Chapter one #2
Mike held his breath. He’d talked a lot of suspects off the figurative ledge since joining SWAT, but didn’t have any formal negotiator training. If he said the wrong thing now, this guy and his buddies could go off the deep end and start shooting.
“This place is a maze in here,” Hale said over the radio, frustration in his voice. “Carter and I have been running around since we entered the building and still haven’t gotten anywhere. Some of the doors are welded shut, which means we have to take the long way to get anywhere.”
“Trey and I have run into the same problem,” Connor announced. “We could bash our way through, but not without making a bunch of noise.”
The doors were welded shut? What the hell was that about? Sure, the warehouse wasn’t being used right now, but he’d never seen anyone go that far to keep trespassers out.
Mike muttered a curse at the fear-filled screams coming from inside. It sounded like they were dragging the hostages deeper into the warehouse, and they were fighting every step of the way.
“Guys, things in there are spiraling out of control fast,” he said softly into his mic. “Get inside as fast as you can. I’m going in.”
Ignoring the automatic rifle pointed in his direction, Mike lunged toward the partially open door, his inner werewolf letting out a rumbling growl. Pain ripped through his shoulder within a heartbeat of the gun going off, but he ignored the injury and kept moving fast.
Fighting to keep his fangs and claws from extending, he slammed into the metal and glass door, shattering it and ripping the frame off the hinges, sending the man who’d been standing there to the floor.
The guy ended up buried under what was left of the door, too out of it to care about anything else.
Mike heard rapid gunfire from his left as he sprang to his feet.
Something thumped him in the back, driving the air from his lungs, even with the tactical vest he was wearing.
Any hope of restraining his inner wolf disappeared then, and when he turned to face whoever had shot at him, it was to see the man standing there in wide-eyed shock.
Guess that meant his brown eyes were gleaming a vivid gold and his fangs had extended.
But there was no going back now.
Mike covered the distance between him and the guy in a few strides, grabbing the barrel of the rifle as it went off again. He grunted as the round slammed into his chest. Even though most of the energy was absorbed by the ceramic plate in his tactical vest, it still hurt like hell.
Ripping the gun out of the man’s hands, Mike tossed it aside, then shoved him through the nearest window before spinning to deal with the last guy. Despite carrying a rifle similar to the other Hillside Riders, he took one look at Mike and made a beeline for the back of the warehouse.
Mike gave chase, letting loose a growl as his inner wolf reacted to the sight of running prey.
From somewhere in the warehouse, he heard Connor, Trey, Hale, and Carter tearing their way through those welded doors they’d mentioned.
Screams, thumping heartbeats, and the cloying scent of fear and panic filled the endless maze of rooms. Mike only hoped they could find the hostages in time.
The guy Mike was chasing turned out to be a fast runner. Fear of being arrested probably had something to do with that. Regardless, the man had already put a lot of distance between them and was going for more.
Mike put on more speed, knowing there was absolutely no way any human could outrun a werewolf. Three large rooms later, Mike closed the gap and prepared to leap. But the guy he was chasing must have felt him catching up because he spun and started shooting on full automatic.
Mike ducked under the bullets coming his way, sweeping one arm up to knock the barrel aside so the rounds smacked harmlessly into the ceiling.
A moment later, Mike slammed into the guy, taking them both through the wide doorway into a larger room.
He was so focused on getting the weapon away from the man that he didn’t realize they’d somehow tripped the industrial metal rolling door between the rooms. He flinched as it came down behind him with a loud thud.
The Rider used the momentary surprise to slip away from Mike, abandoning his assault rifle in a bid to escape. But the guy immediately stumbled backward over something, flailing and tumbling to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.
The man jumped to his feet quickly, stepping back awkwardly as he realized the thing he’d stumbled over was a dead body.
But before he could say or do anything else, there was a soft pop, and then the guy was tumbling backward again, but this time it was with the red stain of blood spreading rapidly across his chest.
Knowing it hadn’t been one of his pack mates who’d killed the guy, Mike dived to the floor and grabbed the AK-47 the dead Rider had dropped. Then he spun around, snapping the barrel of the weapon up to cover a tall, dark-haired man standing on a catwalk forty feet above the room.
An acrid, chemical odor assaulted Mike’s nose as he looked around for some way to get up there. Unfortunately, there weren’t any steps that he could see. And the metal walkway was well beyond the height he could jump, even with his werewolf abilities.
Mike gave a start as he realized he recognized the man standing at the railing of the walkway above him, even if the a-hole did look younger than he should have.
Not that the man’s skin care regimen mattered right now.
Not when there was a silenced pistol currently pointed straight at Mike.
Even a werewolf would go down if you put a bullet through his heart or his head.
“Cassius Roman,” Mike said slowly. “Never expected to see you again.”
Mike darted a quick look around the room, expecting to see other armed men moving in as he spoke.
The Cassius Roman he knew never went anywhere without a retinue of heavily armed bodyguards.
But while Mike could definitely hear and smell people moving around other parts of the warehouse, there didn’t seem to be anyone in here with them.
“I have to admit, I never expected to be back,” Roman said casually as he moved toward one side of the walkway, keeping Mike in his sights the entire time, his dark eyes hard. “And I wouldn’t have, if not for the thing you stole from me.”
Mike stood there, completely at a loss for words.
A decade ago, Roman had been the target of Mike’s last major undercover operation when he worked in the narcotics division.
The one he’d been on before his whole life had fallen apart.
Before he’d lost his family, nearly died, and ended up becoming a werewolf.
Even with all of that, the one thing he could say for sure was that he’d never stolen anything from anyone.
And most definitely not from a scumbag like Roman.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Mike said.
Outside the room, Xander and Carter pounded against the large rolling metal door, wanting to know what the hell was happening and whether Mike was okay.
“Don’t even try it!” Roman snapped, drawing Mike’s attention back to him and the weapon in his hand. “I’m not going to banter with you about this. Give me the flash drive, or I’ll kill your son.”