Izzy regained consciousness like a freight train barreling down the tracks: with a roar and a shudder that shook her from head to toe.
“Easy, Iz,” Freddie said, trying to push her back down.
“Abby?” she wheezed.
Freddie’s face crumpled. “They took her.”
She shook off her brother’s hands and jumped to her feet. A wave of dizziness threatened to knock her on her ass, but she ignored it. Didn’t matter if she fell. She’d crawl if she had to.
She took a lurching step. And another.
“Wait, Iz.”
She didn’t.
Couldn’t.
Swaying, she aimed for the French doors that opened out into the backyard, but Rissa stood in her way, human and naked and streaked with blood.
“Don’t run off half-cocked, alone,” Rissa said, panting slightly. One arm hung awkwardly at her side. The shoulder looked dislocated.
Behind her, someone pounded on a door, and Izzy spun around, fists up. In the hallway that ran deeper into the basement, Dev leaned against a wall. Like Rissa, he was naked and dripping blood from the gunshot wound in his shoulder.
He pounded on the door again. “Sarah, open the door.”
Izzy turned back to Rissa, pissed at more than just being startled by Dev. “Why shouldn’t I go after Abby right now? So more of your pack can show up to help like your sister did?”
Tears leaked from Rissa’s eyes and trickled down her face unchecked. Izzy felt like a bitch. Who knew better than she did that sometimes sisters betrayed you?
To Rissa’s credit, she didn’t try to defend her sister. “Getting yourself killed is not going to help Abby.”
“Come on, Sarah. Please,” Dev said, still talking to a closed metal door. “Are Hank and the boys in there?”
Silence.
“Are they?” Freddie whispered, hopping on one crutch toward the other man. The hope in his voice was a siren’s call and Izzy followed him.
The steel door looked like it could withstand a nuclear blast. Scuffs and scratches marred its surface, and it had a dent near the knob. Weird, muted, high-pitched growling came from within the room, fierce and nasty.
Izzy’s heart rate ratcheted up. God, please let Hank be okay.
Dev exchanged a look with Rissa. He tipped his chin to a control panel mounted next to the door. “The code’s been changed. It’s locked from inside.”
“Are you sure it’s Sarah in there?” Rissa asked.
“I think so.” He pointed to a smear of red near the knob. “That’s her blood.”
Grim-faced, Rissa stepped up to the control panel and pressed a button. “Sarah? It’s Rissa. Open the door.”
After a few seconds, static rasped, then the doctor’s familiar voice said, “Not sure I should do that.”
Rissa’s face registered pain, but her voice was calm when she pressed the mic button again. “Izzy and Freddie are with me. Do you think they’d hurt their dad?”
Another few seconds passed, then click!—the door popped open, revealing Sarah. She was clothed, but looked as bad as Rissa and Dev. One side of her face was swollen and red. Blood stained her tattered shirt. She sniffed, and some of the wariness faded from her eyes.
She opened the door wider and Izzy’s heart fell to the soles of her boots. “Dad!”
Arm in a makeshift sling, Hank was propped up on a bed in the middle of the room, head back and eyes closed. He was pale. So very pale.
Izzy ran toward him, stopping short when two balls of fluff reared up on the bed between them and snarled at her. One, a brindled gray with bright white fangs, took a swipe at her with its claws.
“Justin, shh. Stop that,” Hank said, his eyes glazed with pain. He pulled the vibrating fiend back by the scruff of the neck, setting it in his lap, before grabbing the other little werewolf—a werewolf!—and placing it next to its cohort. It was black, with a white strip down his nose and chest. “Don’t be rude. That’s my Izzy-girl.”
For a moment, she thought she’d pass out, before she remembered to breathe. The black spots faded from her vision, and she blinked. She tried to form words, ask an intelligent question. Sounds even came from her mouth. Not a bit of it was coherent.
She sank to her knees next to the bed.
Freddie hobbled around the end of the bed and stood next to her. “Justin? Nate? Holy shit.”
The pint-sized wolves continued shaking and baring their vicious-looking fangs. Their ruffs stood on end. Sarah sat down on the edge of the bed and scooped up the black one, cradling him in her arms. He whined piteously as he snuffled under her chin.
Justin edged closer to her and sniffed before he flopped down as if he couldn’t stand another second.
Hank patted his head. “Poor boy. First change and all this scary stuff. It’ll be okay.”
Izzy reeled. Freddie steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. “Ch-change?” she sputtered.
Hank gave her a look she knew well. The one that said she was being stupid. “Where’s your mother?” he asked. “She heard the commotion and damned if she’d leave her chicks to fight alone. Made Sarah let her out.”
Again, Izzy’s lungs froze in panic.
“They—they took her,” Freddie said. His voice broke. “I could—couldn’t shoot. I didn’t want to hit Mom.”
Izzy didn’t remember standing up or grabbing Hank’s hand, but she had. She looked into the eyes of the man who had taken her and Bess in and cared for them when no one else wanted to. No matter how horrible and crazy they were, he’d always been there with a kind word and open arms. “I’ll get her back, Hank. I promise.”
He held on to her hand when she would have pulled away. “You called me ‘Dad.’”
She nodded and tried to hide her tears by rubbing her forehead against his hand.
“Izzy, look at me.” She did. His denim-blue eyes were clear and intent. “The day you and Bess came to live with us was one of the best days of our lives.” He looked at Freddie. “All of our lives. We needed to love you just as much as you girls needed someone to love and take care of you.”
She couldn’t help it. Tears poured from her eyes and she sank to the floor again, laying her head on the bed. Hank stroked her hair with a strong, callused hand.
“From the moment we met you, we knew there was more than just heartbreak and abuse tying you up in knots,” he said. He huffed a laugh. “Though not even your brother’s imagination was good enough to conjure up the truth.”
Freddie chuckled and sat down next to her, rubbing her back as Izzy cried.
“Is this what you are?” Hank asked. “A werewolf like Sarah and the boys?”
Inside, her stomach churned and the wolf buzzed loudly. She shook from head to toe, but Hank’s steady voice and soft touch on her hair made her look at him. When she did, his eyes widened and she knew hers glowed wolf-gold.
She whispered, “Yes.”
Hank stroked a finger over her cheek. “Pretty girl. You and Bess did your darnedest to distance yourselves, didn’t you?” He didn’t really expect an answer, but she nodded anyway. He tugged her hair. “Did you think we couldn’t handle it?”
“We...we didn’t want to hurt you.”
He rolled his eyes. “As if you ever could.” He scowled. “That’s your grandmother talking, isn’t it? Horrible woman. I should have let Abby snatch her head bald like she wanted.”
Izzy felt like she was floating in a dream. She had no words. Only love.
And fear.
Finally, she managed, “Hank, they have Abby. I have to go.”
“Those bastards said you were dead,” he said. “You and Freddie. If we lost you—” His face twisted and he looked over her shoulder at Rissa, who was wearing too-large sweats and was plastered to Freddie’s side. “I’m sorry, honey, but that sister of yours is a mean little snot.”
“I know, sir,” Rissa said in a small voice.
“Not your fault, sweetheart. Not your fault.” He fixed Izzy with one of his patented I-mean-business glares. “I know I can’t stop you from going. But you do it smart. You take help. And”—he held up a finger—“it’s not ‘Hank.’ And not ‘Abby’ either. You are our daughter. You hear me?”
Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “Yes, sir. Dad.”
He nodded. “Good. Now go find your mother. She has some things to say to you, too.”
Somehow, Izzy found her feet. Freddie hugged her tight. “Izzy—” He hugged her again, his voice hoarse. “Love you.”
“You, too,” she choked out.
Rissa stopped her just outside the door. “We’ll get Abby back. And then”—her voice descended into a vibrating growl—“we’re going to kill my sister.”