Moon Sworn

Chapter 6

As screams erupted from the floors below, I glanced at Cass and whispered urgently, “Get under the bed and don’t come out until I say so.”

As she scrambled to obey, I headed for the door. There was a blue silk dressing gown hanging from a hook near the door, so I grabbed that and put it on—more to blend in than to cover my partial nakedness. Then I pressed my back to the door frame and switched on the com-link.

“Jack, we have shots fired at the brothel. Something’s gone wrong.”

“Did they spot you coming in or out?”

“I’d say no except for the fact that they’re back here and shooting. Maybe there were some security systems that weren’t taken out by the power outage.”

“And maybe they got wind of us tracking down Surrey and are now erasing all possible leads back to them. And that would mean the phone number Surrey knew, and possibly anyone who knows its location.”

“That’s pretty cold-blooded.”

“And so are your targets.”

He probably had that right. I took a quick glance around the corner. Shadows and sunshine vied for prominence in the hallway. The door down the end of the hall was still closed, but as I looked, a bolt slammed home. The occupants had obviously heard the shots—not that a bolt would stop a determined shifter. I glanced over my shoulder to ensure Cass couldn’t be seen, then edged out into the hallway.

There were people running up the stairs and others running for the rear of the building. The air was thick with the smell of fear and blood, but at least the screaming had stopped. But although there were no more gunshots, those men were still down there. I could smell the wolf, as he could no doubt smell me. Hopefully, he’d just think I was working here. It might be unusual for a wolf to work in a brothel, but it wasn’t unheard of.

They were obviously going after their main target first, and that had to be the owner, the man who’d rented them the room. Anyone else they’d take care of when and if they had the time.

I reached the banister and took a quick glance down. Two half-dressed women were fleeing up the stairs, and several yards behind them ran a man wearing a lot of gold jewelry. Behind them all, one flight down, was the blond bird-shifter with the gun. His movements were calm, assured. Maybe he knew there was no way out up here—other than jumping out a window. And if anyone who didn’t have wings attempted that from this height

… Well, he’d probably save himself some bullets.

I reached out telepathically, intending to slip into his mind and stop him, only to hit an electronic wall. The bastard was wearing a nanowire. And a strong one, if the recoil of energy was any indication. I could break it, but it would take time and, more important, leave me open for attack from the wolf. I couldn’t psychically attack two men simultaneously, even if I was one of the Directorate’s strongest telepaths.

I stepped back into the shadows and waited. The two women ran past, smelling of sweat and fear and sex. They didn’t even see me, just ran toward Cass’s room. Then the man appeared. He was small and wiry, with big ears and a twitchy nose—currently dripping sweat. My inner wolf snarled—she liked hunting rabbits, not saving them.

I grabbed him with one hand and hauled him over the banister, then clamped my other hand over his mouth, cutting off his yelp before it could leave his throat.

“Riley Jenson, Directorate,” I whispered, my lips so close to his ear I could almost taste the blood from a bullet wound on his neck. My wolf soul ached to rip and tear into the flesh she so often hunted up in the hills of Macedon, but the vampire wasn’t having anything to do with his foul stench. And that in itself was a reason to celebrate, given the sudden swing in my DNA toward vampire.

“If you want to live,” I added, “get under that bed and stay there.”

He, like Cass, scrambled to obey. Jack said into my ear, “Riley, we need them alive if it’s possible.”

“Boss,” I murmured, hoping like hell the wolf was far enough away not to hear me, “I’ve only been away for a few months. I’m not that rusty.”

Nor was I that much of a killer. I hoped.

“Do you need assistance?” he added.

I hesitated. Assistance meant calling in either Rhoan or Iktar, and the reality was, there’d be no chance of either of them getting here before the action was over—even if they were in the city. And I doubted my brother was.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Okay. I’ve ordered the cleanup team to your location. They’ll be there in twelve.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The bird-shifter was now far too close, his scent tainting the air with its sharpness.

The sound of a gunshot ripped across the tense semi-silence, and I half jumped. But the shot had not been aimed at me. It hadn’t even been fired by the shifter on the stairs. It had come from the ground floor, from either the wolf or whoever was left alive down there.

A heartbeat later, the screaming began again. I flexed my fingers, fighting the urge to help those women. I might be a guardian, I might have the advantage of speed and power, but the reality was it was still two against one, and both of them were armed. And Jack would be pissed if I got myself killed after everything else that had happened over the last few months.

The shifter’s steps were barely audible over the sounds of panic and sobbing. I briefly wondered whether Frankie—the brothel guard who’d apparently had muscles on his muscles—had been the first victim, or whether he was still down there trying to do his job, then stilled the thought as a blond head stepped onto the landing and turned.

I didn’t give him the chance to see me. I simply launched straight at him, one hand grabbing for the arm that held the gun. I hit him waist-high and we went down hard, his body cushioning mine. He reacted as any trained fighter would—with power and quickness. His fist pounded into my side so hard it felt like concrete, and it was all I could do to hang on to the arm that held the gun. He hit me again, and something inside me cracked. I swore and flicked an elbow upward, smashing it under his chin and driving his bottom jaw up into his top. On a human, such a blow would have broken his jaw, but this man was not human, and we were bred tougher. He spat out some bloody teeth and grabbed me one-handed, rolling me around so that he was on top.

“Let go of the gun, my pretty,” he said, his breath like dead meat, “or I’ll be forced to break something else.”

“Try it, and I’ll break you.”

He chuckled and raised his fist. I bucked my body, lifting him off me far enough to get one leg underneath him. Before he could release his weapon, he came down, balls first, onto my knee. Air exploded from his lungs and he went an odd shade of puce.

I ripped the gun from his grasp, smashed the butt of it over his head to knock him out, then dumped him off me.

Only to hear another set of footsteps coming up the stairs.

Crap.

I jumped to my feet, grabbed the shifter’s arms, and dragged him into the nearest bedroom. I dumped him near the bed then threw off the mattress, hoping like hell the squeaking I’d heard earlier was an indication that these beds had those cheap metal springs. And for once, fate gave me a break.

I grabbed the nearest spring, ripped enough wire free to give me a decent length of metal, then shoved the shifter on his side. After hauling his arms around his back, I tied them together with the wire, wrapping it around and around his limbs, right up to his shoulders. Of course, it wouldn’t hold him if he shifted shape, so for good measure, I smashed the gun butt down onto his elbow. The crack of breaking bone made me wince, but a shifter free and unable to fly was better than nothing. I tied the rest of the wire off the best I could, then stepped over him and headed for the door.

The footsteps on the stairs had stopped. I flared my nostrils, searching for the scent of the wolf. He was close, but not close enough. And he was more than likely as aware of my presence here as I was of his.

I had two choices: Wait him out, or go down after him.

I was leaning toward the first option when the gunshots and the screaming started again. Not just any screams, but ones that transformed into wet, gurgling sounds, only to be silenced by another gunshot.

He was shooting to maim before he killed them. Trying to lure me out with the pain of the women.

It worked.

I took a deep breath, then ran as fast as I could for the stairs. I grabbed the banister one-handed and flung myself over it, dropping down the stairwell onto the second to last step and landing half crouched. I saw the wolf immediately. Saw the gun pointed straight at my head. I threw myself sideways, smashing several balusters as I tumbled out into the third-floor hallway. The bullet meant for my head thudded into my shoulder, and pain erupted.

The bastard was using silver.

I’d been shot far too many times by the wretched stuff, and my flesh reacted instantly. Fierce, aching fire flared down my arm, stealing sensation, stealing strength, before I could even blink.

If I didn’t take him down soon, I wouldn’t be able to.

But the minute I moved, he’d shoot me again. And with the silver already in my shoulder, I just didn’t have the speed behind me anymore. Not even my vampire blood could save me from the effects of it.

So instead of moving, I remained where I was, shuddering and shaking and sweating. It wasn’t an act. The pain was intense, and growing sharper. But my fingers—the ones on my right hand, the hand I could still feel—were wrapped around a sturdy piece of broken baluster. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it didn’t need to be when you had the strength of a vampire behind you.

Although if he didn’t move soon, the silver might snatch that from me, as well.

For several seconds, nothing happened. He remained where he was, motionless and silent, except for the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. But I could feel his tension, could smell his readiness to act should I even twitch.

Finally, he stepped forward. One step, then two. Soon the sharp aroma of male wolf filled every breath, and it was all I could do not to twist and plunge the stake into his flesh. He wasn’t anywhere near close enough for that.

So I waited as the fire in my shoulder flared even brighter and the numbness began to creep across the rest of my body.

He toed my back, then retreated quickly. I didn’t react. He tried again, harder this time. I moaned—a sound that was real and heartfelt because he’d hit the broken bone. He chortled softly, then stepped over me.

I lashed upward with a booted foot, striking him hard in the nuts. As he stumbled and dropped, I twisted upright, driving the balustrade into his upper arm, forcing it through flesh and muscle and then into his side, pinning his arm to his body. He screamed, his fingers jerking reflexively and releasing the gun. I twisted, knocking him off his feet, then jumped to mine, staggering forward for the weapon.

“Jack,” I panted, as I wrapped my fingers around the gun. I swung around and smashed it across the wolf’s face. He went down and didn’t move. “Get someone here quickly. I’ve been shot by silver and I’m fading fast.”

He swore. “The men?”

“Out of action for the moment.” My back hit the wall and I slumped down its length, my rump hitting the floor hard enough to send a wave of pain through me. For a moment, I saw red. Sweat broke out across my forehead and stung my eyes. I blinked fiercely and tried to concentrate on the wolf. He might be unconscious right now, but if the bastard woke and so much as twitched in my direction, I’d shoot him. And right now, with the silver burning in my flesh, I didn’t really care if I killed him or not.

“The team is four and a half minutes away,” Jack said. “Hang in there, Riley.”

I wasn’t going to make four minutes. I doubted I’d even make two. The burning was getting worse and my hand was beginning to shake so hard I’d be in danger of shooting myself if I actually fired the weapon.

“Cass,” I yelled, my voice hoarse and scratchy. “I need help here.”

There was no immediate response, and I can’t really say I blamed her.

“Cass,” I screamed. “The men are down, Directorate reinforcements are almost here, and I’ve been shot. I really, really need your help.”

“They’re three minutes away,” Jack said into my ear.

Really? I thought, a little dazedly. Cole was really pushing the speed limits.

The numbness was beginning to creep up my neck. Breathing was getting harder. Oh god. I couldn’t die—I didn’t want to die. Not like this.

Strength flooded me—a strength that was love and warmth and everything that was still right with my world. It battered the numbness away from my neck, allowing me to breathe a little easier. It didn’t erase it—it couldn’t erase it—just subverted it, sending it down toward my legs rather than into my chest and throat. It bought me time, and I needed that desperately.

You will not die, Riley, Quinn said. I won’t allow it. Keep breathing. Keep fighting. I’m on my way.

No, I thought weakly. Don’t. I’ll be fine.

And even as I said it, I knew he’d ignore me. And part of me was mighty glad of that fact.

After a few more precious seconds, footsteps echoed on the stairs, heading down.

“Riley?” Cass’s voice was tentative, as if she were ready to flee given the slightest provocation.

“Here,” I croaked.

Her head appeared in my line of sight, but it was fuzzy. Or maybe it was just my eyesight that was fuzzy. Her gaze widened when she saw me, and her face went white.

“Oh god,” she said, one hand over her mouth.

“Yeah,” I said. “He was using silver bullets. I need you to take it out.”

“Two minutes,” Jack intoned. “Hang on.”

Cass drew in a shuddering breath and said “I can’t—”

“You can,” I interrupted harshly. “You must.”

I put the gun down on the floor. My hand was shaking far too hard now for it to be safe.

She made a distressed sound low in her throat, then took another breath. “I’ll get Marla. She’s better at—”

“No. You need to do it. Now.”

“But I haven’t got any tools—”

“You have hands, Cass. Just hook a finger into the wound and dig it out.”

“Oh, fuck.” But she dropped down beside me and a hand touched my shoulder. Her fingers were shaking almost as much as mine.

Find something to bite down onto, Quinn suggested. It’ll help.

I groped for some wood then shoved it in my mouth as she took another deep breath. “Okay.”

That was all the warning I got. She plunged her finger into the wound and a scream wrenched its way up my throat. Everything went red and the sweat on my brow became a river.

Cass was crying and shaking, but she didn’t stop. Blood spilled from the wound and pain seemed to consume my world. It was all I could do to stay conscious. Heaven help the lot of us if one of those men became aware enough to attack now.

Then the bullet moved. Sideways, not upward. Not out. White-hot fingers of pain rolled through me, and I bit down on the wood so hard splinters drove into my tongue.

Cass swore bitterly and drove her finger a little deeper. The bullet moved again, but this time it came up, making a slight popping sound as it came free of my flesh.

The relief was almost instantaneous. I leaned my head back against the wall for several heartbeats, drawing in great gulps of air, feeling the fire wash away and hoping like hell the numbness did, as well.

“Thank you,” I said eventually, and opened my eyes. Her eyes were puffy, her nose pinched and red, and she was as pale as possible for a dark-skinned woman. “You just saved my life.”

“And you saved T.J.’s and ours. A fair swap, I think.”

“Yeah.” I raised a still-shaky hand and wiped the sweat from my eyes. “But I think he shot some of the girls and the man-mountain guarding the stairs.”

More tears spilled from her eyes. She scrubbed at them hastily, then spun around at the sound of footsteps, her fear ramping up several notches.

“Riley?” Cole’s voice, harsh and urgent.

We were safe.

I could let go.

Once I’d shifted shape to stop the bleeding and heal my broken rib, that’s exactly what I did.

W hen I came to, it was to find myself in warm, familiar arms. They were wrapped around me, holding me steady, pressing me against a body that was hard and strong.

“Hmmm,” I murmured, snuggling in a bit deeper. “This is how a girl should wake from every nightmare.”

Quinn kissed the top of my head, his lips light but warm. “I don’t mind the ‘holding you while you wake’ bit, but let’s avoid the whole ‘getting shot by silver’ part in the future, shall we?”

“Love to.” I opened my eyes and blinked at the unexpected harshness of the light. We were obviously no longer inside the shadowy confines of the brothel. “The problem is the bad guys. They seem intent on using the stuff.”

“Well, you’ll just have to learn to avoid them better.”

I snorted softly and sat a little. Quinn’s arms slipped from my waist to my hips, but he didn’t let me go. Maybe he was afraid I’d fall flat on my face. And given the tremor that invaded my muscles when I moved, he was more than likely right. “The trouble with avoiding bad guys is the fact that it’s my job to bring them down.”

“Then maybe we need to change your job.”

I glanced at him and saw the seriousness in his expression, the little lines of tension and worry around his eyes. I raised a hand and caressed the strong, beautiful planes of his face. “Maybe.”

He smiled and kissed my fingertips. “The wolf still enjoys the hunt. When she doesn’t, let me know.”

“I will.” I leaned forward and kissed him, slowly and sweetly.

The ringing of the phone interrupted us. “That will be your brother again,” Quinn said dryly. “He wouldn’t believe me when I said you were okay the first dozen times.”

“Such sarcasm from the man who came running to my side. Against my wishes, I might add.”

He shrugged and handed me his cell phone. “I’m more connected to you now than he is—and if it had been really bad, then I could save you only by being beside you.”

“Really? How?” I said, then pressed the answer button and added, “Rhoan, I’m fine. Really.”

“So Quinn said, but I needed to hear it for myself. What the hell happened, Riley? I was getting all sorts of weird sensations.”

“I got shot with silver.” I flexed my left hand as I said it. I had full motion back, but there was a definite lack of sensation coming from my fingertips. What was it about my left limb that bad guys seemed to hate? First I’d lost a finger, then I’d lost a chunk of skin, and now it looked like I might lose sensation. That would totally suck—but I guess if it was going to happen, then better my left hand than my right, given I was right-handed.

“Well, that explains the burning and numbness that hit me. You okay?”

“I’m alive, and I can move. That’s always a bonus after being shot.” I didn’t mention the continuing numbness. There was nothing anyone could do about it, so why bother?

“Totally true.” He paused, and I heard murmuring in the background. “Liander said he’d do roast lamb for dinner tonight. He thinks you need the treat.”

“Tell him I’ll love him forever if he does.”

Rhoan snorted. “God, you can be so easily bought.”

“Totally. I’ll see you tonight, bro.”

“You should be coming straight home after such a close call, not lingering at work.”

But he wouldn’t have come straight home, and we both knew it. “I have a job to do, Rhoan, and it’s not finished yet.”

He grumbled something I couldn’t quite catch, then said, “Yeah, yeah, see you tonight.”

I grinned as I hung up, then handed the phone back to Quinn. He pocketed it, then gently brushed the stillsweaty strands of hair away from my forehead. His fingers were unusually cool against my skin, and I frowned.

“Why aren’t you as warm as usual?”

He raised a eyebrow. “I am. You, however, feel like you’re burning up.”

“Oh.” Maybe it was an aftereffect of the silver. Or the fact that we were sitting here in the warm sunshine. Although, it wasn’t even sunny enough to drive Quinn inside.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t hot enough for someone whose vampire genes were coming to the fore …

I thrust the thought aside, not wanting to dwell on such possibilities right now. My skin might be warm but it wasn’t frying, so I saw no point in worrying about it yet. “How long was I out?”

My gaze moved to the building on the other side of the road. There were several ambulances out front, as well as Cole and the coroner’s cars. In fact, the entire street was blocked. I could see the cops diverting traffic.

“Less than ten minutes,” he replied. “Just enough to get you out of there and find somewhere to sit, really.”

That somewhere was the bus stop. Just as well the bleeding had stopped. “We would have been more comfortable in your car.”

“We would have, but my car wasn’t here at the time. I travel faster out of it.”

I looked at him, seeing again the little lines around his eyes and suddenly realizing they were from fatigue rather than worry. “That’s why your skin is cooler. You used your Aedh form.”

As an Aedh, he could become smoke and travel places the vampire couldn’t go—not even a very old one. He could ride the wind and survive attacks few other vampires could. But like any ability, it had its drawbacks. In the case of his Aedh powers, it left him weak. The more he used it, the weaker he got.

“I also fed you energy,” he said, and shrugged. “I’ll be fine in a few hours.”

“Good.” I paused, then added, “You said before you could save me only by being beside me—what did you mean by that?”

“The Aedh are blood cousins of the Reapers. They are the dark to our light. We are the gatekeepers and they are the guides, but our powers are similar.” He hesitated, his gaze sweeping mine, as if what he were admitting somehow alarmed him. “I could have—if I’d wished—stopped your soul from rising from your flesh and kept it bound until we removed the silver and had you breathing again.”

I stared at him. Was I ever going to fully know all the facets of this man? Was I ever going to truly know just what he was capable of?

And did it matter?

The answer to that question was a decided no. I loved him, no matter what he was, no matter what he could do.

“That is as scary as hell.”

“And the reason why there are so few of the Aedh around. Humans kill what they fear, and the Aedh can be killed as easily as any man if caught in human form.”

The key being catching them in human form. A harder task than it seemed, given they could turn to smoke in the blink of an eye. “So if you could do all this, why didn’t you drag me from unconsciousness when I was in hospital after Kye died? I mean, Death—or the Reaper, or whoever the hell that shadowy cloak figure waiting for me was—could have snatched me at any time. Why didn’t you just pull me awake?”

“Because I can’t, just as the Reapers can’t.” He hesitated. “Or in their cases, won’t. The soul has to make the choice to leave the body before either of us can act.”

Well, I guess that was a comforting thought.

Across the road, two ambulance officers appeared, with a stretcher between them. On it was a woman and, even from here, I could hear the ragged sound of her breathing. But she lived, and I guess that was something.

But I couldn’t help wondering just how many others had died. Suddenly, I had to know. Besides, I needed to thank Cass, and make sure she was okay.

I blew out a breath and forced myself to get off his lap. He let me go but kept one hand close, and it was just as well because the street suddenly decided to do a drunken dance around me.

“Damn,” I said, grabbing at his arm for support. “The silver has really drained me.”

“You need to go home—”

“I will,” I interrupted, “but after I talk to Cole.”

“That’s fine.” He slipped his hand under my elbow. “We’ll just go talk to him together. And then I’ll drive you home.”

“I thought you didn’t come in your car?”

“I didn’t.” He gave me an amused glance as he escorted me across the street. “But it’s not far away, either. And I’m quite capable of driving yours.”

“You can’t leave your car, because the local street kids will either redecorate or steal it. And I’m not leaving mine for the same reason.” I patted his hand. “If you’re that worried about me, you can follow me home.”

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. I could feel his annoyance through the link between us. And that wasn’t surprising, given right now I felt as weak as a kitten, but it would pass soon enough.

We walked up the steps and into the building. The smell of blood, sex, and fear mingled with the scent of antiseptic, creating a cloying mix that stuck in my throat and made me cough. I dug out my badge and flashed it toward the crime scene recorder set up just above the doorway, then stepped over the blanketed figure lying between the main entrance and the waiting area. Frankie had obviously been one of the first killed. And if the bulge evident on the side of his hip was anything to go by, he hadn’t even fully drawn his weapon before he’d been shot.

There were two more bodies in the waiting area, one woman and one man. Both had taken a shot to the head at close range. I moved through into the next room, and found Cole squatting beside yet another woman.

“Gunshot to the chest,” he said unnecessarily. He glanced up, his expression as angry as I’d ever seen it. “It’s times like this I’m glad the Directorate has kill orders. The bastards who did this deserve death.”

But only after Jack had extracted the information he needed. “How many dead?”

“Seven. The guard by the door, two in the front room, this poor lass, and three others who were running for the back door.”

Meaning T.J. and the women I’d told to stay hidden had survived. That was something. “Did you round up the brothel owner? He was here, as well, and he’s the one they were after.”

“He’s scampered, but we’ll track him down easily enough.”

If we didn’t, then the organization behind all this would. If T.J. had any sense, he’d come to that same conclusion and turn himself in. Even so, I reached into my pocket and drew out the scrap of paper Cass had given me earlier. “Here is his address. You might as well add it to your report, because I need to rest before I write up mine.”

He nodded and slipped the piece of paper into an evidence bag. I glanced around at the sound of footsteps, and watched another two ambulance officers walk a stretcher past. This time, the person on it was in a bag. I hadn’t saved them all. I couldn’t have saved them all, and yet some small part of me regretted that. Quinn slipped his hand into mine, gently entwining our fingers and squeezing lightly. Comforting without saying a word.

My gaze returned to Cole. “Have you seen a woman named Cass?”

“Yeah. She went to the hospital with one of the women. Why?”

“Because she saved my life and I just wanted to thank her again.”

“Then she’s someone I need to thank, as well,” Quinn said. “She saved me from having to bring back the dead.”

Cole raised an eyebrow, expression suggesting he was unsure whether Quinn was joking or not. I didn’t bother enlightening him but simply said, “Did Jack tell you about the top floor? It’s bristling with security equipment guarding a phone and God knows what else.”

He nodded. “Dusty’s up there now, hacking into the system. It shouldn’t take him long to get in. Do you want to be advised when we do?”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “I’ll just read the report. I really need to go home, grab a shower, then rest.”

His gaze swept me, and his voice was wry as he said, “Oh, I don’t know. Bloodstained blue silk looks quite fetching on you.”

And if I didn’t watch it, that would be all my life contained. Bloodstains. On my skin, in my soul. I forced a smiled then walked away, Quinn by my side.

I raised a hand to cut the glare of the sun as we walked out of the building, pausing on the front step as I looked down the street. My car was still parked where I’d left it.

I squinted down to the other end of the street but couldn’t see Quinn’s car. “Where’s your car parked?”

“A few streets over. I abandoned it when I felt you slipping too fast.” He bent to kiss me, his lips still cool on mine. “I’ll be right behind you within a minute.”

“It’s not like I’m going to pass out while I’m driving,” I said. “I’m really not that weak.”

He smiled, and lightly touched my nose. “You lie, Riley Jenson, but I appreciate the effort.”

With that, he turned and walked away. I watched him for several seconds, enjoying the lithe, economical way he moved, then turned and headed for my car.

Within minutes I’d joined the steady flow of traffic heading for the city. Quinn’s black Porsche was three cars behind me.

We were on Queens Road, cruising past Albert Park, when I saw the truck. It was on the other side of the road and driving way too fast, its movements erratic, swiping the cars that were trying to get out of its way and sending them spinning into others.

I edged over into the other lane, hoping that would keep me out of harm’s way. After surviving a silver bullet, the last thing I wanted was to be mown down by a goddamn truck.

I couldn’t see any cops behind the truck, but they surely couldn’t be too far away. The driver was obviously high on either drugs or alcohol, and someone would have reported him by now.

He drew closer, but the sheer height of the cab and the darkened windows made it almost impossible to see the driver. He was little more than a dark shadow, and for some reason, the small hairs on the back of my neck rose.

Which was ridiculous.

He was just another idiot in the grip of some form of substance abuse or this was his idea of fun driving. I’d seen plenty like him before, and I had no doubt I’d see plenty in the future.

And yet something suddenly felt wrong.

I watched him draw closer, my fingers tense on the wheel. The truck swerved away from my side of the road and, for an instant, I felt safe.

But I’d barely relaxed my grip when the truck’s tires squealed and the huge grille suddenly filled my vision. I cursed and ripped the wheel sideways as I hit the gas pedal. The car half spun as it surged forward and the truck hit the rear, smashing me into a lamppost. The impact flung me about violently and the side airbags popped, catching my head before it could hit the window. Metal crumpled as the passenger side of the car bent around the post.

We’d barely come to a standstill when another car hit us head-on. It tore my car away from the pole and sent it skidding backward, the windshield shattering under the impact and spraying me with glass. For a moment I couldn’t see anything, my vision filled with white bags and the steam erupting from my engine. I eased up on the gas pedal, but it didn’t make a damn bit of difference. I reached forward and turned the key, shutting the engine off. Moisture ran down the side of my face as I moved, stinging my eyes. I swiped at it irritably, and my fingers came away bloody. I hadn’t even felt a bump to the head.

Over the groaning of metal and the hiss of escaping steam came the deep-throated growl of the truck’s engine. The driver was still moving, still finding targets. And Quinn’s car had been three behind mine.

Fear surged and for a moment I couldn’t even breathe. Then I grabbed the handle and flung the door open. In my haste to get out I forgot the seat belt and it snapped tight, almost choking me.

I cursed, undid the thing, then climbed out. The road was awash with wrecked vehicles and dazed people getting out of cars. Ahead, the truck had found another victim. A black car had been turned onto its side, and the truck was hitting it again and again, rolling it over and over. There was blood on the windshield, and the back half of the car was crumpled almost beyond recognition. No one could survive such a mess …

Suddenly, what I was seeing hit.

That black car belonged to Quinn.

“No!” The scream was wrenched from my throat. I flung myself past the door and ran down the road. I couldn’t lose him as well. Not like this. Not in some stupid, senseless act of violence …

Something sharp hit my arm and I stumbled, whacking against the road hard, skinning my hands and knees in the process and grunting in pain.

I swiped at the thing in my arm and realized it was a dart. A goddamn hunting dart. “What the fuck?”

I reached for it, but my vision was suddenly blurry. The dart became two, then three, then all of them danced away. I swore and tried to get to my feet, tried to keep running, to get to Quinn and to stop the truck, but my legs wouldn’t obey me.

The world was spinning; my mind was spinning. Everything was going around and around, until I just wanted to throw up.

“Well, what have we got here?” The voice was rich and somewhat arrogant. It was also far too familiar.

Blake.

The Alpha of the red pack. The man who’d made my childhood hell. The wolf who’d sworn revenge for the humiliation I’d dished out to him not so long ago.

Kye had warned me Blake was planning his vengeance, and yet despite that, I just hadn’t expected he’d act this soon.

He moved toward me, his bulk filling my vision and his gait oddly erratic. Like something was wrong with one of his legs and he couldn’t put much weight on it.

“You’d better hope you haven’t killed the man in that black car,” I croaked, blinking desperately to gain some clarity in my vision.

God, I just wanted to close them. To rest.

I jerked them open instead. There were fading bruises and almost-healed scratches all over his face, an indication he’d been in some sort of accident recently.

Shame he didn’t die in it, my inner wolf snarled. It would have saved me the trouble.

Though I couldn’t help wondering what had happened—and whether it had been an accident, or someone’s attempt at retribution.

“Oh, he’s dead, have no doubt of that,” Blake said. “The car doesn’t even resemble a vehicle anymore.”

Fear leapt into my throat, my heart. I didn’t want to believe him, but I couldn’t feel Quinn. Not in my mind, not in my heart.

He couldn’t be dead.

He couldn’t.

Boots invaded my vision. Shiny brown boots. I swiped a hand across my eyes and forced my head up. Past the boots and the medical uniform, until Blake’s blunt features swam into view. His silver eyes glinted with pleasure and his expression was victorious.

“I will kill you, Blake.” Though the words were shouted inside my head, they came out as little more than a croak. “And if I don’t, the Directorate will.”

“Oh, the Directorate can only legally kill me if I kill you. And I don’t actually intend to kill you. That would be too easy. The person I intend to kill will be someone else entirely.”

Which made absolutely no sense. I licked my lips. The sick fear churning my gut seemed to be sweeping through the rest of me, sapping my energy. My arms and legs were quivering with the effort of holding me upright, and it was all I could do to not collapse.

“Don’t you dare go near Rhoan,” I spat, “or I’ll fucking erase you and every one of your goddamn sons from this earth.”

“Oh, I have no intention of killing him. Him being unable to find or save his sister will be punishment enough.”

He gave me another sharklike smile. “And you, my dear wolf, won’t even remember who you care for, let alone who I am. Hell, you’re not even going to remember who you are. I bid you farewell, Riley Jenson. I hope you enjoy the week you have remaining—but I very much doubt you will.”

And with that, my world went black.