Page 84 of The Tracker's Revenge
When we were halfway up the slope, she ran out of bullets, but quickly popped another magazine in, and it was Christmas time all over again.
I dared a quick glance over my shoulder and found that one of the hybrids was down on the ground, a bullet between the eyes. The other one, however, had just reached the bottom of the slope despite all his bleeding wounds.
Suddenly, the spray of bullets came to an abrupt stop. Rosalina struggled with a new magazine, baring her teeth as she tried to load it.
“Dammit, something’s stuck.” She threw the weapon to the ground and ran toward my Camaro.
Jake, Eric, and I redoubled our efforts and finally reached the top of the hill.
Rosalina jumped into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life and tires screeched on the asphalt as she backed up in our direction, turned the car around in one smooth maneuver, and came to a stop next to us. Reaching across, she threw the passenger door open.
“Get in! Get in!”
Eric and I helped Jake into the back seat. I jumped in after him—we were packed like sardines—then Eric pushed the seat back, got in, and slammed the door shut.
“Step on it!” he said.
Rubber melted against the blacktop as the tires spun. The big hybrid had reached the top of the slope. Limping and slick with blood, he ran toward us in his unrelenting pursuit and obedience to his master’s orders.
But we were off, Rosalina flooring the gas pedal, the beast growing smaller and smaller in the back window, and my heart quieting down for the first time since Jake was taken.
I laid my head on top of his as his irregular breaths slowed and his wounds healed.
Chapter 28
We rode in silence, not a word passing between us. Rosalina stared straight ahead, her hands firmly on the wheel at ten and two o’clock. By the time we got to Eric’s house, Jake had healed and was sitting up, still in his wolf form, looking out the window.
As soon as we slipped into the garage, Eric hopped out of the car saying, “We can’t stay here. We have to go. Grab whatever you need and let’s get out of here.”
“Where are we going to go?” Rosalina asked, meeting him outside the car.
“I have a hideout that no one knows about. This house is pretty safe, but everyone knows where I live. Whatever truce was between us, it’s over. We need to hide.”
I knew he was right, but I hated the idea. I exchanged a heavy glance with Rosalina. Fugitives didn’t keep businesses afloat, did they? Still, when this was all over and if we survived, we would need our jobs.
I hopped out of the car.“Can we swing by the agency?”I asked through my alpha mind.“There’s something I need to pick up.”
