I typed out a text: Sorry, fell asleep. Still alive and full of juice. I’ll tell you in the morning.
As I slumped back on the bed, the rumble of engines outside caught my attention. Was Jaxson back from his ritual early? Buttoning my shorts, I climbed out of bed and peeked through the curtains. Four high rider trucks were pulling into the parking lot. I squinted as they flashed on their roof lights, which were brighter than day.
My nerves buzzed. This is all wrong.
I slid over the bed and grabbed Jaxson’s pistol off the table just as gunfire exploded across the parking lot.
Bullets ripped into our parked vehicles. Then my window exploded, shooting glass everywhere. I dropped to the ground, landing hard on my stomach. The pistol skidded across the floor.
A black object rolled to a stop three feet from where I lay. I froze as a jet of smoke erupted from the end of the object and began filling the room with a loud hiss.
A smoke bomb?
As the gas surrounded me, tears sprang to my eyes, and my skin blistered.
I knew that scent. Not just a smoke bomb—wolfsbane. Scrambling across the carpet on hands and knees, I grabbed the gun and darted into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
My pulse hammered in my temples.
This is an ambush. Think, think, think.
My eyes landed on the small window above the shower. It was only a couple feet wide. Jaxson and his wolfy goons couldn’t have gotten through, but there was just enough space for me to fit.
I tucked the gun into the back of my shorts and climbed onto the toilet, then wrenched the window open and pushed out the screen. Wood cracked and glass shattered, and suddenly, there were voices coming from my bedroom. Fear and adrenaline coursed through me. I grabbed the sill and yanked myself up through the window. There wasn’t enough room for me to slide my legs around, so I went headfirst. Once I had enough of my upper body dangling out of the window, gravity took control. Arms outstretched, I plummeted into the ground. Pain shot through my
palms, and I rolled onto my back.
Another splintering crash and the sound of shouting erupted through the opening: “She got out the window! Go around back!”
Oh, crap. I scrambled to my feet. I’d tweaked something in my wrist, but at least I hadn’t broken my damn neck.
The air was cool, and the moonlight illuminated the grassy yard that stretched to the woods behind the motel. I looked both ways—all clear—and sprinted for the trees. The ground was soft against my bare feet, but running through the woods was going to be tricky. I should have grabbed my boots, but with the gas, there hadn’t been time.
I disappeared into the shadows as a man and woman appeared around the side of the motel. They tipped their heads back, sniffing the air, and then their gazes locked onto my position.
Fucking werewolves.
I banged my shoulder against a tree, grimacing as the bark scraped my skin. Scooping up some dirt, I rubbed it on my bare arms as I darted into the trees. I had no idea if this would work, but it seemed like if I could mask my scent, I might be able to buy some time to shoot these bastards.
I slipped behind a large trunk and readied my gun.
The shifters paused beside the tree I’d rubbed against. The woman scanned the forest, searching for me.
That was all the delay I needed. I aimed and fired three rounds. Two of the bullets hit the woman square in the chest, and she dropped. Shock crossed the man’s face, and his ruddy eyes landed on me. He snarled and dashed forward.
I aimed for his head and pulled the trigger. My bullet sank into a tree trunk, and I cursed. The prick was weaving in and out of trees, and I couldn’t get a clear shot. Fear clawed at my heart, and I fought the urge to run.
Just breathe and aim, Savy.
The man rounded a bush and leapt toward me, and I fired twice. One bullet missed, but the other lodged in the bastard’s shoulder. He crashed into the ground and growled.
I fired a few more rounds as he scrambled to his feet, shifted, and fled into the darkness.
The echoes of my pistol faded, but I could hear bursts of gunfire from the front of the hotel. I checked my clip. Not many shots remained, but maybe I could help.
Suddenly, a branch snapped behind me. I spun to investigate, but something slammed into my chest, and I flew several feet before landing on my back with a crack. Pain flashed through me as I rolled onto my front and climbed to my knees. I tried to scream, but nothing came out.
Then a rope cinched around my throat. Terror filled me, and I clawed at my neck, trying to pry my fingers under the rope. But it was too tight. My trachea constricted, and dread settled over me as I was towed into the trees.