In the Company of Wolves(78)

Jayna could only stare at her friend in awe. “When did you become so smart?”

Megan laughed. “I’m no smarter than I ever was. I’m just bright enough to know something good when I see it. The question is—do you?”

For once, Jayna decided not to overthink a simple question. She was just going to say what her heart told her to say.

But before she could, a sound from outside caught her attention. The horses were stirring in their stalls and neighing, like they had when they’d first gotten a whiff of her and her pack of werewolves. She glanced at the doorway to the kitchen, checking to see if the guys had gone out to the barn again. After Moe, Joseph, and Chris had spent most of the afternoon in there helping Ethan, she didn’t think the horses would still be afraid, but it was possible. All three guys were in the kitchen though, helping make dinner and laughing at some joke Ethan had just told them.

She headed for the kitchen before she even realized what she was doing.

“Jayna, what’s wrong?” Megan asked.

She didn’t know what was wrong. Something just…was.

Then, a scent she never thought she’d smell again hit her.

Crap.

Jayna ran the last few steps into the spacious country kitchen. “Ethan, do you keep a gun in the house?”

Everyone turned to look at her in confusion. She opened her mouth to ask again when the back door suddenly burst open. She whirled around with a growl to see Liam come sauntering in. He was followed by Kostandin and a whole bunch of nasty Albanians. They were all carrying weapons.

Liam didn’t say a word as he aimed his pistol at her chest and squeezed the trigger.





Chapter 15


Becker twisted the gas on the big Harley and it surged forward, but it didn’t help. The two trucks behind him were moving too fast. They were going to hit him.

He swerved to the side, avoiding one SUV a fraction of a second before it could smash into his rear tire. The violent maneuver almost put him and his bike on the pavement, but he got control of it just as the vehicle sped past him. He turned to shout at the idiots, but his words froze as he recognized the driver. It was one of the Albanians. He should have figured it out sooner, since both the cars were big, black Escalades.

He was still trying to wrap his head around that when he was forced to slam on his rear brakes and swerve sideways again to avoid creaming into the rear bumper of the Escalade that had just zipped past him and slowed down.

The second car quickly moved in behind him. Becker didn’t have to look to know it was another one of Kostandin’s crew. If they slammed into his rear wheel, he was toast. Even a minor thump at this speed would send him flying and almost certainly get him run over. He wasn’t sure even an alpha werewolf could live through something like that.

He darted a quick glance to the side, praying he could get off the main road before some unsuspecting driver came along and got in the middle of this mess. But that wasn’t an option. The edge of the road along this stretch of highway was lined with barricades and steel guardrails. Slamming into those would be as bad as getting hit by one of the SUVs trying to run him down.

The vehicle in front slowed down even more, making it easier for his buddy to get Becker from behind. Becker slammed his right foot down on his rear brake pedal again, putting the bike into a sideways slide, then let up on the brake and gunned it, slipping around the left side of the Escalade by mere inches. He would have been home free if the Albanian in the backseat hadn’t leaned out the window and started shooting at him with one of those MP5 automatics the mobsters seemed to love so much.

Becker veered to the left but couldn’t go far because of the guardrail. Most of the spray of bullets missed him, but one 9mm round hit him in the thigh and another clanked into something important-sounding on the bike. Blood ran down his leg at the same time his bike made a grinding sound and began losing speed. He twisted the accelerator as far as it would go. Nothing happened. So much for getting past the front car.

One look in the rearview mirror told him he was doubly screwed. And with the second SUV coming right up behind him, he couldn’t drop back, either. He was completely boxed in with the first SUV on his left, the guardrail on his right, and the second truck behind him. On top of that, his bike wasn’t running well enough for him to get ahead.

The driver of the first Escalade must have realized that at the same time because he immediately jerked the car to the left. Becker would either get crushed against the guardrail, or the jackass with the MP5 was going to get close enough to put a lucky shot through his head.

Becker decided to go for option three. He yanked the handlebars to the right, slamming into the side of the SUV. Before he could lose control of the bike, he was up and leaping off it, landing on the hood of the Escalade. His move caught the driver completely by surprise, giving Becker enough time to punch his clawed hand through the hood and get a grip on something before the stunned driver could recover and try to toss him off.