“Twenty-five,” Finn said. “Maybe more.”
Mal grinned, slapping Dante on the shoulder. “Sounds like we’re all gonna get some action today.”
Dante nodded. He lacked Mal and Gentry’s enthusiasm, but he’d refused to stay behind.
“News on Brown?” Gentry asked, sloshing forward through the icy water.
“He and the girl are at the safe house. Hollis has her under lock-down, just in case she wakes up with an ax to grind.” Anders asked, “She really Brown’s daughter?”
“We’ll know when they wake up,” Mal said.
It had taken everything he had not to wake her up. He wanted to shake her until she told him what he needed to know. What were Cyrus’s weaknesses? How could Finn hurt him most?
“Finn?” Anders spoke into the ear piece. “No distractions. Jessa’s brothers are safe here, all googly-eyed over Oscar. We’re good.” Anders sighed. “I know you’re pissed man, but don’t lose your head. Jessa—”
Finn pulled out his earpiece. He couldn’t hear her name, it set the wolf off—made him crazed. Not yet. Not yet.
“It’s time,” Finn said.
Gentry was wearing his hell-yes smile, toting every firearm known to man.
“I’m ready,” Mal said, bouncing on the ball of his feet.
Finn shook his head. It was a shit plan, but the only one they had. “Be careful,” he said, clasping Mal’s hand in his.
Mal shook his head. “Can’t promise that.”
“We’ll bring the cavalry,” Gentry said, still grinning.
Mal waved and left, sprinting up onto the highway and across, into the corn-field that surrounded Cyrus’s farm. In five-minutes, he’d cause a diversion, then they’d go in.
“Nothing like freezing your ass off in an ice bath to make you remember the good old days,” Gentry said, laughing. “Hunting the bad guys, tromping through hellacious terrain, and—my favorite—blowing shit up.”
Finn focused on the horizon. Mal’s signal, courtesy of Gentry’s skill with plastic explosives, should rock the ground under their feet and light up the sky. And it would stop all their pointless conversations. The wolf was done with pretending to be human. Finn’s eyes narrowed, anticipation rippling down his spine. The urge to shift was undeniable.
“Anytime now,” Dante said, glancing at his watch.
A few seconds later, the sky exploded. Orange, yellow, red, and white streaked up into the early morning sky.
“I’d say that’ll get their attention.” Dante grinned, clapping Gentry on the back.
“Damn straight,” Gentry agreed. “Giving you five minutes, starting now.”
Finn shifted, giving his wolf what he wanted: ultimate control. He’d never felt the surge of the hunt so clearly. Never wanted to see what his wolf was capable of. Now, he couldn’t wait to get started.
“Holy shit,” Gentry said. “Gets me every time.” He smiled at Finn. “See you in there, boss.”
Finn took off, his paws tearing up the ground as his nose led the way. Dante was at his side, letting him lead but staying close. They skirted the field, staying in the shadows, until the house was in sight. It looked like something out of The Walton’s. Big and white, a traditional farmhouse. Full of traditional werewolves. More Stephen King than Little House on the Prairie.
Despite the light show, there was not a sound. No sign of a wolf.
The fur on his shoulders pricked straight up.
Where the hell was everyone?
The barn was blazing, flames leaping high enough to ignite the dry stalks. It was only a matter of time before the fields went up and the fire spread to the house and outbuildings. Yet no one was attempting to put the flames out. It was still. Silent. They knew they were coming.
Dante nudged his haunch before sprinting off. He’d loop around and bring up the rear.