Page 76 of Don't Bait Me (Nora Jacobs 3)

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know, silver?”

“I don’t have any silver.”

Rook snarls again and leaps at the father. The man scrambles back, falls to the ground, and Rook is on him. Rook goes for the man’s throat, but he protects himself and Rook sinks his fangs into the man’s forearm. The man screams in pain. “Shoot it!” he cries.

The son pulls out a large handgun and shoots round after round into Rook. Rook leaps at the guy but collapses to the ground before he can reach him. The man shoots him a few more times, until Rook grows still. Blood starts pooling all around him.

The son finally stops shooting and rakes a hand through his hair. “A werewolf. An actual werewolf. What the hell!”

The dad scrambles to his feet, clutching his mangled arm to his chest. “We suspected last night. Now we know. Alive would have been better, but confirmation is better than nothing.”

“We can still grab the other one for questioning, if we hurry.”

“You have your tear gas? We need a real distraction. We got lucky the female started fighting with that guy at the bar and distracted everyone, but they’re on to us now.”

The son pulls two canisters from a utility belt. He and his father both put on gas masks. The Dad nods to his son, opens the emergency door, and the son rushes in. The vision ends with the door slamming shut.

I blink myself from the vision, ignoring the headache and wave of nausea that came with it. “Oliver!” I shout over the com. When I get no response, I panic. “I’m not the target! They’re after Oliver! Who has eyes on Oliver?”

I barely hear Parker’s response as I press my hands to the wounds in Rook’s chest. I have to tell myself he’ll be fine. I can’t think otherwise. If the bullets were silver, he’d probably be dead. But without silver, it takes a lot to actually kill a werewolf. “You’ll be fine,” I murmur, trying to stanch the wound that’s bleeding the most. “We’ll get you help in a few minutes. You’re going to be just fine.”

Rook’s whining, as if he’s in a lot of pain. I don’t even want to know how many times he was shot. I try to keep my voice calm for his sake as I listen to the chaos over the com.

“I found him!” Parker shouts. “Two men are dragging him down an employee hallway. They’re headed for an emergency exit on the east side of the building. He looks unconscious. I’m the closest. I’ll go.”

“I am outside on the east side of the building,” Illren says. “I see the emergency door. I will handle them as soon as they come outside.”

Illren’s the only one of us that sounds even remotely calm. Nick sounds pretty cool under pressure, too, when he says, “I’ll meet you there. I’m not too far from you.

I don’t want to distract them, but I can’t help myself. “Nick, how’s Terrance? What happened?”

“He’s sore, but he’ll live. It was a grenade. He got pinned between two cars. Crushed one of his legs, but it’s nothing Enzo can’t heal. He’ll be fine.”

I swallow down bile. Nick considers a crushed leg and being pinned between two cars from a grenade blastokay?I suppose, for a troll.

Rook presses his nose into my hand as if to reassure me that everything will be fine. I rub his muzzle and sniffle a little. “This is all my fault.”

Rook tries to growl but can’t quite manage it.

Over the com, there’s some shouting and a couple of gunshots, and then silence. Seconds later, Illren’s quiet voice says, “Both men are dead. I’ve got Oliver. Everyone back to the security office.”

“I’ll need help with Rook. I can’t carry him, and he’s in no shape to walk.”

“Let me just help Terrance to the security office,” Nick says, “and then I’ll come to you.”

I take a deep breath, and then dread washes over me. My premonition comes out of nowhere and hits me as hard as it had in Skinny’s. I buckle over with a gasp.

“I’ve found the female,” a harsh, feminine voice says. “Taking care of her now.”

I whirl around to find a gun pointed in my direction. I jump to my feet and push the gun away from me just as it goes off. My ear rings with how close it was. I try to knock the gun free from the woman’s hands, but her grip is too tight and we end up wrestling for it. “Guys, help. I’ve found the third hunter.” I grunt as I continue to try and hold the gun away from me. The woman fighting me has obviously been trained in hand-to-hand fighting for years, and she’s a lot stronger than me.

“We’re already on our way,” Nick promises. He’s breathing heavily, as if he’s running.

The woman shrieks in frustration and shouts, “Why won’t you just die!”

My arms are getting tired. I’m not going to be able to hold her off much longer. I try to focus and think back to my sessions with Rook. What would he tell me to do in this situation?

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