Page 29 of Rusty's Command

Behind them, Soda’s savage growl turned into a thunderous bark that boomed like a cannon. The confined space erupted into chaos—snarls that belonged in the deepest pits of hell, screams of genuine terror, and the sound of flesh tearing.

The man Rusty was fighting froze for a split second, his head snapping toward the horrific sounds. Rusty kicked the back of his legs, dropping him to his knees.

“Get it off me! Help!” the other man shrieked as Soda’s jaws clamped on his neck. Blood sprayed across the stone, and he twisted wildly, swinging his fists in a desperate attempt to fight off the dog.

“Help! Help me!” His cries turned hoarse as he thrashed and kicked.

The roar of blood in Rusty’s ears dulled the cries as he searched for the gun again. There. Four feet away. The other bastard saw it, too, and despite his injuries, he dove for it.

Not fucking happening.

Rusty kicked the man’s broken nose, and the sharp crunch of cartilage was followed by a guttural scream. Using the man’s pain to buy himself a precious second, Rusty ignored his own ribs screaming in protest and dove for the weapon.

As his fingers closed around steel, the fucker’s hand clamped around his wrist, twisting his arm back. White-hot agony shot through Rusty’s arm as tendons stretched to breaking.

“Soda!” The name tore from his throat like a war cry. “Attack!”

Soda released her first victim with a wet snarl and lunged toward her next man like a dark missile. The bastard screamed at the incoming threat. Rusty wrenched his arm free and pivoted as Soda’s jaws clamped down on the brute’s shoulder with bone-crushing force.

The cave filled with an unholy shriek as the bastard thrashed, trying to shake her off.

Rusty scrambled to the gun, and trained the weapon from one man to the next. The first attacker lay in a growing pool of darkness, gurgling wetly through his ruined throat. Good. Let the fucker drown in his own blood.

“Stop it! I give up!” The voice of the man in Soda’s grip cracked with terror as Soda shifted her attack, pinning him down by the throat. “Fuck. Get it off me!”

Rusty spat blood onto the stone floor and strode forward. He aimed the gun in the bastard’s face. “Who sent you?”

“Please! Stop it!”

Soda’s growl deepened, and she shifted her grip so her teeth were inches from the man’s jugular.

“Start talking fast,” Rusty snarled, “or I let her finish what she started.”

Shadows moved behind him, and the hairs on his neck bristled as Rusty turned.

The first attacker who should’ve been fucking dead had pushed himself up on one elbow. Blood poured from his ruined throat, coating his chest in a dark sheen. But his eyes were wide and wild, filled with something beyond pain or fear. Something feral. Unnatural.

In his trembling hand, a compact pistol gleamed in the dim light.

The lava walls amplified the sound of the hammer cocking into a thunderous click.

“Soda! Down!”

Rusty hurled himself at the blood-soaked bastard.

The gun exploded.

CHAPTER 10

Sienna

“Pickle!”Sienna whisper-shouted into the darkness, but her voice echoed back to her, high-pitched and terrified.

Where the hell is he? The one time I need him to be the clingy mutt he usually is, and he decides to be Mr. Explorer.

With trembling fingers, she felt along the curved wall, trying to orient herself in the absolute blackout. The stone caught at her fingertips, rough and weirdly warm.

“Pickle. Come! Please . . . Here, boy.” Forcing cheerfulness in her voice made her head spin.

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