartbeat, dropping to his knee and putting a calming hand on Brandon’s chest. Brandon’s claws and fangs were still out, his eyes were as yellow-gold as ever, and his heart was thumping out of control exactly as it had in the diner not too long ago. Like that day, Brandon was stuck in his shifted form, too freaked out to get himself under control.

  Not surprising. Between the kidnapping, being trussed up to a chair, and having his father try to kill him, Brandon had been through one hell of a day.

  Diego paused long enough to reach out and slice through the tape binding Bree to the chair, then he ripped a piece off the bottom of his uniform T-shirt and used it to wipe Dave’s blood off Brandon’s face, making calming sounds the whole time.

  “I’m here, Brandon,” he said softly, rubbing gently on the kid’s chest with his hand and forcing him to breathe. “Your alpha is here and you’re going to be okay. I promise.”

  Diego repeated the words over and over until Brandon finally calmed down enough for his fangs and claws to retract. A moment later, his eyes stopped glowing and returned to their normal brown color.

  “You’re really my alpha?” Brandon asked softly, looking up at him in awe from where he lay on the floor. “You didn’t say that to get me to calm down?”

  “No. I’m your alpha and you’re my beta.” Diego smiled. “I’m pretty sure you already knew that. It took a while for me to catch up to the idea.”

  Brandon threw his arms around Diego and hugged him so hard it almost hurt. Then Bree’s arms were around both of them, and Diego couldn’t possibly ever put into words how right it felt for all of them to be together like this.

  “I love you so much,” she said softly. “I can’t explain it, but I know with all my heart that if I looked for the rest of my life, I’d never find anyone more amazing and more perfect than you. Not just for Brandon, but for me. I love you.”

  Diego turned his head a little and pulled her in closer, kissing her until he could almost forget where they were and what the hell had almost happened to them. But then he heard the thump of heavy boots running up the stairs and knew he didn’t have much time before they were interrupted by his concerned pack mates.

  He pulled back to look at her as Brandon sat there with a knowing look on his happy face. “You don’t ever have to explain. I fell in love with you before our first date was over and have been waiting for the right time to tell you. I didn’t think it would be a time like this,” he added, glancing at Dave’s unconscious body. “But the time and place don’t matter as much as the fact that I love you.”

  Bree leaned in for another hug when Trey, Hale, and Connor ran into the room with weapons drawn. They all slid to a stop at the sight of him locked in a group hug with Bree and Brandon while Dave lay sprawled out on the floor by the wall.

  “I guess that explains why the Reserve’s security guards stopped shooting all of a sudden,” Trey said, glancing at Dave. Diego wasn’t surprised his pack mates didn’t walk over to check to see if Dave was alive because, like him, they surely heard the man’s heart beating. “What’d you do to him, pound his head against the wall until he passed out?”

  Diego shook his head. “I’m not sure what happened. He was trying to control both Brandon and me, and I gave him a shove. Next thing I know, he passed out.”

  “I think it was because Dave overextended himself,” Bree said, sitting back on her heels. “Before you got here, he was already complaining about how much it hurt to control so many people. Controlling you and Brandon at the same time as you were shifting mu
st have burned him out, I guess. It’s like it was too much for him.”

  Beside Diego, Brandon shuddered. Diego quickly helped Bree and Brandon to their feet, then looked at his pack mates. “Let’s go into the hallway.”

  No one argued with that suggestion, and a few minutes later, they were all standing outside the room. Hale stood closest to the doorway so he could keep an eye on Dave.

  “What do we do with Dave?” his pack mate asked. “We can’t risk all that blood getting on innocent people.”

  “Maybe get the paramedics to treat it like a biohazard situation?” Connor suggested. “We can tell them Dave OD’ed on delirium and any contact with his blood will spread the drug.”

  Diego considered that for a moment. “That could work.”

  At least it was the best they could come up with right now. Connor took off to get the paramedics, leaving Diego time to catch Trey and Hale up on what they’d missed while they told him about the fighting across the street.

  “The two armored trucks were each carrying a pallet of cash, one hundred million in each,” Hale said. “If Dave’s crazy mind-control scheme had worked, he’d be set for life and then some. Luckily, we kept them from escaping without having to kill anyone.”

  Standing beside Diego, her arm around her son, Bree did a double take. “You guys already knew about what Dave could do with his blood before you got here?”

  Diego nodded. “Yeah. We cornered Ernest Hobbs and he told us everything. Turns out, Dave threatened our intrepid reporter into creating the delirium drug story as a cover for his crime spree. I hate to say it, but without Hobbs’s information, we never would have figured out what was going on. Fortunately, it’s all over now.”

  Bree let out a sigh. “Actually, it isn’t.”

  “What do you mean?” Trey asked.

  “I’ve been investigating several robberies connected to Dave’s investment firm,” Bree explained. “I thought the guy who took us hostage at the diner was behind it, but it turns out Ken Reed was investigating the thefts and realized he was being set up. I found a journal of sorts that Ken was keeping about the robberies. He suspected Dave right away, so he started following him. Not only did Ken see the people Dave turned into puppets deliver the jewelry and stuff they stole to him, but he saw him meet with his partner in crime, which turned out to be Hobbs.”