by Lynn Hagen
“What’s wrong?” Omar asked from the back.
“We’re dangling over the edge,” Freedman answered in a deceptively calm tone. “We need some serious weight in the back, like yesterday.”
Ian screamed when the truck jerked. “Are we falling?”
Mason’s heart was in his throat as he curled his large frame around Ian. If the truck plummeted to the ravine below, he was going to try his damnedest to stop Ian from being injured.
“It’s Sasha and the others climbing on the back of the truck,” Rick answered. Mason took a chance and moved slightly, looking over the back of the seat. The hatch opened, Sasha climbing onto the back bumper.
“One at a time. I need Mason out first since he is the heaviest,” Sasha commanded.
“I’m not leaving Ian,” he replied.
“We need your weight to counterbalance this big-as-fuck truck, Mason,” Sasha snapped at him.
“Fucking hurry,” Rick said from up front. “Not all the Breed Hunters are dead. I have one very pissed-off human aiming his gun up at me from below.”
“Go,” Ian said as he pushed at Mason. “I’ll be okay.”
Mason hesitated. “I promised to keep you safe.”
“You will when you put your fat ass on the back of the truck.”
“Fat ass?” Mason asked in astonishment.
“Now!” Sasha shouted.
Mason released Ian, staring into his light-blue eyes. “Don’t fucking get hurt.” He placed a chaste kiss on Ian’s lips before moving slowly, easing one leg over the back of the seat, and then the other. He felt like he was leaving behind something very precious. If anything happened to Ian because Mason left him, he would never forgive himself. Omar inched his way to the back of the truck, pressing his body together with Benito and Miguel’s, adding more weight.
“Stand up on the bumper,” Sasha said as he pointed to the spot next to him. “The others don’t have enough weight to hold this truck. It’s basically you and me.”
Mason nodded, gripping the hatch as he secured his booted feet onto the black bumper.
“Okay, Rick, you’re the next biggest. I need you to crawl—”
“Wait,” Mason growled. “You said Ian could be next.”
“I need the large men out of there. Freedman and Rick are sitting up front. Their weight is pressing the truck forward. We are turning this truck into a teeter-totter. We need more weight back here with us.”
“But—”
“We’ll get him out, Mason.”
Mason glanced toward the backseat. Ian was still down because Mason didn’t see him, but he could differentiate Ian’s smell from everyone else’s and the man was scared shitless. He wanted to crawl back inside and grab Ian, pulling him out to safety. But Sasha was right. The heaviest men had to get out first or the truck was going to take a nose dive.
Rick moved carefully, easing his way from the front seat. “Just so you know, I fucking hate leaving knowing there are other pack members in the truck. An alpha—”
“Should get his ass out here and help us rescue the others before it’s too late,” Sasha finished for him. “Don’t you think I feel like shit because I’m back here and there are still weaker members in the truck? We do what we have to in order to keep them safe. Sometimes we don’t like it, but it has to be done.”
Rick tightened his jaw and nodded, working his way over the backseat. Mason saw him pause for a second, staring at Dorian. The look was filled with so much love, so much emotion that Mason felt his own chest tighten. They had to get everyone out. If something happened to Ian and Dorian, Mason and Rick would never be the same again.
Of course, they had to get Freedman out of there as well. The man had risked his life to warn Rick multiple times about the Death Squad. He had lost his best friend to the weretigers in order to send a message to the alpha werewolf. They owed him a great debt.
And Mason liked Freedman. He was a no-nonsense guy, but cool as hell.
Rick made it to the back.
“Freedman,” Sasha called just as pinging noises began to hit the truck. Mason looked back to see the Breed Hunters who had fallen out of their truck heading in the direction of the ravine, guns out, firing at Mason and the others.
“Freedman, hurry!” Rick shouted. Freedman got up, moving as quickly as he could to the back of the truck when the earth shifted and the truck began to tip forward. Mason saw Freedman jumping onto the men in the backseat just as Sasha shoved Mason off of the bumper.
“No!” Rick and Mason shouted at the same time as the truck tilted forward a little more, and then fell over the edge.
Chapter Fourteen
Rick’s heart was lodged in his gut as he spun around and began to fire at the men descending on them. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. A storm was brewing in his head, the fury mounting, and the rage consuming.
He had not gone through all of this to lose his mate. Rick had not fought for his species and battled through monumental odds to watch his mate die. Dorian had been by his side from the beginning. The man even stuck with him when Rick gave him the option to leave and clear his name.
Dorian Campbell had taken a bullet for him and had protected Rick with his life, picked up a gun when he never held one in his life to save his brother. Shot a man in the face to keep them both alive. His spine was made of steel and his heart was courageous.
If Dorian was dead, Rick was going to…he couldn’t breathe. All he could see was Dorian’s face as the man smiled at him, or laughed, making Rick’s heart lighter just from hearing the sound.
Dorian’s sigh.
Rick was not going to lose Dorian’s sigh. That sound kept Rick sane. It kept him from feeling like there was no more hope left in a world gone insane. That sigh colored the dark and murky days, making Rick believe that this war wasn’t the only thing left in the world. He listened for that sigh every night he went to sleep, every stolen moment they shared together. It was the sound of a man he loved more than his very own life.
He dropped his gun as his werewolf exploded from his body, and then Rick took off, his body burning with a mixture of violence and fear as the truck fell over the edge repeatedly in his mind. He ran down the first man, grabbing him and pulling him from his feet as Rick sank his teeth into the man’s throat and then furiously ripped it out with such force that nothing remained but the spine.
His anger was unleashed, and these men would find no mercy.
These men stood in the way of Rick going to Dorian. These savages had caused his mate to plummet over the edge.
They were all going to die.
“Go!” Sasha shouted at him. “We have this and you have a shooter down below with our men.”
How in the hell could Rick forget about Jayson’s ravaged face as he stared up at Rick, aiming his gun toward the front of the truck from the ravine below?
He wasn’t sure how Jayson survived the fall when the man had been sitting in the front seat, but he prayed his men had survived. Rick raced as fast as he could, climbing down the embankment, sliding through the dry earth, his breathing labored as he saw the front of his truck smashed to hell.
Please let them still be alive.
He quickly scanned the area as he scented the air, but Jayson’s scent was fading. The man had taken off. Rick couldn’t detect anyone else that might pose a threat, so he raced toward the truck. It was lying on the hood, upside down, but he could see Freedman crawling out of the back window.
That was a good sign.
The human dropped to his knees and then reached inside the truck, helping Ian get out.
“Dorian!” Rick called in his gravelly voice that was strained with desperation. “Dorian!”
“I’m here,” his mate called as he pushed his way out of the truck. The man stood, brushing himself off and looking a bit stunned, but he was alive. Rick pulled Dorian into his arms and hugged his mate so tightly that Dorian began smacking at Rick’s chest. “I’m fine, but you are about to bust some ribs
.”
Rick released him, running his furry hands over Dorian’s head, feeling the relief wash over him as Peruvian-brown eyes stared up at him. “Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again.”
Dorian rolled his eyes, but there was a quivering just under his skin, telling Rick how truly scared he had been. “I promise to not fall over the side of an embankment again.”
Rick growled as the thought of losing the man hit him hard. “Not funny.”
Dorian shook his head and sighed, letting Rick’s heart finally beat again. The smell of relief and fear was scenting the air around them, letting Rick know that these men did indeed realize how fortunate they were to be alive. Rick glanced toward the sky, gazing through the canopy of trees, and let the knowledge that none of them had died settle his nerves.
Once he was composed, Rick turned, heading toward the back of the truck. “We have to get our things.” When Rick pulled his bag free, he shifted back into his human form and pulled some clothes out, dressing.
“Hey.” Dorian laid a hand on Rick’s arm, giving him a wavering smile. “I’m fine.”
“You could have died, gatito. What would I have done if you had left me?” he asked, pulling his arm free of Dorian’s touch and yanking the shirt over his head. He wasn’t as composed as he thought he was. His hands were shaking, but Rick tried his best to hide how truly shaken he was.
Dorian spun Rick around and hugged him, resting his cheek on Rick’s chest. Rick hesitated and then rested the palm of his hand on Dorian’s soft hair, grateful that he wasn’t burying his mate instead.
Rick looked down at his mate, knowing a life without Dorian was no life at all.
Ian was trying his best not to shake apart as he stood there, watching Mason come toward him with a look of grim determination and total terror on his face.
“Are you hurt?” he asked as he checked Ian over, his strong hands running over Ian’s body.
“Just scared,” he admitted as he glanced at the truck, knowing how close he had come to dying. When Freedman had jumped into the backseat and wrapped his body around Ian and Dorian, Ian had thought in that moment that he wished it was Mason protecting him. He had wished it was Mason he was spending his last seconds on earth with.
But he was alive, and Mason was standing in front of him, looking as if he was about to fall apart. Ian glanced up at Mason, wanting the jaguar to hold him, to give him some measure of safety as he continued to shake apart.
Mason pulled Ian close, holding him as if he had been terrified Ian had died. His strong hand ran over Ian’s head, brushing through his hair. He could hear Mason’s heart under his ear, and it was beating rapidly. Ian curled his fingers into Mason’s shirt, telling himself that he hadn’t died, that Mason was there, giving Ian the anchor he needed.
“We need to get moving,” Rick said as he walked up beside them, interrupting the moment Ian was sharing with Mason. “Are you okay, Ian?”
“Yeah, I’m fucking fine, thanks for asking,” Freedman called to the four of them.
“You’re tough as steel, Freedman,” Rick replied. “It’ll take more than going over the side in a truck to kill you.” Rick’s eyes shifted back down to Dorian, and then Rick grabbed Dorian’s hand and began to walk toward the back of the truck once more.
“Get your asses up here,” Sasha called from the edge above them. “We’re clear for now, but we need to find another vehicle.”
“Town?” Rick called up to Sasha.
Sasha nodded. “That’s where we’ll find the best vehicles to choose from.”
“He sounds like they are going to a dealership rather than stealing one,” Ian commented.
Mason grinned. “Sasha has one of those award-winning personalities.”
Mason released Ian and joined Rick as the two began to pull everyone’s bags from the back. “We’ll store these in Bryson’s trunk until we secure another ride,” Rick said as he hauled a few bags over one shoulder and another two in the other hand. Ian was surprised. Rick didn’t look like he could carry so much weight, but the man didn’t look like he was breaking a sweat as he began to climb up the embankment.
Freedman grabbed the rest as Mason walked Dorian and Ian up the steep hill. Mason grabbed Ian’s hand and pulled him along, helping him tackle the dirt and debris littering the ground as he tried his best to make it up to the others.
Ian studied their joined hands, amazed at the contrast in size. Mason’s hand was twice the size of Ian’s, strong, powerful, yet didn’t hurt as it gripped Ian’s. The fingers folded around his, capturing Ian’s, pulling, but never hurting him.
“We’re almost at the top,” Mason said to Ian.
Ian could see that and wondered why Mason felt compelled to reassure him.
The vampires had never reassured Ian. They did what they wanted regardless of Ian’s comfort. They took, but never gave, not in the sense that they should have.
The only thing anyone got in return was a high…Ian slammed the lid on that thought, pushing it away. He purposefully stumbled, falling, hitting his knee on a rock. The pain exploded in his leg as Mason cursed and helped him up.
But the pain helped him forget the other problem that had tried to rise up inside of him.
“You okay?” Mason asked as Ian got to his feet, rubbing his knee, welcoming the distraction.
“I’m fine.” But as he walked, the pain was constant. Ian concentrated on it, welcoming it. It kept his mind from going places he’d rather not go.
“I want Omar, Dorian, and Ian in the car with Bryson,” Rick commanded as they reached the top of the hill. “If things go bad in town, Bryson will get them out of here.”
“Not on your life,” Dorian argued. “I’m just as capable of handling myself in a shootout as you are, Rick. I’ve proven that.”
“You have,” Rick admitted. “But this is a town full of Breed Hunters. The less men going in, the better. I need you watching Ian and Omar, keeping them safe.”
Ian saw what Rick was doing, and apparently so had Dorian.
“You want me to be a glorified babysitter.”
“Exactly,” Rick answered. “Now get in the damn car.”
“Okay, fine,” Dorian replied as he pulled Ian from Mason’s hand. Ian wanted to grab the strong hand and never let it go, but he followed his brother. “But I’m driving.”
“The hell you are,” Bryson argued.
“The hell I am,” Dorian said.
Ian was seeing a side to Dorian he had never seen before. Dorian had never been this aggressive. His brother had been lazy, laid-back, and just floated through life. Since when did he become this hothead who liked to shoot things?
Ian was impressed.
And a bit frightened. Not of Dorian as his brother. But of this bloodthirsty Dorian who didn’t look like he would take anyone’s shit and blow someone’s head off without thought.
“Bryson drives,” Rick growled. “Besides, how can you shoot anyone if you are driving?”
“Don’t appeal to my renegade side,” Dorian argued.
Rick chuckled and then pulled Dorian into his arms, kissing him. Ian glanced away, trying to free his hand from his brother’s, but Dorian wouldn’t let him go.
“Let’s get going,” Sasha said impatiently.
Rick released Dorian.
“You play dirty,” Dorian said to Rick before he and Ian climbed into the car, Omar taking shotgun.
“I use what I have.” Rick winked at Dorian.
Ian knew couples got along. His parents were a shining example of how a couple could love each other even after thirty years of marriage.
He was glad Dorian had found someone who loved him that much. Ian wished he had been that lucky. Instead, he had found a sadistic club that…Ian pushed the thought away as the car drove off, leaving Mason behind and Ian—for the first time in his life—missing a man who hadn’t placed a claim on him.
Chapter Fifteen
Mason compartmentalized his thoughts and concentrated o
n the task at hand. Right now it didn’t matter how good it felt to hold Ian in his arms. Right now he couldn’t think about how the man had smelled of relief when Mason came running down that embankment.
Right now Mason needed to keep an eye on the back door of the post office the Breed Hunters had ventured into, not let his mind wander to the scorching kiss they had shared this morning. Mason’s cock was becoming thick with need as he thought about how Ian had tried to give himself over to Mason. It had been the most sensually erotic thing Mason had ever experienced.
And being a full-grown changeling male, that was saying something.
But the look of trust in Ian’s eyes had not been lost on Mason. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the smaller man. God knows he did. But Mason wasn’t going to take advantage of Ian while he was in such a vulnerable state. The man had a lot of things to work out before he was anywhere close to ready for Mason’s desires.
Mason pulled his mind away from Ian as his tail swung back and forth. He studied the surrounding area.
There was a large Suburban parked out back, perfect for all of them to fit into and tough enough to get them through most barricades the Breed Hunters liked to set up.
They were on the outskirts of town, the post office being the last building before the forest took over. It was the perfect cover. They just had to get the damn truck from behind the two-story, red brick building without anyone noticing.
The sun was setting, but there was still too much sunlight. Mason had argued to wait until nightfall, but Rick, Sasha, and Freedman had argued that they needed to be long gone from this place by the time darkness settled in.
Mason sat on the long, thick branch in his jaguar form, his eyes fixed on the back of the building, watching for any sign of the truck owner, or anyone else who might try to stop them.
Miguel and Benito were in the woods to Mason’s left, rifles trained on the back door as Rick, Freedman, and Sasha crept into the parking lot.
Freedman silently pulled the driver’s door open, ducked under the console, and began to work while Rick and Sasha stood guard. The tension was so thick that Mason could scent it all the way up in the tree he was perched in. All the men down below were scared, determined, and willing to do whatever they had to in order to get the job done.