Chapter Seventeen

Luke

 

I had no idea why, and, at the moment, I didn’t care.

Fury made me run even faster, flashing past Reagan and heading for the two Skrors behind her. They hastily grabbed their weapons, one flashing a machete and the other a bow and arrow. Something like a laugh escaped me, and it sounded terrifying coming from my jaws.

The machete one dropped it and ran for the ocean.

The second one fumbled with the bow and arrow. In another second, I had the bow in my jaws and snapped it in half. He yelped and went scrambling across the sand. But I got his shirt in my jaws, lifted him, and tossed him out to sea. Bastard.

“Luke!”

Reagan’s cry was desperate and high, slicing through the wind, and I whirled.

Another man had appeared. Dressed in all black and soaked to the bone, he must have come from the ship. He had to be an ex-Navy Seal or some kind of other highly-trained operative. No one else could move with such serious stealth.

He had Reagan clamped in one arm, dragging her easily towards the ocean. A serrated, black-limned knife flashed in his free hand. My eyes zeroed in on it. It looked like the material of the Rotted’s weapons, only fused into something more deadly and dangerous.

Was this how low these bastard Skrors had sunk?

“Stay, dog, or I gut your girl,” the man rasped, and cold eyes met mine.

There was something familiar about him.

Most of his face was covered with black war paint, while a handkerchief covered his lower face. The knife tip angled towards Reagan’s sternum, and she let out an angry hiss. Only Reagan would be furious in this situation. Meanwhile, I was frozen with terror.

“Good dog,” he said and let out an ugly laugh. I frowned, searching my memories. “Don’t worry, angel, we’re going to bring you far away from these abominations.”

“Go to hell,” Reagan snarled.

“I think I’m there.” The man let out a sharp whistle.

“Calling your boys?” I asked in a cold voice, and he whipped back. I’d shifted back and stuck my hands in my pockets. “They’re all out cold in the woods. I’d be happy to make a trade.” I stared at Reagan, willing her to stay calm and quiet. “Otherwise, they might end up as lunch.”

“Swiftlore?”

My blood went cold as the man yanked down his handkerchief, and I stared into the face of a man I’d served with in another lifetime. Billy Sarrow.

I’d been right. Ex-Navy Seal. Last I’d heard, he’d gotten dishonorably discharged.

“You’re a Skror?” I asked, and my fists clenched. “You were once a Navy Seal!”

“And you’re one of them,” he said with quiet disgust. “Shoulda known.”

Sarrow had been barely human when I’d last seen him. Even in boot camp, he’d been prone to anger and off-color comments. At first, he’d seemed no worse than your usual bullheaded recruit. Over time, he’d become a cold man, always after power and money. The Skrors must have offered him what the military couldn’t. A feeding frenzy for a monster.

“Of course, I heard rumors,” Sarrow continued. “Bane’s up here, too, right? And the Deacon boys?” Shit. “What about Llary? You all wind up freaks?”

“Let her go, Sarrow, and you can have your men back,” I said.

Even though it killed me. The hypocrisy of it all—Sarrow calling me a monster. He was a Skror, nothing but a man angry about the world changing without asking him for permission. They took it out on shifters, and now, Winfyre.

“Nah, I don’t make deals with half-breeds,” Sarrow said with a chuckle and looked down at Reagan. “Don’t tell me you spread your legs for this monster.” A cold fury ripped through me as he traced the knife point down her cheek. “I don’t know if I’ll be enough to wipe away the stain, babe.”

“Take me,” I said. Sarrow’s head whipped up, and I sank to my knees, holding up my hands in surrender. “Let her go, and I’ll come.”

“Luke, no,” Reagan choked out. “Don’t listen to him.”

“Can’t get a better bounty than an Alpha wolf,” I said persuasively, heart hammering.

“Alpha?” Sarrow made a wet smacking sound. “But you probably wouldn’t crack—you’ve been trained to withstand torture.” My stomach lurched. “And we need answers about Winfyre.”

Do they know Reagan is under Command’s protection? I wondered. And where the hell is backup? Is anyone coming?

“I won’t tell you a damn thing,” Reagan said, and I saw her eyes blaze with green fury. Around me, I suddenly sensed the night coming alive, and electricity crackled in the air. The storm became wilder, and the waves surged up onto the shore. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Sarrow’s face twisted, and he glanced around. Suddenly, he let out a yelp as a roar echoed through the trees, and I let out a sigh of relief. Backup was finally here.

“What are you?” he asked Reagan.

A rumble met his words, and I looked up to see a mountain lion standing beyond him. A young female with wickedly sharp teeth and bright eyes fixed on him. Wolves appeared next to her, and their hackles were raised.

Wait a second…

“Back off, you nasty abominations, or the girl gets it,” Sarrow snapped.

“They’re not shifters,” Reagan said, and his grip on her slackened. “Nor do they make deals.”

A strange thought hit me. You called, and they came, Reagan.

Taking advantage of Sarrow’s distraction, I burst into movement as the mountain lion rumbled again. Sarrow had let Reagan go. When she saw me coming, she kicked him in the shin, and he yelped, stumbling away.

I hurried as Reagan spun and ran towards me, my breath short as I closed the distance. But my eyes slid beyond her to Sarrow. A snarl split his face, and he threw the black-limned knife.

It spun end over end with fatal precision. The bastard did have good aim.

I moved on instinct, twisting Reagan out of the way, and she went flying into the sand. A hiss of agony escaped me as serrated metal tore through my side.

“No,” Reagan screamed.

Sarrow let out a triumphant yell and ran towards the ocean, the lion snapping at his heels. It turned into a roar of pain as she swiped a big claw across his upper back. But he still threw himself into the water, swearing as he swam.

“Good,” I said and pressed a hand to my side, struggling to stay upright. “Hope it burns, asshole. Stay the hell out of Winfyre!”

Reagan was there a second later, trying to help me, but she sank down to the sand with me. Shifting had taken a toll, and I was experiencing a flare-up. Every muscle locked, and I groaned in agony. More warm blood gushed from under my hand as the rain pelted us.

“Lazu, Ayani, please go get help. And thank you. Especially you, Iza.” Reagan was speaking to the animals, and her breathing was shallow. Was I hallucinating? “Luke, here, let me.”

She’d taken off her long-sleeved shirt, wadded it up, and was now in only a camisole. It stuck to her skin, and I swear the rain glinted on her. I wondered if she’d taste salty or like the rain.

“Probably both,” she murmured. “Move your hand.” She pressed the shirt down on my cut. “Dammit, we need to get you back to Cobalt. Luke, come on, can you walk? Please.”

I was holding myself up with one arm, and that was starting to give out. “Rea, don’t worry about it.” I started to slump, and she caught me, holding me against her. “You go. There’s…”

“Luke, no, come on,” she pleaded as I struggled for breath.

One hand pressed at my side, and the other wrapped around my head. Somehow, I’d managed to rest my head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I rasped. “You’re pretty comfortable, but you should go.”

“I’m not leaving you to bleed out on a beach,” Reagan said.

The pain came and went in waves. Without meaning to, I pressed my face into her neck and inhaled, trying to drive it back during a bad one.

“God, you smell so good.”

“Luke, you have to get up—you have to get back to Cobalt…”

“Sarrow. I can’t believe it was him. Reagan, if they catch you…I never even thought about our enemies using you against us. Against me.” I was getting colder by the second. “I gotta let you go. It’s not safe. I was wrong.”

“I don’t care,” Reagan said fiercely.

“Yeah, well, I do,” I muttered. “I set the terms. I won the wager.”

“Will you stop talking about that stupid wager?” Reagan asked, and her voice took on a hysterical tone. “Just lie quiet and still, let me try and—” Her lips suddenly pressed against my ear. “You are not leaving me. Do you hear me? You’re going to be fine.”

Reagan’s cheek pressed against my temple, and her hand slid down, her arm snug across my shoulders. Warmth followed, and the cold seemed to recoil, as though Reagan had chased it back.

“Sarrow’s got killer aim,” I said dryly, becoming a bit more lucid as sparks of heat spiraled across my skin. “He knew what he was doing.”

“I hope the sharks got him,” Reagan muttered, and I let out a weak laugh. For a moment, there was nothing but the rain, the rasp of her breathing, and the tumult of the ocean. “Wait. Are you telling me that he knew you would—dammit, Luke.”

“A weapon like that would have killed you instantly,” I said thickly. “I knew I had a chance.”

“What does that mean?” Reagan asked, her heart racing under my ear.

“Poison,” I said and tried to smile. “It’s been nice knowin’ you.”