Page 86 of Bruised MC Bear
14
Sonya
With the receptionwrapped up and the costume party in full swing, I found Angel. I gave her one final hug and let her know that I needed to hit the road. It was close to ten-thirty at night, but I felt strangely alert. Heading to Rock Springs made sense. Within an hour, I had taken a shower, put on some comfy clothes, and packed my things into the rental car. Vincent respected my wishes and left me alone. I had to admit, I felt some remorse that he hadn’t approached me at all during the reception and after party. Getting to know him wasn’t in the cards, but wow, he sure hit the spot earlier today and last night. Another round of cross-species sex wouldn’t have been too bad.
But then again, I was the uptight she-wolf who told him to back off.
Finished with my hotel suite, I slid the key card under Vincent’s door. I made a promise to myself that I would send him a thank-you text. He was instrumental in giving Angel and Axe a perfect wedding experience, so I owed him that much. When the message was all typed out, I caved. Waiting until I got outside city limits was a smarter idea. No use tempting fate.
I took the elevator down to the parking level, and was over fifty feet from my rental car when all the hairs on my back stood on edge. Stopping in my tracks, I sniffed the air.
Shit.
I knew that smell.
The unmistakable odor of aconite—one of the most toxic substances for wolves. Aconite was usually carried around by either witches, wannabe wolf shifter hunters, or anyone who wanted to do damage to my kind. Why the hell were they here? And the scent was coming from somewhere close to my car.
Fuck.
There were at least three human males nearby, and one of them was now tucked away somewhere behind me, probably ready to block my retreat back inside the hotel. They were armed too. My heightened sense of smell picked up the scent of at least two weapons that had recently been discharged.
With silver bullets.
I was furious.
These pricks had kicked off their hunt for supernatural victims hours ago.
They probably saw this rare night as a hunter’s dream, a free-for-all chance to walk the streets and take down anyone they assumed to be nonhuman, right in plain sight. Because it was Halloween, the authorities would have no idea for at least a few hours, when the blood everyone thought was fake turned out to be real, and bodies piled up at the morgue.
And these sons of bitches were looking to make me their next victim.
Well, I was not on the goddamned menu.
I did a quick, mental estimate of the time. It had to be close to midnight, which meant that in another hour, the full moon would pass. Good. If I had to, I would shift to wolf form, fight like hell, and take down as many of them as I could. I was raised to claw and kick and scrap if I had to. Still, the best way out of this was to get back into the hotel. Only one man stood in my way. I was certain I could take him on, but just in case, I needed a weapon. Digging around in my purse would only alert them that I knew they were lying in wait, so I did the next best thing. I shifted only my hands, letting my paws form until the sharp claws extended to full length. If I wanted a snowball’s chance in hell to get inside the hotel without setting off alarm bells among the humans inside, I couldn’t shift anything more than my front paws.
Although … hell, it was Halloween. People would think my paws were part of an elaborate costume. I could probably get away with shifting my head too, come to think of it. I was as ready as I would ever be. Turning on the ball of my canvas sneakers, I walked briskly to the elevator door.
Hunter number one emerged from behind a parked SUV.
“Happy Halloween, little werewolf,” he snickered tauntingly.
Talking at this juncture was unwise. That was his first mistake. It gave me time to assess him head-on, and although his two buddies were starting their approach towards us in the shadows, I had the upper hand. Smartass over here still had his gun holstered, reeked of alcohol, and didn’t get into as simple a defensive position as bending his knees.
I smiled.
He backed up to the door to the elevator bay. “You’re kinda cute. If you weren’t a fur-faced bitch half the time, I’d let you suck my dick.”
Without showing him my claws, I got closer, eyes trained on him and ears focused on the two men closing in behind me. Standing sideways with my leg at shoulder width, I prepared myself to pin his arms behind his back or figure out some other defensive move the instant this standoff turned physical. Something about him made this seem too easy. What game was he playing?
As the question crossed my mind, he lurched forward. Although I got out of his way in time, he was able to nick my arm with something sharp. I cursed under my breath for letting him touch me. The move was clumsy, but I had to hand it to him. The whole alcohol on the breath deal was a ploy to confuse me. He wasn’t drunk at all. I only realized that insight when it was too late.
I looked down my arm and everything tilted. My vision became blurry. A haze clouded my thinking. Aconite. Fear and panic kicked in when I realized this was probably the end for me. I used my full strength, swatting and kicking the man until I made it past him and stumbled through the doors. The dizziness and searing pain eroded my hand-eye coordination. I had to press the elevator call button five times before it lit up. The room spun when I turned to look at the door I’d just entered. Why weren’t they following me?
My last semi-coherent thought was a two-part answer to the question. First, my time was up. Second, a fourth figure appeared from out of thin air. Vincent?
That was when everything went pitch black.
