Page 150 of Roaring Flames

Without preamble, the leader kicks Sam in the stomach, causing the other man to cry out in pain. Someone screams from the crowd, and I think I hear Dec yell something, but the roaring between my ears muffles all of their voices.

The gunmen all hoot and laugh. All…except for one. He stands near the back of the crowd, holding his gun loosely, as if he’s unfamiliar with using the weapon. He twists his head away.

The leader lowers himself until he’s at eye level with the sobbing shifter. “I’ll ask you nicely one more time. Get. The. Fuck. Up.”

Sam holds his stomach as he rocks back and forth.

“We have our first loser of the night.” The leader chuckles, lifts his gun, and shoots Sam directly in the forehead.

Blood and brain splatter across the wooden table, shades of deepest red and palest pink. My stomach twists, and I place my hand over my mouth, desperate to hold in the vomit that threatens to make an appearance.

He killed Sam…

Just like that.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Screams echo through the crowd of shifters, and two large men stand up, fur sprouting on their arms. But then the man closest to the children cocks his gun and aims it at a crying little girl’s face. Both men immediately fall back down, anger, regret, and grief painted across their faces.

“My god. This is bad. This is really, really bad.” Terror squeezes my heart in an impenetrable vise. “We need to do something.”

“What do you suppose we do?”

The question doesn’t come out clipped or even sarcastic. For the first time in his life, Ashton genuinely wants my opinion. And though he tries to hide it, I can hear his fear—hear it in the way his breath hitches and the way his voice shakes. The muscles in his shoulders tremble as he grips the branch of the nearest tree, almost as if he needs it to keep himself upright.

I take a moment to push my fear away, to look at this the way I always used to do in the fighting ring. Only, instead of one opponent, I have multiple. And they have guns. And hostages. And they’ve already killed somebody.

Okay, think, Izzy, think.

Our best bet will be to get the shifters to fight back. If they work together, they’ll be unstoppable. The gunmen won’t stand a chance against so many wolves. However, no one will fight with the children’s lives on the line. So…

“If we can get the children to safety, the others will be able to fight back.”

Ashton turns to stare at me in disbelief. In his gaze, I can see everything he doesn’t say out loud.

It’s a suicide mission.

We’re just two teenagers.

We won’t stand a chance against a speeding bullet.

But, like me, he seems to realize that this is the only option at play. Neither of us are willing to tuck our tails and run, not with so many lives on the line. Not with our—god help me—packon the line.

Determination tightens Ashton’s jaw and darkens his eyes until they’re nearly obsidian. “All right. What do you suppose we do?”

“We…” My voice trails off, and I suck in a sharp breath as the scene before us changes.

A girl has been tossed onto the picnic table—a somewhat familiar girl with light-brown hair and large doe eyes.

Lacey, Christian’s ex-girlfriend.

And then Christian himself appears, his arms held between two masked gunmen, his features distorted in rage and fear. His wild eyes flicker from face to face, and I know he’s searching for me and his brother.

“No,” I breathe in horror as they throw Christian down at the leader’s feet.

He slowly pushes himself onto his knees, his back hunched, anger etched across every line of his perfect face.

Fear for him momentarily glues my feet to the ground. I can barely breathe around the spike in my heart. But then fury paves its way through me, bolstering my resolve, and I take a threatening step forward. I’ll kill them all with my bare hands if I have to. This place will be a bloodbath by the time I’m done with them. I’ll do whatever it takes to free Christian and?—

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