Then she turned and ran, jumping over Marley’s body. And he met the dogs at the door.
Chapter 6
No, no, no. This wasn’t the way things should have happened. Sarah froze at the sound of Lucas’s growl. No way could he and Michael take down that coyote pack out there. He wasn’t strong enough for that. Two against ten? Even he wasn’t that good.
She glanced over at the demon. Marley was still dead to the world, and the demon’s body was about to be slam in the middle of carnage central. Sarah raced forward and grabbed Marley’s wrist, then she hauled the demon back, not really caring too much when the chick’s head bumped over the floor. She was helping, right?
Growls and howls echoed through the cabin. She could hear the scrape of claws. Those bastards were planning to claw their way inside. Then what? They’d rip Michael and Lucas apart?
She pulled Marley’s body behind the couch and let the demon’s arm fall.
Stay down. Sarah stiffened at that hard demand. A demand that hadn’t been voiced. Lucas. She could finally touch his thoughts now. She closed her eyes a moment and felt that light trail that led back to his mind. Every beast she charmed had a special psychic trail. A trail that she could follow.
Lucas’s trail wasn’t as bright as others. No, his was dark and twisting. Maybe because the man inside the beast was dark. Twisted? Perhaps. But maybe not.
I’ve got the bastards that come in through the door. Lucas again. But the words were directed at Michael this time. Shifters could communicate telepathically when they were in animal form. A nice little bonus from Mother Nature that made hunting in packs so much easier, and so much more deadly.
Sarah crouched behind the couch and shook the demon. She hadn’t punched that hard. Well, maybe she had. Though she’d faked the hand pain after the punch. She knew how to hit hard without bringing pain.
Stay with Sarah. Lucas’s order to Michael. If anyone comes at her, you rip the bastard’s throat open.
Her breath caught at that order. Then a big, black wolf was there. Standing right beside her. Protecting her. But who was protecting Lucas? Hell, no, Michael. Just haul your ass right back over there. If he falls, I’m dead anyway.
The black wolf glanced back at her.
He stays. Lucas’s snapped command.
Dammit! She poked her head over the couch and got her first clear look at Lucas in wolf form. Unfortunately, that was the same instant that the coyotes burst through the door.
Lucas—a muscled, snarling, teeth snapping mass of black fur—leapt into the air. He caught the neck of the first coyote with his teeth, and, using that hold, he threw the coyote through the air. He swiped the second beast with his claws, cutting him open and the blood sprayed Lucas’s fur.
Kill.
Not her thought.
Glass shattered as more coyotes flew through the windows. Two more coyotes attacked Lucas. Snarling, biting.
Kill. Lucas’s only thought. No, wait, he was also—
Protect.
She dug her fingers into Michael’s fur. His giant body was trembling with the effort of holding back. He wanted into that fray, but he wasn’t about to disobey his alpha.
A coyote’s body hit the floor. Blood matted his fur. Another coyote launched onto Lucas’s back, sinking his teeth into muscle and bone. Lucas rolled over, slamming the coyote into the floor.
Kill.
A howl echoed in the distance, but this howl was deeper than the others. Harder. Darker. Familiar.
Rafe.
The swarm of smaller coyote bodies had almost hidden Lucas now. The coyotes weren’t even trying to come for her, they just wanted to take Lucas out. That had been the plan, right?
Her fingers were still in Michael’s fur. She crouched back behind the couch. Your alpha needs you. They don’t want me, they’re going to kill him. While she hid and watched.
You don’t know my alpha. Michael’s voice floated in her mind. He’s stronger, he’s—
More snarls and growls. More freaking coyotes. Help him. She lunged to her feet even as Michael leapt forward.
“Hey, bastards! How does it feel to be nothing more than freaking pit bulls for—”
Blood. Teeth. Fury. Not from the coyotes. Their bodies littered the floor. From Lucas. The wolf stood poised inside the doorway, blood dripping from his teeth, those blue eyes so bright they hurt to look at.
Oh, damn. He’d taken them all out.
Here’s your chance. Run. Get to the car and drive back to base.
Because another attack would be coming.
“They’re after you tonight, not me,” Sarah said. Michael was sniffing around the coyotes, making sure they didn’t rise. “I’m not leaving you.”
They’ll rip you apart.
Great. Nice visual. Sadly, a true visual. Not like she could fight the coyotes. “Let’s all get the hell out of here.” Before they all died. She knew the wolf waiting out there, he wouldn’t be alone. He never was, he—
The wail of sirens echoed in the night. Sirens? Oh, crap, yes, the cops had been watching the house. The coyotes would still be in human form when they first arrived. Dozens of men, swarming on a closed crime scene—of course any cop in the area would have called for backup.
Those sirens were getting close now. So close.
And she didn’t hear anymore howls. No more snarls.
Some of the coyotes, the dead, had already shifted back to human form. The others were hauling ass out of that cabin.
Run, Lucas. Get out. The cops can’t find you here.
His head tilted. She knew he heard the raised voices of the cops. She knew because she was in his head and could pick up his every thought.
His gaze bored into her. “I’ll be fine,” she promised. Such a lie.
And he knew it.
But what choice was there? Was he really going to face the LAPD in full-on wolf form? Especially when that detective was already gunning for him? A blood-soaked wolf. Right. The cops would shoot instantly when they saw him.
She could already hear the thunder of gunfire. Were the cops firing at the coyotes?
“You’ve got to run, Lucas. I’ll need someone to bail my ass out of jail.” Because that’s where she was heading.
His blue eyes burned. Tell them nothing.
“You can count on that.” Like they’d believe her anyway. “Go.”
He whirled away, a dangerous shadow, and he dove through the remains of the broken door. Michael followed on his heels, a slightly smaller, but just as dangerous beast.
Her hands balled into fists even as her gaze darted to the dead men. Men, now, not beasts, and they were men who’d died in a manner that looked too similar to John’s death. Ripped throats. Torn bodies. And, of course, there she stood, right in the middle of the bloodbath.