Cry Wolf (Wolves of Angels Rest #7)(29)

Maddie gave an experimental tug on the second bar they’d installed. “I guess I could remind you that you’re willing to risk your life tomorrow for this. But it’d be her risk, not yours. So you just have to talk to her, find out what she wants, how far she’s willing to go to be with you. You’re supposed to be the sweet-talker in your little trio, aren’t you? At least talking to her you wouldn’t be risking your life.”

“No,” he muttered. “Just everything else.”

Maddie fired up the blow torch again and nodded for him to lift the rocket launcher to the roll bar. Over the roar of the flame, she said, “Once you get all the framework in place, the only thing left will be to pull the trigger.”

And hope it didn’t blow up in his face.



***



Willow had hiked halfway up the hill when she heard the rumble of an engine. Shit, could she run back to the road in time to flag them down?

Then she saw the narrow beam of headlights coming across the plain, parallel to the road. The four-wheeler kicked up a plume of dust paler than the darkness.

She realized with her own flashlight she must’ve been super obvious.

And in hindsight, her hackles prickled.

She checked her phone—still no signal, dammit—and contemplated turning off her light. But it wasn’t like there was any place to hide out here. The tallest dried grasses only came up to her shins.

So when the four-wheeler’s light pinned her, she just shaded her eyes and put on her biggest grin. When the engine revved down, she called, “Heya. I’m so glad to see somebody out here. My van—”

“You are on restricted property,” came the barked reply.

She couldn’t see past the glare of the headlight which was annoying, but she kept her smile in place. “Sorry. I didn’t know. I was trying to get to a high spot to catch a signal.” She raised the phone and gave it a little waggle.

“Hold it right there.”

The note of alarm in the voice froze her. These people—she could just make out two shapes in the front seat—were too on edge considering they were out in the middle of nowhere with nothing much going on.

“I just need a tow truck,” she said soothingly. “There’s something wrong with my van. You can see it by the road. Actually, maybe I’ll just go—” She dropped the hand she’d held up at her brow.

“Eye shine! Eye shine! She’s one of them!”

The snare-sharp burst of gunfire rattled her eardrums, and she flinched back with a startled cry.

“She’s running! She’s gonna change! Get the stunner!”

Hell yeah she was running. She jolted to one side, away from the beam of the four-wheeler’s light. Instinctively her finger flicked off the flashlight. The engine screamed, and wheels rattled in the gravelly dust.

Adding to the chaos, a radio crackle. “Shifter inside the wire,” one of the voices said. “Please advise.”

She’d advise them to leave her the hell alone. Willow ran, the grasses slashing at her legs, the humpy roots threatening to break an ankle with each step.

But these crazed hillbillies were threatening worse.

Shifter inside the wire. What did that even mean?

At the roar of a second engine, her hope for rescue kicked up…and plummeted. Another light was coming across the desert, between her and the road. No way would she make it to the van.

She veered back toward the hills. If it got steep and rocky enough, she might have a chance—

A piercing sting in the back of her shoulder made her gasp, no breath to scream. The motherf*ckers shot her! She clamped her hand over her shoulder and her fingertips brushed something hard sticking from her jacket. Metal grated against bone. They’d shot her with a…dart?

Her slamming pulse faltered, blood turning to icy slush in her veins. She fell to one knee, scraping her palms over coarse pebbles.

If she scratched herself this time, would Diesel kiss it and make it better?

Her thoughts whirled hazily. Where was the river? She needed to jump in and wash away this strange feeling.

She clawed at the dart, yanked it free from the denim and her skin. The light of a four-wheeler swept over her as she thrust herself to her feet.

Another sting in the side of her neck spun her around so she ended up facing her attackers.

“Definitely shifter,” said a voice, much cooler than the others, as cold as her blood. “See the eyes? Not sure why it didn’t change.”

It? Were they talking about…her?

For the first time in her life, she wanted to sneer the infamous, star-studded words “do you know who I am?” But her tongue seemed frozen. She staggered back a step.

“Should we hit it again?”

She held up one hand to stop the assault.

“No. It’s going down.”

As if the words were prophetic, she fell to her knees. And then she was toppling into the sand in what seemed like slow motion, her gaze fixed on the blinding light.

Dark-clad legs cut through the beam like strobe lights, but she couldn’t even blink.

The hollow bore of a rifle jabbed into her shoulder, rolling her to her back. The dart in her neck grated in the muscles, but she couldn’t make a sound.

“Don’t you dare shoot it,” said the calmer voice—as if that was up for debate! “The professor needs a new test subject.”