Chapter 25 #2
Steiner’s voice dropped, soft and private.
“You know what’s going to happen? Tomorrow morning, I’m putting your little sister on a jet.
She’s going to Maltraz, and he gets his pound of flesh.
But you? You’re staying right here. I’m going to keep you, just like you wanted. My own little wolf on a chain.”
He let that hang. The guards laughed, but it was a nervous sound, not a real one.
I worked my wrists, testing the guards’ grips. The one on my left was strong, but the other’s hands shook—junkie, or maybe just new. I made a mental note.
Steiner loomed close, face inches from mine. “Last chance. Tell me where your boyfriend is, and I’ll make this quick. Lie to me, and I start breaking bones.”
I spat in his face. “You’re gonna die today.”
He backhanded me again, harder; the ring rattled my teeth. I tasted air and blood, and this time I fell.
He let me hit the floor, then planted a boot on my spine. The heel ground between my ribs, steady pressure at first, then more and more until something gave with a sickening crack. I screamed; couldn’t help it, and the sound echoed off the metal walls.
Brie screamed too, shrill and desperate, her hands gripping the bars of the cell.
Steiner leaned down, whispering in my ear. “That’s one. Only twenty-three more to go. He kicked me, lifting me from the ground.” This was it; he was actually going to kill me this time.
Through the pain, I scanned for weapons, anything—a pipe, a shard of glass, a loose bar. There was nothing, but I locked onto a hunk of steel pipe sticking out from under the mat. If I could reach it…
The guards threw me against the bars, the pain in my side white-hot. I gritted my teeth, forced my vision to clear.
Steiner stared down at the two other women. “This is what happens to heroes.”
The women pleaded, but he just motioned to the guards, who pulled them from the cell. I saw the dark-haired woman mouth “I’m sorry” before they dragged her out.
Steiner was back in my face as his hand clasped my throat.
“I was good to you, Harper. Gave you everything.” He growled.
“And you repaid me by running. I’m going to enjoy punishing you.
You think taking Maltraz’s demon dick was bad?
Just wait. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” His fist landed under my ribs over and over.
Pain exploded. I struggled for breath from his large hand choking the life from me, and the relentless blows to my gut; had me start to lose consciousness.
One of his men called out. “Boss, we got trouble.”
He released my throat, and I fell to the ground, but he kept his foot on my back.
I coughed, blood spattering the floor.
He leaned down to me and laughed. “Don’t get your hopes up, slave. Your boyfriend is probably already dead. The French wolves will never let a foreign pack disrupt their territory. My guess is they already took him out.”
All at once, the front doors of the warehouse banged open so hard they shuddered on their hinges.
For one perfect instant, every wolf in the place froze, then broke for cover as a shape in black tactical gear strode into the light.
Arsenal. He looked like a nightmare out of an action movie, every line of his body rigid with intent.
Doc had his six, looking just as deadly.
Every cell in my body came awake at once.
The bond between Jess and me lit up, urgent and wild, like a wire sparking in water.
But I couldn’t move—Steiner had his boot on my back, pinning me down with enough force to keep me from even raising my head.
Brie cowered in the cell, shaking so bad I thought she might seize.
Steiner didn’t even flinch. He watched Arsenal approach, the smirk back on his face. “You came,” he said, voice flat with glee. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.”
Arsenal’s gaze was all murder. “Let them go,” he said, and his voice was so cold it seemed to freeze the air between them.
Steiner shook his head. “I just took back what already belonged to me, mutt.”
He planted his foot harder on my ribs, making me gasp. “You want her, you come and get her.”
Arsenal didn’t hesitate. He moved forward, gun up, and at the same moment, all hell broke loose.
From the back of the warehouse, the door crashed open and Wrecker with the French wolves—Marcel and Etienne—stormed in, guns blazing.
Wolves fell everywhere, some dropping immediately, others shifting mid-run, teeth and claws flashing in the gunpowder haze.
Overhead, the skylight exploded, and a member of the French team dropped through in a rain of glass, landing with a shotgun already up and firing.
The guards by the cell scattered, but Steiner kept his weight on me. Through the chaos, I heard him laughing. “This is your cavalry, Harper? I’m disappointed.”
I twisted, desperate for leverage. The pipe was still just out of reach, and my left arm hurt but had already started healing thanks to my wolf blood heightened by the proximity to my mate.
Steiner had turned toward Jess, and that gave me wiggle room.
I used every ounce of pain to drag myself closer.
Brie huddled against the bars, eyes shut tight. “Harper, please—” she whispered.
“Get down,” I told her, voice raw.
The shooting intensified. Wolves dropped left and right, the French team moving with the efficiency of men who’d done this a hundred times. Marcel took a bullet in the arm but kept moving; Etienne knifed a wolf through the eye, then used the corpse as a shield while he reloaded.
For Doc to be a healer, his penchant for death was uncanny. He used the Glock in his hand as though it were an extension of his arm. He flew through the warehouse, dropping wolves as fast as he could shoot.
Parker took up position by the office stairs, picking off any wolf who tried to circle behind Arsenal. Wrecker made it to the catwalk above, then threw himself over the rail, landing on two wolves with enough force to shatter bone. I heard a neck snap; the sound crisp as a carrot.
Steiner bent down, breath hot on my ear. “You know what’s funny?” he said, voice almost gentle. “You never had a chance. None of you.”
He drew a pistol from his waistband, pressing the muzzle to my temple. “You think I won’t do it?” he hissed.
I grinned, bloody and unhinged. “I think you’ll hesitate, just like you always do.”
And then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Arsenal moving.
He’d dropped his gun, now empty, and was charging Steiner head-on.
Steiner swung the pistol up, but Arsenal was already there—he grabbed Steiner’s wrist, twisted, and the gun skittered across the floor.
They crashed into the bars; the impact rattled the whole cell.
For a split second, Steiner’s foot left my back. I lunged for the pipe, grabbed it with numb fingers, and pulled myself to my knees. Every nerve screamed, but I held on.
Arsenal and Steiner traded blows, neither giving ground. Steiner was stronger, but Arsenal was meaner—he went for the eyes, the throat, anywhere that would slow Steiner down. Blood spattered the concrete. The fight was close and ugly, nothing like the clean choreography of the movies.
Wrecker joined in, slamming Steiner from behind and locking his arms around Steiner’s chest. “Now, Harper!” Wrecker shouted. “Do it!”
I staggered to my feet, pipe raised vertically over my head. Steiner saw me coming and laughed, even as he tried to break free of Wrecker’s grip.
“C’mon, darling,” he taunted. “One last dance?”
I didn’t answer. I brought the jagged end of the pipe down as hard as I could, aiming for the place where his shoulder met his neck. The steel entered, crunched bone, and tore through muscle, and this time Steiner screamed. He tried to turn, but Wrecker held him fast.
I drove the pipe deeper, impaling organs, bones, and tendons until Steiner slumped to the ground, gasping.
Arsenal leaned over, voice low. “You’re done, Steiner.”
Steiner’s mouth worked, blood bubbling between his teeth. “You think you’ve won? There’s always another wolf. Or demon.”
From behind, Etienne appeared, gun raised. He put a single bullet through Steiner’s skull, neat and final. His body jerked, then went slack.
I collapsed. Every part of me hurt. Brie reached for me through the bars, sobbing.
Arsenal hauled me into his arms. “You okay, bluebonnet?” he whispered.
I tried to smile. “Never better.”
He kissed my hair, then looked at Brie. “You too, little sister?”
She nodded, mute.
Wrecker and the French team swept the warehouse, making sure every wolf was dead or dying.
Parker found the keys, unlocked the cell, and pulled Brie out.
Then she pulled me from Jess’s arms into a careful hug.
“Told you I’d hack every camera in Paris if I had to,” she said, voice watery with relief.
I hugged her back, then clung to Jess as he carried me out the door and into the morning light. The warehouse was a war zone—bodies everywhere, smoke still curling from spent gunpowder. But it was over.
On the street outside, Big Papa waited with the van, ready to run.
Arsenal set me gently on the seat, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. He knelt in front of me, searching my face for something I couldn’t name.
Doc was on the phone in the passenger seat. “Gwen’s good. Veil is strong. Nobody in the area should be aware of what just went down.”
Relief washed over everyone.
Jess climbed in and pulled me close as he held me on his lap. “You did it,” he said, voice hoarse.
I shook my head. “We did.”
He smiled, just a little, then pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you,” he said.
I wanted to say it back, but all that came out was a sob. I held him hard until the world stopped spinning.
Beside me, Brie held my hand. She was still shaking, but her eyes were clear.
We were safe. For now.
The van roared to life, tearing down the street and into the waking city. Behind us, the warehouse burned, smoke black against the morning sky.
We didn’t look back.
We didn’t have to.