chapter SIX
Reed pulled the car into the garage and slid from behind the wheel. They hadn’t said a single word the past two hours. He’d driven the distance stealing glances at Denver, the rear view mirror, and the land stretching out before them. Tomorrow they would leave. However, tonight they needed to rest. He didn’t know where but knew he needed to put some distance between this place and him. He needed to regroup and rethink his plan. It wouldn’t be too hard to track down his attackers, Laura’s murderers. That’s what they were, cold-blooded murderers. She wasn’t the only one they’d killed and if he didn’t stop them they would continue the slaughter of innocents. He wasn’t going to stand by and allow that.
Laura’s blood and the blood of so many more coated his hands and weighed heavy of his soul. He’d never been a proponent of vigilante justice but now it was befitting a righteous ending.
Denver didn’t stir when he opened his door. She didn’t open her eyes when he slid his arms around her body and lifted her from the car. Her body, like fragile glass, burrowed into him as he cradled her in his arms and carried her into the house. Pushing the door open he paused, searched his surroundings for changes, danger. He tilted his head toward the ceiling and inhaled, like a male searching for prey. Not smelling anything different, dangerous, he moved into the house and kicked the door shut behind him.
He locked it, threw the dead bolt and moved toward the stairs. It tore at his heart, twisted his gut when she whimpered as he laid her on the bed. She’d sleep now. Tomorrow they’d figure out the next steps. Reed tugged her shoes from her feet and gently drew the blanket across her body.
As he turned to leave the room, she murmured, “It’s all my fault.”
He wasn’t sure if she was awake or dreaming. Either way, the anger that clenched his gut sent bile to the back of his throat.
“No baby, it’s not.” He attempted to sooth, to comfort. “This is not your fault. It’s mine.”
He folded his long frame into the chair next to the bed. The same one she’d sat in when they first arrived, when she sat vigil next to him. Now it was his turn.
* * *
He wasn’t sure if it was Denver’s heavy breathing, the wind rustling the branches outside the window or something else that woke him, but whatever it was it sped his pulse and sent his senses into overdrive. Reed’s eyes sprang open as he gazed around the room. He preened his ears for the sound, hoping to hear it again. It didn’t take long. He concentrated and peeled back the layers.
It was as if the air stilled. Her breathing stopped, the wind ceased to blow and the earlier sounds of crickets dissipated to what lay beneath. Reed was up out of the chair and beside the bed in one second sharp. Denver sat bolt upright, just as his hand cupped her mouth. Slowly she slid his hand away. Her eyes held that black hole darkness he’d seen before when she was angry. Her chest rose and fell with a calmness that could have scared him if he scared easily. He didn’t.
Denver swung her legs from the bed and was reaching in the drawer of the bedside table for her gun as he wrapped his fingers around the other. Thank God for friends with weapons. He cradled the Glock in his hand and tilted it toward the window. Denver shook her head, a slow movement. She pointed hers toward the bedroom door. A smile fractured his insides.
As if they read each other’s mind, they moved towards the door. Reed took point. Denver attempted to push him out of the way but he glared at her and the expression he gave her told her it was his way and nothing else. He had to give it to her. She was a strong one, the strongest female he’d ever met, by far. But she didn’t need to know it.
“How long have you been awake?” he asked.
“Long enough to know that wasn’t the wind.”
So what, was she reading his mind now? Reed paused at the top landing, just where the stairs curved. Instinct had his head tilting and he sniffed the air again. He heard movement in three different areas. Smelled three different scents—all human. Maybe.
So it was true. Someone was at the hospital. But why did they wait until they got back to the house? They could have taken them out in several different places along the route.
A soft growl escaped Reed’s throat a second before the wave of heat slammed his body against the wall. He didn’t have time to raise his gun before another fist of heat punched him, sending the gun skidding across the floor.
Okay, not human.
Denver’s harsh intake of breath told him she felt it too. She staggered back but was able to catch herself before she fell.
Reed took a step, was hit again and this time it threw him down the flight of stairs. He felt something snap in his shoulder. He grimaced but not from pain, from the wave of anger that rolled through his body. He righted himself and leaped toward the large framed person standing ten feet from him. His body slammed into the man and together they crashed, rolled, tangled. He spotted the gun he’d held earlier. He didn’t want it, not now. A person with this type of energy and power wouldn’t be stopped by a gun. Whoever it was that came for them was not some ordinary man.
Reed bit down on the craving to sink his teeth into the man’s throat, to rip it apart. He planned to kill him slowly, bathe his hands in the man’s blood a second before he pulled his heart out.
A fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head to one side. The ringing it left in his ears pulsed in his temples. He caught a glance of Denver rushing down the stairs. Gun drawn, but she didn’t shoot. She was yelling something, but for the love of God he didn’t know what. A kick to his gut punched the air out of his lungs.
If he didn’t gain control, this man would kill him and Denver. He did the only thing he knew. He called on his beast. The wolf rolled through his body reminiscent of a thunderstorm. It stormed up to the surface begging to be set free. If only he knew how. His beast itched along his spine, tugged on his muscles and scraped along bone. Sometimes the pain was excruciating, but not this time. This time it felt good. Reed knew why.
The intruder threw another punch. Reed ducked. He needed the anger, wanted it, and relished it. He tried for another. Missed him by a foot. Reed charged, slamming into the man full force. He heard something crash, someone yelled. He tasted blood, but it wasn’t his. He had the man’s arm between his teeth. When the bone crunched beneath his bite, it was rapturous. A wave of fear fractured the air. Yummy. Fear usually meant food.
“No!”
He would have ripped the stranger’s arm from his body if Denver hadn’t screamed. Her voice fractured the air and sent a cold chill along his spine. Now what? No, don’t kill the intruder? Or maybe the no was for the intruder to not kill him. Reed released his hold on the arm as he grabbed the man around the neck and threw him against the wall. The man cradled his ripped arm against his chest, his eyes scanned the surroundings as if he were looking for an escape route. He would not get away that easily. Not this time. This time, Reed had the upper hand and he had grown tired of running. Whoever this man was, Reed was sending a message back to the vermin who was tracking and killing his people.
The power rolling off his body almost made him laugh. Damn it felt good. The man straightened his body. He was at least six and a half feet tall, two hundred and forty pounds easy. He held out his hand almost in offering but Reed knew it was much more than that. Whatever the man threw at him sucked the air from his lungs. It rippled across his skin like a lightning bolt, prickling his skin with a million needles. However, the pain subsided as quickly as it began.
Denver jumped and placed her body between him and the intruder. What, was she crazy? Why would she do such a stupid thing? At no time did he want her to give her life for him.
“Get the hell out of the way, Denver.” He growled out the words and shoved her aside.
“Sto-- stop!” Her breath ragged. Sweat covered her forehead.
Reed grabbed Denver around the waist and pushed her behind him. He crouched into fight mode, his hands and teeth at the ready to claw, bite and rip. Whatever it took to destroy.
Denver pulled on Reed’s arm, trying to back him up. “Stop!” She yelled again and this time it sunk in. Reed sucked in a deep breath and tried to make some sense of what the hell was going on. Who was this person and why was Denver trying to hold him back?
“Denver! What the hell are you doing here?” The man took a step back, still holding his arm against his chest. Blood dripped from the wound onto the floor.
Reed took a step closer, a harsh growl escaped his throat.
“Maggie, what are you doing here!”
Maggie. Maggie as in homeowner? Maggie as in the owner of the weapons and everything else they’d borrowed from the house?
Damn.
“You know this man?” Reed tried to calm his breathing as he scooped the gun from the floor and tucked it into the back of his pants. His beast prowled just under his skin, scratching and clawing and begging to be allowed to break free.
“It’s Maggie… Magnimus. “
“His home?”
“Yeah.”
“F*ck.”
Reed didn’t take his gaze off the man who was standing in the corner. He didn’t trust him, couldn’t. Their gazes collided like bulls. The feeling was mutual. Power fighting against power. Would they ever know who carried the most? He almost wished they’d finished just so he knew.
“Damn it, Maggie. We could have killed you. What the hell are you doing back?” Denver paused, sucked in a breath. “You weren’t supposed to be here until next month.”
“Something was wrong. I could feel it.” He cut his gaze from Reed to Denver, and then back to Reed. “If you were in shape, you would have known it was me.” He held up his arm.
“Ah, hell. You’re gonna bleed to death.” Denver tugged her tee shirt over her head and stepped up to Maggie and started wrapping it around his arm.
The vision of her standing topless in front of this man as if nothing were out of place pulled another growl from Reed’s throat and flared his nostrils. She glanced back over her shoulder and shook her head. Why would he be jealous of this man, a man he’d never seen before? What was he to Denver? A friend or… an old lover? Already Reed didn’t like him.
“You almost tore his arm off!”
“Could have been his head.” The corners of his mouth curled up into a not so nice smile. Reed lowered his breathing and heartbeat and willed his beast to retreat. The beast grumbled low and deep inside his belly, but he retreated. He retreated almost as quickly as he’d come. However, Reed knew it wasn’t far, just standing back in the shadows, waiting, watching, wanting. Damn, his hunger was back.