Chapter 113

[ 877 words ]

The police

113: 113.

The police Theo

“So much for regrouping,” I say as I count the hunters moving around inside of Ransom’s house.

The trees at the edge of his backyard gave us cover.

“How many can you sense?” Ransom whispers.

“Three on the first floor, two on the second.”

“Why do they seem like they are waiting?” Sigrid inquires, eyes on Ransom.

“Because they are.

They’re probably waiting for me to go back, get my weapons and other supplies.”

“Do they know about the stolen formulas?”

“No.” He is certain about it, too, based on the look on their face.

“How can you be sure?” Sigrid pressed.

“Because if they did, they’d be ransacking the place.

The only thing they want is Hazel and me.

They know we’d stay together, and I doubt my uncle is too happy about being played.”

“So how do you want to do this?” I ask.

“I say we give them what they want.

I’ll stroll on in like I’m going to get my things while the two of you use your shifter stealth and snatch what we need.”

“I’m not letting you go in there by yourself,” Sigrid says.

Ransom looks at him incredulously.

“ Look, I know you’re crazy as a leader—”

“Alpha,” Sigrid corrects with a hint of a smile.

“Fine, your Alpha sent you with me to be a knight or some shit, but I can assure you I don’t need it.

What I need you to do is go upstairs with Theo, get the things we will need to win this war.”

“Ransom is right.

Making sure they can’t report back what we’re getting is more important,” I say to the scarred male.

He looks like he is struggling with a decision, then he relents.

Ransom explains how to get the formulas and tools he will be bringing back to the mountain.

With that set, Ransom heads for a window, making it look like he is sneaking into his own home while Sigrid and I wait.

It doesn’t take long for the hunters to act.

They swarm him, their words blending together in taunts and yells, but Ransom keeps his tone steady, bored, almost mocking.

They take him to the living room, and the two males from upstairs join the group downstairs.

We wait two heartbeats before going to the house, shifting out our claws and using them to scale up to the bedroom window.

Silently, we inch into the room, moving to the T.V.

area.

Sigrid and I work quickly to move the mantel beneath it, and just like Ransom said there would be, there was a small keyhole.

The sound of a fist slamming into flesh has us pausing.

“Aw, come on, what was I supposed to tell her? No. Have you seen your mother?” Ransom says.

A string of curses before grunts more and strikes.

I can see Sigrid wants to go down there, but I put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Let’s get this done. Then we’ll get him out of here.”

Sigrid’s lips flatten to a frown.

“Help me lift this,” I say, turning the key until I hear a soft click.

The male grunts but takes the left side.

It pulls out into a type of three-compartment shelf, and from the looks of it, it’s been here for a long time.

Lorain must have been the one to build this.

Without a word, Sigrid pulls out a sack from the bottom shelf and starts tossing things inside of it.

There is a crashing sound downstairs, and a shout rises.

“You’re not fucking taking me anywhere,” Ransom shouts.

Bullets sound.

Sigrid moves faster.

So do I.

At least the noise makes it easier for us to move without worry of being heard under the creaking of the old floorboards.

Glass breaks.

Males grunt.

The clatter of a weapon.

Probably the gun.

“Your uncle said we have to bring you back; he never said anything about taking you back whole,” one of the hunters shouts.

Ransom screams, and my wolf lets out a vicious snarl.

I grab the bag full of tools, making my way back to the window, and toss it out on the soft grass.

Sigrid is right behind me.

His wolf flashing in his eyes, he moves like smoke, the bedroom door banging in his wake.

I rush downstairs, shifting as I lunge at the man rolling on the ground in a struggle with Ransom.

My wolf digs his claws into the human’s back, ripping through delicate skin and muscle.

The hunter screams, and we roll off Ransom.

Quickly, my wolf rights himself and goes for the human’s throat.

I pull off the dead hunter, looking around.

There’s a hunter on the floor, neck twisted at an awkward angle.

Another sits, blank eyes staring into nothing with a bullet hole sitting pretty right between his brows.

Sigrid goes to Ransom and hefts him up easily as I shift back.

Ransom puts all his weight on his left leg and grimaces.

“Duane was always an asshole.” He says by way of explanation.

In the distance, I hear sirens.

One of the neighbors must have called the police.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not looking for eight-by-eight vacations. There are extra clothes in the closet behind you.”

Sigrid nods at me and helps Ransom put the backpack on while I quickly toss on some sweats and a shirt and join them.

I hook the bags on my arms, and we power into the woods.

I look ahead at Ransom, and the blood is soaking his pant leg.

We’re going to need to staunch the bleeding.

Let’s just hope there is an exit wound, my wolf says.

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