Where the fuck did they get gas cans? I wondered to myself and waited for Koroleva to respond. When she didn’t, I chuckled and turned to the guys.
“Shall we?” I asked.
The prospect’s response was to pour gas down the side of the building. I leaned down and flicked the lighter. The flame illuminated in the dark and caught fire to the dry grass that was along the edge of the warehouse. It didn’t take long until a flame grew. It ran along the side of the building. The heat around us grew making us take several steps back.
I watched as the fire danced its way up the side of the building to the roof. Men shouted off in the distance, semi-trucks started, and all chaos broke loose.
We shifted and bolted towards the opening in the fence. I looked over my shoulder to see all the semi-trucks barrel assing out of the gate with several guards chasing after them. Two other warehouses were engulfed in flames. Guards stood staring at the buildings, helpless on how to handle the enormous flames.
There was nothing they could do. Not without mother nature acting in their favor, which judging by the sudden wind gust, I doubted she was here to help them. A victorious smirk curled at the corner of my mouth.
Roark’s message had definitely been sent loud and clear.
328
Banshee
Roark and I were going to have words. I fumed as I wound my way back towards the clubhouse. I wanted to be at Chance’s side but I knew what it was like, needing to prove things to yourself and others.
My mate and I still had so much to work out. When he told Roark that he had come on behalf of the council to kill me, my heart almost stopped. Just the thought of my mate being the one to do that was enough to make me not want to live.
But, thanks to our mind-reading… talking ability, I knew Chance’s true feelings.
Nearing town, I shifted back to two legs and decided to walk by the strip club. With everything happening the past few days, I’d left the running of the club up to Flint and Harpy.
My instinct flared as I approached. The neon sign was off. It should be on but wasn’t. The closed sign was on the door and no cars filled the parking lot. This time of the night the club should be hopping.
“What the fuck?” I cursed and stomped up to the door and pulled at it. It gave way easily – it hadn’t been locked.
My skin crawled. Blood scented the air and I glanced into the dim bar. The only light was from the main stage. A spotlight shone down onto Flint. His head hung down against his chest. I could make out long scratches in several locations on his body.
I wanted to run to him but my instinct warned me that his attacker could still be in the building. Pulling at my power, I ghosted and walked silently along the wall as I worked my way toward the stage.
Inhaling and sorting scents as I moved, I didn’t pick up any unusual ones. The sheriff had been by, which could explain the closed sign.
But then it hit me… Brett. The big asshole and several of his men had been here. Roark had been waiting on the assholes who’d attacked Kendra to come back to town and a few of the scents mingled with Brett’s matched the ones I could remember from when I tracked them.
“Fucking human bastards,” I snarled as I picked up my pace.
“Banshee,” Flint gasped. “No... har–”
A dart struck his chest. It was made out of a short piece of wood and feathers. Handmade. I dashed to the stage and huddled behind him.
Fuck, I groaned inside as I looked around. I’d almost made a dumbass rooky mistake. Guess I can’t make fun of Chance about the tarp any more.
“Koroleva?” Chance’s voice was weak inside of my head.
Ignoring him, I once again scanned the room. Where the fuck was the asshole who had darted Flint? The bear was one of mine and anger surged at the balls the person who attacked him must have had. I initially was thinking the humans but humans couldn’t take down the huge bear shifter on their own. Not even there were ten of them. Now, taking down a drugged Flint would have been much easier but how would they have known what would be effective on the big guy?
There had to be a shifter helping them… but who?
“Lolita. They took her.” Flint’s soft exhale was full of remorse.
“Flint?” I hissed low. “Who?”
Keeping my voice extra soft and my questions short, I hoped the enemy wouldn’t hear me.
“Sheriff. Asshole. Stranger. Harpy.” Flint’s reply was weak and seemed disjointed.
“The bear shifter can really fight those drugs,” a masculine voice echoed around my club. “What a shame we didn’t find him as a cub.”
A man stepped from behind the curtain covering the hallway the girls took from the dressing room. He didn’t seem as tall as I remembered. But the voice was identical.
“NO!” my feline-side went crazy inside of me as my instinct and power fought the logical, human-side.
“Koroleva! I’m coming. I feel your pain and I’m coming.” Chance’s voice was stronger than before.
“It’s him.”
“Who?” Chance asked.
“My mama, Chance,” internally I sobbed as I struggled with memories I’d thought were long buried.
“Come on out abomination,” the man called out.
My claws pushed from my fingertips.
“Wait on me, Koroleva! Wait!” Chase pleaded but I could no longer focus on his words.
“So, this is the one that got away?” Harpy walked from the hallway. “I can’t believe it. She’s not much. The damn bikers placate her.”
“Koroleva!”
“I love you, Dorain,” I replied to his mental shout.
I lunged from behind Flint. Shifting mid-leap, I twisted in the air and fell
