Grave Peril

by Lynn Hagen

  Cannon’s means of death and where to bury him.

  “How about I pay you to kill yourself?” He grinned before Jimmy stood and slugged him again. This time in the face. Cannon howled in pain when Jimmy reared his foot back and slammed it into his leg.

  He heard a bone crack.

  “Not so fucking tough now, are you?”

  He was fighting not to shift. His jaw was clenched tight. He balled his hands into fists behind himself as wave after wave of pain pulsed like hot metal down his side.

  When Cannon looked up, Jimmy’s pals had their guns aimed at him, as if they saw the expression on Cannon’s face and deemed him a serious threat. His panther was going apeshit, trying to emerge, but Cannon fought him back, afraid one of the guys would put a bullet in his head.

  Anywhere else in his body and Cannon would survive. Not the head. That was game over, and he had a mate to get back to. A life to build with Richie. A summer festival to attend with the man he’d fallen in love with.

  But Cannon hadn’t told Richie that. Not yet. His mate didn’t know that he owned Cannon’s heart, mind, and soul. He hadn’t spoken a word about staying, about setting down roots in Maple Grove, maybe working for the local sheriff’s station or maybe taking it easy for a while, enjoying being himself instead of a made-up character who was undercover, drowning in a sea of bad guys day after day.

  Jimmy going after Cannon had been a wakeup call. He finally had something to look forward to, something to live for.

  “You have no idea what you’re up against,” Cannon said between clenched teeth. “The pain and death I could unleash on you.”

  One of the men by the door gave a nervous snicker.

  “I don’t think you’re in a position to make any threats, Cannon.” Jimmy walked over to the counter and grabbed a knife from the butcher block. He touched the tip of the blade against his finger and twirled it. A dot of blood surfaced, telling Cannon that the knife was sharp.

  Jimmy stuck his finger into his mouth and sucked the blood and then walked back to Cannon. “In fact, by the time I’m done, you won’t be in a position to breathe very well.”

  “Dude, just get this over with,” the blond, muscular guy said. “I don’t like sticking around. Just kill him like you planned, and let’s get going.”

  “No!” Jimmy glared at the guy. “He’s gonna pay for ratting me out and having me arrested. I’ll never be back on the force, and if I’m caught, I’ll spend my life in prison. A cop in prison? What do you think will happen to me?”

  “We already busted you out,” the dark-haired man said. “We did our part. We’re getting out of here.”

  Before Cannon could shout a warning—which was more an instinct than really caring about what happened to any of them—Jimmy threw the knife and it stuck in the middle of the guy’s back.

  “You’re not going any fucking where,” Jimmy snarled. He stormed across the room and grabbed the dark-haired guy’s gun and shot him in the back of the head. Then he looked at the blond. “You got any ideas of leaving?”

  “Never crossed my mind.” But the blond looked warily at Jimmy. “Do whatever you want for as long as you want.”

  Jimmy pulled the knife from the man’s back and walked back to Cannon. “See what you made me do? Kevin was a good guy, and you made me kill him.”

  Cannon saw movement in the window to his left. A flash of blue before it was gone. That had been a person. Cannon knew those fucking eyes.

  God, please tell me Richie isn’t here. Why would he be here? How did he find me? Are others with him? Cannon wasn’t sure of any of the answers, but when he got out of this, he was spanking Richie’s ass for putting himself in harm’s way.

  A hand appeared in the window, three fingers sticking up. What the hell did that mean? Three minutes to breach? Three people outside? Three bad guys inside the house? Three seconds until the house was set on fire as a means to get Cannon out?

  Not knowing was killing him, but not as much as the pain shooting through his leg.

  Cannon scowled at Jimmy. “I can’t wait to watch you get arrested again.”

  Though he didn’t plan on letting Jimmy live. As long as Jimmy still breathed, he would always be a threat to Cannon and Richie.

  “By your boss?” Jimmy chuckled. The blond did, as well. “I hate to tell you this, but Cooper is just as dirty as we are. The only reason he let you stay undercover was to keep an eye on Davila in case something went wrong, so he’d know when to run. But I must admit, that was pretty clever. Even I didn’t know you were a cop. I’m impressed with Cooper’s skills.”

  No, Cannon refused to believe that the man he’d trusted with his life was crooked. Granted, he didn’t know Cooper well enough. Cannon had become an undercover detective right out of the academy, so his dealings with the higher-up had been limited.

  “Speak of the devil,” Jimmy said when his phone rang. “I’m gonna put Cooper on speaker.” He answered the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Tell me you got the job done and aren’t fucking around.”

  Goddamn it to hell. Cannon ground his teeth at the sound of Cooper’s deep, smooth voice. That explained how Jimmy knew where to find Cannon. He’d fucking trusted Cooper, hadn’t had a single doubt that his boss was one of the good guys.

  Jimmy smiled at Cannon. “You mean have I killed Cannon yet?”

  “What else would I be talking about?” Cooper demanded.

  “Just checking.” Jimmy chuckled. “Not yet. He’s right here. Do you want to talk to him?”

  Cooper fell silent, and then his deep voice came across as a snarl. “Tell me you don’t have me on speaker.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of doing that to you, Cooper.” Jimmy winked, and Cannon wanted to pulverize the guy’s face.

  “Get it done and get out of that town.” Cooper hung up.

  “Just so you know, Cooper tried to argue against me killing you, but he’s too afraid you’ll connect the dots and expose him for the criminal that he is.” Jimmy shrugged. “A corrupt cop with a conscience. Go figure.”

  How could Cannon have connected the dots when, up until a minute ago, he’d thought Cooper was an upstanding guy? “He helped with your escape.”

  Jimmy grinned. “He orchestrated the whole thing. Then he got cold feet and warned you I escaped. The guy flip-flops more than a pancake on a griddle. Maybe I’ll pay him a visit next. Maybe I’ll be the one who exposes him.”

  Cannon looked toward the hallway, and the person he saw made his heart hammer from worry, even though he was so fucking glad to see him.

  Richie.

  He hadn’t been hallucinating. His mate was really there. Richie pressed his finger against his lips then jerked his head toward the hallway behind him.

  Cannon tried not to react, stopping himself from shaking his head, telling Richie that he didn’t understand what he was saying. Even as terrified as he was that his mate was there, Cannon’s chest tightened at the sight of him.

  They locked gazes as Richie eased backward. Cannon wanted to shout for his mate not to go, not to leave him, to curl himself around his body just so he could feel Richie’s warm touch.

  “What’re you staring at?” Jimmy grabbed the gun he’d laid on the counter and walked toward the hallway. Cannon’s insides froze.

  What if Richie had come alone? His mate was no match for Jimmy and the blond.

  Cannon had to stop them. He slung himself sideways and crashed to the floor, snarling at the pain that jolted his entire body from his broken leg.

  A wave of anger so consuming washed over him as Cannon threw caution to the wind, uncaring any longer about shifting. His panther took over and emerged.

  Blond gasped and backed away as Cannon stalked closer. His back leg was twisted, throbbing, but he shoved down the pain as he attacked, tearing Blond’s throat out, unleashing his wrath, desperate to end this so he could get to Richie.

  A hot, searing pain ripped through Cannon’s backside as the sound of a gun went off. Canno
n turned, ready to attack Jimmy when Richie, Braydon, and Cecil came rushing from the hallway, screaming something akin to a war cry as they took Jimmy down.

  Richie kicked the gun away as Cecil stomped on Jimmy’s hand. Braydon was on the floor, his arm curled tightly around Jimmy’s neck.

  Then Richie raised his leg and stomped Jimmy right between in the nuts. Richie turned and looked at Cannon, his mate’s eyes wide. This was the first time Richie had seen Cannon in his panther form.

  Cannon wanted to shout for Richie to watch out, but he couldn’t speak. Jimmy had managed to get up, knocked Cecil and Braydon off him, and grabbed Richie.

  “I’ll snap his fucking neck if you get any closer.”

  Cannon bowed his head and snarled.

  Jimmy glared at Braydon. “Hand me my gun or this guy dies.”

  Braydon looked as though he wanted to do anything other than hand over the weapon. He bent, retrieving it from the floor, and tossed it.

  Jimmy caught it and pressed it to Richie’s head.

  The back door burst open and Maverick and Sebastian moved inside the kitchen. Maverick’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at Jimmy.

  “None of you are going to stop me from escaping,” Jimmy said.

  “You have no idea who you’re fucking with,” Maverick snarled. “I’ve gone up against worse than you, and I can guarantee you’re not walking out of here alive.”

  Cannon gave a low yowl to back up the alpha’s words.

  Then Richie did something unexpected. He went limp in Jimmy’s arms. Taken by surprise, Jimmy let him go and Richie rolled away, scrambling toward his brother.

  Cannon attacked, dying to kill Jimmy, but the crooked cop had information they needed, so be backed away, but didn’t go far. If Jimmy got up, Cannon was ending him.

  Names or no names.

  Maverick narrowed his eyes at Cecil. “Why am I not surprised you’re here?”

  “We got him.” Cecil smiled with triumph. He handed the gun over to Maverick. “He won’t be shooting anyone else.”

  Cannon shifted and hit the floor. He hadn’t been in his panther form long enough to heal. “Names,” he croaked out. “Get the names of whoever is with him.”

  He didn’t want to shift back to his panther form. Not yet. Cannon wanted to make sure his mate was tucked safely at home before he shifted because he would fall into a sleep for his body to heal, and he didn’t want to do that in this kitchen.

  Maverick grabbed Jimmy from the floor. “I’m damn good at interrogations. We’ll find out everything we need to know, cat.”

  Cannon snarled when he saw Arturo come from the hallway. “You brought the mates here?”

  Arturo snorted. “Have you ever tried to stop a herd of them? Especially with that one in charge?” He jerked his chin toward Cecil. “It’s impossible.”

  Maverick looked around. “Let’s get out of this house and let the family get their rest. I’ll have Christian send one of his men to erase from their minds what they’ve been through.”

  Cannon didn’t argue when Sebastian lifted him from the floor and carried him outside. “You’re pretty banged up,” Maverick’s brother said. “You’re gonna need a lot of rest.”

  “Be careful with him,” Richie said from behind them. “That’s precious cargo you’re carrying.”

  “I can’t believe I saw him naked,” Braydon quipped. “Now I’ll never get that image out of my head.”

  Arturo growled.

  Braydon smiled at his mate. “What?”

  They were halfway down the driveway when something heavy infiltrated Cannon’s chest. He felt drained of all his happiness and wanted to cry at the fact that Cooper had betrayed him.

  That wasn’t right. Cannon was exhausted and needed rest. He was relieved Richie hadn’t been hurt, and he needed a vacation from his vacation, but he wasn’t sad about any of this.

  What the hell was going on?

  “Fuck.” Maverick stopped walking and looked at Arturo. “Get the mates to your truck.”

  “Put me down,” Cannon snarled. “What’s going on?”

  Sebastian set Cannon on his feet, and Cannon had to shift his weight to his good leg as he looked around.

  “Hellhounds,” Sebastian said under his breath. “There’s more than one.”

  Cannon had heard of hellhounds, but he’d never come across one. From what he’d been told, they had been formed in the bowels of Hell, never to escape. But they had, piercing the veil between their world and the human realm.

  They sucked all the happiness out of a person, and a hellhound bite was fatal to humans. A nonhuman had a fifty-fifty chance of survival.

  Cannon was already jacked up as it was. He didn’t want to add a bite to his broken leg and bullet wound.

  “Let me go.” Jimmy tried to swing his arm sideways, but Maverick backhanded him so hard that Jimmy’s head snapped back. The dirty cop settled down after that.

  “You need to join the mates,” Sebastian said. “You’re in no condition to fight.”

  “Like hell,” Cannon snarled, though he was getting lightheaded. “I don’t run from danger.”

  “Maybe not,” Maverick said, “but you’re no good to us passed out on the ground. Do as Sebastian said.”

  Cannon ignored them, readying himself for the battle ahead of them. He wasn’t tucking tail. He had a mate to protect, and he’d be damned if he let any of the hellhounds past him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Richie’s blood turned to ice water as he stared at the three strangers walking out of the woods. They had glowing red eyes and matching sinister smiles. He heard Maverick’s brother ordering Cannon to the truck, but Cannon wasn’t moving.

  He had a look on his face that said he wasn’t abandoning the others. It was an admirable and honorable sentiment, but Cannon wasn’t in any shape to fight.

  All his weight was on his right leg, and he was sweaty, his jaw clenched, his left leg shaking. Richie had to get him out of there before Cannon passed out and made himself vulnerable to attack.

  There wasn’t any doubt in Richie’s mind that Cannon could hold his own. He was built like a warrior with glistening muscles, a tall alpha male all the way, but he was wounded and needed to sit his ass down somewhere before he fell over.

  “I’ll be right back,” Richie said to Braydon before rushing over to Cannon. His mate was so focused that he hadn’t seen Richie’s approach.

  When he touched Cannon’s arm, his mate snarled at him, baring his sharp teeth and making the hairs on Richie’s arms stand on end. It was a menacing look that should’ve made him back off. Cannon’s expression was pure animal, wild, savage.

  Then he must have noticed it was Richie standing there. His features softened, but his brows dipped. “Get to the truck.”

  There was an edge to his voice that Richie understood all too well. Fear. Stark and raw and shadowed in his eyes. “Not until you come with me.”

  He grabbed Richie’s upper arms and slightly shook him. “You have no idea what those things are. They’re not human, Richie. They’re hellhounds, and their bite will kill you.”

  Cecil ran up next to Richie and tried to yank him away. “He’s right. We need to get out of the way and let them handle those things. We played hero tonight. Our job is done.”

  Richie shook off Cecil’s hold. “Not until Cannon comes with us. Maverick, Sebastian, and Arturo can fight them.” He turned back to Cannon. “You need to shift so you can heal.”

  The strangers drew closer. Real, terrifying fear pricked at Richie’s skin. If he didn’t get Cannon moving, Richie would be a part of the fight. And he wasn’t the physical type. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d gotten into a fight. Elementary school when Tommy Hinckley had pulled Richie’s red hair and said his head was on fire and proceeded to knock Richie’s lunchbox out of his hands? Was that the last time Richie had had a physical altercation?

  Duh, you just had one with Jimmy, you moron. God, Richie’s head was so scrambled right now that
he hadn’t thought of that.

  As terrified as Richie was, he still wasn’t leaving Cannon behind.

  “Get your ass moving, now.” Cannon shoved at him and nearly toppled over from his efforts. Even in the darkness Richie could see how pale Cannon had grown.

  Richie opened his mouth to argue. Nothing came out when he watched one of the strangers drop to all four and wink at him. Richie froze with fear as the guy, right before Richie’s eyes, turned in a huge Rottweiler. The dog pulled its muzzle back, showing off a row of glistening, white, sharp teeth.

  Richie’s breath caught in his lungs. He felt numb as he watched the dog draw closer.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Jimmy shouted as he wiggled to get free. Maverick tossed Jimmy at Cannon. “Get him in the truck. We don’t want him dying before we have our answers.”

  Cannon cursed. Richie knew how badly his mate wanted the names of the other corrupted cops. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Jimmy.

  Thankfully that got Cannon moving. The bad part was that Jimmy tried to take advantage of Cannon’s injuries. He elbowed Cannon in the chest, but Richie dove forward and stuck his foot out. Jimmy shouted as he went down.

  Braydon and Cecil helped Richie drag the bastard to the truck, where they used some rope from the bed to tie Jimmy up.

  “Okay, so maybe this is a bit fun,” Richie admitted as he made sure the rope was nice and tight. “But not the hellhound part.”

  “Stick with me, kid,” Cecil said, although he didn’t look any older than twenty-one or twenty-two. “Adventure is in my blood.”

  All three of them heaved Jimmy into the bed, and Richie grinned at the resounding thud. Then he remembered Cannon. Richie ran to his mate, but Cannon was back on his feet.

  Sort of.

  He’d shifted into his panther and was attacking the dog, with Arturo’s help. Except Arturo had shifted into his lion. It was like a damn zoo in the driveway of a house Richie wasn’t familiar with.

  The dog broke free and raced toward them. It looked like something straight out of a nightmare. Dark. Deadly. Terrifying. Those fucking glowing red eyes made Richie want to faint.