Shifting gears had never been easy for Simon. If he was in the middle of an intense relationship discussion with Alyssa, it would take something significant to jolt him into a fighting place. Something like a bomb going off in the laundromat. Still, his mind lurched as it tried to realign into tactical thinking. What he really wanted to do was grab Alyssa and run to the nearest bolt hole where they could finish what they were doing.
But as the acrid scent of gunpowder and smoke hit his nostrils, he knew that wasn’t possible. So he rushed to the door and ordered Alyssa to get her gun.
She switched mental gears faster than he did. He saw her blanch and then nod. And while he was quietly slipping open her front door to see what was out there, she returned to his side with her gun and a grim expression.
“What—” she began, but he cut her off with the answers she needed.
“I think that was a bomb,” he said softly. “How many other people in the building?”
“Um, a couple dozen, give or take.” Then she held up her phone. “I’ll call 911 and—”
He shook his head. “Call Detective Kennedy. Then get those people down here to go out your bedroom window.” It was opposite the fire, but more important, it was nearest the dumpster and other cover. “Tell them there are snipers at the doors. They have to go out here.”
“Snipers!” she gasped.
“Maybe.”
He watched her put it together in the time it took her to blink twice. Sure, it was possible that something had gone wrong in the laundromat. Or that this was random bad luck. But it was way more likely that Joey was making his move. With the quarantine, the cops were stretched thin. Perfect time to stage an attack on a cash business and be pretend sad when Simon was killed in the crossfire. Damn it, the man had even tipped his intention when he left, saying that he hoped Simon wasn’t inside when everything went boom. Why hadn’t he guessed that the bastard would act quickly and without care for the innocents in the building?
He had to get Alyssa far away from him. That was the safest place for her. He eased the apartment door open again. The smoke was thick, but no more than before. And he could hear a couple people hitting something hard in the laundromat. Probably trying to break into the vending machines to gather whatever money they could find. That meant if there was a fire, it was contained. But he still couldn’t take that risk.
He was about to dash forward when he saw a dark figure coming down the hallway. That was the last thing he needed to lock him into fighter mode. Someone was coming for Alyssa.
The grizzly in him stirred and pressed forward with murderous intent. It knew how to protect a mate. But Simon kept it locked down. He needed to think, not be a huge furry target. So he suppressed the claws that tried to burst through his fingers and though his mouth was pulled back to show his teeth, he didn’t grow a snout. He’d wait. The figure was slipping closer.
Another foot and he’d be able to kill him.
Six inches…
One…
“Vic!” Alyssa whispered.
Vic?
Yes.
Simon reached out and hauled the man inside. He came with a gasp and a struggle, but Simon was quick to muzzle him with a hand over his mouth. Then he leaned in and whispered, “Quiet. It’s me.”
Vic stopped struggling immediately and Simon dropped his hold. They both had their adrenaline amped and their hearts racing, but a quick look told him Vic was human and under control.
“What did you see?” Simon asked Vic.
“Smoke through the laundromat, but there are people in there. Robbing the place.”
“Fuckers,” Alyssa cursed. Vic ignored her.
“If we leave them alone, think they’ll just take the vending machine money and leave?”
He wanted to say yes. He wanted to reassure Alyssa, but he knew it wasn’t true. “If they were just thieves, they would have broken the door and robbed in quiet. These guys made a big, bad boom to get everybody running outside where they can be picked off one by one.”
Alyssa frowned. “But why kill my tenants?”
“Just a few. Cover for when they shoot me. That way it’s not a shifter revolt; it’s an accident because of a psycho. A shifter killing his alpha gets attention, but a random crazy person…”
“Is just crazy,” she murmured.
Vic’s eyes widened. “The Jacksons are already headed out. And Mrs. Cooper. They were in the hall—”
Alyssa shouldered forward. “I got them. I know what to do.”
Simon’s heart lurched at that. His brave woman pushing forward like the boldest army ranger. He had to stop himself from grabbing her back. But she was safer away from him, so he stepped aside.
“Vic, go with her. Guard her six.”
“No. It’s not me they want.” That was Alyssa, her voice hard and quiet. Then she looked at her brother and the two communicated something silently. It was quick and intense, and though Simon didn’t understand how it worked, he could see when Vic locked into her opinion.
“She’s right,” Vic said. “I’m your beta. My place is with you, guarding your six.”
Simon didn’t like it. Hell, everything in him rebelled at it. He wanted his mate safe, and he sure as hell didn’t fight with a team. But the military had drummed that particular idiocy out of him. They needed to end the mastermind behind this attack. And that would require stealth and coordination. Much easier done with a partner.
So he bowed to the logic of the situation, though he still hated it.
Worse, they were out of time. He could hear people upstairs coming out of their apartments.
“I’ve got this,” Alyssa said, and he nodded.
“Go fast and quiet. And be careful.”
“Roger that,” she said. Then she flashed a quick grin. “I’ve always wanted to say that.” Before he could manage to process her humor, she was slipping out and down the hallway. Which meant he had to focus on what he needed to do.
“Got any rope, Vic? Mountain-climbing equipment? Something?”
“Yeah, in my apartment.” Then Vic nodded his understanding. “You want up on the roof.”
“I need to see what’s going on.”
“This way.”
Vic led as they eased out of Alyssa’s place and up the stairs to the second floor. All of Simon’s senses had been attuned to where Alyssa went ahead, whispering to people on the stairs, and sending them toward her apartment. He wanted to protect her, but he needed to trust in her strength. She was calm and smart. She’d be fine so long as he kept Joey away from her.
But he had to find the bastard first, assuming this wasn’t just a random robbery. So he crept after Vic and tried to listen to the sounds coming out from the laundromat. Even in the stairwell, he could hear coins tumbling on the ground. Guess they’d broken at least one machine. Then a voice, muffled and faint from the distance.
“Hurry your asses up. I told you five minutes, no more.”
He knew that voice. It wasn’t Joey’s, as he expected, but someone else he’d talked to recently. One of the shifters.
Hell. He paused, wondering if he should burst in there and take the bastard out now, and then look for Joey. But there were too many unknowns. And a ton of people still in the building.
Best to stick to the plan.
He followed Vic up the stairs, stopping another three from running toward the front door. Whispered communication sent them scrambling for Alyssa’s bedroom window. And then they were upstairs in Vic’s quarters.
His place was surprisingly organized. Messy, for sure, but in controlled areas. That corner for papers and books. That corner for entertainment of all kinds.
“All the climbing gear is in the hall closet,” Vic said as he gestured. Simon was already there pulling out rope and equipment when he realized Vic was running water in the kitchen. Even though he knew the answer, Simon spun around and demanded an explanation.
“What are you doing?”
Vic put a full glass of tap to his lips, pausing long enough to say, “Gearing up.”
“Negative!” Simon snapped. “I don’t need you drugged up and smelling to high heaven. I need you thinking.”
Vic paused, but he didn’t put the glass down. “I’m a better fighter as a hybrid. Stronger. We don’t have a gun. We’ll have to fight hand to hand.”
Simon snorted. “Bullshit. You always have a gun. Where is it?”
Vic sighed. “Locked up behind the desk in the laundromat. You know, where the bad guys are right now.”
Great. So now they had well-armed bad guys. “I still don’t want you amped up.”
Vic grimaced but set down his glass. “You’re the boss.”
Just then another boom rocked the building and that one hit the foundations. He could feel it in the way it concussed around them. Vic knew it too because his expression tightened. He stopped arguing and grabbed the gear. They both knew that whomever was doing this was making sure the building came down around everyone’s ears.
Then it was back into the hallway. One sniff told him that Alyssa was up here, too. Then he heard her bang on someone’s door.
“Mr. Pinero, it’s Alyssa. You need to come out. I know it’s scary, but there’s a fire in the building. Mr. Pinero.”
She banged again and Simon pivoted, intending to help her. But one step in her direction, and she abruptly waved him back.
“I’ve got this!” she hissed. And apparently she did because right then the door swung open and she jerked back. “Mr. Pinero!” she said with a shaking voice. “You’ve got your…um…blunderbuss. Okay. Just point it to the ground as we get out.”
Even in this chaos, his heart warmed with pride. These were Alyssa’s people and she knew how to lead them. He had to let her do her job while he attended to his. So he turned and followed Vic up to the roof. They were stopped two more times by others who needed to be told not to go through the front doors. It was a measure of how scary life had become that no one argued at the possibility of snipers. They just nodded grimly and headed downstairs.
By the time they made it up to the roof, Simon could smell the acrid scent of smoke. The building was on fire, all right. The laundromat was likely a gaping hole right now, and it pained him that Alyssa’s building was going to be destroyed because of him. Worse, they both heard the pops of gunfire. They had no idea who was shooting where and didn’t have time to figure that out as Vic eased open the roof door. As soon as it was cracked far enough, Simon slipped through.
And just as he expected, someone was waiting right there for whomever came up. It was a young man who smelled of sweat and aggression. The BO was thick, indicating he was a hybrid, but he wasn’t in control. Which made it easy enough for Simon to end him. If there’d been more time, he might have tried to simply knock the kid out, but the hybrid was ferocious.
Once the hybrid was down, they made a quick circuit of the roof. No one else was up here, but looking down gave them a wealth of information.
The building was on fire, and there were people down at the front and back of the building. People who obviously hadn’t met up with one of them or simply hadn’t listened. They didn’t look dead, thank God. Just wounded as they crawled to lie beside cars in the parking lot.
A quick look to the side where Alyssa’s window stood showed a couple people slipping out and running hard for the safety of the dumpster. It didn’t appear that anyone had seen them yet, and that was good news. Simon picked out the likely places where the snipers were hiding. Thanks to the city light and the moon, they were pretty easy to spot. None of them was trained, and most of them were too hopped up to remain still. They danced on their feet, adjusted around cars, and one even hit the roof of a car in glee when he shattered a second story window. Apparently, he was bored with waiting for targets and was now just shooting out windows.
That was good for the people still running to the dumpster, but bad for Simon who intended to rappel down a wall. The last thing he needed was for that bastard to look up.
He needed to pick his best point of attack. He wouldn’t do anyone any good if he was shot while descending from the roof. But at that moment, he ran out of time.
There was a shout as someone bellowed, “Over there!”
They’d seen the fleeing people. He heard Alyssa scream, “Run!” and then Vic cursed as another boom rocked the building.
Shit. Things were going south fast. Which meant he’d have to do his best with what little intel he had. So he pointed to a spot on the wall. It was to the side of most of the action, then gestured to Vic. Without another word, he secured his tether and leapt. He didn’t wait for Vic, and he sure as hell didn’t slow his descent until the last possible second. This was about speed.
He landed on the top of a carport with a thud that would be heard by anyone who was listening. Then he stripped off the rope and dashed over the side, dropping down to sprint across the parking lot. Someone did see him. The ping of a bullet hit nearby, but by the time he registered it, he was already across the lot and starting his own hunt.
More shots. Same shooter. He zeroed in on it and began an oblique approach. He glanced behind him once, hoping to see Vic coming in safely behind him. He would have heard the drop if the man had fallen, but sirens sounded in the distance and so he might have missed it. Fortunately, he saw his friend slipping in beside him with a nod. Damn. Vic wasn’t even winded. Which meant he’d either been working out more than he ever had in the military or he was a lot stronger now that he was a hybrid.
Either way, it was a good thing and Simon gestured to coordinate.
A moment later, he came up behind a thick man with ugly tats who stank of the taint in the water. He was jittery and uncontrolled. Simon took him out. Vic handled his partner.
Meanwhile more people had spotted them. Shouts came from either side. All variations on, “The bastard’s over there!”
Confirmation that the bad guys were looking for him. Simon zipped around another car and crouched to see who was coming. He hated this urban warfare crap. A thousand ways to patrol and evade in trees surrounded by natural scents. But this was cars, brick buildings, and the stench of exhaust. He made it work though and he and Vic steadily advanced to where he guessed the shooter was.
Next came the guys who had raided the laundromat. He knew that from the clink of coins in their pockets and the smell of explosives. They went down too easily.
Too late he realized that they’d been the bait. He’d barely turned away from the thieves when a shifter attacked. It was the one who had spoken in the laundromat, and now he remembered the bastard’s name. Richard Howell. Plumber who smelled like beer and sewage. And amped-up testosterone.
He clocked Simon with the butt of a sawed-off shotgun and Simon careened against a car hood. Vic was too far away fighting another shifter, and the air was suddenly filled with stench. Vic had gone monster, but Simon didn’t have the time to pray that the man kept it under control. He was busy recruiting all his strength to roll off the car hood and defend himself. He had enough time to see that Dick was aiming the weapon straight at him and there wasn’t room to duck away.
He kicked up some gravel. It was his only hope as he dove to the side. And then the weapon went off with a deafening roar. Simon tensed, waiting for the impact, but none came. It took him a moment to realize that someone else had come up from behind and knocked Dick over. The shotgun had discharged too high and that saved Simon’s life.
Squinting, Simon saw an elderly black man with a very wide grin on his frail body. He’d used an old-style weapon as a club and was now raising it again just as Dick was coming around with fists the size of hams.
Simon leapt to attack this time. And if he’d been holding back before—trying to knock unconscious rather than kill—he let it all loose now. This bastard was a shifter who had sworn loyalty just yesterday. By shifter law, Simon had the right to do whatever he wanted to the asshole. And so he did.
He took out Dick’s throat. Just swiped hard and fast while letting the tiniest part of his grizzly through. The part that had really sharp claws. Then he spun in a crouch. Vic had finished with his attacker, and they both looked about them. Where was everybody?
Then the old man spoke. “I think that was the last of ’em.” There was clear glee in his tone.
“There were more,” Simon said.
“Yup. We got ’em. Damned punks.”
The man pointed and Simon saw some older men and women, at least three he recognized from the hallway, standing their ground and looking fierce. The youngest had to be sixty, but they were determined. And they all brandished weapons of some sort. Though Mr. Pinero’s was the oldest.
“Is that a real blunderbuss?” he asked. He’d thought Alyssa had been making a joke.
“Yup. Been passed down from my four-great-grandfather.”
He grinned. He couldn’t help it. He’d never thought a blunderbuss would save his life. But even so, his mind was clicking through the possibilities. He hadn’t found Joey yet, and he needed to find Alyssa. Though if he had to guess—
“Simon!”
A chill went down his spine. That was Joey’s voice calling loud enough to be heard over the sirens. He spun to look and saw the bastard at the corner of the neighboring building. It was a single family home with an unkempt yard and a chain link fence around the back and far side. Simon stood in the light of a single yellow porch light and he had Alyssa in a choke hold, a gun to her head. And worse, on the opposite side of Alyssa stood another of his shifters, this one the brown bear.
With extraordinary luck, he could take out one before they killed her. No way could he handle both. Which meant Alyssa was dead.