In the Company of Wolves (SWAT, #3)(73)

As tightly packed in the small barn as they were, the men still kept shooting. He ignored the stabs of pain as one bullet after another tore into him. He pushed the pain down deeper, thought about Jayna, and kept fighting, ripping out a throat here, breaking an arm or leg there. He even grabbed one of the men and tossed him into a stall with one of the fear-maddened horses, smiling to himself as the horse stomped the man to death.

Becker wasn’t sure how long the fight took—everything blurred together—but at some point, he realized there weren’t any more men to fight. And that he was bleeding a lot.

He dropped to his knees as a wave of weakness hit him and his broken leg gave out. Oh shit. He hadn’t been hit in the heart, but it really felt like he was on the verge of bleeding out.

A sharp sound made his head snap up and he saw Kostandin leaning against the wall just inside the doorway, clapping his hands.

“That was impressive, Eric,” Kos said. “I don’t believe any of those omegas that Liam brought in, or even Liam himself, could have done that. It’s a pity you had to be a cop. You could have been very useful to me.”

Becker slowly pushed himself to his feet. He was unsteady as hell, but this wasn’t over. Kostandin had to die, or the Albanian would hunt down Jayna and her pack purely out of revenge.

Kos regarded the forty-five in his hand, tossing it aside with a shrug. Then he reached behind his back and pulled out that big-ass knife he always carried. He held it so the blade caught the light, giving Becker a wicked smile. “Shooting you would be too easy. This is way more satisfying, for me at least.”

Becker growled low in his throat and started forward, but the sound of voices outside the barn froze him in his tracks. It was Jayna. He’d thought she and her pack would already be far away from here. What was she doing outside the barn? Then he heard Liam saying he was going to shoot her and Megan.

Like hell.

Becker roared and lunged at Kos. The impact hurt so badly, Becker’s vision went dark for a moment. But he fought off the wave of unconsciousness that threatened him and focused on finishing off Kostandin.

That wasn’t nearly as easy as it should have been. If he hadn’t been so beat up, it wouldn’t even have been close, despite how big and muscular the Albanian was. But in Becker’s current condition, Kos was on equal footing with him.

Becker caught Kostandin’s right wrist just as the wickedly sharp knife came at his chest. At the same time, Kos grabbed Becker’s right wrist, fighting to keep his claws away from his throat. Becker tried to bring his right knee up into Kostandin’s balls, but the broken leg refused to cooperate, turning what he had hoped would be a vicious strike into barely more than a stumble.

Kos took advantage of Becker’s poor balance and slammed him into the wall of the barn so hard Becker heard the wood crack—at least he hoped it was the wood. Either way, another wave of blackness rushed over him as his head bounced off the wall like a Ping-Pong ball.

Fuck. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to get out there and help Jayna and Megan.

But worrying about them came close to getting Becker killed as Kos yanked him away from the wall, bringing his head forward at the same time to head-butt him. Becker felt the bones of his nose crunch as blood went everywhere.

The big Albanian laughed. “You’re barely making this worth my while. But I guess it’s like I told you when we first met: for all your werewolf strength and speed, a knife through the heart will kill you as quickly as it would any man.”

Mouth twisting into a smug smile, Kostandin drew back his knife hand to stab Becker through the heart.

Becker didn’t try to grab Kostandin’s hand this time, but instead only blocked it partially. While he spared himself a thrust through the heart, he left a good portion of the left side of his chest unprotected. Kos took the bait, driving the blade into his left pec up to the hilt.

As incredibly painful as it was, it left the Albanian completely unprepared for a counterstrike. With a snarl, Becker grabbed a handful of Kostandin’s hair and jerked his head to the side, sinking his fangs into the Albanian’s exposed neck. He bit down hard, then violently twisted his jaws back and forth as he pulled away.

“And like I told you when we first met,” Becker rasped. “It’s tougher to knife a man knowing that if you miss, he’s going to rip out your frigging throat.”

He tossed Kostandin’s body aside and ran for the door. God, please let him be in time.

*

Jayna knew she couldn’t get to Megan in time, but she reached deep inside herself for every ounce of strength and speed she possessed anyway. If Eric was right and she really was an alpha, now was the time for those abilities to make their presence known.

And it happened.

Her legs practically hummed with power, propelling her forward faster than she’d ever moved. Her claws extended farther too, ready to tear Liam apart.

Then a roar sounded from her left, so loud and filled with rage it was impossible not to glance over to see what it was. She was shocked to see Eric racing out of the barn so fast he was nothing but a blur. But he was even farther away from Megan than she was.

Jayna turned back to see she wasn’t the only one who was distracted. Liam was staring at Eric with fear unlike anything she’d ever seen in his eyes.

Megan, on the other hand, was looking directly at her with eyes that were clear and bright and full of emotion. Nodding ever so slightly, Megan drove her elbow into Liam’s chest.