“Remember.”He gave Regan’s brother a hard look.“Wait until you hear my howl before going in.You won’t stand a chance if…”
“If I go in before you distract the guards,” Peter finished, voice sharp.“I’m not stupid.”He quickly checked the chamber of the ornate double-action revolver in his hand.“Fuck, I wish we had more of these,” he muttered, the wind almost snatching the words away.
Declan didn’t know if he meant the weapon or the ammunition nestled within.Either way, he agreed with him.Loaded in the archaic gun was a single hollow-tipped silver bullet, both items appropriated by Peter with a quick flash of his badge from a very unconventional antiquities dealer on the way.Declan didn’t ask how Peter knew the dealer had such an unusual weapon.It didn’t matter.But one look at the guy behind the counter told him it was the real deal.Ancient tattoos covered the man’s sunken cheeks and skinny arms, tattoos designed to ward off evil spirits and demons.Declan had seen his type too often in Europe, although he’d never expected to come across it in Australia.Losers dreaming of being heroes.Submerging themselves in the paranormal and occult—enough to believe, not enough to know better.Hunting werewolves and demons and vampires.Pissing themselves when they finally came upon one.
Just asthisman had done, although it had been Peter’s police badge, not Declan’s lycanthrope genes rupturing his bladder.
Face white, hands trembling, eyes scared and wistful, he’d handed the bullet and the gun over to Peter immediately, begging not to be arrested.One less hero in the world.
Declan felt his bile rise.Oneless hero?Maybe after this, the count would be three.What he and Regan’s brother were attempting was the closest thing to a suicide run Declan had ever been on.Jesus alone knew if either of them would return.
He ground his jaw.For Regan’s sake, he hoped at least one of them did.
A dull ache throbbed in his chest and he pressed his hand to the hot but healing wound there.Peter’s earlier shot back at Rick’s had, thankfully, missed his heart.Just.Even thoughthatbullet wasn’t silver, a direct puncture to the heart was not something quick to recover from.If Peter had fired his police-issued Glock a fraction to the right, he—Declan—would be in enough pain now to adversely affect his raid on Epoc’s territory.More pain than he already was in, that was.When all this was over, he’d get Regan’s vet to work his magic again.After he demanded an apology from the guy.
A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.Afterhe’d made long, passionate and tender love to Regan.A few times, actually.
Sucking in a slow breath, he studied the blackness before him.Four lycanthropes still stood guard to the east, five to the west.He’d detected their scent as he and Peter did their first perimeter sweep.All nine were currently in human form.All nine armed.He’d smelt the silver of their bullets before he’d tasted their cringing nervousness.As always, Epoc had surrounded himself with those easily controlled and dominated.It seemed being in a different country made no difference.Declan prayed to God it would bring about his downfall tonight.
He clenched his fists, letting his wolf come closer to the surface.Ready.Eager.He’d make a ruckus on the mansion’s northern perimeter, drawing the guards and leaving Peter a—hopefully—free run to the building from the south.
After that, the cop was on his own.Declan would be dealing with his own entry.
For Peter, the plan was simple.Get in.Get Regan.Get out.
Declan’s plan included an extra element.Kill Nathan Epoc.
He closed his eyes for a second, picturing the smug man.Hate roared through him and his wolf stirred again, its strength flooding his limbs.He opened his eyes.It was time.
“Remember,” he said to Peter without looking at him.“In.Out.No heroics.Just get your sister and get her safe.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Peter shift slightly.“Remind me to buy you a beer after this.”
Declan chuckled softly.“Deal.But it’s gotta be a Guinness.I’m not drinking any of that Fosters.”
Peter laughed, muscles bunching as he readied to spring forward.“Me either.Real Aussies don’t drink Fosters.”And then he was gone.Into the blackness, devoured by the night.
Declan’s eyebrows shot up—Jesus, he’s a fast bugger—before he too, took off, leaping over the sixteen-foot, spear-topped iron fence in a single bound.Heading north across Epoc’s manicured lawn.Vengeance boiling in his veins.
A loud howl cut through the air, rising above the wind, long, savage and angry, followed by the sharp report of a fired handgun.Another, and another.Epoc lifted his head, turning from the appealing sight of the female’s lips, a smug smile stretching his own wide.Running his tongue over them, he tasted her fear and spirit.Delicious.
He bared his teeth at the hovering Yolanda and McCoy in a gleeful grin.“He’s here.”He dropped his gaze back to the human bitch, chuckling at her hate-filled glare.Tracing a claw along the line of her full bottom lip, eager to taste it again, to feel warm blood beading on its soft surface with his teeth and tongue, he raised an eyebrow.“I told you he would come.As predictable as ever.”He let his finger score a line over her chin, down her neck to the little dip at the base of her throat, pushing the tip of his claw at its sensitive, delicate surface.“Are you ready?”
Another howl rose over the wind.Closer.Louder.Angrier.
A twist of apprehension knotted in Epoc’s stomach, unnerving and completely unexpected and before he could suppress it, a worried frown creased his forehead.
Regan Thomas looked up at him, a perceptive light suddenly flaring in her ice-green eyes.“I’mready, Epoc,” she said, voice steady and unafraid.Knowing.“How about you?”
He ran, paws barely touching the ground as he did so.Behind him he heard the other wolves.Chasing him.Gaining on him.Nine different scents.All fired with nervous excitement.They may be submissive mongrels to Epoc’s Alpha, but theEudeyrnwerewolf guards took their job seriously.They were out to catch Declan and bring him down.He smelt it in their radiating stink.He heard it in their yips and snarls.
Opening his gait, he headed for the northern boundary, forcing more speed into his sprint.They’d transformed shortly after realizing they couldn’t intimidate him with bullets.Declan knew Epoc wanted him alive, which meant his guards would be under strict ordersnotto shoot him.After the fourth bullet buried into a tree trunk, they’d discarded their weapons and shifted.It hadn’t made it easier for him, however.Shaking nine adrenaline-charged werewolves was never going to be easy.
Fighting them would be harder.
He needed to enter Epoc’s home on his terms, and to do so, he needed to shake the pursuing guards, not be taken down by them.Which meant he needed to clear the high fence, draw them away from the property and into Peter’s hastily organized trap, an anonymous tip-off to the local Animal Control authorities about a pack of savage dogs roaming the area.The officers wouldn’t find any dogs, of course, but hopefully the threatening distraction of men and guns would send Epoc’s guards running far enough away to transform back into human form, allowing Declan to slip back into Epoc’s territory without notice.If the plan didn’t work…
His claws dug into the warm soil as he pushed another burst of speed from his legs.For Regan he’d fight the devil himself.
