The Wolf Within (Purgatory #1)(32)

So she crept toward that room. Her palms were sweating when she opened the doorknob. The door slid open. A fluorescent bulb flickered overhead. A woman was on a table, her blonde hair trailing around the table’s edge. A man bent over her. His teeth were at her throat.

But he stiffened even as the door creaked open. His head lifted. His eyes—bright, glowing gold—met Holly’s.

“Well, hello, there.” He inhaled deeply and shoved away from the table. “Aren’t you something…sweet.”

Oh, shit. Was that the pick-up line that all the werewolves were going to use? As soon as she was back in her lab, she’d have to find a way to combat that scent.

He stalked toward her. He was big, as tall as Duncan, but with shoulders not quite as wide. His teeth were sharp, and the guy’s claws were definitely out.

“Harold said he’d be sending me some treats, but I had no idea…” he inhaled again, seeming to draw her scent fully into his lungs, “that a vampire was on the menu.”

“I’m not,” she gritted. Then, because she wasn’t an idiot who’d come into this battle unprepared, Holly yanked out the gun that she’d tucked into the back of her shirt. A gun that Pate had given to her before she’d left her apartment. The gun wouldn’t be loaded with wooden bullets—Pate would never risk giving her a weapon that could be used against her. Instead, she knew it would be packing silver.

The werewolf was just a few feet away from her now. No chance that’s she’d miss this shot. “Freeze,” she told him. Technically, she didn’t have a badge because she was the doctor on the team, not an FBI agent, but the wolf didn’t know that. “Don’t take another step,” Holly ordered, “because you’re under arrest.”

He laughed at her. Laughed. Figured. Then he lunged toward her.

Holly’s finger squeezed the trigger as she fired.





Chapter Seven


When he heard the blast of gunfire, Duncan jumped away from the bar. The patrons had frozen, and that gave him the perfect chance to rush right through the crowd.

Unfortunately, the werewolves at the door hadn’t frozen. They’d ripped open that door and were already vanishing down the stairs by the time Duncan made it across the bar. He followed the sound of their thudding footsteps.

Then he heard another shot.

Holly.

He jumped over ten steps and landed on the bottom floor in a low crouch. The werewolves that he’d followed spun to face him. Duncan bared his teeth. They weren’t getting in his way. No one and nothing would stop him from reaching Holly. The werewolves ran at him, attacking in unison.

Since they were attacking that way, so would he. He swiped out with the claws of his right hand and the claws of his left—catching both of those bastards with his attack. Blood flowed. They howled, then they hit the floor.

He kept running, heart pounding, as he tracked the sound of that gunfire. The rooms were dim, lit only with candlelight, but he didn’t care. He could see perfectly.

He could sure as hell see Saul, standing frozen in the middle of the next room, with eyes wide and fangs glinting.

Duncan lifted his claws, more than ready to rip and tear again—

“Don’t!” Saul yelled. “I’m not a f*ckin’ threat!”

The guy had fangs and claws. Like he’d buy that Saul wasn’t about to attack him.

“Your vamp bitch…” Saul gritted out the words, but didn’t so much as take a step forward. “She froze me.”

Duncan didn’t know if the guy was lying or not, so to make absolutely sure that Saul wasn’t gonna be an issue, Duncan slammed his fist into the guy’s jaw as hard as he could. Saul’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he hit the floor.

Duncan could hear the pounding of footsteps overhead. Humans, fleeing, but also…steps coming toward the basement room. Backup? If so, the agents needed to run faster.

He raced toward the room down the hallway. There were no more shots, but that didn’t matter. Now he could smell Holly’s scent, and he knew exactly where she’d be. Hold on, Holly, I’m coming, hold on.

He knocked the door down. Went in with his claws out and a snarl on his lips.

Duncan saw a man on the floor. A man with dark hair and heaving shoulders. The guy’s own claws appeared to be buried in his chest. Blood soaked the front of the man’s shirt.

“I got him,” Holly whispered.

Duncan’s gaze snapped over to her. She stood to the left, about five feet away from the crouching man. She still had her weapon pointed at the guy.

Duncan hurried to her side. “Are you all right?” She didn’t seem to be injured but—

The man’s laughter stopped him. Chilled him. Because the laughter was cold, haunting, and strangely…familiar.

Duncan glanced back at him. The man’s dark head lifted, and his glowing, golden eyes met Duncan’s.

The werewolf’s smile widened. “Hello, brother.”

Duncan stiffened. “I’m not your brother.”

Smoke was rising from the werewolf’s chest. Now he realized why the guy’s claws were in his chest. Holly had been the one shooting, and she’d fired the silver right into the werewolf. Now the fellow was trying to dig the silver out, with his claws.

The werewolf’s head cocked to the right. His gaze swept over Duncan.