25. Cart-napped
CART-NAPPED
Emre froze, his jaw dropping. “Hey! Cart! Come back!”
The cart did not stop. It was speeding away, Emre’s pups getting further and further with each passing second.
Zenith was already chasing down the cart. Emre broke into a run after them.
“It’s kidnapping the pups!” Emre realized. “Oh gods, we’re in a romance novel!”
The pups looked back at him and howled.
“Bad cart! Such a bad cart!”
Up ahead, Zenith was cursing. The alpha put on a burst of speed. Except the cart went faster too, keeping just out of Zenith’s reach.
Emre’s shoes pounded on asphalt. Where was the cart going? Had someone given the cart instructions to take away Emre’s pups?
Then it struck him.
Ronald?
Ice shot through his veins, at the same time the cart took a sharp turn into an alley.
Zenith followed. Emre’s stomach clenched.
Bad things always happened in alleys.
Should he follow Zenith into the alley? Or should he wait out on the street as hidden backup?
What can I even do, aside from creating a distraction?
In any case, it was a good idea to stay out of sight. Emre dropped to a crouch and peeked around the corner.
The alley led to a dead end. At the very far end was Ronald, that proud sneer sending a bolt of disgust down Emre’s spine. Ronald didn’t look much different from the last time Emre had seen him. Those cruel glinting eyes, those rough hands ready to bring Emre pain.
“Ah, pups,” Ronald said, grabbing the cart that rolled up to him. Emre hated that he’d taught Ronald how to befriend carts. “I heard they’re mixed breeds. They’ll sell for a lot.”
Anger speared through Emre’s gut, at the same time Zenith snarled.
“Return them to me,” Zenith growled, taking a step forward. “They’re not yours.”
“They’re not yours either,” Ronald retorted.
Zenith clenched his fists. Emre could feel Zenith’s anger; he could feel Zenith’s dilemma, too.
Trapped in the dead end like he was, Ronald had precious few ways to escape. But that also meant Zenith had limited options to attack, and Ronald had the pups with him.
The easy solution would be to breathe fire on everything—Ronald, the cart, the pups—except only Abbie would be unharmed. Bean didn’t have the same fire immunity his sister did.
I need to help, Emre thought, his heart pounding.
Buttwheel nudged him from behind, full of groceries from the store. Emre bit his lip.
“Stay,” he whispered. Buttwheel flipped its wheels.
Emre pulled out his phone. With shaking hands, he opened up the main group chat, the one with all of Zenith’s alpha friends and Emre’s omega friends. He shot off two texts: the situation, and their location.
Then he shoved the phone into his pocket and began unbuttoning his shirt and pants. Just in case he needed to shift.
Ever so slowly, he peeked around the wall again, still crouched low so no one would notice him.
“You were the one sneaking around my lair,” Zenith growled, taking one threatening step forward. “Emre isn’t yours.”
Ronald scoffed. “Emre is mine. That stupid omega cut off my bonding mark, but I’m going to put it back on him. These pups are mine.”
Zenith’s entire body was tense; he almost seemed to grow bigger with rage. “They’re Emre’s, not yours. You never even contributed any DNA, let alone parenting.”
Ronald was unmoved. “They’re wolf pups. They’re mine.”
The nerve of him! Rage boiled through Emre’s veins. He bared his teeth, about to charge in and claw out Ronald’s eyes.
“Hux,” Zenith growled, his voice barely restrained.
Something fell out of the sky. Emre only saw it because he was at the other end of the alley.
Ronald didn’t see it. By the time he looked up, it was too late.
A giant bird crashed down on him, stabbing its beak into his eye.
Ronald screamed. Zenith darted forward and grabbed the cart, tearing it out of Ronald’s hands. He shoved it down the alley toward Emre.
Their eyes met; understanding passed between them.
“Take them and go,” Zenith said urgently.
Emre sprang to his feet, sprinting over to grab the pups.
Ronald roared. Emre didn’t listen to his words.
He scooped both pups out of the cart, cradling them against his chest. Safe with me. All he had to do was grab Buttwheel, and get out of here. Zenith and Huxton were more than enough to handle Ronald.
Except several footsteps charged closer, gathering around the mouth of the alley.
Emre froze, his heart pounding. We had the upper hand for all of three seconds. He couldn’t run out of there now; who knew if those men had orders to shoot on sight?
“Zenith?” Emre whispered.
Zenith looked over and tensed. “Hux!”
The giant bird kicked away from Ronald, at the same time Zenith landed an uppercut on Ronald’s face. Blood streamed down from Ronald’s eye socket; Zenith slammed him up against the brick wall.
“Zen, he fights dirty!” Emre had time to shout, before Zenith cried out in pain.
Emre’s heart seized. The giant bird shifted into a huge chimpanzee, and suddenly there were furry legs wrapping around Emre’s chest.
“Brace yourself,” the chimpanzee cried.
The henchmen surged into the alley.
Emre tried his best with two pups in his arms. The chimpanzee rapidly scaled up the wall, grabbing onto a window sill and drainage pipes. Bullets rained around them, ricocheting off the walls.
They cleared the roof in a panting heap. Well, Emre was panting. The pups were huddled and whimpering against his chest.
The chimpanzee looked over the edge of the roof, yanking his head back as bullets narrowly missed him. “Yikes!”
Emre stopped breathing. “Hux, you have to help Zenith!”
Huxton shot him a look. “Stay put.”
He swung himself off the roof, shifting into a rhino before the henchmen could point their guns at him. Huxton’s new, heavier body slammed down on the men; several bones snapped, yells cut short.
Then came a thump and a grunt. Emre carefully peeked over the edge of the roof.
Ronald’s back was against the wall. His nose was broken, blood dripping down his face. “You!” he snarled. “Take your fucking shapeshifter and fuck off!”
Zenith stared back at him with burning rage.
Emre didn’t miss the sharp knife in Ronald’s fist, glistening red with blood.
Zenith’s blood.
Where was he hurt? Zenith was still standing straight and tall, but with a wound that deep, he had to be bleeding a lot. Oh gods.
“Just because you’ve fucked him, doesn’t mean he’s yours,” Ronald sneered. “You haven’t seen him beg—”
Zenith punched him again. He grabbed Ronald by his shirt and slammed him back against the wall, except the knife came up, dangerously close to Zenith’s chest.
Ronald was aiming between Zenith’s ribs, Emre realized, baiting him to get close.
Cold horror washed through his veins.
Surely Zenith knew what Ronald was planning. Emre was afraid to shout; Zenith needed every bit of focus to make sure Ronald didn’t pull another knife on him.
The knife flashed.
“You’re lower than scum,” Zenith hissed, shoving the knife aside and grabbing Ronald’s arm. Bones snapped. Ronald screamed and tried to headbutt Zenith, but Zenith shoved him back against the wall. “You had a chance with Emre, and all you did was hurt him!”
“It’s my right to do whatever I want,” Ronald spat. “I will kill you, and I will claim Emre in any way I see fit—”
Zenith roared. This time, he punched Ronald so hard that his fist sank into Ronald’s face, cracking bone.
Ronald collapsed.
“Hey!” one of the henchmen shouted. “Don’t kill him! Who’s gonna pay us if he’s dead?”
Zenith bared his teeth, one hand pressed to his side. “Maybe you shouldn’t be working for him, because he’ll be dead soon enough. And so will you, if you don’t get the fuck out right now.”
The henchmen scattered. Emre held his breath, counting the heartbeats left.
Six sets of heartbeats.
Was Ronald...?
“I’m not dead yet,” Ronald croaked from the ground. He coughed weakly and spat, staring up at Zenith with glittering, malicious eyes.
Zenith had broken part of his skull. How was he still alive?
Then it didn’t matter anymore, because Ronald lunged up and shifted into a wolf, jaws open to rip out Zenith’s human throat.
Emre’s heart stopped. “Zenith!”
Zenith twisted sideways, dodging Ronald and punching him in the head. Ronald swayed. Zenith breathed a stream of the hottest blue flames, grabbing Ronald and holding him down so the flames consumed him. Ronald screamed and shifted back into a human.
Huxton shifted into a large pterodactyl, casually leaning his wing against the mouth of the alley to hide most of the flames.
“Look away, Emre,” the butler said.
Emre couldn’t look away.
It was horrifying, watching Ronald burn. Seeing his skin sear off, his flesh blacken.
But Ronald had also dug his claws into Emre, pinning him down just so he could hurt Emre over and over. He had kidnapped the pups to sell them.
And maybe at the back of his mind, Emre had always worried about Ronald finding him, hunting him down to hurt him and his pups again.
He tore his gaze away, but he heard the crackle of flesh, the sizzle of blood. He heard Ronald’s heart stop, and he smelled Ronald’s flesh burn.
It should make him retch, but all Emre could feel was a weird sense of peace.
He sat down shakily on the rooftop, staring at nothing. Just holding his pups.
Then he remembered the blood-red knife, and Zenith hurting. Emre’s heart flew to his throat.
He pulled out his phone to see if anyone was sending a doctor. “Zenith?” Emre asked. “Do you need an ambulance? He stabbed you with a knife.”
Huxton swore.
The flames stopped. Zenith blew out a heavy breath. Emre peered over the edge of the roof, only to see Zenith stumble backward.