Ryon gripped the edge of the desk, sweat dripping onto the surface. Horror consumed him, robbed his speech.
August nodded. “Everything was planned. Your team pulled together beautifully, and afterward we focused our research on other areas, such as how to create an even stronger, more lethal shifter. A legion of super-soldiers. Until things began to go wrong.”
“You mean until the Alpha Pack turned on its creator, and began to dismantle the project.”
Nick! Nick, did you know? Please, tell me you didn’t. The commander remained silent.
“Exactly. Thanks to someone of power who’s helping the Pack, guiding them from afar.” As though suddenly remembering the gun in his hand, he leveled it at them more squarely. “And you’re going to tell me who it is, or I’ll kill you both.”
August doesn’t know. He has no idea General Jarrod Grant is our ally.
“I don’t fucking think so, you sonofabitch!”
Moving fast, he launched himself at August.
The deafening blast of the gunshot, and Daria’s terrified scream, tore into Ryon as he fell.
Fourteen
Ryon yelled, throwing himself at August, and all hell broke loose.
A gunshot blasted the air, and the two men crashed to the floor, grappling for the weapon. They rolled, and Ryon landed a punch to August’s jaw with his free hand. Daria bent and snatched the SIG off the floor, hoping to get a shot at August.
“Daria, go! There’s no time!” Ryon shouted.
She hesitated, but knew he was right. A crash sounded somewhere in the house, followed by pounding feet. If she distracted him by not following his order, he’d lose focus on the fight and they would both die for nothing. She hated leaving the pack with their supplies, but they had no choice now. Speed was everything, and all they had to do now was make the rendezvous point. Praying Ryon would follow, she turned, released her wolf and shifted, and dove headfirst through the plate-glass window.
Daria’s first thought was that that stunt always looked so easy in the movies. Her second, that she’d probably scalped her hide on the glass even through her thick fur. She rolled to her feet, shaking off her clothes and the shards of glass that rained like confetti, and hit the ground running as though the hounds of hell were on her heels.
Shouts. Curses. Rapid-fire gunshots.
The security floodlights bathed the compound, bright as daytime. Any second she expected a bullet to plow into her back and end her life. Or Ryon’s. God, where was he?
Two men were closing in fast on her right, shouting, “Stop!”
No freaking way was she going to do that, so why did the bad guys always yell something so stupid? She saw them raise their rifles. A scream welled in her throat, but came out as a pitiful whimper. Her headlong flight, along with sheer terror, had sucked the air from her lungs. The back wall loomed near, but she wasn’t going to make it. They were going to kill her.
Daria braced herself, but no bullets ripped through her body. Swiveling her head as she ran, she saw Ryon coming across the lawn after her, half-limping, rifle trained on the two goons. Their bodies jerked, and fell. He stopped, spun, and sprayed more bullets toward the shattered office window.
Reaching the wall, Daria’s wolf had no trouble scaling it in about two seconds flat, and she flung herself over. Three steps, and she was plunged into total darkness. Chest heaving, she halted and tried to figure her next move. A thud and a crunch of leaves alerted her that someone had come over the wall. She swung around in terror.
“Daria?” Ryon called.
Thank God. She shifted and held out a hand. “Right here. Take about three steps.”
“All right,” he said, breathing hard. “Let me put on the night vision goggles and I’ll come to you. Are you hurt?”
“I—I’m not sure. Maybe my head, from the glass. Lost my clothes when I shifted and ran, too. What about you?”
A hesitation. “I’m fine. Okay, I see you.” He stepped up and grabbed her hand. “I’ve got on the goggles, and I’ll lead the way. You’re going to have to trust me to be our eyes, but I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Hang on tight to the strap on my pack. If you accidentally lose your hold, yell and I’ll get you.”
“Wouldn’t it be better just to ditch our stuff now, shift, and run to meet the team in wolf form? We’re done with the op, and we’d make better time.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t hold my shift, baby,” he rasped. “I’m too sick.”
“It’s okay,” she reassured him. “We’ll make it.”
“Here, put these on.” Rustling in the pack, he threw a spare set of clothes at her, and some shoes.
They were hers, and she realized he’d grabbed her pack as well as his, plus the weapons. Bless him. Ryon muttered an oath and moved around her, placing her left hand on his pack. She found the strap and locked it in a death grip, the SIG in her right hand.
Daria tugged on the strap. “Ready.”
Ryon starting walking fast, beating a path through the forest. She couldn’t see a damned thing, and had to console herself with the fact that he could see just fine. If they ran into August’s men or some other vile creature, Ryon would know.
Daria stumbled upon occasion but managed, for the most part. He was careful to move slowly and tell her when to step over a fallen tree or duck to avoid a branch in the face. Even so, having her movement restricted by hanging on to him proved a tedious way to hike. Before long, her arms and shoulders ached. Better than getting lost, however.
The tough trek helped focus her attention away from what she really longed to do—find a nice, soft bed and sleep for a year with her mate curled around her like a second skin.
Then she became aware of something. “Ryon, stop and listen.”
He did, and they stood, drinking in the usual nighttime symphony.
“They’re not following us. Damn.”
Dread pricked at her. “And that’s a bad thing? What’re you thinking?”
“My best guess is that August’s calling in his men who are already out there looking for us. If I were him, I’d have them form a dragnet around us. That’s why they aren’t giving chase. He’s not worried about catching us.”
Ryon let out a deep breath, which ended on a slight wheeze. He coughed a couple of times, then slumped sideways. When he didn’t fall, she reached out with her gun hand and came into contact with bark. He was leaning against a tree.
She frowned. “What happened back there between you and my uncle? Are you really all right?”
“I wanted to send him to the devil where he belongs, but his men were storming the house. I had to either let him go and run, or stay to finish him, and die.”
His voice was thick and strange, not like Ryon at all. She didn’t like it one bit.
“How’s the leg?” she pressed.
“Still holding me upright.”
Okay, but not for long. “Are we stopping here? You need to rest.”
“We’re not making camp tonight. Have to . . . keep moving.” Another cough, and a shudder.
Daria stuck the SIG in the waistband of her fatigues and reached for him. Her fingers found his neck, and skimmed up to his stubbled cheek. “You’re burning up!”
“No help for it.” He straightened, relaying his plan as though he wasn’t about to collapse. “Listen, we have to divert from our course in a major way, or they’re going to surround us.”
“How about turning just to the south?” she suggested.
Ryon nodded. “When we locate a suitable place for the helicopter to lift us out, I’ll tell Nick, and the guys will be on the way. Shouldn’t take them but a couple of hours to get to us.”