Chapter Fourteen
Byron’s jaw tightened when he watched Lana bolt up the stairs alone. What the hell is she thinking? He took a step after her, but Speedy rammed into his stomach and sent him sprawling in the opposite direction.
A shot fired to his right, and a shrill cry ended abruptly as the vampire attacking Greg turned to dust.
Now they had three werewolves battling one bloodsucker. His lips curled into a grin. He liked those odds.
He lifted his gun and unloaded it into the flying blur in front of him. It froze in the air like one of those high-speed camera shots, capturing the vampire’s look of shock as the bullet penetrated his heart. Then he exploded into a cloud of dust.
“That was fun,” Greg said as he offered to help him up. Blood oozed down from the scratches on his friend’s arms, coating his hands with sticky goo.
Byron winced as he grasped the gore-covered hand. “It’s not over yet.” He jumped to his feet and ran for the staircase.
Two sets of feet pounded behind him. A loud crash came from the end of the hallway. His heart pounded. Lana was in trouble.
A familiar scent caused his hackles to rise. A figure stepped out of one of the side rooms and raised a gun at them. “Going somewhere, Byron?”
“Alan, why you backstabbing son of a—”
A shot silenced Greg’s threat, and he crumpled to the ground. Wet coughs rose from his body.
Pete ducked down to tend to him while Byron fought to restrain the infuriated wolf inside. “What are you doing here, Alan?”
“Sealing my position in the pack.” He aimed at Byron and fired again.
A sting ripped across his upper arm, followed by the spread of slowly searing heat. The bullet had only grazed him, but the touch of silver burned deeper than the wound. The wolf’s rage threatened to seize control of him. He pulled his trigger only to get a click.
Shit!
Alan laughed. “Should have reloaded.” A volley of shots exploded from his gun, sending Byron and Pete running for cover in a side room.
Byron’s breath came in short pants. His best friend lay bleeding on the floor, a member of his pack had betrayed them to the bloodsuckers, and it sounded like someone was beating the crap out of his mate on the other side of the far door.
All in all, a friggin’ peach of a night so far.
He pulled a handful of bullets from his pocket and shoved them into his empty clip.
“Greg’s hit, but not badly,” Pete whispered.
“He’s using silver.”
A hissed curse escaped from the other werewolf’s lips. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”
“Not if I get to him first.” Byron whipped around the doorway and squeezed the trigger.
Alan stumbled back and responded with his own shot, which went wide.
“You know the penalty for treachery, Alan.”
Alan pressed a hand against his hip. The metallic smell of blood thickened the air. “Only if there’s anyone left to carry it out. I’m sure everyone else in the pack will believe me when I tell them you died in the struggle with the vampires. I knew you had something up your sleeve, so I came here to warn Klaus. I’m so glad I was still here when you arrived. Now I get the pleasure of killing you myself instead of trusting Klaus to finish you off like he did Eddie.”
Byron stared down the barrel of Alan’s gun and lost control of his inner beast. His senses heightened. Everything started to move in slow motion, from the miniscule flexion of Alan’s finger to the tendrils of smoke that rose from the chamber of the pistol. Several pulses pounded in his ear. Sour bile filled the back of his throat, and beads of sweat prickled his skin. He doubled over, recognizing the signs of the unavoidable shift occurring in his body.
Even though it felt like eons, his transformation took less than a second. His hands turned into paws before they hit the wooden floor, and he licked his fangs with the hunger for revenge gnawing at his gut.
Alan’s eyes opened wide, and he took a few clumsy steps back before turning to run.
Byron pounced and sank his teeth into the traitor’s shoulder. Bitter blood filled his mouth, bringing little satisfaction until Alan’s whispered pleas for mercy filled his ears.
Mercy is only for the weak, the wolf growled in his mind. He’ll only destroy everything you hold dear.
His jaws clamped around Alan’s throat and ripped it out. A few wet gurgles popped through the bubble of blood that appeared from his last breath. Then, his enemy grew still.
“Holy shit, Byron!”
Greg’s voice soothed some of his rage. He spat the remnants of Alan’s flesh from his mouth and looked at his pack-mates.
A sharp feminine cry from the far bedroom stabbed his chest like a knife. “Help me get the damn door open.”
Both men bolted when the Alpha gave a command, even if he didn’t speak it. As a wolf, he didn’t need words. He just needed the bond of the pack to express his thoughts to them.
Pete rammed the door once, and the wood splintered.
Byron’s paws danced with impatience. He could smell Lana’s blood and fear from the other room. Her pain called to him like a silent scream. He had to get in there before Klaus destroyed her like he had Eddie.
The door burst open just in time for him to see the vampire’s fangs pierce the flawless skin of her neck. His vision turned red. He leapt over Pete and barreled straight for Klaus. The force of his blow broke the bloodsucker’s seal over her vein, and Lana fell to the floor like a limp rag doll. The faint pulsations of her heart filled his ears and formed a rhythm for his attack as he snapped his jaws.
Klaus’s face twisted in an animalistic snarl, and the fire in his pale eyes illuminated the darkness. He grabbed one of Byron’s front legs and yanked him close enough so his needle-like fangs could reach the tender flesh of his shoulder.
A yip of pain tore from Byron’s throat. He frantically twisted his body to break free and bite his attacker.
The vampire’s sucking drained more than his blood. It depleted his strength and whispered thoughts of defeat in his mind. “You’re too weak to save her. You’ve failed everyone—Eddie, Lana, Espe, the pack. Death is more merciful than the shame you’ll have to live with if I let you go.”
A bitter taste filled his mouth. Byron struggled against Klaus’s whispers, unwilling to surrender so long as Lana still lived. He couldn’t fail, not now, not when he was this close to having his revenge.
He heard the faint sound of a chair scraping across the floor over the pounding of his heart. Pete and Greg must’ve grabbed Espe.
Byron glanced over at Lana, and his chest tightened. She barely showed any signs of life. Why did she have to suffer for his failure? Why did she have to die because he was too slow, too weak, too careless? He should have chased after her the second he saw her run up the stairs.
Anger raced through his body. Like hell he’d give up without a fight. This was Lana, his mate. He wouldn’t let this bloodsucking bastard have her. Possessiveness augmented his rage and tightened his muscles. He wrenched his body around and swiped his paw across the vampire’s face.
Klaus lifted his head with a howl of pain, and Byron bit into his neck, determined to rip the bloodsucker’s head from his body.
“Move!” a shrill female voice ordered.
He jumped to the side as Espe used all her slight weight to plunge a stake into Klaus’s heart. Dust and ash filled Byron’s mouth where flesh used to be, and the vampire disappeared.
His rage evaporated with the speed of mist in the hot desert sun. He crawled closer to Lana and allowed his body to slide back into its human form. Just as it did every month, the transformation left him naked and exhausted. He pulled Lana close to him and listened for her pulse. It fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings under her cold and waxy skin. She still lived. Relief tempered the pain his body felt, but it did little to ease the ache in his heart at seeing her in this condition.
“Here.” Pete handed him a piece of his torn shirt to press against her neck. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
Espe pushed the other werewolves away and examined Lana’s wounds. “I need something I can use as a tourniquet on her arm. She’s losing too much blood.”
“I’ll grab some more of Byron’s clothes.” Pete disappeared into the hallway with his cell phone up to his ear.
Byron felt like a person watching a movie around him, still in too much shock to do anything useful. Espe wrapped shreds of material around Lana’s arm and neck. Red blobs of color expanded over the fabric like inkblots. Shallow breaths created a gentle rise and fall of her chest, and her heart raced under his fingers.
Please keep fighting, my love. Help will be here soon.
“Just bite her already.” Greg’s voice snapped him out of his trance. “Turn her into one of us, and she’ll start healing herself.”
Espe froze. Her large brown eyes widened in fear, and she leaned away from him.
“No,” he growled and held her even closer to him. The cool dampness of her skin chilled him to the bone.
“She’s dying, Byron. And if she dies, so do you.”
“I said no! I’m not going to force anything on her. If she chooses this life, then it will be her choice, not a sentence given to her against her will like we experienced.”
“If you won’t do, then I will.” Greg’s lips curled back to reveal his teeth, and he grabbed her arm.
Byron backhanded him with more force than he intended. Greg fell to the floor, releasing Lana’s arm in the process. Blood trickled down his chin.
“I’m the Alpha, and what I say goes.” He clung to her limp body, his soul whispering to hers not to give up. He needed her like air, and the thought of life without her exceeded his notions of torture. If she died, he’d follow her. Such was the bond between true-mates.
Soft fingers covered his cheek. “She’ll pull through this,” Espe said softly. “Hunters like Lana don’t make it this far without being stubborn.”
For both their sakes, he prayed she was right. He closed his eyes and focused his love and energy into the woman who held his heart in her hands.