“Fuck!” He looks around at his males, confusion and fear warring on his face. “What are they up to? What is this all about? Do they want us to start killing you off one by one?”
Sally whimpers.
“In less than a minute, they’re going to raid this building,” I tell him, my voice urgent. “You have to—”
Another fist catches me in the jaw. My head snaps back, and I taste copper. I spit blood onto the floor.
“You were told to shut up,” the male snarls.
“If they raid this building, you three will die,” Kaine says, looking between us. “My males will kill you. It’s that simple.”
“Don’t you see, they don’t care if we live or die,” I push out.
He frowns. “What are you talking about? Of course they care. You’re hostages. Employees of the Mainland. They have to care.”
“They don’t,” I insist, forcing him to meet my eyes. “They have no plans of ever bringing the media. They’re pinning this all on me. There’s been no mention of anti-vaxxers at all in the media coverage. None whatsoever. They’re going to kill us all and blame me for everything. They want your propaganda buried with us.”
Kaine’s eyes narrow. “How do you know all of this?”
I see the moment realization hits. His expression shifts from confusion to rage.
“One of you has a cellphone,” he growls. “You’ve been in contact with someone out there.” He looks at each of us in turn. “This is all your fault! You told them—”
The sound of breaking glass cuts him off.
It comes from everywhere at once. All sides of the building. Windows shattering, glass splintering as it hits tiles.
This is it.
I half expect the males holding Sally and Wren to slice their throats. Instead, they throw the females aside, making it clear that they never intended to harm any of us.
I almost feel sorry for them.
Wren lands hard on the reception desk. She slides across it, tumbling off the other side just as rapid gunfire erupts.
The sound is deafening. Bullets tear through the air, punching through walls, shattering what’s left of the windows.
Kaine is yelling orders to his males, but I can barely hear him over the gunfire. We’re sitting ducks.
We don’t stand a chance against human guns. Since when did Draig Security start using them? We’re shifters. We use claws and fists. Maybe a sword or a knife. That’s it.
One of Kaine’s males takes a bullet to the chest. He goes down hard, blood spreading across his shirt.
Another catches one in the leg and drops, screaming.
The others scramble behind overturned furniture.
It’s chaos.
Figures in combat gear pour through the shattered entrance. They’re not big enough to be shifters. These are humans. Armed humans in tactical gear, carrying automatic weapons, and they’re intent on killing every last one of us.
Another of the anti-vaxxers is shot in the head. His body crumples like a puppet with its strings cut. His eyes are wide and staring.
We don’t stand a chance.
“Help me,” Sally’s voice cuts through the gunfire. She’s on her feet, hands raised. “Please! Save me!”
“No!” I shout, but it’s too late.
