“Why?” Sebastian asked. He hated that he didn’t understand why they kept looking at each other like that.
“Nothing. Blackwell – Viggo, I guess – just has a reputation,” Marge said. “A lot of people tried to take that territory from him after he claimed it, and well, he didn’t let them.”
“Max is going to flip,” Josh said, awed. “Blackwell is like his personal hero. I have to go tell him.”
“I heard,” Max said from over at the door. He shot Sebastian a look. “It’s just the three of you?”
Sebastian nodded.
“Think Blackwell will take three more?”
Sebastian had no idea. Before he had time to answer, there was the sound of gunshots and everyone went quiet.
They listened, the sound of gunshots cutting off abruptly, the silence ringing. After that, no one was in the mood to talk.
“They’ll be okay,” Josh said, trying to reassure himself and everyone around him. “We’ll all be out of here soon.”
“I hope so,” Sebastian muttered, leaning against the wall and sliding down to sit. Josh and Marge, and then a few others followed his example.
“It will be all right,” Marge said, sounding confident. “They know what they’re doing.”
Sebastian was sure she was right.
28
VIGGO
Viggo didn’t have a clue what he was doing.
He knew how to fight other werewolves – how to fend off challenges to his territory and to put other alphas in their place – but humans were a different matter.
One hit and theydied.
“So we didn’t want to question that one?” Thomas, the Boswell pack alpha, asked.
Viggo grunted to cover his embarrassment. They’d broken into the security office outside the warehouse, surprising the nightguards and incapacitating them with ease, but one of them must have triggered an alarm because ten minutes later a whole convoy of cars had pulled up to the warehouse with armed goons jumping out and taking up defensive positions outside the gate.
Viggo, Thomas and Jordan had spread out, climbing the fence and circling around to ambush the backup before they could get a grip on the situation, killing them all with ruthless efficiency.
Viggo and Thomas were now back in the breakroom, Jordan keeping watch on the gate, their four captives whittled down to three due to Viggo’s miscalculation of how much a human skull could take.
He rounded on their three remaining captives, glaring at them and making them shrink back.
“Do you want to survive tonight?”
All three nodded furiously.
“Then you better have information for me.”
The three captives waited for Viggo to elaborate, but he wanted to see what they would give up without specific prompting. When he stayed silent, the youngest of the three began to talk.
“Look, man. Tell us what you want to know. I’ll give you all the info I have.”
Viggo stared at him, saying nothing. The young guard was sweating profusely, and he kept looking at his colleague lying dead on the floor.
“Henry Oswell, he’s the boss, right?” the young guard said, his chest starting to heave. He was panicking, lip wobbling as he fought back tears. “He works with the Mercer pack. Their alpha owns this warehouse, keeps it from being inspected because it falls under werewolf jurisdiction. There’s an office in the theater, they have books where they keep track of everyone who’s fought. I don’t know what to tell you, man, just ask and I’ll give you everything I have!”
“Jesus, Elliott, they’re going to kill us either way, stop embarrassing yourself,” the oldest of the three guards growled, glaring at the younger man.
