Walter Hardy had tried to kill them, and if they’d been regular cops, he would have succeeded. The only reason they weren’t dead was because werewolves were damn hard to kill.
That said, they were still beat up. Of all of them, Xander and Becker had gotten the worst of it, which meant they’d probably be staying in the hospital overnight for observation. But as soon as Gage could leave, he was going to pay Walter Hardy a visit and let him know exactly how SWAT took care of its own.
Gage dropped his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. Werewolves or not, he and his men had been lucky. They’d all sensed something was wrong the second they’d breached the doors and entered the house. Instead of coming face-to-face with people wielding automatic weapons, the place had been empty. It had smelled wrong, too. Gage hadn’t been able to place the odor, but Cooper recognized it. Gage and the others had already begun to spread throughout the first floor with weapons at the ready when the explosives expert had shouted out one word—bomb.
Gage knew in his gut that there was no time to get everyone out of the house before the device detonated, especially since whoever had set it was probably somewhere nearby with his finger on the remote. Even if they managed to escape, they would never have survived the blast and frag that went with it. That was when he’d ordered everyone into the basement.
Unfortunately, he, Cooper, and Delaney had been too far away from the stairs leading under the house to even consider them. So, he’d done something he rarely ever did anymore and let the beast inside free, allowing most of his upper body to shift more than it had in years. His shoulders, arms, and chest had bulked and twisted so quickly it was painful, but the temporary agony was worth it as he crouched down and drove his fist into the cheap linoleum floor in the kitchen. Two savage punches later, the floor caved in, leaving a ragged hole barely large enough for him and the other two men to fit through.
He’d shoved Cooper and Delaney ahead of him, then followed. He hadn’t even hit the basement floor when the explosion came. It smashed him into the concrete of the basement floor like a jackhammer, knocking him senseless. When he came to, Cooper and Delaney were dragging him toward the far side of the basement as the floors above rained down on top of them. Thick black smoke filled the air, making it hard to breathe, and he feared he’d saved his men from the blast only so they could burn to death in the fire. But luckily, the fire only smoldered after the blast and the smoke cleared. In the dark of the partially collapsed basement, he, Cooper, and Delaney had crawled around until they found the rest of the Pack.
Becker and Xander had been trapped under hundreds of pounds of rubble, but not before they’d gotten skewered by jagged pieces of wood. While Cooper and Delaney worked quickly to free them, he’d searched for Lowry and found him pulling a piece of metal from his leg. Werewolves were tough and hard to kill, but they still needed oxygen like every other living thing on the planet—which was in short supply underneath the collapsed house.
Gage had just been looking for a way out when a shaft of sunlight penetrated the darkness of the basement. Even though he and the other guys had only been trapped down there for a few minutes, it seemed like a hell of a lot longer. Probably because he’d hurt like a son of a bitch all over. But all the aches and pains had disappeared when he climbed out of the basement to see Mackenzie running toward him.
She’d been crying so hard she was shaking all over. But that was nothing compared to how fast her heart had been beating. That made him hurt worse than anything. He’d wrapped her in his arms, wanting to protect her from every pain in the world. But of course, he couldn’t do that because she wasn’t crying over her pain—she was crying over his.
As dumb as it sounded, the ride to the hospital together in the ambulance had been one of the most pleasant times he’d spent with a woman. Mackenzie had simply sat beside him and held his hand, leaning down to kiss him whenever the EMT wasn’t fussing over him. That was when he’d finally decided to accept Cooper’s silly-ass theory that she was The One because as far as he could tell, she was.
Apparently, the rest of the Pack had come to the same conclusion. After seeing the way she’d reacted, it was obvious she wasn’t playing him. Even Xander couldn’t dispute that.
Gage turned his head on the pillow, looking for her. She’d been in and out of his room several times over the past two hours, but kept getting chased out by the nurses and their damn tests. He smiled when he saw her. She was sitting in the hallway with Mike and Zak. His senior squad leader had gotten to the hospital minutes after Gage and the rest of the guys had been brought in. The photographer showed up fifteen minutes later, telling Mackenzie he’d heard about the blast on the scanner.
Gage was just about to get out of bed and go join them—screw the nurses—but then he saw Mackenzie, Mike, and Zak stand up quickly. That could only mean the doctor had finally come back. About damn time. They’d been taking X-rays, running a dozen tests, and re-checking his vitals to cover their asses. He couldn’t blame them, he supposed, but he needed to get out of here. He had someplace to be.
The doctor walked in with Mackenzie on his heels. She looked concerned and more than a little scared. Shit. Gage hoped that look meant
