We race back to the bar, where we find Pete slumped in a chair inside, out cold. Rory notices too, stopping short.
“What the hell?” He turns to me. “Call Leon…”
Before he can process what’s happening, I strike with a quick, precise blow to the temple that sends him crumpling to the floor. He’ll have a hell of a headache when he wakes up, but he’ll live.
Without pausing to consider what’s going to happen when my father figures out what I’ve done, I grab him under the arms and drag him down into the cellar, locking the door from the outside.
Before leaving the bar again, I call the phone that hopefully Carla is watching closely. I let it ring once, twice, and then disconnect.
Fighting the urge to join her and run, I focus on what needs to be done to give her the best chance of getting away.
I need to deal with Craig, the third guard. The toughest one. A loyal attack dog who reports directly to my father. He’s patrolling the west perimeter, and unlike Rory, he won’t be lured away easily.
He’s too smart. He’ll be on to me the minute I suggest leaving his post.
I dart back to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of my father’s best whiskey. Craig’s one weakness. Then I head to the west side of the compound, moving quickly but quietly through the trees.
I spot him near the old fence line, rifle slung over his shoulder, alert and watchful. He’s good at his job. Too good.
There’s no time for anything elaborate or clever. The element of surprise is going to be my best chance of getting one over on him.
My bear pushes forward, eager for action, for the fight he senses coming. I let him surface just enough to sharpen my senses, to lend me his strength. Then I circle wide, coming up behind Craig silently.
His back goes straight as he picks up my scent and growls.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” He turns at the last second, some sixth sense warning him I’m not out here for a friendly chat, but it’s too late.
I’m already on him, one hand clamped over his mouth, the other twisted in his shirt as I slam him against a tree trunk.
He crumples to the ground.
“Sorry about this,” I mutter, and I mean it.
His eyes widen with shock, then narrow with fury as he realizes what’s happening. He fights hard, landing a solid punch to my ribs that would drop a normal man. But I’m not normal. Not with my bear so close to the surface. And I’m well aware of what will happen to me if I get caught.
I headbutt him, feeling his nose crunch beneath my forehead. As he staggers, dazed, I finish it with a precise strike to the jaw. He goes down like a felled tree.
I take a moment to check his pulse. Steady. He’ll live to hate me another day.
Wiping blood from my hands, his or mine, I’m not sure. I tie him to the tree with thick rope, then I hurry back to the house, to the basement, to Carla. Or hopefully not.
When I thunder down the stairs and open the door, I blow out a sigh of relief when I find the basement empty. I replace the boards to slow anyone coming after us figuring out what happened, and I charge back up the stairs, bursting out the back door and racing across the yard.
My bear picks up her scent immediately, and he rumbles with deep satisfaction that she’s outside, back in the fresh air at last, like a shifter should be. With speed I didn’t know I possess, I chase after her, knowing she has a good head start but that exhaustion will slow her progress.
As I plunge into the trees, I’m grateful for the cover they provide, and I relax a little now that our position isn’t quite so exposed. But I can’t get complacent. Any of the three men, or all of them, could be on our tail already.
And if they are, reinforcements will be on the way. Leon won’t take a betrayal like this lying down.
With no attempt to move quietly, I crash through the undergrowth, spurred on by the sound of a babbling stream inthe distance. When I rush out the far side, stepping out onto the river bank and under the open sky above, she’s waiting for me, making no attempt to hide.
“I knew you’d make it,” she whispers, hand covering her heart as she stares at me, eyes glistening.
Her eyes widen when she sees the blood on my knuckles.
“Time to go,” I say, hurrying to her side. “Pete’s out cold. The other two are... indisposed. But not for long.”
She doesn’t ask for details, just nods and takes my hand when I extend it toward her.
