Chapter Twenty-Four
With his SIG in the high-ready position, Erik crept around backstage.
He could hear Chloe singing, and for the first time since he met her, he didn’t take that extra moment to drink in the beauty and power of her voice.
Catching a familiar scent nearby, he cursed as he headed that way.
Goddammit. Lattimer was supposed to be safely hidden under his desk in his office, not crouched behind sound equipment, armed with what looked like a prop sword.
As Lattie began to stand, Erik put a finger to his lips and motioned with his other hand for the man to stay down. Lattimer nodded, and satisfied he’d stay put, Erik moved on, concealing himself in a pocket of shadow where he had a good view of the stage.
The Beasts who could heal could survive that shot.
They’d be out of commission for a good long while as their body repaired the damage, and would likely suffer memory loss from the trauma – as had happened not too long ago with Lark when she took two rounds to the head on a mission – but Jayla couldn’t heal like they did.
She must have felt his gaze. Her eyes opened, with no sign of disorientation, as she pinpointed his location even in the low light. She’d been playing possum, letting Savoy think she was unconscious. He nodded to her, and she blinked slowly in reply. When he made his move, she’d be ready.
Erik needed a distraction, something to pull Savoy’s attention.
His eyes rose to the catwalk high above.
He could get up there, make some noise, maybe drop something, and jump down on Savoy as soon as he turned his weapon away from Jayla.
The landing would hurt like a bitch, would definitely break some bones.
He didn’t have the feline DNA like Jace and Leo, who could make that jump look easy.
The decision was taken out of his hands.
Something large crashed just out of view on the other side of the stage.
Fucking Lattie. The man was determined to get himself killed.
Chloe’s singing abruptly cut off with a small, startled yelp.
Savoy’s weapon hand swung in the direction the noise had come from, and Erik had the shot.
But in that split-second, something came over him.
Something primal. Something he didn’t fully understand.
He didn’t want to put a bullet in Savoy’s head.
That would be too easy, too quick, too merciful.
Erik wanted to kill Savoy with his bare hands.
He charged forward, closing the distance, and in his periphery, he saw Jayla snap her restraints and roll to her feet. Savoy spun on Erik and fired. One shot went wide, the other punched into his shoulder, but he didn’t slow down. His body collided with Savoy’s, driving them both to the floor.
On the edge of his vision, he saw Jayla grab Chloe, ducking her low and hustling her off stage while Lattie frantically motioned them toward him and safety.
Erik slammed Savoy’s weapon hand against the stage, once, twice, bone meeting wood, and the pistol discharged, the shot hitting close enough to the women to make Chloe scream.
“Chloe?!”
“We’re fine!” Jayla shouted back. “Finish him!”
Erik and Savoy grappled as they both fought for the upper hand.
Savoy was fast and brutal as he landed in the top position; each strike felt like a blow from a sledgehammer.
Blood filled Erik’s mouth, his cheek burned from where Savoy had laid it open with his fist, and his shoulder throbbed.
Erik blocked a grab for his throat and countered with a hard knee to Savoy’s ribs, then slammed a hand into the man’s already broken nose.
Savoy reared back with a shout, one hand covering his face, but he recovered quickly. Erik bellowed as white-hot agony seared him. Savoy’s thumb had found the bullet wound in his shoulder and dug deep.
The man bared his teeth, reveling in the pain he was causing, until his gaze flicked to Erik’s cheek. The bleeding stopped, the torn flesh sealed. Erik saw the shock in the man’s eyes and took advantage. He twisted, threw Savoy off, and both men scrambled to their feet.
Savoy drew a tactical Bowie as they circled each other.
“What the hell are you?!” He lunged, slashing, and the carbon steel blade sliced Erik’s palm, then bit into his forearm.
The wounds closed, and Savoy’s disbelief turned to fear.
Erik used it. Rushing Savoy, he seized the man’s wrist, turned into his body, and broke the forearm mid-shaft.
The man screamed as bone tore through flesh and blood bloomed through Savoy’s sleeve.
Erik snatched the knife, and in a quick thrust, he drove it up under Savoy’s ribs, angled for the heart.
Savoy let out a strangled, gurgling sound as blood bubbled from his lips. His eyes were wide with shock, his voice barely a whisper as he forced out, “What… are you?”
A monster was on the tip of his tongue until, for an instant, Erik saw Chloe’s face and heard her voice in his memory. “Erik, you’re a survivor too.” He leaned in close to Savoy, his voice low and steady. “I’m a survivor.”
With a last rattling exhale, the light went out of Savoy’s eyes.
It was over. Dropping the body, Erik felt the pressure increase in his shoulder as his healing ability pushed the bullet out.
The slug expelled, rolled down his pec, and hit the stage with a quiet ping as muscle and skin knitted closed.
He’d need to call Black Bay, get a cleanup crew here, but first, he wanted to check on Chloe.
He found her backstage, and for a brief moment, his brain couldn’t register what he was seeing.
She was on the floor, on her knees, a phone to her ear as tears streamed down her stricken face.
Lattie was directly across from her, kneeling, his ascot removed, and between them was Jayla’s prone body, Lattie’s hands clamped over her lower back as dark red liquid oozed out underneath his palms.
“Jayla!”
Racing forward, he dropped down beside her, close to her head, and took her hand in his. Jayla’s blue eyes, when she opened them, were bloodshot and hazy with pain. “Bastard… shot me.”
“Stay with me, Jayla.”
She tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace. “Where… would I go? Can’t… move.”
With his free hand, he ripped out his phone and used a voice command to call Black Bay as Chloe’s voice penetrated his brain.
She was on the phone with 911 dispatch. She’d called an ambulance.
When his call connected, he barked, “This is Shadow Two. Shadow One’s down, I repeat, Jayla’s down.
Gunshot wound to the back. I need immediate medevac.
” He rattled off the address. “LZ is secure, and local paramedics are inbound.”
“Copy, Shadow Two. Air transport en route. Have medics prep for transfer.”
Call ended, he dropped his phone and leaned in close to Jayla’s ear. “Bird’s inbound, Jayla. Hold on.”
His grip tightened on her hand, and he found the pulse in her neck with the fingers of his other hand.
Jayla squeezed her eyes shut, a tear spilling over.
Her face was pale, tight with pain, and she was breathing in short, shallow bursts.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but he heard her. “I can’t… feel… my legs.”
Fuck! FUCK!
This was on him. If he had taken that shot…
Lattie shifted, pressing harder on the wound. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears as they met Erik’s. “She’s losing a lot of blood.”
“Keep the pressure on. I can hear the sirens.”
Lattie nodded rapidly as a tear streaked down his face.
The sirens blared, drawing closer, and he told Jayla, “I need to go meet the ambulance.”
She nodded just slightly, and her weak grasp on his hand released.
Erik stood. “Keep the pressure on until they tell you to move,” he told Lattie.
To Chloe, he said, “I need you to get clear, give them room to work.” He helped her to her feet and pulled her off to the side.
Quietly, he asked, “Are you okay? Were you hurt?” She was shaking, likely in shock, but he couldn’t see any injuries.
She shook her head, her teary eyes never leaving Jayla.
The ambulance was pulling in. “I need to get outside.”
Rushing out the door, he met the two-person team. “Just inside,” he told them. “Female, thirty-three, GSW to the lower back, no exit, possible spinal involvement. Conscious, but losing blood. Military medevac inbound. We need you to prep for handoff.”
As they rushed inside, Erik waited for the helicopter to flag it since he didn’t have smoke to pop.
But for the three vehicles parked close to the building, the back lot was empty, leaving plenty of room for the bird to land.
As he waited, his mind played on an obsessive loop.
He’d done this. He’d cost Jayla her legs.
He saw Chloe come out, her arms hugged tightly around herself. She was shivering, and he reached into the back of the ambulance for a Mylar blanket, draping it over her shoulders and keeping his arm around her. “How are you holding up?”
She didn’t look up at him, but stared straight ahead. “Did you kill him?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Is Jayla going to be okay?”
“She’s a Beast. She was made tough.”
Another nod, and Chloe finally looked up at him. “What happens now?”
He knew she wasn’t asking about the next few minutes or hours. “Now, you take your life back.”
“And you? Will you be in that life?”
“If you’ll have me.” Leaning down, he captured her lips with his. Chloe turned into his embrace, her mouth opening for him as she wrapped an arm around him and pressed her body against his.
He picked up the low thump-thump of rotor blades in the distance and broke the kiss to look up at the sky. “That’s Jayla’s ride.”
Chloe stayed close to him as they watched the approach. The helicopter angled in, kicking up dust in the downdraft, and Erik shielded her with his body.
Leo was the first out, followed by Perrin, and then Black Bay’s paramedics disembarked. The medics rushed inside.
“What happened?” Perrin asked, her voice raised to be heard over the noise of the rotors.
“Jayla was extracting Chloe when she was struck by a stray bullet.”
Perrin’s lips pressed tightly together in a grimace as she nodded.
Leo emerged from the building, followed by the medics carrying a stretcher.
Jayla was strapped in, ready to fly, with an oxygen mask covering the lower portion of her face.
Erik followed, and once she was secured inside, he took her hand.
Her eyes were closed, her fingers were icy cold, and her skin was too pale.
“We gotta go, sir!”
He nodded and leaned in close to Jayla’s ear. “You hang in there. You hear me? You’re not done yet.”
Her eyes opened, and he saw her lips curve through the clear plastic mask as she squeezed his fingers.
“I’ll see you soon.”
Releasing her, he moved back, giving the helicopter room to lift off, and returned to Chloe’s side.
“You didn’t want to go with her?” Chloe asked once the noise from the helicopter had faded enough for her to speak without raising her voice.
He did, but just because Savoy was dead didn’t mean Erik’s job was finished. He still needed to brief the general, arrange a clean-up, and secure both Chloe and Lattie. “I’ll see her later. Once she’s stable.”
“I want to go with you.”