by Becca Van
“Fuck!” Bas roared when he heard guns going off and from the amount of fire going on there were more than a few men shooting up the town.
He shoved to his feet and jumped over the boardroom table, scattering papers and knocking glasses of water to the floor, but he didn’t slow down. He barely missed kicking Clint in the head as he leveraged with a hand on the table and vaulted between him and Cam. Chairs scraped as the rest of the men reacted, but Bas ignored them.
He briefly gazed into the office as he passed, but there was no sign of his mate. The other women looked scared with wide, horror-filled eyes, but he didn’t have time to placate or reassure them.
His sabear growled when he got to the living room, but still there was no sign on Krista. His boots skidded on the rug, but a quick two-step and his animal’s unusual agility helped him to remain on his feet. The kitchen and dining room were also empty, so he spun on his heels and sniffed the air. Krista’s fragrance was still strong, and he wondered if she’d gone to use the bathroom, but he knew deep down in his heart, she was no longer in the house.
Her scent hadn’t been pungent enough in the hallway which meant it had been hours since she’d been in that part of the house.
Changing direction he sprinted toward the front door, ignoring his brothers and the other men as they entered the living room. The only reason he didn’t tear the front door off its hinges was because he’d spied Bly cowering on the porch steps.
“Bly, are you all right, honey?” Bas asked as he descended the stairs and sat next to her. Tears were rolling down her face, she had her little arms around her stomach, and she was rocking back and forth. The stench of her fear assaulted his nose. When she didn’t react, Bas slowly reached out and rubbed her back hoping to calm her down. Beck, Byron, and the other men were standing behind him but remained on the verandah so they didn’t scare the kid more than she already was.
Though Bas was frustrated with the delay and his sabear was pacing to and froe and trying to get free, he called on every inch of his self-control to remain calm.
Krista’s perfume drifted to him on the breeze and his inner beast grumbled with anger when he smelled her fear, but that wasn’t the only sent that assailed his olfactory senses. The aroma of man, sweat, and evil permeated the air.
“Get one of the women to come and take care of Bly,” Bas ordered softly. “Our mate’s been taken.”
* * * *
Krista readied herself to make a move when the asshole stopped a couple of feet in front of her. She had no idea if she was strong or fast enough, but she was going to try and leap to her feet and fight the fucker to give Bly a chance to run.
Her muscles tensed in preparation, and as he bent to lower Bly to the ground, she took a deep breath and met Bly’s gaze. Without saying a word, she glanced toward the large rock in front of the nearest house and met the girl’s eyes again. When Bly blinked at her, Krista hoped it was a sign of understanding and not one of question.
Krista quelled her urge to jump up as soon as the girl’s feet hit the ground, but she waited, hoping against all hope that the man would release Bly’s arm. When Bly gasped and grimaced with pain, she knew the fucker wasn’t going to play by the rules.
Praying she wasn’t about to get them both killed, she surged to her feet and dove at the bastard. She hit him so hard he instinctively let Bly go as they toppled to the ground. Krista drew back her fist, but she wasn’t fast enough. He somehow managed to keep hold of his gun, and before she could smash him in the face, he had the barrel pressed to the underside of her chin.
“Get up, slut,” he growled.
She was so scared he was going to pull the trigger and end her life, her heart was pounding so hard, it hurt and she couldn’t catch her breath. Frissons of fear caused her to shiver, but she slowly braced her hands on the ground and pushed her body up and away from his. He moved with her, keeping the muzzle of the gun hard against her soft skin.
He got to his feet, gripped her arm with bruising cruelty, and yanked her up.
Krista wanted to see where Bly was, to make sure she was safe and sound, but she couldn’t take her eyes from his evil stare. She was terrified that if she so much as looked away, he’d put a bullet in her head.
Although why she was worried about it since it was inevitable, she had no idea.
Maybe it would be best if he just got it over and done with.
“Start walking, cunt.” He dug his fingers into the flesh of her arm deeper and jerked her so hard, her head snapped back. Pain radiated up from her neck into her head, and she wondered if he’d given her whiplash.
A bubble of hysterical laughter surged up from her chest, but she swallowed it before it escaped her mouth.
The last thing she wanted to do was anger the fucker further and hasten her demise. She looked around as he led her between houses and toward the northern end of town. The rapid staccato of shots being fired caused her heart to ache with guilt and fear. From what she could tell, the gunfire was coming from every direction. She prayed that the locals had taken cover and were safe from the flying bullets. If one person got wounded or died, she’d never forgive herself.
A strange calm settled over her, allowing Krista to think clearly for the first time since she’d seen Bly in danger. She had three wonderful, amazing mates whom she loved with her whole heart.
Krista wasn’t giving up until she was dead.
* * * *
“He took her,” Bly whispered.
Byron glanced at Beck when his brother shifted impatiently from foot to foot. He was also irritated by the delay, but he and the others didn’t want to scare the child by racing passed her.
“She saved me when she knocked him to the ground. I hid behind the rock over there.” Bly pointed. “He held a gun to her chin.”
Bas pulled Bly onto his lap when she started crying. “I want my momma.”
“Oh, honey. Don’t cry,” Kiana said as she rushed down the steps then lifted Bly into her arms.
Byron had never been so glad to see the other men’s mate in his life.
“Let’s get you inside where we’ll be safe.” Kiana stopped on the threshold to the house and held Byron’s gaze. “Find her and bring her back where she belongs.”
He swallowed around the fearful constriction in his throat and nodded.
As soon as Kiana closed the door behind her and Bly, Byron and his brothers stripped off their clothes in record time. With a roar of rage, he jumped over the steps, landing on the ground with a loud thud, and took off running, sniffing the air and following the trail of his mate’s terror-filled fragrance.
“They’re heading to the northern shoreline,” Byron informed everyone through the communal pack link.
“We’ve got your backs,” Cam replied. “Don’t let your fear rule. Use your fucking heads and your SEAL training. Clint, stay here and protect the women. Granger, make sure you have all your medical supplies.”
“Already on it,” Granger replied.
“Gideon and Garth, get some weapons from the hidden cache in the office.”
“Aye, aye,” Gideon said.
“Darian, Deacon, and Deklon, shift into your sabears and see if you can take out the other gunmen. Ford, Flynn, and Floyd can help you. I want those assholes restrained or dead before they kill someone.”
“We’ll get them,” Ford growled.
“Byron, Bas, Beck, slow the fuck down. I don’t want you letting them know we’re coming,” Cam explained.
Normally, Byron wouldn’t hesitate to take a directive from the team and pack leader, but right now, all he could think about was getting to and saving Krista.
If she was hurt or God forbid she ended up dying, he and his brothers would go on a killing rampage.
No one in Gambell would be safe from their insane grief filled wrath.
* * * *
Beck was having trouble keeping a cool head. He and his sabear were fighting back the fear and rage battling in their heart and soul. Man an
d beast were so terrified and angry that he was seeing everything through a red haze, but he knew if he didn’t get ahold of his animal and ire, that things were likely to go FUBAR.
Their aim was to take out the enemy and rescue their woman, and he wasn’t giving up until he had Krista safe and sound back in his arms.
He was so intent on trying to govern his fury while keeping his mind on the goal, he almost ran into the back of Byron’s furry ass when he stopped dead.
“We have two tangos to the left and right shooting up the houses,” Byron said. “I’ll distract them while you two contain them.”
“Roger.” Bas nodded. “Just make sure you don’t take a bullet to anything vital.”
Byron snorted. “I don’t think that’s a problem with all the animal fat.”
Beck would have chuffed out a laugh if he hadn’t been so worried about Krista. He padded to Byron’s side and waited for his chance to take out the enemy. He would kill the fuckers with a swipe of his lethally sharp claws without any scruples to protect himself, his brothers, and their woman. If he had the chance to tie them up he would, but since the assholes had automatic weapons, he didn’t think that was going to be an option.
“On the count of three,” Byron said. “Three, two, one.”
With a loud, angry growl, Byron charged out from between the two houses and ran at the man on the right. Beck and Bas moved seconds later, keeping their steps light and their instinctive animalistic growls in check. The man Byron ran toward aimed his weapon at his brother and opened fire. Byron jerked as he was hit with at least ten bullets before he reached the fucker.
Beck jumped the last ten feet between him and his gun-wielding nemesis. With the flick of a paw, he severed the bastard’s jugular. The prick dropped the gun and hit the ground seconds later. He gasped once, and then he lay still, his sightless eyes staring at the sky.
Beck turned to make sure his brothers were okay. Byron was bleeding like a stuck pig but was still on all four paws. The other guy’s head was no longer attached to his body.
Beck turned and raced toward the shoreline, hell-bent on getting to Krista before the yacht powered up and took off out to sea. He spotted the small rubber dinghy speeding toward the boat, but he couldn’t see Krista.
He just hoped that she hadn’t been tossed overboard.
If she had, it might already be too late.
Chapter Seventeen
Krista’s heart filled with a rage so strong her whole body quaked.
It took her a few moments to realize what she was feeling weren’t her emotions, but those of her mates.
Their fury gave her hope that they knew she was missing and were coming to the rescue.
With an anger and a strength she never knew she was capable of, she wrenched her arm out of the fucker’s grip and turned to run. The bullet he fired at her hit low on her calf and she fell to the ground.
White-hot agony seared up and down her leg, causing her to writhe on the icy ground. It hurt so much she couldn’t even moan. Just as she was beginning to get her breath back, the bastard grabbed her hair and started dragging her toward the water. She raked her nails along his skin, but he didn’t let go, so she clung to his wrists trying to alleviate the pain and pressure to her burning scalp.
He just laughed and kept walking.
Krista screamed as loudly as she could but quickly wished she hadn’t. He dropped her hair, turned toward her, then slammed the butt of his gun hard into her forehead.
Her stomach roiled as piercing shards of pain stabbed into her skull and brain. Darkness swirled over her vision, and though she tried to fight the ensuing blackness, she floated away into the obscuring shadows on a sigh.
* * * *
“All the gunmen are dead,” Cam said. “Have you spotted Krista?”
“No,” Beck snarled.
Bas was cutting through the water faster than he’d ever swum in his life. The engine-powered dingy was almost to the yacht, and while he and his brothers would eventually catch up with the boat, that would mean Krista would be in their rival’s clutches longer.
He was hoping to get onboard before they got further out to sea.
He glanced to his right where Byron was swimming and wasn’t surprised to see him keeping pace. Bas was worried about him since he had been shot so many times, but Byron didn’t seem fazed.
Beck was beside him to his left. When Byron gained the lead, Bas almost told his brother to back off. He didn’t want him getting shot again. While they had rapid healing abilities, loss of blood could hamper that. He was concerned that if Byron took another bullet, his brother would get himself killed by bleeding out.
He pushed himself faster and harder when he saw the dingy slowing to pull up to the aft of the yacht. Two men wearing white sailor garb tethered the lines to the bigger craft. His heart stuttered when the lone fucker in the dingy slung his mate over his shoulder, her arms and legs flopping, and then stepped onto the low platform of the yacht.
Bas growled when he realized that Krista was unconscious. He tried to convince himself that she wasn’t dead. Surely if she had been, the fucker wouldn’t be attempting to kidnap her.
“All the other tangos are dead. They tried to shoot us, but they didn’t stand a chance. Me, Cal, Clint and Darian, Deklon, and Deacon ripped them to shreds. It was a bloodbath, but it was necessary to keep everyone safe. We’re about a hundred yards out,” Cam said. “Are you going to make it to the boat before they take off?”
“Hell yes, we are,” Bas snarled.
“If you can get her off that yacht, we’ll blow it out of the water.”
“You can’t,” Byron said. “The crew are just as much victims as Krista is. There’s a guy on board aiming a gun at them.”
“Fuck!” Cal, Cam’s brother, snapped.
“Can you restrain them?” Gideon asked.
“Fuck that,” Beck said in a growly voice. “Those fuckers hurt and kidnapped our mate. They’re dead men.”
Bas silently agreed, but he was too busy trying to get to the boat to reply.
If he and his brothers didn’t get there in time, he had a dreadful feeling they’d never see their mate again.
* * * *
Krista’s head thumped so badly, she was sick with it. A couple of times she’d almost gagged on the bile that had rushed up her throat, but she’d managed to swallow the terrible tasting acid back down.
She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious, but she didn’t think it had been for more than a few minutes. She’d been semi-aware since she’d been dumped into the bottom of a boat, and it had taken all her concentration not to throw up as the dingy had been tossed about on the choppy sea.
The engine had been loud enough to hurt her ears and make her head hurt worse. Or maybe that was because she was being rolled from side to side because of the swell under the boat.
When she heard the engine power down, she was tempted to lift her head, force her lids open, and take a peek, but she kept her muscles lax and her breathing deep and even. She’d need the element of surprise on her side if she wanted a chance to escape.
Emotions tumbled about in her gut like a rubber duck in a hurricane. She could feel her men through their mating bond, and while she was happy that they were still alive, she had no idea about the rest of the men or women. And then there were the locals. If any of the innocent people had been gunned down, that was on her head.
She’d brought trouble to their midst, and it was her fault if anyone had been hurt or killed. Tears threatened when she thought about Bly, but she had no way of knowing if the little girl had escaped.
Krista bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying out in agony when she was slung over a hard shoulder. The muscles in her neck protested after it wrenched to the side, but that was the least of her worries. The stench of sweat and stale cigarette smoke caused her belly to churn.
If she puked, the fucker carrying her onto the boat would know she as awake and her gig would be up.<
br />
She had no idea how many of the enemy were on board, but she had a feeling if the bastard intent on revenge got her down into the cabin, she wouldn’t want to live.
She’d seen his erection when she’d managed to break free of the hold he had on her arm. If he so much as touched her sexually, she was scared she’d never want another man’s hands on her.
She mentally shook her head. There was no way she’d never want her mates kissing, touching, or making love to her. The heat they created inside her from a spark sizzled to the power of the sun within seconds.
Krista needed to do something, and she needed to do it fast.
The bastard was on the boat, and while she knew he was speaking to someone, she couldn’t hear what he was saying.
She pushed her heavy lids up to narrow slits and tried to ignore the pain hammering on the inside of her skull as she blinked her vision clear. It didn’t help much since the sun on the water shone like sparkling diamonds.
There was a step at the back just below the deck. If she could get away from the asshole who held her, her best bet would be the water.
She was thankful that she no longer needed to rug up with lots of layers and her fur-lined coat, but she still wore her wool-lined boots, and once they were soaked, they’d be heavy. She was worried that she wouldn’t be able to get back to the surface to breathe.
Considering her choices, Krista would rather take her chances with the freezing cold water and hypothermia.
When he hitched her higher onto his shoulder, forcing the air in her lungs out, and then started walking faster, she knew her time was up.
It was time to make a break for it.
* * * *
Byron could feel himself weakening, but he wasn’t about to give up. Nothing mattered but saving Krista. A couple of times he’d thought he’d felt her through their mating bond, but he couldn’t be sure since even he was having a hard time differentiating between his own fear and rage as well as his brothers’.