Hungry Like the Wolf(76)

Suddenly remembering the pistol in her hand, Mac aimed it at the man and squeezed the trigger, praying she shot him and not Gage. The bullet hit the man in the leg, and he made a strangled sound, relaxing his grip on his weapon.

Gage let out a growl, then lifted the man off the ground and flung him into the air. Mac cringed as he smashed into the burning barn to be consumed by the flames. She didn’t realize she’d made a sound until Gage spun around to face her.

Mac gasped. At first she thought the smoke from the fire was still affecting her, or that shock was making her too dizzy to see straight. Because what she saw couldn’t be real.

Gage’s shoulders were broader; his brow heavier and more furrowed; his hair longer; his stubble thicker; his ears slightly pointed at the tips; his jaw wider; his canine teeth now long, dangerous-looking fangs; and his eyes no longer a soulful brown, but a deep yellow-gold so bright they almost glowed. And on each hand, his nails had turned into wickedly sharp claws.

She was so focused on Gage, she completely forgot about the man with the leg wound until Gage growled and leaped fifteen feet to land behind the guy. The man grabbed the machine gun on the ground and rolled over to shoot, but Gage caught the weapon and ripped it out of his hands. He punched the guy in the face—hard.

That was it—one punch and it was over. But Gage still picked him up and slung him at least ten feet through the air to land in a crumpled heap near the entrance of the burning barn with his companions.

Gage turned to her, his body tense, his eyes on fire, and his lips pulled back in an angry snarl. Mac took a step back, her hands bringing up the pistol before she even realized what she was doing. That was when she noticed she was holding the camera, too. She was a journalist. Catching action on film was second nature to her—she did it without thinking.

When Gage stepped closer, she stepped back. He stopped and raised his hands in a silent gesture. He locked eyes with hers, and despite how afraid she was, the sadness there made her heart squeeze in her chest.

Mac shoved the camera in her rear pocket so she could use two hands to steady the gun. She wanted to think Gage wouldn’t hurt her, but she didn’t even know if the thing in front of her was Gage anymore.

“What are you?” she asked.

As she watched, the monster in front of her slowly shifted back into the form of the man she knew—or thought she knew. But the four dead bodies made it impossible to forget what she’d seen.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Gage said quietly. “And I’m sorry I scared you.”

The hurt in his eyes tore at her, but she refused to give in to it. “Answer my question. What are you?”

The muscle in Gage’s jaw ticked. “I’m a werewolf.”

A werewolf?

It was insane.

And if she hadn’t seen the sharp claws and wicked fangs with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it.

But she had seen them, and every suspicious thing she’d had no explanation for now made perfect sense—the feeling that Gage and the rest of his SWAT team were hiding something, the fact that they didn’t use their night vision goggles during their missions, the lack of concern over Martinez’s injury.

She looked at Gage’s shoulder. The gunshot wound that had been bleeding freely just a few minutes ago in the barn was now miraculously healed.

She thought back to how the SWAT team had reacted at the restaurant when Hardy’s men had come in, how hard they trained, how they’d survived a freaking house collapsing on them. And finally, she remembered the wolf-head tattoo that every member of the team wore.

She lowered the gun. “You’re all werewolves, aren’t you? The whole SWAT team?”

Gage’s eyes widened in alarm. “I know what you’re thinking, Mackenzie, but you can’t tell anyone.”

Was he kidding? This was huge, bigger than huge—the biggest story she’d ever stumbled on. Werewolves were real and she’d captured one on camera.

She took a deep breath. Crap. Werewolves were real, and a whole…pack…of them were employed by the city of Dallas. Did the chief of police know? What about the mayor? Were they werewolves, too?

How was any of this possible?

There was so much she wanted to know. Like who’d turned Gage into a werewolf and whether he’d turned all the other men in the unit.

But she couldn’t ask any of those questions yet. “The public has a right to know the truth.”

The worried look disappeared, replaced by one of irritation. Gage snatched the gun out of her hand and shoved it back in his ankle holster.

“Damn it, Mackenzie, this isn’t a game.”

What the hell did he have to be angry about? He was the one who’d lied to her.