“You filthy fucking warlock,” he snarled as he swung his massive, shaggy head up to lock glowing eyes on us. “You’d dare to use your foul magic against me?”
Struggling to hold the gun in his bandaged hand, Holbrook raised the Glock, pain and exhaustion making his aim waver.
Heedless of the gun aimed at him, Samson let out a thundering war cry and launched himself at us, the taunt muscles in his thighs bunching and flexing to propel him forward in an impressive leap. A massive muscled arm swept me aside as easily as a rag doll, knocking me into the wall, as he continued forward towards Holbrook. I heard the loud clap of gunfire, the room lit by the muzzle flash for a brief moment, and felt a rush of satisfaction when Samson grunted in pain. My gratification was short-lived, however, as the deranged wolfman plowed into Holbrook, curling taloned hands around the smaller man’s shoulders to lift him off his feet and drive him backwards into the front door.
Holbrook’s head struck the solid wood with a meaty thump, and I watched horrified as he went down like a sack of potatoes, his eyes rolling back in his head until only the whites were showing. When the air was suddenly colored with the rich scent of blood I assumed he had a head wound, and could only hope it wasn’t too bad. The Glock skittered out of his slack grip, sliding across the floor to land between Samson and me. Samson’s gaze drifted to the fallen weapon at the same time mine did, and I knew there was no way I could reach it before he did.
As much as I hated to leave Holbrook alone without knowing how bad his injuries were, he’d be dead for sure if I didn’t lure Samson away.
“Come and get me you psychotic fuck,” I challenged, and then threw myself through the window next to me, covering my head with my arms as I fell through the shattering glass and tumbled to the snow outside.
Chapter 39
ROLLING TO A breathless stop, I launched into a run, not waiting to see if Samson had taken the bait. Over the sound of my bare feet crunching on the frozen snow I heard the telltale tinkling of more glass breaking as he burst through the window frame.
I’d already stripped off my shirt by the time I reached the tree line, and was glad I’d changed into sweatpants when I began to shift, the flimsy cotton tearing away as the wolf emerged. The change flowed over me like water sprouting from a spring, and before I knew it I was dodging through the trees on four feet. Samson’s angry roar rang out behind me, cutting the air like a whip crack. Part of me wanted to run as fast and far as I could, but the rational side of me was aware that I had to make him chase me, leading him away from Holbrook. After that, I had to figure out how the hell I was going to kill the crazy son of a bitch.
I sensed the moment Samson locked on to me—something inside of me was aware of his presence, too. Was that why I’d been having dreams all these years and been able to see his actions in the twisted visions that had haunted me in recent days? Was I somehow inexplicably joined to him through the wolf? I’d never heard of being tied to another were, but there was so much about being a werewolf that I didn’t know or understand. Hell, I didn’t even know if everything I had experienced was normal for a were, or if Samson had done something to make me something else, something different. Sprinting through the trees, my heart pounding like a piston in my chest, I cursed my naivety. What else didn’t I know about my own kind, and how my ignorance could be used against me?
“You can’t hide from me, Riley!” Samson called out, his voice bouncing back and forth between the trees, echoing eerily and making it impossible to pinpoint his location.
Where are you, you bastard?
Slowing to a cautious trot, I tried to listen for any sign of his whereabouts above the sound of my breathing, but was only greeted by silence. Even the creatures of the forest didn’t dare to make a sound for fear that the dangerous beast hunting amongst the trees would find them. Samson was out there somewhere.
Watching. Waiting.
I could feel his eyes on me as surely as if he was standing right beside me, his proximity raising a ridge of fur from the back of my neck all the way down to the tip of my tail. As much as the thought of fighting him terrified me, it paled in comparison to the nauseating sensation of being watched by him. For a fleeting moment I wished I still possessed my human voice and could call him out. Instead, I had to settle for emitting a brief, sharp bark that I hoped would draw him out into the open. At first I thought he wouldn’t rise to the bait, but then my ears perked, swiveling towards the sound of snapping branches as something approached.
Something big and fast.
He exploded out of the darkness in a horrifying maelstrom of gnashing teeth and rending claws, the sight of him leaping out of the shadows like a vision from my nightmares rooted me to the spot in fear. My mind screamed at me to run, but I seemed unable to propel myself into motion, frozen by his twisted visage.