Born to Love (The Vampire Reborn Series) (Entangled Ignite)

by Caridad Piñeiro

  “Yep. Safest bet is for the team to move in from the far access point through the ventilator area.”

  “Did you copy that, Jesus?” she asked. Their ADIC was with Maggie and Rafe in that portion of the park. Brendon and Ryder were positioned close to City Hall, at the entrance to the closed-off station.

  “Negative,” Brendon immediately countered. “There’s a slight breeze blowing this way through the tunnel. If they enter upwind, the weres will smell them and make a run for it.”

  And if they did make a run for it, Brendon and Ryder would be overpowered.

  Diana grimaced. “Copy that, Brendon. Can you and Ryder flush them out and force them toward the rest of the team?”

  “I think a little fang and fur might accomplish that, darlin’,” Ryder said drolly.

  His humor did little to calm her fears, but now was not the time to let her emotions control her. She had to stay level-headed and get them all home safe and sound.

  “Roger that, Ryder. Let us know when you’re a go. Keep your heads low and remember to be careful of that deadly third rail.”

  And please. Don’t do anything crazy.

  “We’re heading in now,” Brendon said.

  In her head came Ryder’s silent reply, Don’t worry about me. I love you too much not to come back to you.

  On the monitors, the infrared showed two barely noticeable shapes creeping in just beyond the half-blood group. Ryder and Brendon. Brendon’s signature was a strong, deep red, while Ryder’s reflected the cooler blue of his lower body temperature. So far, the half-bloods hadn’t noticed them.

  “Almost there,” David said as Ryder and Brendon inched closer, barely ten yards away.

  “Get ready to move in,” she told the team over the com.

  David said, “Stay safe everyone,” then switched off, and murmured quietly, “Love you, babe.”

  Diana laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “They’ll be fine.”

  She had barely uttered the words when a burst of activity registered on the monitors. The half-bloods had finally sensed the team. They broke from their huddle, forming a straight line to intercept Ryder and Brendon.

  She counted a half-dozen standing shoulder to shoulder, facing the entrance to the loop. Their infrared signatures shivered and shook, growing hotter, brighter, no doubt as they shifted forms.

  “We’ve got six targets. Two species, judging by their sizes,” Diana reported.

  “We’re moving in,” Brendon said. And his long, eerie howl filled their ears.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  It had been years since Ryder was inside the City Hall Station. Back then he’d been a passenger on the subway, checking out the amazing new stop with its Revival Romanesque architecture of arched ceilings, brass chandeliers, and skylights. Even in the present stale air and dim light, the beauty of the station still shone.

  Not the time to appreciate it.

  As the huddle of shifters in the middle of the tunnel broke apart and reformed, Ryder sensed a sudden surge of heat in their bodies and heard their agitated snarls and squeals. The half-bloods were shifting in response to the intrusion.

  Beside him, the werewolf leader transformed in the blink of an eye, only partially assuming his were-form in deference to the bulletproof vest he wore. If possible, the alpha was even more frightening in that state—his immense size, lethally wicked teeth and claws combined with his half-human body and powerful upright stance.

  Again, Brendon’s chilling howl filled the tunnel. Instantly, the half-bloods’ defensive formation tightened. It was an odd collection of sizes and shapes, with red and gold eyes gleaming bright and menacing in the meager light of the passageway.

  Ryder let loose his demon, which burst forth to stand beside his wolf ally, his vampire senses almost gagging on the ripe fur scent of the half-bloods that permeated the tunnel.

  From deep in Ryder’s throat a warning growl exploded, joined by another from the wolf beside him. Their growls were echoed in a cacophony of warlike sounds from down the tunnel, but a second later, all were drowned out by the deafening rumble of a subway train passing right behind them on the loop. As the train sped below to the uptown platform, the vibrations traveled up Ryder’s legs and settled in his gut, tightening it to a hard knot.

  Four shifters, two wolves and two rats, came racing toward them. Ryder stood his ground beside the werewolf, bracing himself for the attack, careful of his boots on the uneven tunnel floors. “Mind the rails,” he reminded Brendon.

  As the four weres charged toward them, the other two rats peeled away from their companions and raced in the opposite direction. As they scampered down the tunnel, they met the rest of the team.

  “FBI. Freeze!” Jesus shouted, but the two small weres ignored his order and kept running, attempting to scurry past the team.

  Rafe shifted in mid-stride, and Maggie emitted an inhuman wail that made the two half-bloods stop dead in their tracks.

  Satisfied, Ryder swiftly turned back to the four shifters nearly upon him and Brendon. The long strides of the werewolves ate up the ground, their smaller companions lagging behind. Their excited high-pitched squeals bounced off the walls, painful to his acute vampire hearing.

  He gritted his teeth and held his ground, bracing himself for the right moment. Over the com, Diana instructed, “Target spotted. Jefferson is the lead attacker. Repeat, Jefferson is the first wolf.”

  “He’s mine,” Brendon growled, and shot forward, his powerful legs propelling him through the air. He and Jefferson collided in a bone-jarring thud, their bodies falling to the ground.

  Tangled together, they rolled along the tracks, dangerously close to the deadly third rail. They crashed into the legs of the second werewolf, who scrambled for footing, claws flailing for purchase. But he went down.

  The wolf hit the tracks hard, the momentum carrying him right onto the third rail. His body convulsed violently from the 625-volt blast of current, jerking once, twice, before lying there, still, silent, and smoking.

  Seeing the gruesome sight, the two were-rats coming at him skittered to a halt, blinking between their fried wolf comrade and their escape route.

  Not going to happen.

  Ryder sprang into action.

  …

  “Damn it, Ryder. Stay back!” Diana commanded, fear slamming into her gut as hard as any blow.

  “Sorry, darlin’,” he murmured a second before he leaped onto the small duo, taking them down. Brendon and Jefferson continued clawing and tearing at each other, and the smell of blood filled Ryder’s senses as bits of fur flew into the air and the sharp white of fangs gleamed in the light…along with the alluring crimson and copper taste of blood.

  …

  Maggie rushed forward to help Rafe and Jesus as they wrestled with the two were-rats they had tackled, attempting to pin them down and get them secured with flexicuffs.

  “Watch out, Mags!” David called over the com as one of the were-rats suddenly threw off Jesus. The boss flew a few feet through the air, surprisingly no match for the smaller, but far more powerful shifter.

  The warning distracted Rafe, who had finally subdued the second were-rat. The split second of inattention was all his captive needed. Maggie watched in dismay as the animal surged up like a wrestler, reversed their positions, and went for Rafe’s throat.

  Going on fear, instinct, and pure adrenaline, she whipped up her weapon and fired. The sound of the gunshot reverberated along the tunnel walls. The were-rat about to bite Rafe howled in pain. Her silver bullet had hit him high in the shoulder, taking out a chunk of flesh. He grabbed the wound and fell to the ground, squealing and rolling in agony.

  “Got him,” Maggie said with a grunt of satisfaction.

  Rafe murmured his thanks and leaped up to help Ryder and Brendon. Maggie waited, her gun trained on the wounded were-rat and keeping an eye on Jesus, who’d managed to grapple the other were-rat to the ground. After cuffing him, Jesus secured the wounded were-rat.

&nb
sp; “Go,” Jesus said, and she took off to help the others.

  “Good job, Mags,” David said over the com.

  “Not done yet,” she said, racing through the tunnel to reach Ryder and Brendon.

  “Damn it, Maggie. Hold your position,” David warned.

  “Ryder needs help.” Maggie followed the tracks to where Ryder was fighting off the two were-rats. They had swarmed over him, biting and scratching, drawing blood. His shirt was shredded, showing pale skin and tracks of scarlet from his wounds.

  Maggie dropped into a shooting position, sighting another shot. But Ryder and the were-rats were so tangled together, it was impossible to draw a bead on the shifters. She couldn’t risk hitting Ryder. Silver was deadly to him, as well. Frustrated, she moved closer.

  Rafe appeared, and managed to rip one of the were-rats off Ryder. The vampire grabbed the other shifter and threw him aside, the little beast leaving deep claw marks along his arms and chest. Together, they kept the shifters at bay, lashing out at them as they circled, looking for an opening to attack again. Maggie followed the moving targets with her gunsight, still hoping to get a shot.

  A few feet behind them Brendon and Jefferson had broken apart, and she could hear them snapping at each other, angling for a weakness to exploit. She could smell the blood and sensed their battered exhaustion from the close-quarters fight.

  Time to put a stop to this crap.

  She inched to within a few feet of Ryder and Rafe, and fired a warning shot close to the feet of the two smaller shifters.

  The loud blast brought the fight to an abrupt stop.

  “Next one is between your eyes, rat-face,” she said calmly.

  The two were-rats looked at one another, then at Maggie, then at the body of the fallen werewolf still sizzling on the third rail. They glanced farther down the tunnel, to where Jesus stood guarding their two captives.

  “Don’t even think it. Hands in the air,” Maggie commanded.

  “We’re dead men if you take us,” one rat said, his high-pitched voice a grating whine.

  “Hands up. Now,” she ordered again, with an upward jerk of her gun barrel.

  “They’re going to bolt, Maggie,” Diana warned over the com.

  An ear-splitting welter of howls came from Brendon and Jefferson. Their wolf bodies spun toward Ryder and Rafe and the were-rats, landing in a tornado of claws and fur between Maggie and the shifters. The two rats grabbed their chance to turn tail and run, leaping over the battling bodies of the werewolves. They smashed into her, and all three went tumbling backward.

  Maggie saw Ryder and Rafe jump forward to give chase, but their path was blocked in every direction—by her as she fell, by the dead werewolf, and the rolling bodies of Brendon and Jefferson. Their arms wheeled, and they started to go down, too.

  …

  Diana’s stomach knotted with fear as she took in the falling bodies on the monitors. Oh, shit. David cursed as the realization hit him, too.

  She called out over the com, “No! The third rail!”

  She and David watched in horror. As if in slow motion, Ryder grabbed Maggie and pulled her back from the deadly rail. They landed in a sprawl on the other tracks.

  Seeing an opening, the two were-rats doubled back, barreled over Rafe, and took off toward the City Hall station.

  Nearby, Brendon and Jefferson broke apart and jerked to a halt, sides heaving.

  “Give it up, Brad,” Brendon said, still in half-human form, unlike the fully transformed Jefferson.

  Jefferson gave a toothy grin and a low, throaty laugh. “No.”

  Diana’s gaze skimmed across the two monitors. Jesus had subdued his two prisoners. Maggie, Rafe, and Ryder were coming to their feet, their suspects long gone down the tunnel leading to the City Hall Loop.

  Jefferson was as good as captured. Both ends of the tunnels were contained by their team.

  But as Jefferson’s gaze darted upward, Diana realized his intent.

  “Don’t let Jefferson get to that skylight,” she called over the com, aware that if he did, she and David were the last line of defense to stop him.

  She swiped up her gun and charged from her seat.

  David was already on the move toward the back of the van.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Diana’s warning echoed in Ryder’s ear, filled with fear and concern, but not for herself.

  Never for herself.

  If Jefferson made it above ground, she’d be there to stop him.

  Hell, no.

  “Ryder,” Maggie said beside him. “David won’t let Diana hit the street alone.”

  Jefferson swung his head toward them, muzzle snarling, his eyes glowing an eerie red-yellow in the dark of the tunnel. At the sound of Jesus approaching, gun drawn, Jefferson looked his way. Calculating.

  Ryder started toward him, but Jefferson turned and jumped straight at Brendon, sending the two wolves careening dangerously close to the third rail and death. At the last second, Rafe threw himself at Brendon’s back, keeping him from stumbling into the deadly electrical line. They landed in a sprawl on the tracks on top of one another.

  Which Ryder realized provided Jefferson with just what he needed. The rogue wolf leaped, using the two other bodies as a springboard, and launched himself up against the skylight.

  Glass shattered and rained down on Ryder as Jefferson clawed at the glass and metal, breaking through it then snarling and ripping at the grate above. In a flash, he dislodged the final barrier and managed to get hold of the edge of the cement walkway above. His claws scraped against the walls around the skylight, seeking purchase.

  Maggie and Jesus opened fire.

  Uncaring of the bullets, Ryder took a mighty leap, aiming for the wolf’s hind end, intending to drag him back down into the tunnel. But as he grabbed hold of one leg, the wolf kicked back savagely with the other, his claws raking deep into the flesh of Ryder’s arm.

  Pain lanced through him, but he held on, his grip slippery from the blood oozing from the werewolf. At least one of the bullets had hit home.

  It wasn’t enough. With another punishing kick at his arm, the wolf broke free.

  Ryder plummeted to the ground. The landing knocked the wind out of him, but it was Diana’s loud cry in his ear that paralyzed him with fear.

  “FBI. Freeze or we’ll shoot!”

  …

  Diana aimed at the werewolf crawling out from the skylight above the abandoned subway tunnel. In the moonlight, black patches of blood were visible along his hindquarters. The animal favored one leg as it hunched by the grating, sides heaving from exertion.

  Its red-yellow gaze danced between her and David. About twenty feet separated them. They had formed a triangle with the van in front of them, limiting the paths the shifter could take to freedom. The animal understood. It would have to take one of them out to escape.

  “We will shoot to kill,” she warned.

  With a wolfy grin and what might pass for laughter, Jefferson said, “I know.”

  The boldness of that challenge threw her for a moment. As did the wolf’s move toward David.

  She would not let her partner be hurt again.

  Diana ran toward David, determined to protect him, but instantly, Jefferson turned and launched himself at her. She aimed and fired, catching him mid-chest, but he kept on charging.

  She braced herself and fired again, striking him mid-torso once more. That bullet slowed him for mere seconds as his legs buckled. But he quickly recovered and came at her again.

  Fear gripped her, but she was not about to let him get away to kill more humans.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw David move in, blocking Jefferson’s escape. So did Jefferson. His muscles bunched and he leapt at her again.

  Instantly, David threw himself out of his chair, landing between her and the dangerous jaws of the werewolf. His pained cry split the air, and the two went down in a snarl of bodies. The wolf’s low growls mingled with the sickening sound of something crunch
ing. David moaned. Then came the muffled report of his weapon, followed by a wolfish whimper of pain.

  Diana was pinned beneath them, unable to move. She couldn’t get to her gun. The heavy bodies struggling on top of her forced the air from her lungs and pushed painfully against the baby.

  Dark spots danced before her eyes.

  She shoved off the ground with her heels. She needed to get free of them! Her baby… She forced her hands to move, millimeter by millimeter, to reach her belly. She twisted her body, fighting desperately to protect her baby from the jostling of the two locked in a death match above her.

  She had to get out from under them.

  Reaching deep inside for her last vestiges of strength, she shoved harder with her heels, slowly, agonizingly, pushing herself from beneath the struggling men.

  She somehow managed to squirm out with part of her body, and finally breathed free. Thank God.

  Suddenly, she spotted David’s weapon. It lay on the ground beside him, useless. She grabbed it and twisted around.

  David had the wolf’s head trapped in his hands, struggling to keep those vicious, snapping teeth away from him.

  In her ear she heard Jesus run up and curse. “I can’t get a clear shot.”

  Followed by Maggie’s panicked, “I can’t either.”

  But Diana could.

  The wolf’s fur was soft against the barrel of David’s gun in her hand.

  She pulled the trigger.

  The warmth of blood splattered against her, but the wolf continued to fight, lunging wildly past David’s shoulder at her, and nearly reaching her.

  A second later, Ryder was there, grabbing at the wolf’s head. He and David twisted it backward, exposing its throat and midsection for just the few seconds she needed.

  She fired again.

  Above her, the wolf’s eyes widened in surprise. Then a long, harsh exhale whooshed from his lungs. His last.

  He collapsed, and Ryder shoved the body to one side.