Chapter 4 #3
He didn’t answer. Not until the Sydney Harbor Bridge and the expanse of water it spanned was long behind them, the pick-up heading through the opulent northern suburbs at kamikaze speeds.
“I don’t know what to do or say to convince you you’re in danger, Regan,” he said, voice low, accent thicker than ever.
“Save drive to Epoc himself and there’s not a chance in hell I’m doing that.
” His gaze flicked to her and Regan sucked in a swift breath at the turbulent desire she saw in his eyes’ stormy depths.
“As for making you come…I’ve wanted to do that from the second I saw you in Epoc’s lab.
Covered head to toe in black, risking your life to save a—”
An explosive crunch cut his words dead. As did the lurching jolt of the pick-up.
Regan grabbed the dash, heart thumping up into her throat, seatbelt biting into her neck. “What the hell?” The car jolted again and this time, she saw why.
A black van charged along the road beside them, crumpled nose almost level with theirs. Almost. It swerved, a violent and deliberate arc. There was a deafening bang, the sickening squeal of metal on metal filled the cab, and the mechanic’s pick-up shuddered.
“Fuck,” Declan growled.
Regan’s heart hammered, hot rage roaring through her veins. “They’re trying to run us off the road!”
The van crashed into them again and Declan let out a sharp snarl. Sweat popping out on his forehead, he spun the wheel to the right. “The fucker found us quicker than I thought.”
Another crunching collision jarred them, hard enough to make Regan’s skull smack the side window.
Her teeth snapped shut on her bottom lip and the coppery ting of blood slicked her tongue.
Head throbbing, she watched Declan fling the pick-up up a narrow side street.
She held on for dear life as the now badly beaten automobile tilted so far to the left, its right tires lost contact with the road and the world abruptly skewed on its axis.
“Who’s found us?” she demanded. “Who’s in that van? ”
Tires screeching, the van followed. Gaining.
Declan’s jaw clenched and his knuckles grew whiter. “McCoy.”
Regan blinked. “Who the fuck is McCoy?”
Declan didn’t answer. Slamming his foot to the accelerator, he pushed the pick-up harder, its finely worked engine roaring to new life just as McCoy’s van rammed straight into the back of it.
The pick-up lurched forward violently, careening into a RV parked at the curb.
More metal screamed, the hood concertinaed, the windshield shattered into a thousand pieces and, before Regan could scream, the pick-up spun into a sickeningly fast one-eighty, slammed into another parked car and jolted to a shuddering halt.
“Get out!”
Declan was growling at her before her head stopped spinning.
“Get out! Get out now!”
He turned in his seat, raised his knees up to his chest and struck out at Regan’s door with his heels. It flung open, the sharp ting of salt air biting immediately at her sinuses as summer flooded into the cab.
“Get out, Regan,” He ordered, ripping her seatbelt off and shoving her from the car. “We’ve got to run.”
Regan stumbled across the footpath, swiping at the small trickle of blood running down her temple. “Jesus. What…” Her head felt like it was about to erupt. “What…”
A demoniac, bestial growl assaulted her ears and her stomach dropped. Oh, no.
“Regan!” Declan grabbed her arm. Stared hard into her eyes. “Run!”
He shoved her away and spun about.
Just as a man, roughly the size of a gorilla threw himself against his body.
The pair rolled across the ground, crashed against the mechanic’s crumpled pick-up. A howl filled the air. Loud and piercing. Followed by a growl equally as loud.
People—curious about the noise and carnage—began to appear on the surrounding footpaths, more than one gasping and calling for someone to call the cops, but Regan couldn’t move, unable to drag her stare from the sight before her.
The brutish man forced Declan to the ground, driving punch after punch into his chest, face and ribs. “Thought you’d get away from us, you dumb-fuck, Irish shit.”
Declan struck back. “You been rolling in your own filth again, McCoy?”
McCoy bared vicious canines, a chilling snarl cutting the air. He grabbed at Declan’s throat, his long, thick fingers sinking into the corded column.
Regan’s blood turned to ice. “Declan!”
McCoy’s head shot up, burning red-gold eyes fixing on her. “She’s a sexy piece of ass, O’Connell. I’m going to enjoy fucking her.”
A growl ripped from Declan’s throat. He whipped his knees up to his chest and rammed his feet into McCoy’s gut, launching him into the air.
The snarling man flew high. And transformed—mid-arc—into a huge, charcoal-grey wolf.
The street erupted. Squeals and cries of shock rent the air, followed by the sound of feet pounding the pavement as the terrified onlookers fled.
Regan staggered backward, heart pounding beneath her breast, eyes fixed on the slathering wolf staring at her.
“Regan!” Declan roared. “Run!”
She shot him a frantic look. In time to see his body shimmer as he transformed into the massive wolf she’d first seen caged in Epoc’s lab.
Regan. Run.
The words sounded in her head—but whether in her voice or Declan’s she couldn’t tell.
It didn’t matter. The snarl bursting from McCoy’s muzzle set her feet in motion.
She turned and sprinted away from the two wolves.
But not before seeing the frightening grey wolf—Declan—leap at the even bigger wolf preparing to pounce on her.
She tore down the deserted street, the sound of fighting wolves almost drowning out the screech of the ubiquitous cicadas and the squeal of an approaching siren. Her feet stumbled at the ominous wail and a picture of Declan shot dead by cops filled her head. Bloody Hell. Declan. What am I doing?
Run!
The bellow filled her head. Desperate. Furious.
Heart pounding, mouth dry, she took off again, vaulting a low corner fence, heading deeper into suburbia. Lush, opulent, ridiculously expensive suburbia.
With the growls, snarls and howls of Declan and McCoy in her ears.
The low branches of an ancient Morton Bay fig hid her. She stood, palms pressed to her bent knees, sucking in breath after breath in an attempt to ease her frantic pulse. Peering through the foliage-dense branches brushing her cheeks and shoulders, Regan watched the path.
She heard nothing but the screech of cicadas.
What if Declan was dead? What would she do?
A sharp shard of ice stabbed at her thumping heart at the thought and she shook her head. No. He couldn’t be. Not after all this. Not after dragging her into this craziness. He wouldn’t dare.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, staring down the path she’d sprinted up not fifteen minutes ago, willing him to be there. Wolf or man, she didn’t care, as long as he was there.
A hot, summer gust brought with it a distant siren, the wail a long way off but still making Regan’s chest clench. C’mon, Declan. C’mon. Don’t leave me like this…
The fervent order made Regan blink and she snorted with wry amusement. Only a short while ago she was trying to get away from him. Now…
A faint rustle down the street made her tense and she shrank closer to the fig’s colossal trunk, making herself as invisible as possible.
A woman jogged by, decked out in designer sportswear with thin, white cords dangling from her ears to the slim MP3 player on her arm.
Regan let out a silent sigh, slumping against the rough trunk pressing her ass.
What should she do? Go looking for him? Keep running? Call Peter?
Peter. Damnit, he’d be tearing the city apart by now.
And she’d missed lunch with Rick. Who knew what he’d be—
A prickling sensation rippled up her spine and she felt eyes on her. Stiffening, Regan straightened from the trunk and saw the wolf. Staring at her through the concealing branches of the fig tree.
Mottled shadows played over the animal’s coat.
Made it impossible to know just which wolf had found her.
Throat tight, mouth dry, Regan studied it.
She couldn’t run. Not if it was Declan coming to her.
But what if it’s McCoy? Her pulse leapt into erratic life and she squeezed her fists tight.
Ready to fight. Hoping she didn’t need to. “Declan?”
Wicked, blood-smeared teeth flashed at her, and a soft growl rumbled low in the animal’s chest.
“Declan?”
The wolf’s haunches bunched, its muzzle creased.
Regan sucked in a short breath, lifting her fists.
Adrenaline surged through her. And then she gasped in relief as a slight tremble shook the animal’s body and Declan stood before her.
Naked once more, covered in cuts and bruises, the wound on his side weeping fresh blood again.
Silver eyes shimmered to grey and his lips curled into a dark grin. “I’m going to need to find some new clothes.”