Chapter 11 #2
Though my heart ached for his loved one, I wouldn’t stand back and allow the men to die while I hid in fear. His eyes held the misery of years, and I silently vowed to stand my ground.
Thunder rumbled outside, almost drowning out the noise of incoming feet. Flashes of lightning lit up the windows, allowing the shadows of our enemies to be seen for seconds at a time. Everyone inside the club took up position, watching the silent figures slither closer. Not a soul dared breathe.
We had enemies coming at us from two sides.
If my nose was correct, over fifteen shifters approached—ten from the front, five in the tunnels.
We were outnumbered. I saw what Turo, one of the bartenders, called the equalizer, strapped under the counter.
He’d probably want to beat my ass when he learned I used his precious AR-15.
What the hell ever that was, but I could give two shits.
All I cared about in that moment was that he always kept a full magazine in it, and Turo had said it was thirty percent more accurate than his AK-47.
The weapon's lightness almost made me drop it. I’d been shooting rifles for years and felt secure that my aim was good enough.
When the first door collapsed under the barrage of wolves, chaos reigned like the storm outside.
Like the hounds of Hell they were, spittle falling from their jaws, they attacked en masse.
I sat with my back to the wall. My one glance around the corner had sent me scuttling back with my borrowed gun in my lap, and I felt like a coward.
The growls and battle sounds were getting louder than the booming thunder outside, drowning out the beating of my heart.
A crash alerted me to the front door breaking down.
The scent of moisture, blown in by the wind, combined with the stench of our enemies, overwhelmed my senses.
My body jerked with each of my pack members’ howls.
Alerted by murmurs of approaching wolves coming around the bar, I tucked myself into a tight ball, inwardly cursing my cowardice.
One hand clasped the gun while I peered out of the small space.
Not two feet from me was a mangy wolf that looked diseased.
His yellow eyes rotated this way and that before he lifted his lips in a snarl, distracted by the smell of liquor.
Behind him, another wolf looking just the same nudged him, swiping at his side with claws not quite as deadly as my own.
The biggest challenge was shooting the gun in a half shift.
Eventually, they moved away, returning as if they sensed something was amiss.
Taking a deep breath, I made sure the gun was ready to fire.
The sound of howls and growls increased.
Even through the mayhem, the two wolves now stalking me weren’t deterred from their search.
It was as if they’d been given my scent.
A knife came sailing by, impaling the wolf closest to me.
He jerked, and his fetid breath reached where I sat.
Turo stomped past, coming from the opposite direction, twisting the downed wolf in one beefy arm before jerking his knife out of the carcass.
The other wolf reared back on his hind legs as Turo motioned him forward, his big body between the wolves and me.
He grunted as the deranged wolf attacked, the small claws leaving a trail of blood across his forearm.
And still I kept to my corner, motionless and quiet.
“You stay down and keep my baby safe. Fire at anything that looks like those fuckers. However, I’m gonna have your brother buy me the next box of bullets.
” His gravelly voice was barely above a whisper.
Turo leaped over the counter in one smooth move.
Whatever had drawn his attention howled in pain and then went silent.
The sound of large claws clacking against the cement flooring had me swiveling to the left.
I raked my gaze from the black claws of a male wolf up to the towering face of pure evil.
He was clearly an alpha with no moral compass, and he knew exactly where I was.
His eyes didn’t skitter back and forth searching—they just zeroed in on my hiding spot.
I jerked back, hoping he didn’t see me, but knew it was useless as the sound of his footfalls came closer.
I jumped up, abandoning my sanctuary, with the AR-15 pointed straight at his chest, which was eye level with my head. Fuck, he was bigger than Kellen and Xan. Keeping my back to the wall, I looked expectantly off to the side. No savior in sight.
Two more leaped over the bar, startling me.
The gun wavered, and then my will to live and fight kicked in.
I smiled the same shit-eating grin that always got me in trouble, a look that set my brother’s back teeth on edge.
The big bad wolf snarled while his two minions scrabbled for purchase.
Lifting the gun to my shoulder, I fired, my aim true.
The kick knocked me off balance for a moment, a distraction that cost me leverage.
A rousing chorus of howls rent the air. My grip on the machine gun didn’t ease, even as the larger wolf jumped on top of me.
With the barrel pointing toward the wall, I eased off the trigger, not wanting to accidentally hit one of my packmates.
His hatred for me was palpable. Blood dripped onto me from a wound in his side.
I wanted to cheer at the damage I’d caused.
“You’re a coward, wolf. You may be the alpha of your pack, but you will never be a real alpha.
You can kill me, but what does that get you?
” I spoke to the wolf, knowing he could hear and understand me.
“I won’t turn my neck. You don’t deserve that distinction,” I spat.