It struck me, suddenly, how lucky he was. How lucky we both were. A werewolf should have been able to snap his neck like a twig, and there was no way I should have just walked away after one shoved me into a wall. Not any time soon. Either some part of Serena was still capable of holding back, or whatever they had done to her had left her with little more strength than a reg.
Ben had been able to control his own version of bloodlust—not much, but a little. Enough that he had tried to fight the urge to kill me.
I pushed the thought away. I didn’t want to believe Serena had bloodlust or anything like it. “How did you call them?” I asked, forcing myself to focus back on Jason. “You told me cells were jammed inside the camp.”
“They are.” He gave me a long, searching stare. “Mac, I . . .” He glanced at the smoky glass and cut himself off from whatever it was he wanted to say. “The doctor stepped out of the infirmary to talk to the guys who brought me upstairs. I used the phone on his desk to call my contact in Denver. With all the extra guards on patrol, I figured there might not be anyone monitoring the outgoing calls. I was right.”
He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in an unruly halo. “I told the Trackers that Sinclair was hiding wolves from the LSRB and putting their welfare above the safety of the regs on staff. I didn’t have time to tell them much, but it was enough for them to want a full report. Enough for them to get me out.”
I stared at him skeptically. “And, what? They asked nicely and she just let us go?”
“They threatened to tell the LSRB about the discrepancy in her registration records. You know how much government agencies like audits. They’d send agents to Thornhill before Sinclair could say ‘investigation.’”
And if she was working on some crazy cure in secret, an investigation was the last thing she’d want.
I sank back against the seat and pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes until starbursts fired behind my closed lids. “She’ll take it out on Kyle and Dex,” I said, slowly lowering my hands. I wanted to throw up. “She’ll make the two of them pay for the fact that we got out—that’s if she doesn’t just make them crazy like Serena.”
“I didn’t have a choice, Mac.”
I didn’t say anything. There was nothing I could say without completely losing it and saying too much. What had given them—both him and Kyle—the right to go behind my back and make secret plans to get me out whether I wanted them to or not?
A small voice in the back of my head pointed out that I wouldn’t have survived one day of Sinclair’s torture. Besides, it whispered, you kept secrets from them, too. You didn’t tell them about the charm or your plan to get Serena and Eve out.
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t completely tune out the voice.
I let out a shaky breath. Being angry at Jason might be temporarily satisfying, but it wouldn’t help anything in the long run. “I get why the Trackers would come to your rescue, but why am I here? Why would they bother with me?”
He shrugged. “I told them you were an undercover reporter who had seen a lot more of the camp than I had.”
It beat telling them who I really was. If the Trackers found out they had the reg daughter of a pack leader . . .
Bait or blackmaiclass="underline" those would be the best-case scenarios.
The thought hit me a nanosecond before the car swerved.
I was thrown against Jason so violently that I ended up half in his lap.
“What the hell are they doing?” The words had barely left Jason’s lips when the car put on a sudden burst of speed.
I pushed away and then froze. A sliver of white and chrome was visible through Jason’s window for a split second before it fell back.
My pulse jumped as I strained to catch a glimpse of the other car. There were white jeeps at Thornhill—a whole row of them next to the admission building. Had Sinclair changed her mind about letting us go?
Jason tried to lower the partition separating us from the Trackers. It wouldn’t go down. “Hey!” He hit it with his fist, splitting his knuckles and leaving a dark smear against the glass.
The car swerved again, this time throwing both of us to my side of the seat as gunfire erupted behind us.
“Down!” I yelled, grabbing Jason’s arm and rolling us both to the floor.
His breath came out in a whoosh as I landed on top of him, but his arms strained around me, holding me tightly as another round of gunfire split the air.
There was a bone-jarring impact from behind. The Town Car put on a second burst of speed, but it wasn’t enough. A scream ripped from my throat as the car was hit again. The sound of groaning metal filled the air, and with a third hit, they managed to run us off the road.
The car bounced over uneven ground and then pitched sharply to the left. We tilted onto two wheels. For a horrible moment, I thought we were going to flip, but then the other wheels crashed back to the ground and we came to a shuddering stop.
Jason’s heart pounded against my chest. My own matched it beat for beat.
The sudden stillness was almost surreal.
“Are you all right?” His voice was a rough whisper against my cheek.
I nodded and a wave of dizziness made everything spin as bile rushed up the back of my throat. I struggled to speak. “Think so. You?”
“So far.”
There was a shout from outside. The Town Car shook as one of the front doors was wrenched open, and there was a jagged scream that abruptly cut off.
Everything went horribly quiet.
Voice raw, I whispered, “If you’re carrying any sort of weapon, now would be a really good time to tell me.”
“Only my razor-sharp wit.”
We were so dead.
Fear flooded Jason’s eyes and I knew he was thinking the same thing.
We were going to die.
We were going to die far from home and everyone who cared about us.
We were going to die, and no one would ever know what had happened.
I choked back a sob.
Outside, there were more shouts followed by the sound of an engine—the jeep, probably. A single gunshot rang out.
“Mac . . . I . . . if . . . Oh, what the hell.” The space we were wedged in was barely wide enough for Jason’s shoulders, but he somehow flipped us so that my back was pressed to the floor and his body was covering mine.
My hands were trapped against his chest. “Jason, what—”
Before I could finish the question, his lips crashed against mine.
I went completely still as the kiss stole the breath from my lungs. I should have pushed Jason away—I knew that—but I was scared. So scared. If these were our last minutes on earth—if this was the end—wasn’t it better for a kiss to be the last thing I remembered?
My lips parted under Jason’s and the kiss deepened. It wasn’t fierce and desperate; it was sad and lost. I managed to get my hands free and slipped my arms around him, holding him close as I tried to block out the sound of more gunshots.
Jason pulled back a fraction of an inch. “I love you.” The words were a shaky whisper against my lips.
I held him tighter because it was the only thing I could do.
The door behind Jason was yanked open and light flooded the back of the car.
“No!” My scream echoed in my ears as he was pulled outside.
I started to scramble after him, but the other door was wrenched open and strong arms locked around my waist. They pulled me back, into the bright sunlight.
As soon as my legs cleared the car, I fought. I kicked and yelled and scratched with my nails. I caught flashes of movement—other people in a barren field along the side of the road—but they were only impressions.
They could kill me, but I was going to inflict as much damage as humanly possible first.