She glanced toward him.
“We’ll turn the corner up here,” he told her, inclining his head slightly, “then we’ll go in the room on the left.”
“I thought we were going for the exit.”
Boots pounded behind them. More guards. Would these guys be as clueless as the others? Hopefully. If not, then he’d just kill them.
“We are heading for the exit,” he explained, keeping his voice low. “I can smell fresh air coming from that place.” His nose was even better than a wolf shifter’s. Actually, since he’d taken Sabine’s blood, all of his senses seemed to be working overtime.
“Walk faster,” she told him as she started to double-time her steps. Had she heard the guards, too?
They rounded the corner.
Ryder kept following that fresh air scent. He didn’t want to run. He wanted to turn and fight all those fools following him. To have a bloodbath just like in the old days.
But I can’t risk her.
So he clenched his teeth and shoved into the room on the left.
A small window waited. One covered with bars. An office. Barely ten feet long. It smelled of humans. There were half-eaten snacks scattered on a table. A breakroom?
A breaking-out room. He headed for the window. Yanked on the bars.
The footsteps were coming closer.
The bars snapped in his hands. “Come on!” He all but tossed her through the window.
But then another alarm began to blast. One that was coming from the exterior of Genesis. Got it rigged so no one gets out, huh? Too bad, we’re out. Ryder shoved his own body through the narrow window. Chunks of plaster and brick rained down on him as he broke not just the window, but the weak wall surrounding it. Unlike the walls in his cell, this room wasn’t reinforced. Probably because it wasn’t a place for prisoners.
Before he’d even cleared the window, Sabine grabbed his arm. The woman was actually trying to help drag him out of the building. Cute. He didn’t need any help. “Run!” he ordered.
She kept her hold on him. Didn’t run until he did. Unexpected. It looked like Sabine wasn’t the type to leave a partner behind. He’d remember that tidbit about her. Then they were rushing toward the line of trees before them. Guards raced into their path, ready to cut off their escape. The guards had big, shiny guns.
Big fucking deal. He had big, sharp teeth—and he was about to let his claws out. Claws that would make a shifter envious. Had, actually, on plenty of occasions in the past.
He grabbed Sabine’s arm and shoved her behind him.
“Stop!” one of the guards yelled. “Raise your arms and—”
Ryder didn’t stop. Bullets tore into his shoulder and stomach.
He kept running. Grabbed the nearest guard. Broke his arm. Took his gun. Shot back at the others who were foolish enough to still be trying to stop him.
And, even though he’d tried to push her back, Sabine was there. Fighting at his side. Snatching up a gun when it fell from another guard’s hands, and then whirling to fire—because they had more company coming at them from the south.
A quick glance showed Ryder that Wyatt had sent a heavy force outside. He easily counted ten guards—and there, in the middle was Richard Fucking Wyatt himself. “Shoot the prick,” Wyatt snarled at Sabine.
And damn if she didn’t.
Sabine raised her gun. Aimed. Fired.
Richard tried to dodge at the last minute, but the bullet still ripped deep into his chest.
The woman was one very fine shot.
But when she fired, all of the guards lifted their weapons.
Ryder snarled. He grabbed Sabine and turned, cradling her in his arms.
A hail of bullets hit him. Thudding hard into his back. Some even ripped out of his chest as they tunneled all the way through him. He held his body steady, refusing to buckle as the agony burned through him. So many bullets.
Keep her safe. Keep her—
Sabine gasped and her body jerked within his arms.
“Stop! Stop! Dammit, put down your weapons!”
That voice. No way. It couldn’t be . . .
Footsteps pounded toward him. Ryder didn’t turn, not yet. He’d wait, let them think he was weak, then he’d whirl and attack.
“Ry-Ryder . . .” Sabine shuddered against him. “H-help . . .”
His gaze dropped to her. Her face was so pale in the bright sunlight. Her eyes too dark. And . . .
He eased his body away from hers. Blood soaked her shirt.
His blood. It had to be his blood. He’d taken the bullets to protect her.
Her body sagged.
It . . . wasn’t just his blood.
Her blood.
The guards were surrounding him then. He didn’t give a fuck. Carefully, Ryder lowered Sabine to the ground. The grass was green and soft—and already getting soaked with her blood.
There were bullet holes in her chest. He’d tried so hard to shield her but the bullets went through me and into her.
“You’re dead,” he promised, savagery rising in him, a dark force that he didn’t try to control.
Sabine’s eyes widened. She tried to speak.
No, not you . . . Not. You.
His fingers were so gentle as he stroked her cheek.
The guards were dead. They were the ones he was sending to hell. He bit his wrist. Let the blood flow. Brought the wound to her mouth. He wasn’t letting her die. Wasn’t going to watch her burn.
“Are we really doing this again?” that familiar voice drawled. A voice that should belong to a dead man.
Sabine’s lips feathered over his wrist. She was drinking. Good. Yes.
But his head turned and—sure enough—Richard Wyatt was striding toward him. Wyatt’s shirt was red with blood, the guy’s face appeared strained, but he was advancing just fine.
She hit him in the heart. I know she did. Even if she hadn’t, no human could be up and walking after a hit like that.
Not human.
Wyatt’s lips quirked a bit as he met Ryder’s stare. “Move away from Twenty-Nine, and let’s get back inside.”
Twenty-nine? What the hell?
One of the guards sprang at Ryder.
Enough.
Ryder surged to his feet and broke the guard’s neck. Shattered the collarbone of another and grabbed the bastard’s gun. Fired—
Fire?
“I don’t believe your blood can stop her death this time,” Richard murmured as he cocked his head to the side.
Ryder whirled back around. Sabine had taken his blood. She should have been all right. She should have been—
No heartbeat. He didn’t hear Sabine’s heart.
And he could already smell smoke.
“No!” He fell to the ground beside her. More guards were coming. Screw them. He’d told Sabine that he’d get her out of that hell, but she was about to burn anyway.
“It’s easier to contain her before the shift.” Richard’s voice. “Dose them both. Keep firing at her until she begins to rise. You’ll have to time the attack just right.”
Her skin was heating beneath his touch.
He felt sharp pricks on his back. Harder punches, too. The backup guards were dosing him with that SP tranq. Right then, he didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t moving from her side.
Not until she was back with him.
She rose once. She’ll rise again. “Come on,” he whispered to her. “Come back!” Because he didn’t know exactly where Sabine went when she died and part of him was afraid to find out.
Afraid . . . when he hadn’t feared anything in the last thousand years. Not since he’d put the last of his family in the ground.