Page 65 of Midnight Hunt

Smoke filled Sable’s lungs, the fire licking at her fur as she raced past, but she plowed on anyway, determined to get us both to safety. Whiskey pulled ahead at the last second, using his shoulder to ram the door down. It exploded outward in a shower of sparks, fire and smoke chasing after the two wolves as they burst out into the night.

Fresh air bit at Sable’s nostrils, and she coughed to make room in her lungs for it. Before she could take a moment to reorientate herself, a sharpbanglit up the night. Whiskey yanked her sideways just as something whizzed by her ear, clipping the edge. Pain flared from the spot, and she yelped.

At the sound, Whiskey’s eyes went scarily bright. With the glow of the flames striking his face, he looked like a bonafide fire demon from hell. Whirling toward where the shot had been fired from, he bellowed a terrifying roar, then charged like a freight train.

Sable followed his lead, zeroing in on the hunter that had almost shot her. I immediately recognized him as the werewolf who’d thrown a bag over my head and tried to inject me with something. Sable recognized him too, and she released a howl of fury. The male raised his gun again and pointed it at Whiskey, and Sable went feral. Pushing off the ground, she launched herself at him like a missile.

The sight was terrifying enough to make any man pee his pants, human or supernatural. The male startled, and his shot went wide. A second later, Sable was on top of him. He screamed as she sank her razor sharp claws into him and knocked the gun from his hands. He immediately put up a fight, but even though he was a dominant male, his strength was no match for my demon wolf. She immobilized him within seconds, leaving him to face a seething Whiskey.

Griff’s familiar towered over the male, staring down at him with a creepy as hell grin.

The male began to tremble in Sable’s arms, but he glared up at Whiskey and said, “You can’t stop us. We’re going to take her, and when we do—”

Whiskey grabbed the male’s head and ripped it off in one swift move. As blood sprayed over his chest, he tossed the head aside and growled, “One down, four to go.”

Another shot fired, and he ducked, but not fast enough. He grunted as the slug hit him in the back. Sable dropped the decapitated body with a cry. Before she could help Whiskey, more shots fired. The bullets pelted into the earth and trees surrounding them, one slicing into Sable’s arm as it whizzed past. The burn was painful enough that I instantly knew the bullets were silver.

Whiskey roared again, shielding her from the chaotic volley as best he could, but the shots came fromeverywhere.

We were surrounded.

If enough silver hit us, Whiskey and Sable’s superior strength would weaken. The hunters would overpower us.Separateus. And the thought of them killing Griff to get to me terrified me so much that my fight instincts switched off.

We have to run!I screamed at Sable.

She froze, torn between obeying and seeking vengeance on the hunters. I tried to wrestle control from her, but that only made her lose focus. She barked in pain as another bullet clipped her, and Whiskey officially lost it. Throwing his head back, he bellowed at the night sky, then charged at the nearest hunter.

No!I wailed, watching in horror as another hunter shot at Whiskey and hit him in the side. He stumbled, and that was all it took. Bullets rained on him, hitting him over and over and over, dragging him to the ground.

Sable cried out and moved toward him, but one of the hunters shot at her feet, warning her back. She looked up at the male, and my insides turned to ice. It was the Russian-looking hitman, the werewolf who’d followed me from the football stadium. Sable bared her dagger-like fangs at him, and he pointed his gun higher, directly at her heart.

Stand down, I ordered her, sensing how close she was to charging him. She wouldn’t make it. A silver bullet to the heart was almost always fatal.

Realizing she’d lost the fight, Sable tipped back her dark head and released a mournful howl. Almost immediately, a howl answered her back. Then another.

Sudden hope surged through us both. Werecognizedthose howls.

The hunters froze with indecision, and I watched with glee as their faces paled. Above the sound of crackling flames, a new noise could be heard, growing louder and louder by the second.

Somethinghugewas crashing through the trees. Make thattwohuge somethings.

The hunters listened for a moment more; then Hitman lowered his weapon and bellowed, “Retreat!”

Too late.

A dark demon wolf and a pitch black one burst from the woods and collided with two hunters. Screams sounded and shots misfired, but the hunters met a grisly end within seconds. Seeing her chance, Sable lunged for Hitman. Before she could reach him, the only other surviving hunter stepped into her path, his gun trained on the new arrivals.

With a savage snarl, she swept a clawed hand out and tore his arm clean off. As the gun fell harmlessly to the ground, along with the severed appendage, the male let out a bloodcurdling scream. Sable clamped her jaws around his neck and silenced him a second later, shaking him like a ragdoll several times before letting go. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious but still alive.

She opened her maw again to finish him, but I quickly stopped her.Don’t. We should keep him alive for questioning.

She growled her disappointment but didn’t argue with me. Lifting her head, she sought out Hitman again, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Coward!” she roared, raising her nose to track his scent. The sound of breaking bones distracted her, and she turned to see Whiskey halfway through the shift.

Give me back control, I immediately demanded, all thoughts of tracking down Hitman disappearing the moment I caught sight of Griff.

But, Sable started with a whine, bloodlust still pumping hotly through her veins.

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