In the Company of Wolves(79)

He tried not to listen as his beautiful, not-even-paid-off-yet bike hit the asphalt hard and was promptly run over by the second Escalade. But it was impossible to ignore the fact that these assholes had just destroyed a frigging work of art.

Becker shifted, cutting loose a growl and climbing the hood, his hands punching through the thin steel with every lunge forward. The guy in the backseat was trying to lean far enough out the window to get a shot at him, but the driver was swerving around so much that he couldn’t get a clear pop at him. The same went for the guy in the passenger seat with the handgun. All he was able to do was hold the semiautomatic pistol blindly out the passenger window and shoot in Becker’s general direction. A few rounds nicked him, but nothing that caused any serious damage. Having a partially shifted werewolf on the hood of his vehicle probably had something to do with his poor marksmanship.

As an added bonus, the driver’s wild attempts at slinging him off were also keeping the second Escalade from passing, so Becker only had one vehicle to worry about.

The gunner in the backseat finally said the hell with it and tried to shoot him through the windshield. All the guy accomplished was pelting the driver with brass cartridge cases and getting the windshield out of Becker’s way. The driver freaked out and almost lost control of the car when Becker reached through the shattered window and ripped the guy with the handgun out of the passenger seat and tossed him aside…where he was run over by the second SUV. Somewhere, the soul of Becker’s Harley was growling its approval.

The move didn’t come without a price though. The guy in the backseat shot him through the same damn shoulder he’d been hit in a couple days ago. Damn. It hurt like a son of a bitch. Ignoring the pain, he crawled into the passenger seat to yank the gun out of the guy’s hand, then grabbed the asshole’s arm and dragged him out too.

The driver kept yanking the steering wheel from side to side right up until the moment Becker ripped out his throat. Unfortunately, the dead man’s foot wedged against the gas pedal, and instead of slowing down, the Escalade raced forward.

Becker swore and reached in to grab the wheel. He got the car going in a straight line, but it was still gaining speed. He needed to get the damn driver out of the way.

Thankfully, the driver hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, so Becker just had to shove the guy out the door, then climb into the driver’s seat.

Once he got control of the vehicle, he jerked into the left-hand lane, then immediately slammed on the brake, forcing the other SUV to swerve to the right. The moment that Escalade was even with him, he yanked the wheel to the right and smashed into it, causing it to hit the metal guardrail and slide along the barrier for a few feet, then crash through it and flip a few times before coming to a halt.

Becker slammed on the brakes, screeching to a loud, tire-squawking stop. He was out of the car before it stopped rocking. Jumping the guardrail, he ran to the other SUV. He wanted nothing more than to kill every last son of a bitch in there, but he controlled his rage. There might be more going on than just an attack on the SWAT officer who had taken down their crime family. If there was, he needed to know about it.

The Albanian who’d been driving was already dead, but the other one had gotten out and was dragging himself toward the tree line a good twenty feet away. When he realized Becker was following him, he rolled over onto his back and took a shot at him. Becker avoided the gunfire, then lunged forward and ripped the gun out of the man’s hands.

Becker grabbed the Albanian’s shirt and yanked him off the ground with a snarl. “I’m guessing Kostandin sent you, so you have one chance to tell me where he is.”

The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Kostandin had us watching the SWAT compound, waiting for you to come back. He told us to follow and kill you, no matter what we had to do. The rest of us wanted to get the hell out of Dallas, but Kos said we had things to take care of before we left.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” Becker bared his fangs, making sure the Albanian got a good look at them. “Where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know!” The guy swallowed hard. “He and Liam said they were going to some farm near here, that he was going to kill every one of those werewolves who betrayed them. That’s all I know. Please don’t kill me!”

Becker dropped the Albanian to the ground with a growl. As much as he hated to let the guy go, Becker wasn’t a cold-blooded killer, and he didn’t have time to mess with him.

He jumped over the guardrail and ran to the Escalade with the shattered front window. He knocked the remaining pieces of glass out of his way before climbing in and speeding toward the Stones’ house.