Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Peter!” Regan shouted, struggling in Declan’s crushing hold. “Don’t! It’s—”
But Peter’s stare was locked on Declan, and, dread cutting through her, she saw his trigger finger squeeze.
“No!” a blonde woman in skin-tight denim jeans cried, suddenly charging through the door and leaping at Regan’s brother from behind. She shoved at his shoulder, sending him tumbling forward—the very second he fired his weapon.
A deafening crack filled the air, and a split instant later something small and hot hit Regan in the shoulder. Slamming her backward to the mattress.
“JESUS CHRIST! REGAN! NO!” Peter’s voice, horrified, punched at her ears.
Hot pain ripped through her chest. Up her neck.
“NO!” Declan screamed, staring down at her.
Slow. Everything felt slow. Like some celestial power had decided to mess with time. She frowned up at him, confused. What was going on? Why was Peter screaming “no”? Why was Declan? Who was the blonde? “Declan?” she said, but her voice felt weak. Insubstantial. “Why does my shoulder hurt?”
“Jesus,” he whispered, eyes wide. Wild. “Jesus, love. He shot you.” Fury fell over his face—cold and murderous—and those traumatized grey eyes changed. To the savage, silver eyes of the wolf. He swung his head to the side…
…and time caught up.
“You fucking bastard!” he roared.
He leapt off her, and just as his words sank into Regan’s confusion, just as the pain in her shoulder erupted into unbearable agony, she saw him transform. One second a man, the next a wild, mammoth wolf.
Lunging straight for her brother.
The massive animal struck Peter in the chest, sending him reeling backward.
“Declan, no!” she yelled, struggling to sit up.
White pain exploded in her shoulder. Black stars exploded in her head.
She cried out, dropping back to the mattress, bolts of agony tearing through her as she watched Declan—now more than a wolf, now something from a nightmare—snap at Peter’s neck with wickedly pointed teeth.
Eyes bulging, Peter whipped his head away staggering under the weight of the attacking creature.
His broad back smacked into the wall, his thick, muscled arms flailing wildly at Declan, barely deflecting his snapping muzzle and lashing claws.
Her brother was huge—a childhood spent wrestling wayward bulls and cows, and an adulthood spent wrestling the scum of the city wouldn’t let him be any other way—but Declan, or the creature Declan had become was bigger. And more deadly.
“Declan!” Regan pushed herself upright. Agony ripped through her. Bright red blood pumped from her shoulder, warm and wet. The sharp sting of copper bit at her sinuses, but she didn’t care. She had to stop her lover killing her brother. “Declan! Stop it!”
The creature swung its head toward her, insane silver eyes shimmering for a second with confused lucidity.
And Peter struck out. His booted foot landed in Declan’s gut with a whoosh and the werewolf stumbled backward, a growl of surprised anger bursting from its lathering muzzle.
Its hackles rose, its clawed fingers curled into tight fists and it leapt forward again.
Meeting Peter’s own attacking lunge in mid-air.
Regan’s blood turned to ice. Oh, God. She had to stop this. She had to—
Two strong hands curled around her wrists. “You are Peter’s sister, yes?”
She snapped her head around, gazing at the worried blonde crouched beside her. “Who…” she began, tugging at the woman’s hold on her wrists. “How did you find…”
The blonde’s attention flicked to Regan’s shoulder before returning to her face.
“Your boyfriend, the vet.” Her fingernails dug deeper into Regan’s wrists, an ambiguous gleam in her blue eyes.
“Lucky for Peter, he called.” She sprang into an alert stance, jerking painfully on Regan’s arms as she did so.
She shot Declan and Peter a hurried glance. “You have to come with me.”
Regan shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere.” She yanked her arms downward, but the blonde’s grip only grew tighter. “Let me go.” She glared at the woman. “What did you mean, lucky for Peter? Who are you?”
“Run, Reggie!” Peter’s scream rose over Declan’s deafening growls, over the smashing of furniture. “Get away!”
Regan tugged on the woman’s wrists, flinging her stare to her brother.
Declan had him pinned to the wall, teeth-filled muzzle snapping at his face, claws tearing at his shoulders. “Declan! He’s my brother! Leave him alone!”
“Reggie!” Peter roared back, drenched in sweat and blood, wild green stare fixed on the creature attacking him. “Get away! Get away NOW!”
“Yes.” The blonde pulled at Regan’s wrists. “Come with me. Your brother wants you to.”
Fury and fear pounded through her veins. “Let me go!” she snarled, twisting at her punishing grip. “Let me—” Suddenly cold realization hit her. She stared at the woman, every fiber of her being turning to ice. “You didn’t freak out when Declan transformed,” she whispered.
Blood-red lips curled in a slow smile. “No,” she growled, eyes dilating. Changing. From blue to golden-amber. An animal’s eyes. A wolf’s eyes. “I didn’t.” With unnatural strength, she yanked Regan to her feet. “And whether you like it or not, you’re coming with me.”
“Declan!” Regan screamed, heels scuffing the floor, seeking traction. “Peter!”
“Go, Reggie!” Peter yelled back. Just as the creature—Declan—sank his claws into Peter’s shoulders and flung him across the room.
The woman hauled on her wrists, pulled her off her feet. “Yes. Let’s go.”
“Fuck off,” Regan snarled, and smashed her forehead into the blonde’s.
Bright, white pain erupted in her head. Blinding stars burst before her eyes. She staggered backward, eyes closed, feeling like she’d run headfirst into a brick wall.
The grip on her wrists squeezed tighter. “This is how you do it, human,” the blonde drawled, yanking Regan forward and slamming her forehead into the bridge of Regan’s nose.
Agony detonated in her head. Consuming, absolute agony. The world turned to a thick, dark, silent fog and she slumped forward. Straight into the blonde’s snatching arms. A long, savage and blood-curdling howl filled her ears.
Declan…
Followed by a single shot from a gun.
Peter…No…
And then nothing.
Only blackness.
Peter smashed into the wall. Blood streamed from a gash in his forehead, stinging his eyes.
He stumbled to his feet, swiping at his face, desperate to clear his vision.
The animal—the creature—circled him on long hind legs, wild silver stare boring into him like a drill, teeth dripping saliva.
Its massive chest rose and fell, each breath it pulled forcing fresh blood from the wound high on its chest. But it didn’t seem to notice.
Peter sucked in his own ragged breaths. Christ!
He’d shot the fucking thing point-blank in its heart and nothing.
His blood ran cold. Was this the man who’d abducted Reggie? This monster? He gripped his gun tighter. “What the fuck are you?”
The creature bared its fangs and lunged.
Peter dropped into a crouch just as the animal slammed into his bunched shoulder, sending him to the floor. He twisted, striking out at its soft underbelly with his heel, desperate to get back on his feet. The animal flipped in the air, landed on all fours and came at him again.
He scrambled backward, staring at the creature through blood and sweat.
It launched itself through the air, hideously clawed fingers sinking into his shoulders as it drove him to the ground.
Claws like steel punctured his flesh, stabbed into his muscle.
He bucked, thrashing under the thing’s massive weight, tearing pain ripping through him. Fuck! He had to get it off.
Wicked teeth snapped at his face and he flinched, hot saliva splattering his cheek.
His blood pumped from the holes in his shoulder, the wound on his forehead.
He gazed up at the creature through a translucent crimson curtain.
He’d fought with some mean bastards before—both in training and on the job, but nothing like this.
Currents of agony tore through his arms but he continued to fight. He had to get the thing off him.
He writhed underneath it, striking out with his foot, his knee.
Each made connection, but the animal didn’t budge.
Jesus, was it real? He shoved at its chest, his palms mashing against muscle that felt like hot steel covered in fur.
If he could get his gun to its head…If he could just blow the fucker’s brain out.
He moved his arm a fraction. And stopped the second pointed teeth almost tore a chunk of his face out. Fuck. It was no use. It was only by sheer muscle and frantic determination he kept the animal from tearing out his throat. How the hell was he to move enough to shoot the thing in the head?
Energy poured from him in draining, depleting waves.
Joining his blood in its exodus of his body.
He tossed his head to the side, desperate to see if his partner had dragged his sister from the room.
A flash of blonde running through the door made his heart burst with relief. “Run, Yolanda! Get her away!”
The creature froze above him, its silver stare locked on his, burning with hate. Peter tensed. Christ, I’m dead. The wild eyes grew wider, and suddenly a slight shudder rippled through its form.
The hideous, elongated limbs shivered, the fur covered muscles rippled again, and then it was a man staring down at him.
Not a monster but a man, dripping in sweat and blood, fingers digging painfully into Peter’s arms, knees ramming into his thigh and hip.
The very man who’d been lying on the bed with Reggie, pinning her to the mattress.
“Yolanda?” he snarled, the sound animalistic.
Peter gazed up at him, incapable of speech. Incapable of anything, in fact.
“Yolanda?” The man growled again, more human this time.