Declan’s first instinct was to toss his M4 away and rip into the hybrids with his newfound claws. But he resisted the urge and instead fired into the trio while they were busy trying to get their own weapons pointed in his direction.
The two hybrids in the front staggered back as the high-speed ball rounds hit them in the chest. One slumped to the ground immediately, but the others came at him growling and snarling. Both had been hit and were bleeding, but not enough to go down.
He felt more than heard the hollow thump as the bolt of the M4 locked back on an empty magazine. He had a single full magazine remaining in his left cargo pants’ pocket, but he dismissed the idea of attempting a fast reload in this kind of situation. The hybrids would be on him before he could even get the magazine out. Also, he wasn’t sure his extra-long claws would allow him to handle the thirty-round magazine with much skill. Instead, he reversed his grip on the carbine and brought it down like a club on the head of the first hybrid he came to.
The military-grade weapon was never intended to handle that kind of abuse, and shattered in his hands. But then again, the human head was never intended to handle that kind of abuse either, and came apart pretty much the same way the weapon did.
The last hybrid only slowed down long enough to crawl over his buddy’s body, but that was all the opening Declan needed. He batted the business end of the hybrid’s weapon aside and shoved what was left of his own weapon—part of the upper receiver and the short assault barrel—through the thing’s chest. He must have hit the creature’s heart, because it stopped growling and fell backward to the ground with an extremely satisfying thud.
The entire fight had taken four or five seconds at the most, and yet he still fell like he was moving through molasses as he followed Kendra’s scent. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her screaming. Icy hands gripped his heart. They were hurting her.
He should have scooped up one of the hybrid’s weapons, but he didn’t want to waste the time. He had to get to Kendra before it was too late. He skirted the corner of the building the three hybrids had just come out of and found himself in an open space in the center of the encampment.
Relief surged though him so fast he almost stumbled.
Two big hybrids were hauling Kendra between them, each with a wrenching grip on one arm. Their vicious clawed hands lifted her up so high that her toes couldn’t even touch the ground. Not that she was trying to; she was too busy trying to kick them. But the look of terror on her face was clear. Wherever they were taking her, it scared the hell out of her.
The relief he’d felt earlier disappeared in a wave of fresh fury, and he charged.
The hybrids tossed Kendra aside with a snarl and reached for the rifles strapped across their backs. She bounced across the rocky ground to land in a tangled heap of arms and legs. The rage rolled up in Declan so hot that he didn’t even try to silence the roar that erupted from his throat as he launched himself at the two hybrids.
They had no chance to get a shot off before he reached them, not that it would have helped them if they had. He was so mad that nothing would have stopped him from killing them.
Declan had rarely if ever used his claws in a fight. It had just never seemed natural, and up until a couple of hours ago, he’d never considered his claws long enough to be useful. That had all changed. He slashed his claws in a diagonal sweep across the first hybrid’s chest, from left shoulder to right hip. He put every bit of power that his own muscled shoulders could give him into the strike, roaring again as his blow struck home with a devastating violence he’d never felt before.
The hybrid was dead before it hit the ground.
Declan didn’t wonder why this new form of shifter violence felt so right, so natural. He simply reached across the dead hybrid and ripped the other creature off his feet and threw him to the ground.
The hybrid immediately flipped to his feet, but Declan was just as fast now and had seen the move coming long before the creature even pulled it. The hybrid barely regained his footing before Declan was there to put him back down with a partially closed fist to the left temple.
As he fell to his knees, the hybrid took a blind swipe at Declan’s midsection. If the strike had connected, Declan would have been gutted. But Declan blocked the strike with a low forearm, then brought another crushing blow down on the hybrid’s head, this time directly on top. There was a sharp crack; then the hybrid slumped, lifeless, to the ground.
Declan had the urge to hit the son of a bitch half a dozen times for daring to touch Kendra, but he controlled himself. There were more hybrids—a lot of them—coming. He could both hear them and smell them.
He turned around to look for Kendra, praying she wasn’t hurt.
She pushed herself up on an elbow and tried to roll over onto her back, but she was having a hard time managing it. As if sensing him, she turned to look his way. Her eyes locked with his, but instead of relief, there was only panic in them.
Before he had time to figure out what was going on in her head, a door on the far side of the compound flew off its hinges and crashed to the ground halfway across the camp. The huge hybrid Declan and Kendra had seen that first day stepped out of the building. He took one look at Declan, then swung his gaze on Kendra. The hatred in those red eyes nearly stopped Declan’s heart. Mouth twisting into something that might have been a smile, the hybrid charged.
“Run!” Declan shouted at Kendra.
He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed, but instead rushed the oncoming brute with everything he had. No matter what it took, Declan had to take down this asshole. Declan didn’t know what had happened between Kendra and the hybrid, but his gut told him the creature would make sure she suffered if he got the chance. Declan wasn’t going to let that happen.
Declan collided with the hulk at full speed, smashing into him like a linebacker on a football field. Declan felt something in his shoulder crack but ignored the brief stab of pain. Nothing was going to stop him from killing this monster.
***
By the time Angelo and his team reached the low stone wall along the left side of the compound, hybrids were there to meet them. The only saving grace was that most of them weren’t carrying weapons. Not that it made fighting them any easier. If Ivy and Tanner hadn’t been there, he and the other guys would have been dead a hundred times over. Those two were frigging amazing. If they weren’t up to their necks in hybrids intent on killing them, Angelo would have enjoyed watching Ivy work. He’d never seen anyone move as fast as she did, literally spinning and ducking out of the path of incoming bullets, slashing throats here, ripping out hamstrings there. Hybrids might behave like berserkers, but apparently they weren’t as stupid as Angelo thought, because they quickly began to avoid the section of wall she was on, choosing to try their luck elsewhere.
Tanner was amazing, too, but in a completely different way. He moved in a slower, almost hesitant fashion, like he was thinking about every move before he made it. But while he wasn’t as graceful as Ivy, he still took down a lot of hybrids, only in a much bloodier fashion. Thank God he was on their side.
But even with all the advantages they had going for them—a good defensive position, enough ammo and grenades to get the job done, plus Ivy and Tanner—they were still losing. There were simply too many hybrids, and the flanking action he’d been expecting from Landon hadn’t come.
“Landon!” Angelo shouted into his radio mic as he drilled a hybrid through the forehead. “You can make that appearance anytime now. No need to be fashionably late.”
This was the first time they’d used the radio headsets since getting to Costa Rica, but he wasn’t sure why they bothered. Landon hadn’t responded to any of his calls for backup except to say he and the guys with him had their hands full and would get there when they could.
