Page 89 of The Tracker's Secret
Shift?No, that was out of the question. The shooter was too far, and he already had his sights on me.
Shoot back?Red said.
But I didn’t want to kill anyone.
Too bad,she said, taking over. She didn’t have such qualms.
I smiled down at my gun as the heat of anticipation spread through my veins. Maybe I had a death wish, but man it made me feel alive.
I threw all caution to the wind and, spotting a wide gap between two of the wooden crates in my row, I dashed between them and came out shooting on the other side. My vision tunneled, pinning my target. One of my bullets hit the man in the chest, and with a cry of pain, he toppled over the railing and plummeted down.
As he hit the floor with a sickening thud, more shots rang out from the opposite side. I whirled and changed directions. Without missing a beat, I spotted my attacker and got a fix on his location with incredible accuracy. I let loose one single shot, which hit him between the eyebrows.
Dang!
Breathless, I took cover behind one of the crates, and finally dialed the police. As quickly as I could, I gave the dispatcher directions and told him what was going on. He tried to keep me on the line, but I disconnected the call and put my phone away, trying to decide what to do next. My heart thundered against my ribs, knocking so hard I felt it through the Kevlar vest.
I listened for fighting wolves, but I couldn’t hear their snarls anymore.
Was Jake all right?
Blake’s wolf had been massive, at least a head taller than Jake’s.Shit!Why had I listened to Jake? I shouldn’t have left him.
I peered out of my hiding place, determined to go back and help him, but all I managed to do was reveal my position to another guard who started shooting as soon as he saw me. I pulled back behind the safety of the crate. A stream of bullets struck the wood sending splinters, pieces of foam, and glittery powder flying into the air.
Rounding the crate at a crouch, I held my breath and ran, afraid to inhale rhabo as it rained down on me. I came out on the other side, shooting one bullet after the next. One struck the man in the thigh and when he fell, another struck him in the gut. He collapsed to the floor with a scream, then didn’t move again.
Frantically, I turned around, brandishing the gun, looking for someone else to shoot. At first, it seemed no one else would come, but then I heard the clicking of claws against concrete, and Blake’s wolf appeared, his muzzle shining with blood.
I aimed my gun at him. “Where is Jake?” I demanded.
The wolf couldn’t speak, but as his eyes flicked the way he’d come, and his dark lips stretched in a grin, I felt my heart crumble to pieces.
“No,” I shook my head.
Anger tore through my body.
In one swift motion, I raised the gun and squeezed the trigger. There was a click, but I was out of bullets. I quickly released the empty magazine and snatched another one from my belt. The wolf didn’t hesitate and charged in my direction, his huge paws barely touching the floor as he ran.
I glanced up in a panic, and the magazine slipped from my sweaty hand and hit the floor.
Then Blake was on me, his fangs dripping with blood as he angled his jaw toward my throat.
