Ric saw Cella crouching near the corner of the house. He snarled a little and she looked at them over her shoulder. Using hand signals, she told them how many men were back there—a lot—and the distance they were away from them. She also mouthed, Eggie, and pointed up, meaning he was in one of his more comfortable positions—sniper.
Nodding he understood, Ric mouthed, Marcus?
She took another look, glanced back at them and shook her head, shrugged.
Ric put his hand on Mace’s shoulder. “We’ll get him,” he whispered next to Mace’s ear. Because the last thing he needed was for this lion to flip a switch and get himself, his wife, and their son killed. But, thankfully, years of Navy training had Mace Llewellyn nodding and ready to finish this.
Taking off his tux jacket, removing the bowtie from around his throat, and loosening his collar, Ric pulled his gun and nodded to Mace and Lock. They began to inch forward when Cella suddenly stood. “Shit!” she yelped and bolted forward.
Deciding stealth would have to wait, they all followed.
Hannah lay in a fetal position, fists and the butts of rifles battering her. Now that she no longer had Marcus in her arms, she was sure they’d kill her, but they quickly lost interest. Instead, assuming she was out or too hurt to move, they went after Abby.
Hannah lifted her head, looking around. That’s when she saw Blayne lying a few feet away from her, her knife sticking out of her side. She looked into Hannah’s eyes and held her hand out. “Marcus,” she said. “Please. Get Marcus.”
Tears clouded Hannah’s sight as she slowly, painfully pushed herself to her feet. Not tears of self-pity or sadness, but tears of rage.
The men who’d turned their attention to tracking down Abby and Marcus seemed to sense that Hannah was right behind them. Slowly, they faced her, a few raising their weapons, some of them laughing at her.
“Good God,” one joked. “She’s fucking crying.”
But they didn’t understand, did they? They’d never understand that they’d managed to spark the one thing Hannah had been fighting so hard to avoid all these months—her temper.
She roared, and a few of the men dropped their weapons in sheer terror from that powerful sound alone. Several of the windows in Dez’s house broke and Hannah bolted toward the men, shifting from her human form to the form that had brought in the big money on the fight circuit. Some men screamed and tried to run, some just stared and lost control of their bowels or bladders but Hannah didn’t stop, hurtling forward before any of them could ever hope to move. And using her six-inch claws, four-inch fangs, and not a bit of rational thought, Hannah began to rip and tear human males apart.
Desiree grabbed Dee’s arm when they heard the roar and glass breaking. “Jesus Christ, Dee? What is that?”
Clueless, Dee stood. But before she could head back into the kitchen, human males sped through it, making a crazed dash for the front door.
Which was where her team and KZS caught up with them.
Dee and Desiree ran into the kitchen. They came face to face with more men and Dee used her knife to cut throats while Desiree sidestepped around the falling bodies. They tore through the room and out the back door, but both stopped at the top of the stairs where they had an amazing view of what was happening in Desiree’s backyard.
“What is that thing?” Desiree asked.
“That’s . . .” Dee almost laughed. “Darlin’, that’s Hannah.”
Desiree only had a moment of surprise before both females had to duck as what was left of someone’s leg winged past their heads.
From the roof, Dee’s daddy methodically took out scumbag after scumbag with his sniper rifle, not letting anything distract him from what he was doing, which was good. Because so much was going on.
Malone ran past the bottom of the stairs and Dee watched her, panic setting in when she saw Malone drop to her knees by Blayne.
“Shit!” Dee jumped over the banister, easily landing and rushing to Blayne’s side.
“Marcus,” Blayne kept saying. “Get Marcus.”
“Where is he, Blayne?” Dee asked and Blayne pointed over at Hannah who was in the middle of separating a man’s body from his head.
“Blayne!” Ric and Lock ran to her side, Ric examining the wound.
“Get the medical team over here,” he told Malone.
“Marcus,” Blayne kept insisting.
“I’ll get him, Blayne,” Dee promised.
She stood, ready to battle her way over to Hannah’s side and, hopefully, to Marcus. But she could quickly see that there was no need to battle anywhere. Between her daddy and Hannah—there was nothing left to fight.
Lowering her gun and knife, Dee headed toward a heaving, blood and gore-covered Hannah.
Dee stood in front of her, holstering her weapon and slipping her blade back in its sheath. “Where’s Marcus, Hannah?”
Still in what could only be described as an interesting mix of grizzly and dog form, Hannah walked over to a big tree and pressed her claws into the base of it.
Dee, Desiree, and Mace stood behind her, waiting.
That’s when a female head peeked out from under all the leaves. Big brown eyes gazed at them and she let out a relieved breath. “Thank God.”
She disappeared again, leaves rustling, and when she jumped down, she held a sobbing but healthy Marcus in her arms.
Seeing his mother, Marcus screamed, arms outstretched. “Maaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
Desiree rushed forward, grabbing her son away from the naked female, and holding the boy against her body.
Shaking, Mace put his arms around his wife and son, held them close and Dee looked at the female who’d helped keep Marcus safe. After a moment, she asked in disbelief, “Abby?”
Abby gave a little wave. “Hiya, Dee.”
CHAPTER 32
Ric watched as Blayne Thorpe slowly opened her eyes and looked around the hospital room she was in. She gazed at Gwen, Ric, Dee, Lock, her father, Ezra Thorpe, and, eventually, her gaze returned to Gwen. That’s when Blayne wailed, “I’m dead!”
They all jerked a little and Gwen snapped, “No you’re not!”
“Then why are you here? In a hospital? In what you so lovingly call a ‘death trap’?” Blayne demanded. “And how can you even hear me if I’m on another plane of existence?”
“Plane of . . .” Gwen snarled and claws sporting the Philadelphia Eagle’s team colors extended from her hands. “You idiot, you are not dead. You’re recovering from a stab wound to the side—but you’re not dead!”
“Don’t yell at me when I’m the one who’s dead! Who had so much to live for!”
“You are not dead, Blayne, but I can easily change that fact.”
“If you’re my spirit guide to the next world . . . you’re not very good at it. Perhaps you should seek another line of work. Like Angel of Death or something.” Blayne looked at her father and waved. “ ’Bye, Daddy. I’ll miss you so.”
Ric glanced over at the wolf and all Ezra Thorpe could do was shrug and admit, “I adored her mother and she made me promise to always take care of her. No matter how idiotic she may be acting.”
“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” Blayne demanded.
“Sir!” one of the nurses called from outside the hospital room. “I’m sorry but you can’t go in there. There are too many people already. Sir!”
Bo Novikov, ignoring the nurses trying to stop him, stomped into the room. He still had on his training gear without the skates or helmet. They’d asked Eggie to go get him because they’d rightly assumed he was the one male completely unafraid of the Neanderthal.