Shifters Escape

by Selina Woods

  A goon entered the room with a heavy collar of metal and a length of chain attached to it. Though I struggled, panicked, they didn’t have much trouble snapping the thing around my neck. Raphael came in and closed the door behind him. “If you think of shifting,” he said, “think again. That is far too small for even your lion neck, and will strangle you the moment you shift.”

  He eyed the goons. “Search him.”

  The pair of them patted me down, inspected my jeans and coat pockets, but never ran their hands down my legs to find the knife lodged in my boot. “Nothing, Raphael,” one said, his tone respectful.

  Nodding, Raphael lifted a long-serrated knife from the table and approached me. Cringing back in my chair, I glanced from it to his implacable face. “Where are the jewels you took from Barry?”

  “I told you,” I answered, panicked. “Down the john.”

  “I wish I believed you.”

  The knife opened my cheek from my eye to my chin. It almost didn’t hurt at first, then as my blood gushed down my neck to wet my shirt and coat, the agony flared. I kept the scream locked in my throat for that one. But as Raphael found plenty of sensitive places to cut, pinch with pliers, and burn with open flames, I lost the battle to keep my shrieks of agony from bursting forth.

  Chapter Fifteen

  How many hours passed, I had no idea. I knew night had fallen, for the darkness pressed against the window beyond the curtains. Blood soaked my clothes, leaked into my boots, and the loss of those precious pints kept me close to passing out. Raphael never lost patience and asked me questions over and over, which I answered the same way—I don’t have the jewels.

  When the gunfire erupted, I almost didn’t recognize it for what it was. Raphael ambled, seemingly unconcerned, to the window and gazed out. “A rescue attempt?” he asked, amused.

  Surely Chad and Morgan took Jae and now headed south to Denver. I swallowed the dryness in my mouth and rolled my head toward the window. He gazed out for a few more minutes, then spoke to the goons behind me. “Go check it out.”

  The pair left the room, closing the door behind them. The rifle fire continued, yet Raphael still watched. “They won’t get in here, you know,” he said, his voice amiable. “Your friends are getting slaughtered.”

  I was alone with him. His enforcers didn’t find the knife. But did I have the strength, as weakened by pain and blood loss as I was, able to kill him? I had to. This was my only chance for survival, and for the survival of those who risked everything to rescue me.

  Raphael still had his back turned toward me. The collar’s chain hung over my shoulder and pooled in my lap. I bent forward, my wounds screaming, as though I were going to be sick. Under my hair falling over my eyes, I saw Raphael glance at me once, then turned his attention to the window again.

  Pulling my pant leg up, I slid the knife from its sheath, then held the hilt in my hand, the blade against my arm. Remaining in the position, I made some choking noises, garnering his attention again. I spat as though I puked, but nothing came up, and he finally wandered back to me.

  “Let’s continue,” he said, pushing on my shoulder to straighten me into a sitting position.

  Uncoiling like a snake, I lunged upward, spinning the hilt in my hand. I plunged the blade into his throat four times in quick succession, seeing the astonishment and shock overtake his eyes. He stumbled away from me, his life’s blood spilling down his chest and shoulders. His hand at his throat, Raphael tried to get to the door, but I got there first.

  “Sorry,” I told him and kicked his knees out from under him. He fell at my feet, choking on his blood, swallowing it, drowning in it. His eyes found mine again as I said, “I told you the jewels got flushed. You should have believed me.”

  Leaving him to die, I opened the door a short way and peered out. I saw no one, but the sound of gunfire still rocked the night outside. Slipping out of the room, I hurried as fast as I could down the hall, my weapon ready. The house itself echoed with silence, and I couldn’t understand why I found no one around.

  The front door burst open.

  I crouched, expecting to get shot by the people garbed in black that poured inside, rifles aimed at me. Oddly, they didn’t shoot, and I gaped as I recognized them. Morgan and Chad.

  “Declan!”

  Morgan and Chad rushed in while the others stood by, rifles aimed in all directions, and grabbed me by the arms. “Shit, Declan.” Morgan grimaced, taking me by the arms. “What did that bastard do?”

  “Ask him later,” Chad snapped. “We got him; we go now.”

  Morgan hustled me out the door behind Chad and the others, the shots still echoing through the night. “Where’s Raphael?” he asked as he urged me to a faster pace toward the trucks parked just beyond Raphael’s.

  “Dead,” I answered, and lifted the bloody knife still in my hand.

  “Why am I not surprised,” Morgan replied with a chuckle, shoving me into a truck.

  The engines roared as Chad and the others climbed in, then screamed away to the street. The drivers blared the horns as we went, and through the windshield, I watched as figures with guns jumped into cars. “That’s the signal we got you,” Morgan explained, taking the knife from my hand. “With Raphael dead, it might take his enforcers a while to get organized without him to give orders.”

  “Don’t matter,” Chad said tersely, gazing at me from the front seat. “They’ll still come after us.”

  “Jae?” I asked, my pain and weakness overwhelming me.

  “She’s fine, kid,” Morgan said. “Once we get the plow, we’ll swing by Porter’s shop and grab everyone. Then we’ll hit the road.”

  I leaned my head back against the seat and shut my eyes. “Morgan?”

  “Yeah, kid?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  Jae screamed with both shock and joy when I climbed from the truck, almost knocking me over in her haste to hug me. “Declan,” she sobbed. “I was so scared you were dead.”

  “Hey, babe,” I muttered thickly against her neck. “It’s okay.”

  She would have held me and cried all night except for Chad. “Jae, we have to go,” he told her. “You and Declan get into the plow with Morgan.”

  Like a field marshal barking orders to his troops, Chad got families and children into the line of vehicles. Shifter males with the rifles got into passenger seats as women got behind the wheels. I urged Jae up into the plow’s cab first, then climbed stiffly up behind her. Morgan had already started the engine.

  Leaning out the cab window, he yelled out, “We ready?”

  “Go, go, go!”

  Letting out the clutch, Morgan shifted the transmission into first and drove the snowplow down the street. I leaned out my window, and looked out, seeing the long line of cars and trucks following. Yet, thus far, there was no sign of Raphael’s goons.

  “Tell me how you rescued me,” I said as Morgan shifted the big vehicle into a higher speed, Jae clasping my hand.

  “We went to the bar,” he told me, glancing at the side mirrors as he pressed the accelerator. “Got Chad. He organized a bunch of the shifters as the families headed to Porter’s shop. We knew Raphael would have taken you to his house. We went to get the supplies and guns, loaded the trucks, then armed all the guys. Those boys took out a shit-load of goons, I’m telling you.”

  “So, you went in to find me.”

  Morgan grinned. “Only to find you standing there, ready to slit some throats.”

  Though it hurt like hell, I chuckled. “You were right. Raphael’s arrogance worked against him. He didn’t think I was a threat to him at all.”

  “How bad are you hurt?” Jae asked.

  “I’ll be all right,” I told her.

  Morgan left the city and drove fast onto the entrance to the freeway south. “There’s a rifle down on the floor there,” he said grimly. “You may want to pick it up, be ready.”

  I did and awkwardly pointed the business end out the window. �
�What’s the plan?”

  “It’s all ready to fire,” Morgan said, “just pull the trigger. We’re gonna ram the roadblock with this plow, bust right through those shits.”

  Up ahead, lights gleamed in the absolute dark as we bore down on the enforcers. I half stood, socking the gun to my shoulder and taking aim at the cars blocking the road. Tiny flames broke the night as the goons fired their rifles, bullets pinging harmlessly off the heavy steel plow.

  “Shoot those assholes!”

  I fired the gun. The recoil hurt my shoulder something awful, but I kept on firing, seeing the goons duck down behind the protection of their cars. I glanced over at Morgan. “Don’t they see we’re gonna blast right into them?”

  “Keep shooting,” he ordered.

  I obeyed him, firing the rifle. One of my shots must have hit a fuel tank, for an explosion rocked the darkness, red and orange flames boiling upward. Morgan downshifted, speeding the plow up even as shadows fled the roadblock and the flames. Rifles spat bullets at us, striking the steel, the plow’s huge dump bed behind us.

  “Here we go,” he yelled.

  The plow struck the cars head-on, smashing them like toys, forcing the remains to the sides. Another gas tank exploded, splitting the night, the flames hot on my face as I drew my head back inside the cab. Dimly, I heard screams and shouts, but we were past them before they fully registered in my ears.

  Sticking my head out again, I looked back, seeing the cars and trucks behind us all intact, still following us. Rifles barked out of windows, and whether they hit anyone, it didn’t matter. We had escaped Cheyenne and Raphael. Those enforcers we left behind would no doubt kill one another until another leader surfaced to take control.

  I grinned at Jae, and she squeezed my hand. None of that mattered.

  We were free.

  Epilogue

  Unerringly, my blood took me straight to her.

  We rolled slowly down the street, a long column of cars and trucks following the plow, and me. I stared in astonishment at the clean city, the smiling people free from gang rule, the simple prosperity. There were no guns in sight, no enforcers shaking down the civilians.

  “Look at this place,” Jae breathed. “Everyone looks so happy.”

  “This is a big town,” Morgan muttered. “How in the hell do we find your mother? Ask for directions?”

  “Keep going straight,” I answered. “Go down three blocks and take a right.”

  He glanced at me but obeyed.

  People and children stopped what they were doing to stare as we drove like a parade through the streets, me giving Morgan directions to a woman and a place I had never seen before. My guts tied in knots, I had him pull to the curb in front of a grocery store.

  “How do you know this is it?” Morgan asked, cutting the engine.

  My mouth dry, I replied, “I don’t know. But I’m right.”

  Still in pain, but mostly healed from my torture, I jumped from the cab and helped Jae down. Chad and the other drivers also parked, the families emerging from cars, staring at the people who stared at them, a small crowd forming around us all.

  Three people stepped out of the store, but my eyes looked only at the woman. I gulped, more afraid than I had ever been in my life. Perhaps in her forties, she was still slender and beautiful, a few strands of gray in her red-gold hair. A tall man with black hair streaked with gray held her hand and eyed me with bright blue eyes. The third guy was big, menacing even, and instantly I knew he was an enforcer. He had the same look they all did.

  Not quite knowing what to say, I stepped toward them, afraid I was wrong and terrified I was right. “Mother?”

  A tremulous smile crossed her face. “My son. You came home.”

  The next thing I knew, I was in her arms. I breathed in her scent, the memory of her wafting across my mind. “Mom.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she let me go, but held onto my hand. “This is Axel, my mate,” she said, gesturing toward the tall shifter. “And this is your brother, Ragnor.”

  Brother?

  The big dude suddenly grinned, and he didn’t look mean after all. “My little brother,” he said, laughing, and embracing me in a hard hug.

  When Ragnor released me and stepped back, I gestured toward Jae, bringing her forward. “This is Jae. We’re going to be mated. This is Morgan, who protected me.”

  My mother gazed from me to Jae and Morgan. “Welcome, Jae, Morgan.” Her stunning eyes turned to me again. “My son, my youngest child, welcome home.”

  NEXT BOOK IN THE SERIES

  Lions might be the kings of the jungle, but in post-apocalyptic Miami few want to claim the bloodied throne. When Logan the lion shifter is forced to step up, he must leave his dreams of having a mate and family in the past. But Kiana is beautiful, kind and full of hope. Love could redeem them both, or form a dangerous dent in Logan’s armor.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Selina Woods lives in Denver with her two cats. She began writing at a young age, and has continued to pursue her passion. Her imagination and creativity come to life on paper as she writes her Paranormal Romances from her home. She writes all types of paranormal romance stories but writing about sexy steamy alpha shifters is her passion. Her books are adventurous, from the heart and full of romance. On her downtime she enjoys an evening curled up buried in a good book or spending time with good friends.

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  Selina Woods