Chapter Twenty-One

I jumped up and ran to the barred window, while Kayleigh paid careful attention to something only she could hear.

“Can you break these bars?” I hissed.

“I can try.” She took a step toward me before her eyes suddenly widened in alarm. “Shit, Julie, they’re coming—the guard said something about you.” She stood poised between the door and the window, not able to fully commit to either path.

“Who is it? Who is it?”

I heard the pounding of footsteps on the stairs and I took another step backward, my spine pressing against the wall beside the window.

Fuck.

As another thought crossed my mind, I randomly grabbed the IV pole, swung it, and smashed it into the window. Glass shattered and I yelled, “Eliza! Eliza!”

Only seconds later, the door burst open and everything happened at once. Steroid-Man and two of the other thugs burst into the room, with another man behind them, this one not built in the thug mode, but appeared absurdly like a preppy outdoors model. Then I saw a blur of tawny fur and realized Kayleigh had shifted. The wolf flew at the throat of Steroid-Man who fired a hasty shot that cracked into the ceiling. A blur of motion. I dove for the floor, rolling next to the closet, and flung open the door, hoping it would provide a modicum of cover. I didn’t go so far as to crawl into the closet, mostly because I didn’t think I could live with myself if my friends got hurt while I curled in a ball on the floor of a closet. Mostly covered by the door, I peered into the room.

It felt like watching a badly cut action movie; I only absorbed quick images. Kayleigh shook her head, blood flying from her tawny muzzle; Steroid-Man staggered backward, his hands flying to his neck; the reflection off a gun held by my sandy-haired thug admirer, whose eyes narrowed as he searched for a shot. Then I heard a groan from the window and the white-painted bars flew through the room, hit one of the guards in the midsection and sent him flying into the hall. Eliza jumped into the room, her buff-fur standing on end. I only briefly saw her before I lost track of her, my gaze sliding away from her like oil as she pulled on the shadows in the room to conceal herself. Another wolf entered the room and I had time to wonder, Tim? Ken? before the wolf sprang at Kayleigh and the two tumbled into a whirl of fur and growls of rage.

Suddenly, I remembered I, too, had a gun and fumbled desperately at the back of my jeans where I’d stuck it, thinking it looked too obvious in my jacket pocket. I had a hard time grasping it and then realized my fist was still clenched around the silver chains from Kayleigh’s ankles. I shoved them in my pocket with the others and finally pulled out the gun. I pointed it at the door, hoping I could hit one of the other guards, held my breath, and squeezed the trigger.

Then I removed the safety and raised the gun again.

Dammit, what if I hit Eliza? Where was she? I hesitated.

Through the chaos of the room, I heard a crash from downstairs. Kayleigh and the gray wolf combatted in the middle of the room, though Kayleigh’s teeth were closed around the other wolf’s neck and he was keening. Both wolves were flung about by the wild movements of the enemy wolf I assumed was Ken/Taylor Dunn. Steroid-Man appeared dead, judging from the condition of his throat. The remaining guard tried to find a clear shot at Kayleigh. Then, he was knocked off his feet by a blur of teeth and fur, as Eliza dropped her cover and rushed past him. She crashed into the man I’d seen arrive behind the guards. That man thumped to the floor so hard I heard his head hit, despite the ugly blue carpet. Eliza crouched at his throat with a growl that raised the hackles on my neck. And I wasn’t a wolf. I didn’t even have hackles. Her threat rumbled through the room.

Everyone froze.

The man, the one resembling a wholesome model, said quietly, “If you harm me, you’re dead.”

Insane laughter bubbled up in my throat, and I swallowed it down.

“You, put your gun down,” Tim said from the hallway. His gun was trained on the sole standing guard who, in turn, lowered his weapon slowly. “Kick it here.”

The guard complied and put his hands on his head. His face revealed no emotion, and I didn’t want to be near him when he reclaimed his gun, that was for sure.

“You.” Tim swiveled to face the stand-off between the two wolves. The Ken/Taylor Were lay on his back, with Kayleigh poised above his jugular. “Change.”

A long pause ensued before the wolf-form writhed into the shape of a man. A slower transformation than I’d seen from any of our Weres, almost as if every step had to be conceived separately. Certainly nothing like Eliza’s fluid shifts. I watched as his form lengthened, twisted, and became that of a blond, bearded man. Sweat poured down his face, joining blood from bites on his shoulder and arm. One of his legs was curled strangely.

“Kayleigh.” Tim’s voice held a note of warning and the trembling wolf whined softly. She took a half step away from the man, but then, with a sudden lunge, she flung herself on him with a snarl. Before any of us could react, she tore his throat out with one white flash of her teeth.

Blood poured out of the body, which arched once before collapsing.

Kayleigh savaged his body, snapping and tearing at his flesh until he was unrecognizable. Finally, she pulled away from him and sat back on her haunches.

As she relaxed, our shock released the rest of us. The guard sank down on his knees and crawled backward as far as possible from Kayleigh’s blood-covered form. The oh-so-composed preppy model type turned an awful gray color as he stared at Eliza’s fangs so close to his own vulnerable neck. Eliza seemed to draw back slightly as if to make sure she wasn’t also tempted to some act of carnage, though she didn’t ease her guard on the man. The only one who seemed relatively nonplussed was Tim. His mild face stoic, neither his attention nor the point of his gun ever wavered.

Me, I turned to the side and heaved violently. Again and again, unable to control my body’s revulsion. At least I didn’t inadvertently fire my gun or anything; even in the midst of my misery, I had the presence of mind to lay the .22 carefully by my side.

“Kayleigh.” Tim’s voice rang cold and sharp as ice, and acted as smelling salts to my raw nerves.

The tawny wolf shrugged, actually shrugged, which I didn’t know was possible for a canine. Then she rose to her feet and stretched, a long and leisurely stretch, licked her chops, and changed into the supermodel. This time, she was probably beyond even the tastes of modern fashion: covered in flecks of blood, streaks of it matting her hair, looking like a murder victim herself.

“Sorry,” she said in her sweet, breathy voice, not sounding sorry at all.

Tim let out his breath in a hiss. “We’ll talk later. Go tie up the guard in the hall, he’s still unconscious.”

Guards. One, two, three… “Tim, there was another guard in the kitchen when I got here,” I said, sounding slightly hoarse. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve.

“Taken care of.” His voice gave no indication of the details.

Kayleigh flounced past Tim, leaving drops of blood in her wake. From the hall, came dull thuds as she none-too-carefully rearranged the unconscious thug and then I heard the unmistakable ripping sound of duct tape.

“Now this one,” instructed Tim.

When Kayleigh re-entered the room, the kneeling guard shrunk back. The vision of the tough blond thug nearly cowering in front of the gorgeous woman would have seemed humorous in other circumstances. Given what had just transpired, however, his reaction was pure common sense.

The sleek werewolf secured the guard firmly, trussing his hands behind him and binding his legs at ankle and knee. When she finished, she slipped the roll of duct tape onto her wrist like a bracelet and rose fluidly, waiting for further instructions from Tim. She didn’t spare a glance for what remained of the blond Were’s body, even as my gaze was drawn back to it, only to be jolted afresh by the sight. Afraid I might vomit, again, I rose shakily and pulled on a corner of Kayleigh’s former sheet to cover the lumpy shape of the body. The metallic smell threatened to overwhelm me, but I felt a bit better once I couldn’t see the mess. Even when blood started soaking the white sheet almost immediately.

Tim raised his brows.

“Sorry,” I said, swallowing thickly. “I’m fine.” I didn’t turn my gaze in Kayleigh’s direction, though I swore I sensed amusement in her silhouette.

Tim nodded once. He still held his gun pointed at the slim man on the ground next to Eliza.

“Eliza,” he said, neither voice nor weapon wavering, “back away.”

The buff-colored wolf obeyed. Her teeth remained barred, her back legs ready to spring.

“Stop.” Tim raised his voice and at first, I thought he addressed the man. I realized in the next instant Kayleigh had taken an eager step forward and froze again at Tim’s command. She tossed her blonde mane and slumped against the wall of the room.

“Eliza, change.” Obviously, Tim would prevent Kayleigh from approaching this captive any closer than necessary.

Between one heartbeat and the next, Eliza straightened to human form. Her fawn-colored hair was barely out of place, still secured in a straight ponytail down her back. She held out one hand toward Kayleigh who snorted and tossed over the duct tape. After securing the man, Eliza sat back on her haunches and fixed her gaze upon him.

“If I harm you, I’m dead, huh?” She echoed his earlier words. “Who are you, my friend, that your blood is so valuable?”

“Jimmy Bianco.” Tim answered the question.

When no other information came, I asked the obvious, “Who the hell is Jimmy Bianco?”

“His father is Joe Bianco, Joey White-hand. Brother-in-law to John Romano, head of the Romano family, based in Chicago. With a foothold in Las Vegas, so it seems.

“The question is,” Tim continued, as he stood over Jimmy, “who else is involved? How far up does this go?”

For a man lying on his side with his hands and feet joined by duct tape, Jimmy Bianco showed remarkable poise. With no wolves threatening to rip out his throat, he’d regained some color. He had wavy dark brown hair that managed to fall perfectly across his forehead, shadowing the palest brown eyes I’d ever seen—like frothy milk touched with a taste of coffee. His forehead was broad, his jawline strong and set in pleasant determination, his khaki pants creased sharply, and only after Eliza forced his arms backward did his pale green golf shirt come untucked. He still looked handsome. In fact, in other circumstances, I’d probably flirt with him.

“The real question,” my voice shook with fear and anger, “is where the hell is my baby? What have you done with him?”

Jimmy looked at me, really looked at me for the first time. As the least threatening form in the room, I don’t think I merited his attention before.

“You know,” I continued, “my baby Carson, the Werewolf? The one your men have been following around the country and trying to kidnap?” My voice rose as I didn’t elicit a response and I stood over him, hands clenched, eager to kick him or something.

“I don’t have your son,” he said. “I don’t know where he is.”

“The hell you don’t. Dave Blythe took him, and I know he’s working with you.”

Kayleigh spoke up, her incongruous voice startling me once again. “Have you been in the basement yet?”

Tim, Eliza, and I turned to look at her.

“What’s in the basement?” I asked for all of us.

“I’m not sure,” Kayleigh said, “But I think we need to see it. Or them.”