Snapping about, he stared up the street again, pulse thumping in his neck, blood roaring in his ears.Where was his sister?Where was Yolanda?An icy fist squeezed his heart, his throat.“Reggie?”
“She’s gone.Your partner’s taken her to Epoc.”
Peter spun around and glared at the man standing behind him.Cold fury and burning guilt consumed him.“Where is she?”
Hooded, angry grey eyes bored into him.“I told you.Vischka’s taken her to Nathan Epoc.”
“Give me my gun,” Peter demanded.“I’m going after them.”
“You don’t have a ch?—”
“She’s my sister, mate,” he snarled through gritted teeth, cutting O’Connell short.“I’m going after her.”
“You’ll be killed before you get past the gate.”O’Connell shook his head again, his pale torso almost ghost-like in the engulfing shadows of the night.“What is it with you Thomases?Didn’t you hear me say werewolf?Didn’t you just spend the last fifteen minutes fighting to stay alive as one tried to kill you?”
Peter stared hard at the man, keeping his voice low, controlled.“That one being you.”He stepped forward, clenching his fists to stop jabbing a finger into O’Connell’s chest.“Now listen to me, mate.She’s my sister.Mysister.I’m not going to trust her life to someone,something, who just tried to kill me.”His knuckles cracked and he shook his own head.“You obviously don’t have one or you’d understand.”
Dark rage rolled over O’Connell’s features, before—with a blink—his grey eyes grew lost, swimming with a grief so intense Peter found them almost too painful to look at.“I do,” he whispered, shoulders slumping slightly.“I did.”He took a step back.“And I understand completely.Let’s go.”
Gut churning, Peter narrowed his eyes.“What?Am I to trust you now?A man standing naked in the street with a bullet wound in the heart, who only seconds earlier tried to tear my throat out?”
The man gave him a wry grin, his pale, muscled body already taut and sprung for action.“I plan on becoming your brother-in-law someday soon,” he answered, holding Peter’s gun out to him, butt first—an offering of peace.Of partnership.“If we both live through the night.Does that help make up your mind?”
Muffled voices wafted through her head.Indistinct.Distant.Like the speakers spoke through cotton wool from the other side of the world.
Awareness returned slowly.A slow incoming tide bringing with it a world of pain.Dull pain in her jaw.Hot, angry, terrible pain in her shoulder.
Regan moaned, her head lolling to the side.A low roar vibrated through her aching body and she shifted, her hip grinding against something cold and hard.
Vivid images ripped through her mind and she snapped open her eyes, staring in horror at the bare white, metal wall before her.The sound of an engine changing gears filled her head and fear sank into her gut.Shit.She was in a van.
Shit!Declan!Peter!
The vehicle hit a pothole in the road and she bounced, head and shoulder and hip smacking the metal floor in a sharp series of agonizing thumps.
Fuck, that hurts.
Warm liquid seeped from her shoulder and down across her chest.Blood.Her blood.
Anger rolled through her and she tried to move.
Slicing pain cut into her wrists and ankles and she bit back a curse.Cable-ties.The blonde bitch had cable-tied her.What the hell was she to do now?How was she to get back to Declan?To Peter?Where the fuck was the blonde taking her?
Epoc.
The name floated into her head and she sucked in a swift breath.
Oh, no.
“So you are awake, yes?”
The woman’s voice came from Regan’s left and she twisted on the van’s floor, pain shooting into her shoulder.The blonde looked at her from the passenger seat, her face composed, the fingers of her right hand loosely gripping a Glock nine-millimeter.Her eyes however, looked uneasy.“I thought I may have hit you too hard.”
Regan glared at her, struggling against the thin strips of plastic cutting into her wrists and ankles.“Untie me, bitch and I’ll show you what a hard hit feels like!”
“Told you she had spirit.”
A low chuckle followed the accented words and Regan’s blood froze, her heart leaping into her constricting throat.
