“Not yet,” the female snapped as she shut the door. “She’s our only bargaining chip for Stanley…” Her voice grew fainter as she left, but Margery couldn’t even hear them walking away.
She also hadn’t heard them approach. Either she was weaker than she thought or they’d used their vampiric gift of speed to sneak up on the door—or they hadn’t left at all. Maybe they were just waiting to see if she’d been faking being asleep.
Margery remained unmoving for long minutes and when no other sounds came, she took a risk and stood up on shaky legs. When the trapdoor didn’t fly open, she tugged on the chain with her paw. It scraped against the ground noisily.
Automatically she tensed, but the door remained shut.
The silver kept burning her insides in a way that was nearly indescribable other than pure pain, but she was becoming more lucid, stronger. Her legs and paws were thicker than when in human form so she knew her only chance of escape was to shift forms.
Taking a deep breath, she fought through the pain of the poison in her system and forced herself to undergo the change. A different kind of pain, more discomfort than anything, rippled through her as skin replaced fur and her bones shifted and realigned.
In moments she was human again, crouching on the dusty ground on all fours. But she smiled when the shackle slid off her slim wrist. Hell yeah.
Now all she had to do was get out of this prison. As she stood, she felt more of her strength returning thanks to the change back from wolf to human. And the pain from the silver was more of a dull throb affecting her muscles now. Still incredibly uncomfortable, but she could deal with that. Discomfort was better than death.
At over two hundred years old she was strong. Clearly more so than those vampires had realized. They had to be young.
On bare feet she started climbing the wooden rungs, careful on each step. She might be regaining her strength but she was unsteady. Still no sounds from above. As she reached the trapdoor, she tentatively pressed her palm against it.
It pushed up half an inch then stopped. A chain rattled against the door. With the slight opening she could see the end of it bolted to a concrete slab. Taking a deep breath, she called on all her strength and shoved up against the door.
She felt the force of the impact all the way to her bones. The door snapped up, pulling the chain free from the ground as it flipped open. Because of the awkward angle she lost her balance and started to fall. Scrambling, she tried to grab the ladder but her reflexes were too sluggish after that use of her waning strength.
She bit back a cry of pain as she slammed back to the ground. No sound from above. No once coming after her.
Shoving up, she started climbing the ladder again. Nothing was keeping her from getting out of here.
Rex rolled under the SUV, using his vehicle as cover from his attacker—or attackers. From this angle someone would have to get up close and personal if they wanted to shoot at him again. He almost hoped they did.
Amped up on adrenaline with the need to save Margery, he welcomed anyone trying to attack.
He ignored the sharp ping near the front left tire as he pulled out a small block of C-4. He didn’t want to destroy his own SUV but he needed the diversion. Hell, he’d incinerate everything he had to get Margery back safe.
C-4 was his favorite explosive. It was stable and malleable. A perfect combination. Laying on his back, he set it on his chest and worked fast, thankful for his supernatural speed as he rigged the explosive to the underside of the gas tank in seconds. With quick fingers he slid two blasting caps into it before rolling out the other side of the SUV.
On a burst of speed, he sprinted away from the rambling house and into the pecan orchard. As he cleared the first tree, he pressed the pre-set code into his burner phone, setting the explosion off.
He’d moved deep into the orchard by the time the fiery ball of smoke and flames licked into the sky. Well out of the blast zone, he couldn’t even feel the heat as he slowed in between two big trees. Using the darkness and orchard as cover, he crouched low, inhaling deeply.
Shifters.
He scented at least a dozen wolf shifters in the vicinity. And if he could, that meant the other vamp, or vamps, could too. Panic surged through him. If they smelled backup, Margery could be hurt or worse. He had to get to her.
Not caring if he was running into a trap, he scanned the area once more before drawing on all his strength and sprinting back through the orchard toward the house. As he neared the fence the wind changed and that subtle lavender scent of Margery rolled over him.
It didn’t matter how faint, he knew it was her and just inhaling it was like a punch to his senses, amplifying his protective instincts. Changing directions, he bypassed the house and raced for the barn. Even though he moved at such high speeds that humans couldn’t track him with the naked eye, a vamp would be able to pinpoint him and possibly attack.