“You okay, lady?” the blond guy asked, looking back and forth between her and Max. “This dude messing with you?”
Lana had no desire to get Max in trouble—or a fight. But she needed to get out of the alley, and these two men were as good a distraction as any.
“No, there’s no problem,” she murmured. “I was just leaving.”
She moved to sidestep Max, but he blocked her path again. “Lana, seriously. It’s too dangerous for you out there.”
Lana opened her mouth to tell him that she needed some space to think and wrap her head around everything she’d seen, but she didn’t get the chance because the beefy, dark-haired guy took a swing and blindsided Max with a punch straight to the temple.
She screamed, sure the savage blow had killed him, but Max barely rocked on his feet. Jaw tight, he glared at the guy who’d sucker-punched him, his eyes glowing yellow gold again, a low rumbling growl emanating from his throat.
The sound slipped under Lana’s skin, vibrating there and making her whole body tingle in response. Her teeth were aching so badly she thought they might tear right out of her gums.
In a blur, Max backhanded his attacker across the alley, bouncing the man off the redbrick wall of the far building. Lana was almost certain she heard something crunch and did everything she could to convince herself it had been the brick breaking. A part of her almost swore she could hear the dark-haired man’s heartbeat from where he lay unmoving on the ground. But that was impossible. She couldn’t hear something as subtle as a heartbeat.
Another blur caught her eye, and she turned to catch sight of her other would-be protector launch himself at Max, a wicked-looking knife in his hand.
She opened her mouth to shout a warning, but it was too late. Her throat constricted in terror as the blond man plunged the blade deep into Max’s chest.
Lana hurried over to him only to slide to a halt as Max batted the guy across the alley. He hit the building with a thud and a crunch before dropping noiselessly to the ground. He was still alive—Lana knew because she could hear his heart beating—but he’d definitely need medical attention.
Max turned to look at Lana, his eyes glowing like the high beams of a car, his fangs extended so far she wasn’t sure how they could possibly have been hidden in his jaws, the blade still sticking out from his chest. She took a hesitant step toward him but then stopped as he casually reached down and pulled the knife out of his chest, dropping it to the ground with an irritated flick of his hand.
The glow in his eyes didn’t dim as he regarded her, and she swore time ceased. In the near quiet, she heard his heart pounding loud and fast.
Then the smell hit her nose—metallic, harsh, overpowering.
She had no idea how she knew what the scent was or how she could possibly smell it, but she knew with a certainty it was Max’s blood.
This couldn’t be happening—the sights, the sounds, the smells, the way her body was responding to all of them was too much.
She was running out of the alley before she realized her feet were moving.
“Lana, wait!”
Behind her, she heard Max following. That only fed into the complete panic trampling rampant through her body, and she ran faster. Soon enough, the sound of his footsteps died away, like he’d given up chasing her. The sobs coming from her throat made breathing difficult, but she kept going anyway. She didn’t know where she was running to, but she couldn’t stop.
* * *
Max cursed as he got out of his Camaro and made his way up the walkway to the Masons’ house. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved Lana had sought shelter in her parents’ home or not. Something told him the deputy chief and his wife wouldn’t be very happy to see him. But if he wanted to talk to Lana, he had no choice but to walk up there and ring that doorbell.
Shit, this would have been so much easier if she’d simply gone to Brandy and Miriam’s place. He snorted. Like anything about this was easy.
It had been nearly two hours since the fiasco in the heart of the downtown club area, and Max was hoping Lana had calmed down enough to talk to him. That might have been wishful thinking, considering how scared she’d been earlier.
She hadn’t answered her cell when he’d called—not that he’d expected her to—so he’d stopped by Brandy and Miriam’s apartment, assuming Lana had gone there. But she hadn’t. All he’d accomplished was freaking out the other two women when he’d mentioned he and Lana had gotten into an argument and she’d run off. They weren’t too thrilled to help him find her after that, but he’d finally been able to convince them he was simply worried about her and only wanted to talk.
Brandy had finally called Lana’s cell. Lana’s mother had answered, saying she was there. When Mrs. Mason had asked Brandy if she knew what was going on, Lana’s friend had shot him a look of pure malice when she’d said she had no idea either and that she planned on finding out.
Brandy and Miriam had refused to let him leave, grilling him for ten minutes about what he’d done to their best friend to make her run off in the first place. Max had gotten away only after telling them he loved Lana and had scared her by getting too real, too fast. It was the best he could come up with on the fly, and it wasn’t exactly a lie.
It wasn’t the truth, either. In reality, his attempt to convince Lana she was a werewolf had been a complete train wreck. Why hadn’t he waited until he could sit down with Gage or Cooper or Khaki—or anyone else in the Pack? Hell, since Lana was a beta, it probably would have been better to have another beta explain it to her. Maybe they could have done that bonding thing betas did, and everything would have been fine.
Instead, he’d shifted right in front of her, completely blowing her mind in the middle of downtown Dallas. What was he, stupid?
You’re not stupid, a little voice in his head whispered. You’re scared.
That call from Peterson had rattled him. The moment the homicide detective had confirmed both their John Doe and Denise had been dosed with animal tranquilizer, he’d known hunters were involved. After that, the pieces had started to fall into place so fast Max had almost hyperventilated. The John Doe had probably been hanging around Lana’s apartment building because he’d most likely been obeying the same pack-building instincts the omegas in Dallas had been feeling. The hunters had gotten the omega and somehow figured out there was a female werewolf living in Austin. They’d busted in to Lana’s apartment and darted Denise, only realizing after the tranquilizers had rendered the girl nearly unconscious that she wasn’t a werewolf. But they’d tortured her anyway simply because they were vicious bastards.
