“We need to go,” Jake said, striding past her and heading down the hallway away from the steps. “We’re about to have more company.”
Jes didn’t ask how Jake knew that. She simply chased after him.
The fight with Damien must have caused him some serious damage, but Jake carried Misty without slowing down. They were almost at the end of the corridor when she heard the thud of footsteps on the stairs behind them.
Jes glanced over her shoulder to see at least ten armed men reaching the third floor. That was bad enough. But then Damien sat up, shirt covered in blood and looking pissed as hell…and not nearly as dead as he should be. Suddenly, the group of armed men didn’t seem like a big deal. Damien worried her way more.
Turning, she sprayed the men—and Damien—with half the rounds in the magazine just to make them duck, then ran after Jake again. She expected him to seek refuge in the last room along the hallway. Instead, he yanked open the french doors at the end of the corridor with one hand, exposing a small Juliet balcony.
What the hell were they going to do with that? It wasn’t like they could hide out there. The balcony was too shallow. Besides, Damien and the rest of Darby’s men had already seen where they were headed.
Jes was about to ask Jake as much when he gently placed Misty on the floor. Before she could question the move, he turned, put both hands on Jes’s waist, then swung her over the metal railing of the balcony, holding her by one wrist and dangling her like a toy.
“When I let you go, grab the railing of the veranda below us,” he said, dark eyes intent on hers.
Wait. What?
Jes opened her mouth to tell him he was insane—that she wasn’t a werewolf with superstrength and animallike reflexes like him—but she was already falling. She released the pistol she didn’t even realize she was holding, somehow miraculously grabbing the railing on the second-floor veranda before she fell to her death.
Crap.It felt like her shoulders were being ripped out of their sockets.
She was never doing that again.
Jes was still hanging there in midair when she felt as much as heard Jake leap past her. She looked down just in time to see him land on his feet on the lawn below her, Misty wrapped firmly in his arms.
He’d jumped from the third floor of a building—with someone in his arms—and landed on hisfeet.
Double crap.
Setting Misty on the ground, he scooped up the automatic pistol Jes had dropped, firing it at something above her. She flinched when the bullets struck the metal balcony, but then felt like cheering when the men up there grunted as other bullets struck flesh.
“Let go!” he shouted to Jes before shooting another volley at the floor above her. “I’ll catch you.”
That idea was even crazier than the first one, but Jes did it, falling at a dizzying speed. She opened her mouth to scream, unable to stop herself, but then strong arms snatched her out of the air before setting her on her feet. She barely had a chance to catch her balance before Jake grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the manor.
He scooped up Misty in one arm on the way even as bullets kicked up the grass all around them. Seconds later, the big Rolls-Royce SUV was barreling across the lawn toward them, Harley at the wheel. The moment it skidded to a stop, Forrest jumped out of the passenger seat to take Misty from Jake while Caleb got out of the back and fired a MAC-10 machine gun at the remaining men on the third floor. Jes wasn’t sure if he hit anyone, but they sure as hell ducked.
Jake led Jes past Caleb and practically shoved her into the backseat, then jumped in after her, deftly climbing over her to take the window. The big omega followed, sitting on the other side of her and yanking the door closed as Harley floored it, tearing the grass to all hell as they sped away. Bullets thumped into the metal around them, but nothing got through.
Jes glanced out the rear window to see Darby and Damien standing at the tiny third-floor balcony, the fury on their faces clear even at this distance.
Turning back around, she looked toward the front seat, where Forrest was cradling a still-unconscious Misty on his lap. Jes prayed she’d be okay.
Sighing, she relaxed into the seat to find Jake regarding her silently, his eyes glowing golden yellow, his jacket torn in numerous places, and the bruise on his jaw, along with the cut on his cheek, already fading.
For a second, her heart stopped at the sight of that golden gaze. Damien—she was sure it’d been him—had eyes like that the night he’d torn Jaime and Neal to shreds.
She immediately rebuked herself. Jake was nothing like Damien. He’d saved her butt—and Misty’s—not more than sixty seconds ago.
Jes replayed the part of the aforementioned rescue when she’d let go of the railing and Jake had caught her, cushioning her two-story fall as if she were as light as a feather. It was nearly overwhelming to think about how strong he had to be to do something like that.
As she found herself being drawn deeper into those mesmerizing gold eyes, another thought occurred to her. When had she started trusting Jake enough to do something as certifiable as let go of that railing and take it on faith he’d catch her?
Jes had no answer to that question, and as the Rolls smashed through the gates of the manor and kept going, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to answer it.
“Is Damien a werewolf?” she asked.
Jake shook his head. “No.”
