The second Mir’s foot hit the floor of the basement she raced towards the kitchen, relieved beyond words to find Bry standing at the sink, a potato peeler in hand.

“Oh, thank God!” Mir gasped, sprinting to her sister to throw her arms around her neck.

Bry let out a hearty laugh, hugging her back. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Did you think I’d died or something?”

“Something like that.” Mir pulled away and looked her sister in the eye. “Just—look, something’s happened. I need to get you out of here right now.”

“Out of here?” Bry said. “You mean out of the club? But we can’t—you know what they’ll do.”

“I know, but it’s okay. It’s been looked after. Someone’s on their way to help our family members. They’ll be safe, Bry. The only thing I care about right now is making sure you’re safe, too.”

Bry opened her mouth to speak, but she shut it again and laid the peeler on the counter.

“Okay,” she said, wiping her hands on the front of her jeans. “Tell me what to do.”

Mir reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’ll get you out,” she said, handing over a small purse. “There’s money in here, and a phone. When you get out, head to the Tube station. Find a hotel for the night, somewhere far from here. Call the last number on the phone and tell them you’re safe. I’ll be in touch.”

“Wait—you’re not coming with me?”

Mir shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “Not until I make sure the men—my mates, I mean—are safe.”

“Wait—your mates? What are you talking about?”

Just then, the kitchen door came flying open and Gunner charged in. The moment he set his eyes on Mir, a look of pure ire set itself on his features.

“There you are!” he shouted, running at her. Looking around quickly, Mir grabbed a butcher knife that sat on the counter behind her and held it up in front of her face, pushing her body in front of Bry’s. She lunged at Barton’s hired gun so fast that he fell backwards onto the floor, a look of sheer terror in his eyes.

“Fuck, woman, what’s happened to you?” he asked in a voice that said I may have just soiled myself.

“I could ask the same,” gasped Bry. “Mir? What’s going on? You just moved like a bullet.”

It was true, too. She’d crossed the room so fast she couldn’t even remember how she’d done it. It was as though she’d flown, rather than used her feet.

A smile ticked her lips upwards as a sensation of growing power flowed through her body and mind. So this was what it was like to have two male shifters for mates.

Not bad at all.

“My mates,” she replied, “are powerful. And so am I now.” She handed Bry the knife. “Watch that one,” she said, nodding down towards Gunner as she reached over and yanked a blender’s electrical cord out of the wall. In a swift series of motions she pulled the cord out of the blender itself.

“Turn around,” she snarled at Gunner, who obliged without hesitation, rolling onto his stomach. “Put your wrists together.”

In another rapid-fire series of motions, Mir bound his wrists.

“Bry, open the pantry door, would you?” she asked. Her sister walked over and pulled the broad door open. Mir reached down, grabbed Gunner by the back of the shirt and yanked him upwards.

“Cry out,” she said, “and I’ll cut your throat. Do you hear me?”

He nodded vigorously.

She shoved him into the pantry before reaching into his jacket pocket to grab his keys. She backed away and slammed the door, grabbing a chair and cramming it under the handle.

“Let’s go,” she whispered to Bry, taking her by the hand. “We’ll get you out the back way.”

Moments later they were dashing up the stairs towards freedom.

When they’d reached the back door of the club, Mir used Gunner’s key to unlock it, then pushed it open. A gust of cold air swept in, reminding her just how close Bry was to escape.

“Go!” Mir said. “Find somewhere warm to stay for the night. I’ll make sure no one follows you.”

“You’re really not coming with me?”

Mir shook her head. “Not without my mates,” she said. “Now go!”

* * *

Cad had finally begun to come to, though he was disoriented and confused. He lifted his head just enough to see his friend attached firmly to a chair somewhere to his left. “Phair,” he moaned, “what’s going on?”

“See for yourself,” Phair replied, nodding to something in front of him.

Cad raised his head to see Barton staring down at him, a look of pure malice in his eyes.

“Hello, oh lord of kindness,” Cad said, then he began laughing. He remembered now—Gunner, the tranquilizer that had made him crash to the floor. Whatever had been in that dart, the drugs had definitely had some kind of goofy effect on him. He felt awfully good for a man who was chained to a chair in a dank basement.

Phair shot Cad a look that said Well, I guess I’m on my own.

But Cad shook his head almost imperceptibly. Not on your own. I’m here. I just don’t want them knowing it.

“Which one of you wants to go first?” asked Barton, nodding to Ivan, who grabbed a black leather satchel off one of the shelves.

“What the hell is that?” asked Phair.

“My sack of tricks,” Barton replied. “Very handy for getting answers from people.”

Ivan lay the bag on the floor and pulled it open to reveal a harrowing assortment of shiny silver objects.

“Oh!” Said Cad. “You’re going to torture us!” He let out a high-pitched giggle. “You’re probably looking for answers, aren’t you? Well, I can give you all the answers you want.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” said Barton.

“No, no,” Cad interrupted. “You didn’t let me finish. I’ll give you the answer as long as the question is How tiny is Barton’s dick?” With that, he erupted in another bout of giggles.

Scowling, Barton said, “You know perfectly well what I want from you, shifter. I want to know where the Dragon Alpha is. Where the Dire Wolf Alpha is. I want addresses. Names of their subordinates. All of it.”

“Or what?”

Barton nodded again, and Ivan handed him something that looked an awful lot like a hand drill.

“You’re going to fill my cavities?” Cad said, staring up at the apparatus and chuckling. He turned to Phair, a goofy smile on his face. “Free dental surgery!” he shouted joyously.

“I’ll give you some new ones, how’s that?” asked Barton, the anger palpable in his voice. “How would you like a nice cavity in the side of your skull?” He took a long stride towards the Dire Wolf shifter.

Phair cried out “Wait, stop!”

Barton turned to him, an inquisitive look on his face. “What? You don’t want me hurting your mate here?”

“My mate there is a drooling mess,” said Phair. “Ask me questions. It’ll be fun.”

Cad tried signalling Phair. Shaking his head. “No, no, no,” he said. “Don’t do this. Let him have a go at me. I want him to. I want you to get angry.”

“I’m already angry, Phair growled.

“Not angry enough,” said Cad.

But the stubborn jackass ignored him. He was going to take all the pain for himself.

“Fine,” Barton sighed, moving over to stand directly in front of the Béorn shifter.

“The Dragon Alpha,” Barton said. “I’ve heard his name is Lumen. Where does he live?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” said Phair. “In the sky, probably. He’s a sodding Dragon.”

“Not helpful,” Barton said, lifting the drill up. But instead of pressing it to any part of Phair’s head, he pushed the tip of the vicious-looking bit into his right thigh. Slowly he began to turn the crank, until Phair could see the fabric on his trousers begin to shred.

“Hey!” Cad said, “these are his best clothes, you plonker!”

“He can buy new ones,” Barton snarled, “but buying new legs will be another matter.”

Another turn and Phair winced as the tip of the bit met his flesh.

Cad knew the Béorn shifter would never speak. Barton could have drilled clean into his head and he wouldn’t have been able to extract an answer. Whether he liked it or not, he was a Pack member, and he would never betray his Brothers or the Dragons’ Guild. Not Cad, not Roth, not Lumen. None of them. If Barton had any true understanding of shifters, he would have known it, too.

“Before I dig deeper,” Barton said, pausing to look up at Phair, “do you have anything to say to me?”

“Plenty,” Phair snarled. “For one thing, did you know that you’re going a little bald on top?”

“Fuck you!” Barton shot back. He threw the drill to the ground and raced over to the bag to pull out a sharp knife. He was about to lunge towards Phair when a woman’s voice froze him in his tracks.

“Don’t!” it called out. “Stop, please! I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt them!”