Chapter twenty-three #2
Another flash of movement off to the side caught his eye, and he braced himself for whatever new threat was coming their way, but it was only Chapman digging through the cargo pockets of Mike’s uniform pants. He was looking for the damn envelope with the flash drives.
Mike’s predatory side instinctively wanted to go after Chapman, but his heart easily overruled that idea, and he turned to once again help Lark. But the moment he caught sight of her again, he knew he was going to be too late.
Everything slowed as the supernatural Lark was fighting, got a hand on the scruff of fur behind her neck, hauling her off the ground and swinging his other claw-tipped hand toward her exposed neck.
Heart in his throat, Mike tried to dart around the guy in front of him. When that failed, he charged straight at the man, depending on pure savagery. That failed, too, leaving Mike with no choice but to watch the woman he loved die all over again.
Then a blur of brown fur entered the picture. It was a wolf, smaller than Lark but seemingly twice as agile, and Mike knew it was Kal. Mike would have cheered if he wasn’t so completely terrified.
Kal flew through the air, his jaws clamping down on the arm of the man preparing to kill his mother.
The guy shouted in pain as Kal shook his head back and forth, twisting his whole body to inflict as much damage as possible.
Cursing, the man released Lark to defend himself from Kal’s attack.
The moment he did, she lunged at him, sinking her fangs into the back of his leg.
The man’s cursing turned to shouts of pain, drawing the attention of the supernatural Mike was going up against. One moment of distraction as the guy glanced at his buddy was all Mike needed, and he latched his jaws on the man’s throat.
Mike refused to think about what his fangs were doing.
The only thing that mattered was getting past the guy and reaching Lark and Kal.
The moment the man fell to the ground, Mike raced around him and bounded the twenty feet between him and the other supernatural.
He slammed shoulder-first into the guy’s chest just as the man was about to tear into Kal’s small fur-covered body.
All of them went down in a pile, the man frantically flailing his clawed hands left and right in an attempt to free himself from three wolves.
It didn’t work.
Mike was this close to finishing the fight when movement to his right caught his eye. He glanced that way, expecting to see Roman coming at them. But instead, the man was running in the direction Chapman was now fleeing.
With the envelope full of flash drives.
The fight with Wayne and his guys was clearly over. Their bodies were lying in the grass, unmoving. But they weren’t the only casualties. Roman’s third and last supernatural was dead, too, lying beside Wayne.
Mike tracked Roman with his gaze. Chapman had a serious lead, but Roman was fast. Damn near as fast as a werewolf.
Hell, he might even be faster than a werewolf.
It seemed a safe bet Roman was going to catch up to Chapman, get his flash drive, recover his journal of account addresses, and then get away.
And there was nothing Mike could do about it. Not while staying here to protect his family.
Mike felt a nudge on his shoulder, and he looked over to see Lark standing on the unconscious supernatural’s chest, holding him down with Kal’s assistance. The guy beneath them was heavily injured and clearly not going anywhere anytime soon—if ever.
Lark nudged him again with her nose and then gestured at Roman and Chapman. Another jerk of her snout sent a signal impossible to miss.
Go after them.
He glanced quickly at Kal to see his son nodding in agreement. Without another thought, Mike spun around and darted away, tearing across the ground in the direction Chapman and Roman had gone.
It wasn’t hard to follow them. The thunder of their heartbeats was only overshadowed by the stomp of their boots thumping on the ground as they ran toward the front of the property. Almost certainly where Chapman had left his vehicle.
Mike saw them as he rounded the corner of the house. Roman had caught up with Chapman a couple hundred yards short of the perimeter wall, where it ran along the main road. Chapman was on the ground, bleeding from a shoulder wound.
Slowing, Mike moved to crouch down behind a tree, making sure he was downwind of Roman’s position. He had no idea whether the man had an enhanced sense of smell, but Mike wasn’t willing to take the chance.
As he watched, Roman moved to stand over Chapman, the envelope of flash drives already in one hand, the weapon in his other hand pointing straight at Chapman’s head.
“Hand over the book,” Roman ordered.
Mike was surprised to realize that Roman was gasping for breath from the sprint after Chapman.
Roman was sweating profusely, too, and the acrid odor of it made Mike’s nose burn.
The man had pushed himself to chase down Chapman, that much was obvious.
With his supernatural modifications, he’d never shown even the slightest hint of exhaustion in any of their previous encounters. Why now?
Mike was still trying to come up with an answer to that question when Chapman reached into his back pocket and came out with the journal he’d gotten at the paint factory.
“I guess you really are addicted to those MODs,” Chapman said with a laugh. “You’re already starting to shake from the withdrawal symptoms, and it’s been what, only five or six hours since your last dose? You’ll need to spend all the money in those crypto accounts on your new drug of choice.”
Roman cursed, moving closer to Chapman, trying to snatch the book with the same hand holding the envelope of flash drives. That’s when Chapman made his move.
And so did Mike.
Slipping around the tree trunk as silently as a wraith, he charged forward in a four-legged sprint at the same time Chapman pulled a small-frame automatic pistol from inside his jacket and fired four rounds point-blank into Roman’s chest.
Mike got there just as Roman began to fire back at Chapman. Mike launched himself into the air to close his fangs down onto Roman’s hand. The one holding both the envelope and the journal. Roman let out a shout as Mike’s fangs tore into paper, plastic, bones, and flesh.
The envelope of partially destroyed flash drives, along with a torn and blood-smeared book, fell to the ground as Roman turned his handgun on Mike and began to fire.
Mike released Roman’s damaged hand and bounded to the side to avoid getting hit before leaping forward to slam into his chest. Roman’s gun went flying from the impact.
But that didn’t mean the man wasn’t still dangerous.
He tore at Mike’s throat and shoulders with the claws from his undamaged hand like a man possessed.
Mike fought back just as hard, his fangs flashing as he lunged for Roman’s throat over and over.
He missed his target, but was still able to inflict serious damage to the man’s arms and shoulders.
Unfortunately, nothing he did seemed to have any effect on Roman.
The man kept coming at him, hatred and anger roiling off of him like excess body heat.
From the corner of his eye, Mike saw Chapman hobbling away toward the perimeter wall, the tattered remains of both the envelope and the journal clutched in his bloody hands.
Mike had no idea if there was anything usable left after he’d chomped them, but he still didn’t like the man getting away with any of it.
But going after Chapman wasn’t an option, not with Roman charging at him in a rage, claws and fangs insanely long now, like he was becoming more creature than human.
Mike didn’t hold anything back as he fought, knowing Roman intended to see him dead.
Lunging forward, he tore into Roman again and again with his fangs, even as the other man’s claws tore into him.
They both gave as good as they got, and for several long moments, Mike had no idea who would come out on top.
And then, between one heartbeat and the next, Roman simply collapsed, falling to the ground gasping for breath, one clawed hand pressing to his chest. At first, Mike thought it was all the blood coming from Chapman’s earlier gunshots, or the various lacerations his fangs had inflicted, that was finally slowing Roman down.
But then he heard Roman’s heart suddenly beating way too fast and too erratically.
Mike made sure Roman’s handgun wasn’t anywhere nearby and then shifted back into his human form. This shift only took a few seconds longer than the previous one, and hurt way less.
Mike gazed down at Roman, still lying on the ground and looking worse by the second. It was then he realized the gunfire going on around the property had ceased.
“Is it the MODs?” Mike said, not sure why he was asking. If the situation were reversed, he doubted Roman would care why he was the one lying there.