Charming the Beast (Purgatory 3) - Page 9/54

Her father had been involved with a particularly nasty pack in Seattle. A branch that had wanted to come from the shadows and take over the area. But the pack leader, David Vincent, was currently in Eric’s custody. The last time Connor had seen the guy, David had been in a silver prison cell, curled up in a fetal position.

Did someone else take over the pack? He’d figure that out, later. For the moment…“I want you to stay at my side, every step of the way, got it?”

“How many are out there?” Chloe whispered.

He didn’t know. He was just hoping it wasn’t a full pack.

He reached under the bed and pulled out his weapons stash.

“Seriously?” Chloe said, her voice strained. “That was all under me? The whole time?”

He loaded the gun with silver bullets. He handed it to her. “If a werewolf comes at you—a werewolf that isn’t me—don’t be afraid to shoot.”

Her fingers curled around the gun. He loaded another. And he took the silver knife with him, just in case.

“Stay close,” he told her again. If he went out the front door, he had no doubt the not-so-welcome wagon would be waiting, but there could be eyes on the back door, too. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

Good thing it took more than a bullet or two to slow him down.

They crept toward the front door.

“We’re going for the motorcycle,” he said. It was their best shot at freedom. “Run as fast as you can with me. We get on the bike, and we don’t look back, got it?”

“Yes, yes, I’ve got it.”

He braced his shoulders. Made sure to stand in front of her. “Don’t be afraid to fire,” Connor told her.

Then he yanked open that door.

***

Through his night vision binoculars, he saw Connor Marrok yank open the door to that sad little shack. He smiled. “Fill him with silver and take that bastard out.”

Connor thought he was so big and bad, but even the bad asses fell.

“Make sure to only hit Chloe with the tranqs. Remember, do not close in. Stay back until I give the order.” Until Chloe is unconscious.

He licked his lips as anticipation filled him. This was it. His moment. Finally.

The thunder of gunfire ripped through the night. Through those binoculars, he saw Connor’s body jerk, just like a puppet on a string. Blood flew. A woman’s scream echoed in the night.

How wonderfully perfect.

When Connor fell—and he’d be falling any moment—his men would have a perfect shot at Chloe.

I’ve been waiting for you, Chloe. It’s time for your nightmares to end. I’m here.

***

Connor had just been shot! At least five—six?—times! Chloe heard herself screaming, and she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t—

“Didn’t I say…to run?” Connor gritted out.

He was still on his feet. And he was…shooting. Aiming that gun and shooting in the dark. He’d sheathed the knife in some kind of strap at his hip and he grabbed for her left hand. Then they were running, but Connor kept his body in front of hers, a giant shield to protect her.

More thunder. More bullets.

She bit her lip to hold back her screams. She could smell silver in the air. Those bullets were laced with silver—that should be a death sentence for a werewolf, especially considering the number of times that Connor had been hit.

The motorcycle was just steps ahead. They were so close, but how was Connor supposed to drive that thing? He was bleeding, had to be close to collapsing.

More bullets thundered.

Connor grabbed her, pulled Chloe close, and covered her with his body as the bullets slammed into him.

***

“He’s not going down,” he barely breathed the words. “That sonofabitch isn’t going down.” And that was impossible! Connor had been hit with enough silver to take out five alphas for shit’s sake!

The guy was moving again, pulling Chloe with him toward that motorcycle. In a few moments, they’d be on that bike, and they would race away through the forest. Chloe would escape again.

Connor, what have you done to yourself?

But he knew. He knew too well. And the battle would be harder than he’d anticipated.

“Switch to the tranqs!” He barked into the phone. He knew his orders would be relayed to the pack. “If silver won’t kill him, then maybe the drugs can knock them both out.” Then they’d cut off Connor’s head while he lay unconscious. “Fire, fire now! Do not let them get to that motorcycle.”

“Should the men move in?”

Move in…close enough for Chloe’s scent to tempt them? That was a risk. A huge one. But once the drugs hit her, her tempting scent would vanish. He knew the trigger for her tempting scent, just as he knew so many of her secrets. “Go in, but fire the tranqs every step of the way. Chloe Quick does not leave, do you understand? If she gets away, then f**king death will come. Death.”

***

The motorcycle was right there! So close. Chloe saw Connor reach for the handlebars and—

Bullets hit him.

Connor jerked back, as he’d done before when he’d been hit. She grabbed for his arm.

Another bullet came at him and sank into his shoulder. Chloe could hear the frantic pounding of footsteps, racing toward them. Their attackers were coming out of the shadows.

Connor pulled her close. “Damn…drugs…” His voice was slurred and he seemed to slump against her. “Get on…cycle…get away.”

More gunshots. He was hit again and his hold on her slipped.

“Get…away…”

Her right hand was still curled around the gun he’d given her. Connor had told her to fire if she saw other werewolves attacking. The men coming at her—they were still men. But she could see the glow of their eyes. Could hear their growls.

They were lifting their guns.

I’m sorry! Chloe fired. Once. Twice.

Two grunts filled the air and the men fell.

But others kept coming.

She fired again, and Chloe kept firing until the gun just clicked.

Moans and howls filled the air.

She dropped the gun and grabbed for Connor. “Come on! Connor, come on!” But he was a dead weight. No, no, this couldn’t be happening! His eyes were closed and he looked as if he were sleeping.

Not dying, not dying… “Wake up!” Chloe yelled at him. They were at the motorcycle. They just had to get on and get out of there. “Please, Connor, please!” Because she couldn’t just leave him. Whoever those men—werewolves—were, they’d already loaded him down with silver. Their intent was obviously to kill him and to—