Running with the Pack: Cannon Pack, Book 3 (22 page)

“Are you sure? But how do you know?” She’d seen the werewolf, seen Torrie react to getting shot.

“You’re still a newbie, aren’t you? Even after everything I’ve tried to teach you.” He snorted. “Shit, you’re hopeless. You couldn’t kill an elephant standing two feet in front of you, much less a shifter several yards away.”

“But why? Why would you let me think I’d shot her?” Lauren didn’t know whether to feel angry at John or happy that she hadn’t murdered Torrie.

“Come on, Lauren, get a clue. I let you get the first shot off so you’d get all excited. Excited, then hot and bothered in bed later.”

Anger took the lead. She wanted to shoot him but instead forced her question through gritted teeth. “Answer me. How do you know I didn’t kill her? How do you know it wasn’t my bullet that killed her?”

He snickered. “I marked our bullets, remember? Yours with an L and mine with a J? You thought it was romantic like any dumb broad would. But it was just another ploy to get your panties off. I couldn’t believe you’d actually hit the beast, so I had the boys dig the bullets out of the carcass.” His leer widened. “None of them was your bullet. I found yours, with a trace of shifter blood on it, lodged in a tree behind the beast.”

Daniel peered over the edge of the building. Good thing he’d turned back to the apartment to ask Lauren if she wanted anything else from the market. At first he’d been angry after reading her note, but he’d had time to cool off and think. Of course Lauren would try to help a pregnant werewolf. Wouldn’t he have done the same thing? He’d changed on the run, slipping in and out of back alleys. Although he’d arrived at the restaurant after the hunters had already left, the stench of Lauren’s perfume gave him a tentative trail to follow. Hearing the shots, however, led him directly to her. He snarled, his gaze fixed on the dead werewolf, one of the youngest members of his pack. If only he’d gotten here faster. Crouching, he focused on John.

Lauren didn’t kill Torrie.
The sentence ran through Daniel’s mind, over and over, trying to get it to stick.
She shot at her. But it wasn’t Lauren who’d taken his mate.
He was unprepared for the emotion that assaulted him. Knowing that Lauren wasn’t responsible for his mate’s death let loose a flood of relief that almost knocked him off his feet.

Fury, unrestrained and raw, ripped through him, demolishing the relief and charging him with a power that had to find a release. He was blinded with one overwhelming need: to kill the hunter who’d taken his mate from him and was threatening Lauren. Transformed, Daniel snarled, then launched his body from the top of the building. He flew through the air, his snarl growing into a mighty bellow, and landed on John’s back.

“Urgh.” John hit the ground face first, dropping his rifle, his arms flailing outward. Daniel tore into his clothes, raking his back into long slits of red. John screamed and struggled to rise, but the large werewolf kept him pinned and vulnerable.

“Daniel. No!”

But the beast was in control now, holding a tight rein on the human consciousness inside him. Daniel could hear her pleas to release the hunter, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t let him go. Growling, he warned the other hunters to stay back.

“Someone shoot it!”

“No, wait. We might hit John.”

The hunters were in total disarray, mindless bodies waiting for an order from their head, their leader. One by one, they approached Daniel but scurried away when he lashed out, his razor-like claws raking empty air in warning.

“Daniel, please let him go.”

Instead, Daniel sank his fangs into John’s shoulder and shook him. John screamed, the sound almost animalistic. Daniel released the hunter and prepared to take the bite that would end his life. He would avenge Torrie’s death, fulfilling the promise he’d made to her lifeless body, and protect Lauren.

“Daniel, please.”

Lauren’s whisper caught his attention where her shouts had failed. She knelt beside them, her hands clasped in front of her.

“You’re better than he is. Please stop. Please let him go.”

Daniel licked the blood from his lips and shook his head. John’s cries grew softer and Daniel listened to them, delighting in the pitiful noises the hunter made. She couldn’t ask this of him. Not after what this hunter had done to Torrie. Not after how he’d treated her.

“Don’t, Daniel. Prove that even in your animal form, you’re still better than he is. Better than all of us.”

His answered rumbled inside his chest. John’s blood tasted sweet and he wanted more.

“Would Torrie want you to kill him?”

Lauren’s question surprised him and his snarl died in his throat. Of course his mate would want this. She would. He was sure of it. Yet memories of Torrie challenged him. Torrie’s sweet face. Torrie cornering a hunter, then letting him go. Torrie talking to Daniel. Torrie wishing for peace between hunters and shifters.

“Would Torrie want you to become a killer like John?” Lauren reached out, hesitated, then touched John’s arm. John groaned and latched on to her arm, his fingers digging into her.

Daniel growled, warning him, warning her. If the hunter hurt her, he’d die a swift and painful death.

“What would Torrie do, Daniel?”

Lauren wouldn’t stop, instead searching deep inside him, past the beast and into the man. He hoped the animal would win out, to cage the man within, without words, without conscience. But Lauren’s voice kept dragging the man back. “You’ve punished him enough. Please, Daniel, you forgave me. You can forgive John, too.”

The two were not the same. Daniel wanted to tell her that but couldn’t. Lauren had gone on the hunt that had taken Torrie’s life, but she hadn’t realized what she was doing until it was too late. And once she had, she’d changed, vowing to help other shifters. John, on the other hand, thirsted for shifter blood and continued to kill.

“Let him go and we’ll get out of here. Please, Daniel. If you won’t do it for me, then do it for Torrie.”

She was right. Torrie would want him to let John go. The thought struggled to take hold in Daniel, but his wolf fought against it, didn’t want to see the truth of it. No, he wanted John to pay, to hurt the way Torrie had, the way he had, the way Lauren had. But he couldn’t deny the honesty when he heard it. Both Torrie and Lauren would let John go. Howling his frustration, he jumped off the struggling hunter and stepped into Lauren’s arms.

She embraced him, careless of the blood staining her clothes. “Thank you, Daniel. Thank you.”

Daniel closed his eyes. Shoving the angry werewolf back inside was difficult, harder than ever before, but he shifted, his human form fighting its way to the surface. His chest heaved, his naked body covered with sweat, not from the physical exertion to change, but from the emotions tearing jagged wounds inside him.

“Daniel?”

He opened his eyes, found her searching him, tears glistening and ready to fall. “Are you all right, Lauren?”

She giggled and tossed her hair. “I should ask you the same thing.”

“I’m fine. Or at least I will be once we get the hell out of here.”

“Like hell you will.” John grabbed for his rifle, snatching it off the ground seconds before Lauren reached for it.

Fear widened her eyes and a sinking feeling gripped him. They turned together, ready to face their enemies. John, battered and bloody, held a dirty rag to his bleeding shoulder and wobbled on his feet. Stone-faced, he pressed the muzzle of his gun against Daniel’s head. “You’re not going anywhere, shifter. Except straight to Hell.”

Daniel growled, coiled and ready to spring, but froze as another hunter grabbed Lauren and dragged her several feet away. He snarled another warning, his fangs breaking the skin and sliding over his lower lip, the change just under the surface eager to take control again. “Let her go.”

The scent of hatred flowed from John. “Shut up, you filthy beast.” He lowered the rifle, shoving it against Daniel’s ribcage.

The prod was painful, but watching them bind Lauren’s hands hurt even more. The urge to tear John’s head off hardened inside him, the werewolf inside calling for blood, but Daniel knew better than to risk charging the hunter. One shot and Lauren would lie dead at his feet.

John’s evil leer made him want to vomit, yet instead, he managed a smile. “You don’t want to hurt her. She’s one of your own. She’s human and a hunter.” If he could get them to release Lauren, then he didn’t care what they did to him. “Killing a shifter is one thing, but a human? That’s murder, isn’t it?” He scanned the other hunters, determined to appeal to what little sense of decency they had. “Do you want a human’s blood on your hands? Is it worth life in prison?” Several of the hunters appeared nervous, glancing at one another and shifting back and forth on their feet. “You know what I’m saying is right. Hurt Lauren and you’ll all be guilty of murder.” He straightened, determined to die on his feet. “Come on. Let her go. If you’ll do, I’ll do whatever you want.”

John’s chuckle cut through him. “You’ll do whatever I want anyway, beast.” His face hardened as he turned to Lauren. “You screwed up big time, bitch. If you’d stayed in your place, I’d have trained you to be a good, dutiful woman. Hell, I was even thinking of marrying you.” His sneer bled into his tone. “But you can forget that. Me marry a shifter-lover? No way in hell.” John paused, looked at Lauren and then Daniel, and pieced it together. “Oh, my God. It’s worse than I thought. You don’t love him like you’d love a pet. You love him like he’s a human man.”

John clutched her hair and shook her. Lauren’s cry sent Daniel into a rage, whipping the animal inside to a frenzy. He struggled not to change at the same time fighting the fury, the adrenaline that rushed through him so violently that he almost blacked out. The hunter kept his gun trained at him and, if he hadn’t released Lauren soon after, Daniel would’ve charged him.

“Why, you dirty slut. You slept with that
thing
?”

“Don’t blame the victim, man.” Daniel plastered on a lecherous smile, hoping to make the hunter assume he’d raped her. Unfortunately, her innocence didn’t mean anything to John. His expression of disgust didn’t change. “I took her sweet ass.”

“Lying down with dogs is lying down with dogs. Any way it happens, you still end up with fleas.” His scorn was directed at Lauren again. “I don’t touch dirty animals, human or otherwise. Thank God you’ve acted like a bitch lately and kept me from wanting to fuck you.”

“I’m surprised she’d ever let you near her.” Daniel’s stomach clenched at the idea of Lauren and John together.

Seeing a way to get to Daniel, John took his best shot. “Oh, I got to her, werewolf.” His sneer grew wider. “I had her every way you can think of. Including doggy-style.”

“You’re a liar, you bastard.”

Daniel grinned at Lauren’s vehement denial. “The lady says differently, Johnny.”

John gritted his teeth, grinding out his words. “She’s no lady. Trust me. Her cunt’s loose from screwing everything she can get, but her ass is still good and tight.” He knelt closer to Daniel. “Tell me, dirtbag. How did you like my sloppy seconds?”

The hunter had finally crossed the line. Opening the cage and freeing his inner wolf, Daniel flew through the air, striking John in the chest. Lauren’s shout to stop came too late. Instead, the only thing he could see or hear was the hunter beneath him. The shift came quickly, ripping through him faster than it ever had before. They hit the ground together, but Daniel stayed on top. Slamming John’s head against the pavement, he dropped his jaw, ready to tear flesh and bone apart.

“Get him!”

“Don’t shoot. You might hit John!”

The voices surrounded him and he sensed the others moving closer. But he didn’t care. All that mattered was his need to taste the hunter’s blood, hear the choking sounds as he took his final breaths. All that mattered was death.

A blow to the head rattled him and he twisted around to glare at the hunter holding his rifle by the barrel. He snarled, tried to shake the fuzziness away, but another blow to his head sent him rolling to the side. Daniel struck out, hoping to hit someone, something, but raked air instead. Another blow against his ear rocked him. His legs gave out and he collapsed, still clawing for John. Blackness swept through him, and he roared, fighting to stay conscious, fighting for a few more precious seconds. He had to kill John. For Lauren’s safety. The blackness followed another sharp blow to his head and, at last, he lost the struggle.

Lauren screamed and lurched toward the fallen Daniel, but strong hands held her back. “Daniel! Please, Daniel, get up!”

Her throat cracked with the intensity of her shout, but she barely noticed. She had to help him. If she could save him, then whatever they did to her wouldn’t matter.

John stumbled over to Daniel, grabbed his hair and lifted his head. “Yep, he’s out.” With a wicked laugh, he turned Daniel loose.

Daniel’s head fell to the pavement, making a noise Lauren would never forget, but he still didn’t move.

“Damn you, John. Damn all of you. He was right. What you do is nothing short of murder. You’re not hunters. You’re coldblooded killers.” She struggled against the two men holding her, saliva forming in her lust to get her hands on John. He would pay. Someday, somehow, she would see that he paid.

John swaggered over to her, his cockiness overriding his pain. “Yeah, we’re killers. We kill the scum of the world, the vermin that infests our city. If people knew about our sacrifice, the time, the money, hell, the dangers we face to keep them safe, they’d call us heroes, not murderers.”

Lauren reared back, then sent a wad of spit flying at him. Her aim was true, hitting him directly below his left eye. She laughed full out and kept laughing until he struck her cheek. His blow made her sway unsteadily on her feet and she would have fallen if the men hadn’t kept their grip on her. But she refused to let him wipe the smile off her face. “Go fuck yourself, John Rawlings.”

He pinched her chin between fingers, shooting pain along her jaw line. “I’d rather fuck myself than fuck you again.” Snorting, he jerked his hand away. “Max, Walter, Charlie, you men stay here and take care of this mangy mutt. Give him time to come to, then shoot him in the head. I want him to know what’s going to happen to him.”