“Text me the address, I’ll go there now. But I’m solo out here. Officially, I’m at home recovering from the Flu before desk duty in the morning.”
“Got it. Damn bitch.”
“She couldn’t have saved me from desk duty. All she would have accomplished was getting herself locked up, too. If she’s putting pressure on the canine side, then that’s a good thing.” At least that was one perspective. The other was that she’d been playing him from the beginning.
But damn it, no matter what his head said, his gut told him something completely different. His instincts said she was on the level but in way over her head. Anybody who was willing to poison an entire city wasn’t going to hold back when it came to hurting his own sister. Or daughter. Ryan just had to do his job and hope that she was able to do hers. Though the restraint twisted up his guts.
Ryan caught a taxi and was pleased to see signs of the city coming back to life. Cars were on the road, storefronts were open for business, and no one looked like they were about to riot. Lots of people were still out with the Flu thanks to the tainted water, but no more poison was being dumped into the supply. It would take a few days, but the crisis would pass and the city would go on stronger than ever. He took a great deal of comfort from that. The bears and wolves might be about to annihilate each other, but the city would survive.
The meeting was being held in an old ceramic tile factory on the edge of wolf territory. He’d arrived nearly an hour before the appointed time, but nobody liked showing up to these things without first scoping the place out. Until the others got here, that would be Ryan’s job.
He started with a slow lope around the whole area, checking out the block of deserted businesses near the closed factory. He was back in his own clothes now, which meant easy-tear sweatpants and tee. It was still too early for him to go grizzly again, but thanks to the serum Frankie had injected him with, he felt closer to the magic than usual. Like he could shift now if he really had to, but it would be at a heavy cost to his body. His badge still hung around his neck, but underneath his shirt so it wasn’t so obvious.
Nothing unusual as far as he could see. At least until he got to the loading dock at the back of the factory. He could smell the wolves long before he got there. They were supposed to meet on the opposite side of the factory, but clearly, the wolves were up to something. He texted Alyssa with a quick update, then crept forward as inconspicuously as he could given that it was an open stretch of concrete, potholes, and the occasional dandelion. Fortunately, the wolves weren’t paying any attention to him.
“This is an insult! Where the hell are they?” It was Emory Wolf’s voice, though more jittery than usual for the normally unflappable alpha.
“Bears aren’t smart enough to tell time,” one of his men joked, and a few others chuckled in response. It took a moment of digging through hazy memories, but eventually Ryan remembered the asshole’s name. It was Wade, the guy who’d drawn a gun on Hazel.
Meanwhile, Emory was clearly pissed off. “Do they want to start a war?” he asked no one in particular. “They’re taunting us.”
Well that was weird. Wolf clearly thought the meeting was now and at a different location than agreed upon. Which meant someone was screwing with Emory because Alyssa never got this kind of detail wrong.
Ryan eased forward, steeling himself to explain the situation. But he didn’t like stepping in blind, especially since he knew Emory never went anywhere without a full contingent of eight bodyguards. He counted only four, which meant there were four more lurking around somewhere.
“Maybe you should text Raoul and tell him that the bears didn’t show. That they want war,” Wade suggested.
Emory turned on the man with an irritated swirl of his elegant suit jacket. “I’ll tell Raoul what he needs to know when he needs to know it. I’m going to call that prick Simon. At least he’s more rational than Nanook ever was.” He pulled out his phone, but apparently had to concentrate. He was a big man and his phone was small or he was too hopped up on serum to focus well on the tiny screen. His head was bowed in concentration when the attack started.
Two of the men eased behind Emory and raised their hands. Sunlight flashed on brass knuckles outfitted with large metal claws. Damn it, whatever wounds they inflicted would look like they came from bear claws.
“Duck!” Ryan yelled as loud as he could. Then he ran full tilt for the wolf alpha.
Fortunately, Emory had a wolf’s reaction time. He’d leapt two feet away by the time Ryan’s shout finished echoing in the space. Not so fortunate was that he jumped straight into the sneering Wade who had his own set of brass knuckles.
Ryan had the benefit of surprise. He jumped the two guys who’d been about to rip through Emory, but they were both big men with brass claws and superhuman strength. Ryan fought quickly and with a steady hand, but it was a losing battle. He could handle two to one, but as soon as he knocked the closest one on his ass, another stepped into the fray. Not to mention the growls of actual wolves coming from somewhere close by. It would be seconds now until they attacked. And even though Emory was fighting like a demon against Wade and another attacker, he had the same number problem that Ryan did.
It was the same as when Nanook had the hybrids attack him. The sweat, the smell of blood, and the steady, growing ache in muscles that were already well past tired. How many life-or-death fights had he faced in the last week alone? This time added a flash of metal, bright and deadly. He blocked one of the bastards, but pain burst through as metal cut into his forearm. He adjusted just as another blow tore into his shoulder.
Pain. So much pain. He was going to die now.
The knowledge almost felt welcome. Ever since Nanook set the hybrids on him a week ago, Ryan had felt like death was stalking him. He was going to die violently, if not under the hybrids, then in the sewer. And if not there, then now against souped-up werewolves who were staging some kind of pack coup.
He dug deep, searching for an escape. He ducked and pivoted, he watched his opponents and tried to keep track of new threats. And he fought with precision, power in his punches like never before, speed that hadn’t been there two days ago. A dozen times he thought he was too slow to dodge a strike only to hear the whistle of the brass claws slip past him. He closed in with one werewolf, managing to grab its head and twist hard when he shouldn’t have had the speed or the strength. The wolf went down while Ryan spun to take on the next.
He felt the energy of a shift hovering close, but he was in sneakers. It would only take a second to toe them off before shifting, but he didn’t have that kind of time. He could just bust through them, but he knew from experience that it still would foul his footing for some very important seconds. So he stayed as he was and fought as he’d never done before. But even that strength wasn’t bottomless. He started to flag, his breath coming in harsh gasps. He took a hit on his side and felt the hot slick of his blood. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emory go down. The alpha had taken out two of his attackers, one man and one wolf, neither of which was Wade. Ryan had finished off three—two men and one wolf. But that left three more somewhere, still alive and lethal.
Damn it! He wasn’t going to make it. And now Frankie would have no one to back her against her brother. No one to tell her that her father had been betrayed by his own men. And no one to hold her when she sobbed out her grief.
That was unacceptable. He had to survive if only to help her through her pain.
Then something hit him from behind. Claws? A bullet? Who the hell knew? But the force of it threw him forward. He landed on the wolf coming for his throat, startling them both as he rolled to the side. But he was on his back then, his belly exposed and—
Gunshots. Several in rapid fire.
He saw the wolf shudder from the impact. The only reason Ryan hadn’t been hit yet was because he was on the ground already. But that wouldn’t last. He had to get up. He had to move away while the wolves were distracted.
He rolled to his stomach and crawled. His leg wasn’t working right. Neither was either one of his arms. Still, he dragged himself a foot, maybe two. But in the end, he realized he’d failed. Not only himself this time, but Frankie, too. The thought stole the last of his strength. Not in an ebb of power. Not in the way of a slowly dimming light.
