Chapter Thirteen
Boots hit the ground as soon as the vehicles came to a halt. The last part of the run had been made without sirens, so thefoxenwouldn’t be alerted to their arrival. They could only hope the people who’d taken Ivy weren’t aware she could communicate with Rory inruhi.
It was clear at once they were in the right place, from the vehicles parked around a large farmhouse, and the stench offoxen. There must be a couple of dozen of them at least; the air was thick with their musk. Rory clasped Brady’s hand in silent thanks. Brady clapped his shoulder.
Wade Lombard and the Chief strode towards each other and stopped, and there was a brief crackle of dominant energy in the air before they shook hands.
“Your guys can take the perimeter,” Wade said. “We’d appreciate the backup.”
The Chief shook his head. “We’re going in,” he insisted. “You want to keep Rory out of there, you’re going to have to kill him.”
“Khain Special Response Team,” Wade shot back. “It’s in the damn name, Chief. This is what we’re trained for.”
“And I’m glad you’re here, believe me.” The Chief looked over at Rory. “But Ivy’s his mate,” he said. “She’s his responsibility; his to keep safe.” He hesitated. “Oursto keep safe.”
Wade lifted his chin and watched the Chief through narrowed eyes for a long, tense moment. Then he nodded tersely.
“As soon as there’s awhiffof Khain crossing over from thePravus, this becomes KSRT business and you get the hell out of our way. Until then, me and my boys have got your backs.”
Thewolvenspread out silently, some of them heading around to the rear of the farmhouse to make sure none of thefoxencould get out that way with their captive. If any of thefoxentried to run, they’d run into a bottleneck of cops in full combat gear, not to mention Trent and Troy, who bared their teeth and growled eagerly at the feral scent in the air.
Not that thefoxenwere likely to try to flee. More likely they’d attack the squad in full force as they went in through the front. Facing down enragedbearenwould be nothing compared to what Khain would do to them if they let one of the One True Mates slip through their paws.
Sure enough, as Rory took point and kicked the front door open,foxencame at them in a tidal wave of snarling, snapping russet fur.
The twins Jasper and Jake immediately shifted, bursting out of their turnout jackets and pants, towering above the squad as the rest of the men swarmed into the building, throwing open doors and calling Ivy’s name.
Rory was aware that his voice was harsh and desperate, because sometime around when the sole of his boot had hit the door, Ivy’s voice in his head had gone quiet.
Jasper gave a bellow that jarred his spine, and swiped at a fox with his gigantic paw. It crashed against the doorframe and dropped to the ground, neck broken and head lolling.
At his side, his twin Jake scooped up a fox andbowledit at its oncoming brethren, sending them scattering like yelping ninepins.
Three of the creatures had leaped on the Chief as he made his way deeper into the house; one had its jaws clamped around his calf, dark blood staining its muzzle, while two of them jumped and snapped, trying to tear at his belly or throat.
Jasper seized one of the foxes by its tail and swung it against the wall, then dropped its limp body, not caring whether it was unconscious or dead. The Chief prised open the other’s jaws and swung back with his uninjured leg to kick it away, then turned, even as the last clamped its teeth shut on his arm, to help Brady, who had gone down under the weight of half a dozen of the vicious, bloodthirsty animals.
Rory pressed on into the building, checking that each room was clear before moving on to the next. All the time he called Ivy’s name, using both his voice and his mind. Was she unconscious? Or worse? She had to know he was coming for her, so what else could be stopping her from calling out to him?
At the end of the corridor,foxenstood guard on either side of the door, in human form. Rory broke into a run. She had to be in that room. He was vaguely aware that Ben was on his six as he collided with one of the guards, knocking him to the ground and feeling a grim surge of satisfaction as his skull made an unpleasantly hollow-sounding noise against the floorboards.
The guy was stronger than he looked, almost succeeding in flipping Rory onto his back, but Rory was desperate, and he drew back his fist and cold-cocked him with single hard punch to the jaw.
Ben was trading blows with the other guard, and it looked like he was having fun. Too much fun, maybe. But one guard was out cold and the other was distracted.
“Ivy!” he called, rattling the door handle. It was locked. “Ivy!” He raised his voice and listened for her response. Nothing. Or…maybe just the faintest gasp, on the very edge of hearing.
Dreading what he’d see, he stepped back and kicked the door open, catching it as it rebounded back towards him and pushing through it.
Ivy was standing behind a kneelingfoxenwoman, the chain between her handcuffs wrapped around the woman’s throat. Ms. Renard, he presumed – the phoney property manager. She was gurgling and clawing at the chain as Ivy pulled it tighter, throttling her.
“You took your sweet time,” Ivy said, teeth clenched with effort.
Rory couldn’t do anything but gawp. “You stopped answering me,” he said. “I thought you were dead.”
“I was a little…busy”, she said tersely, and on the last word she gave the chain a final hard yank and thefoxenwoman slumped, unconscious.
