“What the hell was that?” Quinn shouted.
He pulled a large pistol from behind his back, waving it around like he thought whatever hit the car was going to join them in it any second. Triana didn’t have a clue what was happening, but she knew it had something to do with Remy. She could feel him out there.
In the front seat, Lee was brushing glass off his clothes and telling the driver to get the hell back on the highway. But the streets were a little tighter in this part of town, forcing the man to slow down as he looked for a place to turn around. The Ninth Ward had been the section of the city hit the hardest during Katrina. Some of the structures had been rebuilt, but there were still a lot of abandoned and overgrown homes too. It was hard to see this part of town and not realize that a lot of people had never recovered from the storm.
Triana peered out the side window, looking for Remy, when the window in the driver’s side door suddenly shattered. The next thing she knew, the driver was gone, getting ripped out of the car and disappearing into the darkness with a scream.
Quinn cursed and threw himself over the front seat, lunging for the wheel, but it was too late. Triana ducked as the front of the Cadillac plowed into an overgrown wall surrounding a dilapidated house. The car hit the brick wall doing at least thirty miles an hour and the impact was loud and violent. Thank God she’d taken the time to put on her seat belt or she would have joined Quinn and Lee in the front seat.
The vehicle ended up perched on the remains of the wall, the front tires off the ground. Triana didn’t wait to see if Quinn and Lee were alive. She popped her seat belt, opened the door, and scrambled out.
She didn’t get more than a few feet before Quinn caught up with her. He wrapped an arm around her neck, yanking her against his chest as he backed away from the car toward the house. His breath was loud in her ear as he pointed his gun in every direction at once. The area didn’t have a lot of streetlamps and the rain was only making it worse. If it wasn’t for the car’s headlights, they’d have had a hard time seeing anything.
Lee joined them a moment later, pulling his pistol out as he squinted into the darkness, trying to see down the street. Triana turned her head to see a man lying there. It might have been the driver of the car, but it was hard to tell at this distance. He wasn’t moving though, that much she was sure of.
Suddenly, an animal darted across the street. It was big and fast—much too big and too fast to be a dog.
Another animal followed the first, this one just as big. Whatever they were, there were two of them.
As the animals slowly came out from behind the building they’d been behind, Triana realized they were wolves. The biggest wolves she’d ever seen in her life. If they’d been standing beside her, their withers would have been level with her hips.
Triana’s breath hitched as the wolves’ glowing yellow eyes pierced the darkness. One of them was Remy. She didn’t know how that was possible, but she instinctively knew it was him.
Eyes fixed on her and the two men, Remy and the other wolf slowly moved toward them, baring their teeth in fierce snarls.
Muttering a curse, Lee turned and ran toward the house behind them, shouting at Quinn to follow. Quinn hesitated for a moment, seemingly torn between shooting at the wolves and retreating. He must have decided discretion was the better part of valor because he lowered his weapon and dragged her toward the dilapidated structure.
When they reached the vine-covered porch, Lee was trying to yank off the boards covering the door.
“Kick in the door,” Lee ordered Quinn, grabbing Triana, keeping her in front of him like a shield as he shoved his gun to her head. “You can’t kill me now that I’m one of you!” he shouted into the night. “If you try to come in here, I’ll execute her right in front of you. Her death will be on you, not me.”
There was a loud crack behind them as Quinn ripped off the boards and tossed them aside. Lee shoved her at his enforcer, who immediately caught her and dragged her into the house. Lee hesitated in the doorway, looking out at the dark street.
The asshole never saw the wolf come at him from the side. One moment Lee was standing there, and the next he was flying off the porch.
Quinn shoved Triana outside, scrambling around as he looked for his boss, but there was no sign of Lee.
Somewhere in the yard, Remy and the other wolf howled. Muttering under his breath, Quinn quickly dragged Triana into the house again. In the glow from the car’s headlights, she could see that they were in someone’s old living room. It smelled like mold, mildew, and rot.
Triana struggled against Quinn, but it was worse than useless. He was simply too strong for her. He didn’t stop pulling her across the room until he had his back up against the far wall.
“Come in here and I’ll shoot her!” Quinn yelled, his voice laced with fear. “And after I kill her, I’ll do the two of you next. I know how to kill monsters.”
There was a low growl at the door as a pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared. There was enough light from the car to see the wolf clearly now. He was even bigger than she realized, lithe, muscular, and graceful. His fur was mostly gray with shades of brown and what could almost be called blond mixed in. Even if his eyes didn’t give him away, Triana still would have known it was Remy.
He was beautiful.
Before Triana realized what was happening, Quinn aimed his gun in Remy’s direction and fired. Triana screamed, but the sound died in her throat as she realized Remy was nowhere in sight. In the time it had taken Quinn to point the weapon and pull the trigger, Remy had darted off. A moment later, he was back in the doorway, teeth bared in a fierce snarl.
“Stay back!” Quinn warned, pointing the weapon at her now. “I’ll do it. I’ll pop her right in the head!”
Triana heard the growl behind the partially intact wall in back of them before Quinn did. Realizing the second wolf was there, he turned his pistol in that direction.
As Quinn moved, his hold on Triana slipped. Remy’s words from the other day echoed in her head. If you only have one chance to hit a person—and it’s life or death—aim for the throat and punch as hard as you can.
Balling her hand into a fist, she spun around and aimed for Quinn’s throat, punching him hard enough for her to feel it all the way through her wrist and up into her arm.
Quinn staggered back with a weird gurgling sound.
