Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Not that that was going to last.
His boots grabbed for traction as he rounded the trunk of the car that he’d stolen a lifetime ago, and as soon as he had cover, he all but tossed his cousin’s body to the ground like it was a log.
A sharp whistle brought his head around, and Apex threw him something. Oh, look. Fucking Christmas.
Lucan caught the gun he’d given the male and didn’t check to see how many bullets were in the magazine. He just popped off rounds as his mate did the same—while Apex jumped in the back of the car and moved those two injured males down in their seats.
“I’m out of bullets,” Rio said.
This was announced just as Lucan squeezed his own trigger and came up with a big, fat nothing. And the guards were no dummies. The instant there was a breather in the ammunition shower coming at them, they got their lead back on, the Monte Carlo now functioning as a bunker, all kinds of metallic drumroll making Lucan wonder how long it was going to take for that gas tank to get hit and light them all up like a Roman candle.
Given what Kane had already been through, there was no reason to volunteer the prisoner for another BBQ.
He looked at his mate. “You have to drive out. It’s the only way—”
The shattering of safety glass was an explosion of sparkles, everything going disco in the moonlight as the window of the open rear door got hit at just the right angle. Jumping on his mate, he covered her with his body.
And heard the shouts of the guards.
They were getting ready to advance with all guns blazing.
Lucan unsheathed that knife again. Closed his eyes. Breathed in deep.
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear.
She twisted around and grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with fear. “No, you don’t go up there.”
“Fresh out of options and you know it. When I give you the chance, you take it and get them all out of here—”
“I’ll go.”
As the male voice interrupted, the two of them turned their heads to Apex.
Considering the source of the offer, Lucan was as stunned as if the Gray Wolf herself had appeared from out of the ether and announced, I’ll take it from here, boys.
Lucan opened his mouth—
Right as the screaming started up on the road.
* * *
One by one, they came on stretchers.
Back at the prison camp’s makeshift clinic, Nadya stepped aside as guards brought in her new patients, one after another after another. And even though the uniformed and heavily armed males were in charge, they waited for her to indicate where to and which bed.
She had heard talk that they were mercenaries, but they obviously had some care for each other. Or maybe they were just worried what the head of the guards would do to them if there were no more guards for her to be head of.
Seven beds. That was all Nadya had. Well, six—
“No,” she said sharply. “You may not put him there.”
Not where Kane had lain. Never.
When there was no more room—that she would allow—she directed the incoming to an empty stretch of shelving.
“Pull those two vacant sections together. Suspend the stretchers between them, so that their horizontal supports form a kind of bed frame. It’s the best we can do.”
The guards didn’t hesitate, didn’t question. The ones that were empty-handed followed her orders, hefting that which would have been dead weight to her across the floor, and arranging the banks of shelves just as she’d prescribed. And the system worked, the stretchers turning into hammocks.
“We need to put them higher so I can duck beneath them—”
Two more patients were brought into the storage room.
She nodded to the makeshift bunk. “Over there—no, wait. Not him. I need to see… him.”
The guards brought the second of the males over, and Nadya regarded the injured as if from a vast distance. As a result of a neck wound, the front of his uniform was stained with fresh blood, his loose, black, many-pocketed shirt like a sponge that wasn’t doing a very good job. Below the belt, there was another gunshot in the thigh, and some ancillary injuries at the knees.
His face was pale and streaked with dirt and blood. His eyes were closed. His mouth was lax, the fangs sheathed and flashing white in the midst of the pink foam that had bubbled up out of his throat.
He was an utter stranger whose face she would never forget.
“Put him over there.” She pointed to Kane’s bed. “He will go there.”
After they placed the patient where she told them to, the males stood around, like robots looking for assignments.
“Where are my supplies,” she demanded.
“They’re coming,” one of them answered.
“Go get them now and bring them to me. Some of these males are dying.”