Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
SANTIAGO
Kade finishes off the countdown, his last finger dropping before he disappears over the edge. The near-polar conditions make visibility hard, not that it matters. I could be blindfolded and with a bag over my head, and I’d still be able to track the men breaking into Petrov's house.
I’m not responsive to them, but every cell in my body, every thought in my head is homed in on her like an arrow.
Of course, whoever these pricks are, they’re about to be dead pricks.
I’m not into torture, as such, but I know they’ll be suffering for terrorizing her like this. How fucking dare they? Instead of being real fucking men and using the front door, they’re playing stupid games.
Once I’m finished with them, I’ll move on to every fucking person on Petrov’s payroll before hunting down the cockhead himself because, ultimately, he is responsible for her well-being while she’s a guest at his house.
I don’t give a shit if it was her choice to stay here alone and unprotected; he still has an obligation to keep her safe.
The feral pack of dogs running wild on his property does not qualify.
I follow one of the masked assailants as he climbs off the roof and disappears inside. I trace his exact steps, and he doesn’t suspect a thing.
Considering how much noise he’s making as he walks confidently, he knows she’s alone, but he also knows the layout of the house. I watch from a distance and I only stop following him when something up ahead makes him lose his confidence.
He starts to backtrack, one slow inch at a time. He also starts speaking; his words aren’t important, since the flood of panic and desperation perfuming the air is what I focus on.
He stops moving and starts trying to squeeze himself into a small alcove. It’s a stupid place to hole up in; he would have been better to use the room to his left. I watch him taking a deep breath before he pulls up his arm, trying to line up a shot, but he can’t hold his trembling hand still.
Unlike him, I can hold my aim, and I also don’t hesitate. I fire, and he grunts as I hit him. I fire again, hitting the same area I did before, forcing him from his cover.
He slips on something, and he windmills his arms, like he’s trying to avoid falling as he starts to scurry towards me, which is real fucking stupid. But something in front of him scares him more than I do.
Something leaps at him, and then his frantic shouting is cut off.
I stay where I am and watch as the dog shakes its head, rag-dolling the man dangling from his jaws.
The man screams in agony but is unable to free himself from the dog's clutches. The dog shakes his head when the man’s fighting picks up again, but after another violent and prolonged shake, the grunts of pain get quickly lost under the dog's snarling.
And the whole time, the black dog is watching me.
His eyes are full of the same cold intensity I’ve seen in highly trained hitmen or soldiers.
In different circumstances, and after seeing the dog, I’d be tempted to take off, but I’m not leaving Quinn. I’m so close, I can scent her. Her unique vanilla fragrance fills my lungs with each inhale and exhale I take, hammering home the bond we share.
She’s stressed and scared, her scent different to the creamy warmth that coated my senses, my mouth, and knot back at the hotel. Even with the caustic proof of her fear, her heady vanilla perfume guides me like a lighthouse in a storm.
The animal lets go of the dead man and stands to full height. The black of his fur, coupled with the darkness in the hallway, makes it appear he’s part of the shadows, which explains how the now-dead idiot missed him.
The beast stares me down and bares his teeth in silent warning, sending a message more obvious than if he spoke.
It’s rare to see an animal so well trained.
One second, it’s looking at me like it’s assessing ways to kill me, and the next second it acts as if I am not even there, racing back from where it came without making a single fucking sound.
It’s something you’d have to see to understand because it makes no sense, given the dog's size.
But it’s headed the way I need to go. I trail after the dog at a semi-safe distance, and as I come to a junction—where three corridors merge to a large landing area—I realize I’ve been herded.
Another dog, equally intimidating but slightly smaller, stands in wait.
The black dog disappeared and reappeared behind me to block my escape.
They move as one, barely audible growls coming from them both as they start working together in taking me down.
I aim my gun at the smaller one, since the color of its fur makes it easier to follow. I don’t want to shoot, but I will. My back is to the wall, making it hard to watch them both, but harder for them to attack too. My heart is in my fucking throat. I’m in serious danger.
From downstairs, something heavy moves. We all twist to listen. Another noise follows, but it’s closer. The dogs and I go from foes to something else as we race towards the sound of people fighting.
My stomach bottoms when Kade races up a set of stairs and joins us.
He’s been fighting and has smears of blood on his face and hands.
He doesn’t explain what’s going on, and I don’t warn him about the dogs, but the dogs don’t immediately attack.
Collectively, we realize the second noise we heard must have come from up here, and if we’re all looking at each other and the sounds keep happening, it means Quinn’s alone and she’s being attacked.
We run as one, all of us trying to outrace the other. The dogs beat us. Not by much, but by enough.
Kade and I burst into the room, and Quinn’s on the floor, wrestling with the black dog.
For a second, I think the dog is attacking her, but then I see she’s actually fighting the black dog.
She’s got her fingers in its jaws, trying to pry its massive jaw open from how it’s latched around another person’s throat.
“I swear, if you kill him…” She snarls, pushing her head against the side of the dog's head, trying to make him drop the body. The other dog keeps rushing in, and Quinn uses her foot like a shield. “Nalla! Back off. Seriously, if you bite me, I’ll bite you back. We need this one alive.”
She doesn’t even seem to register that we’re here until Kade sits on the opposite side of her. She makes a strangled scream, but she doesn’t stop trying to pry the dog's jaw open.
“Quinny!” Kade shouts, “Fucking stop! He’s going to fucking bite off your fingers!”
It’s a chaotic scene. The five of them are bucking, trying to free or hold on, making enough noise to wake the dead. Quinn’s voice is the loudest as she shouts at the big dog while he continues snarling back at her in warning, staring her down while refusing to open his mouth.
I walk closer, and the dogs track my movement, though they don’t move at me. Kade’s trying to catch Quinn's attention, but she’s blatantly ignoring him, intent on keeping the man alive by wrestling him free.
The man is thrashing around, trying to free himself, which only fuels the already pissed-off dog.
The lighter-colored dog is dancing around close to Kade, while positioning itself defensively and protectively.
Without question, the dog is constantly assessing and adjusting its stance to keep Quinn, and the black dog, as protected as possible.
It’s pandemonium and does my fucking head in.
I can’t cope with how close she is to being hurt.
The double bang, bang of my gun stops everything, and stills the prick who was attacking her.
Quinn screeches in her fear, but at least she lets go of the dog and rolls up to sit. She’s more shocked than I anticipated, or the scare of the gun going off has shaken her badly, because each time she looks at either Kade or me, she shakes her head.
And then it must register. Her expression changes, and instead of looking confused, she glares at me before doing the same at Kade.
Putting my gun away, I bury my hands in my pockets, so I don’t rush over and wrap them around her face and whisper my apology against her mouth. I wait until she’s glaring at me and not looking at Kade, “Hey, bebe. Sorry we’re late, the weather was atrocious.”
Quinn just stares at me. And stares. Then stares some more.
She slowly climbs to her feet, and the dogs move to stand around her protectively. She ignores how close they are to her, drilling her pretty eyes at me as she takes a series of long, slow breaths, like she’s trying to stop an avalanche.
A very plastic smile ruins her pretty features, and she doesn’t bother to hide her irritation in her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
My phone rings, and I don’t need to glance at the screen to know who it is. “Quinn, sorry. I need to take this.”
I hold a finger to my mouth, hoping it keeps everyone quiet as I flip the call to hands-free. In fluent Spanish—for her benefit, not his—I answer. “Hola, senor. Ya llegamos. ?Le gustaría hablar con su hija?”
“Put her on the line,” Victor yaps like a small chihuahua.
I pass her my phone. Quinn looks ready to erupt, but she tucks her anger away and becomes a different version of herself. “Victor.”
“Sergey said you refused to accompany him on his business trip.”
Quinn closes her eyes and grits her teeth so hard, I worry they’ll break.
But what’s worse is the way she doesn’t jump in dramatically to defend herself.
Her reaction doesn’t at all match the woman who confidently soaked my knot or just tried to murder me with her eyes.
“Were you calling to ask me if that’s what happened or tell me, Victor? ”
“You need to remember who you’re speaking with,” he lashes back, making her smile.
“I could offer the same. Anyway, now’s probably not the best time.” Her voice drops, becoming saccharine sweet, but her eyes are locked on mine, and there’s nothing sweet about the look she’s giving. “The guards you sent just arrived.”
She ends the call with a flick of her hand. My phone is sailing towards me like a rocket.
I catch it one-handed, triple-checking that Victor’s call has been disconnected. “Bebe, don’t antagonize the bad man.”
It’s like a switch flicks as something changes and her mood lightens. She still ignores me for the most part.
Quinn turns and waves her hand. “Come on, Nalla. I need to go to my room to get some things to save this shithead's life until your owner returns. Tell your boyfriend not to eat him while we’re gone.”
She gives the lighter-colored dog a shove with her hip, moving her into action before walking out of the room.
“Excuse me?!” Kade hisses, but she’s already gone and clearly misses what he says. He looks at me, though, disbelief etched on his face before he does a small shake of his head. “Of course, she’s going to try to save him.”
“She’s a doctor?” I ask like an idiot.
Kade rolls his eyes and sarcasm twists his scent, even before he’s said a word. “You’re the one calling her baby.”
“Bebe, actually. And that means…”
The judgmental Beta looks me up and down, smug as fuck when he speaks. “I thought you knew her pretty well, with all that love bombing you got going on.”
He hops up and disappears out the door. But since the door is open, I can see him falter once he’s out of the room. He doesn’t charge after her; he waits in the hallway.
Instead of going after either of them for answers, I deal with the piece of shit whining like a bitch.
Since we’re suddenly alone, I press my hand over his knee, asking who he’s working for.
I try first in English, and then I try Spanish, finally using Google Translate for a Russian version, but he keeps avoiding answering.
So, I keep pressing down until he passes out.
I search him for weapons, ID, anything to tell me who he is. I only find a phone.
The whole time, the dog stares me down again.
Clearly, this dog is an Alpha. There’s no fear in his eyes or any self-preservation, really. He sees himself as the top dog, and I’ll eventually have to sort out that hierarchical bullshit with him because I’m not about to share the top spot with him—or anyone.
In the hallway, I can see Kade talking softly to Quinn, and I can admit, it stirs jealousy. I’m aware they had some sort of relationship, but Kade refused to say much about it or anything about her. And while I didn’t appreciate his lack of sharing at all, I get where he was coming from.
If anything, the way he was protective of their time together, and insistent on her privacy, made me respect him a little more.
When they walk back in, the change in Quinn is obvious. Her hair is pulled back off her face and tied down in a low bun. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say she’s in work mode.
Over her shoulder, she’s got clean towels, and in her hands, she’s got a collection of things resembling a badly put-together first-aid kit.
“Can you get some hot water for me, please?”
Kade’s gone before I can offer to do it.
She kneels on the floor next to her attacker, and without waiting, she grips the torn fabric of his pants and rips them open. Interestingly, she doesn’t jump immediately into action. She sits back, her thoughts ticking loudly as she assesses his injuries before she decides what she’s going to do.
“Take a few steps back. You’re crowding me.” She looks up and speaks to the dogs, then turns to include me.
We all move.
As soon as Kade arrives back with a bucket of hot water, Quinn dives into the task with focused precision.
And it’s a sight to see. Not once does she hesitate or alter what she’s doing.
It’s like she’s worked through the process in her head, can see what needs to be done step by step, and won’t let anything distract her focus.
“You’re not a normal doctor, are you?” I ask, only when she’s finished.
Kade laughs quietly, again looking at me like I’m an idiot. “The sooner you realize there’s nothing normal about Quinn, the less you’re going to embarrass yourself.”