Page 152 of Marked

“Go around the front,” the man with the gun said. “I’ll check this way.”

Fuck.

“I can smell you, little missy,” the man said, voice deep and gravelly. “You got that freshly turned scent, too. Come out and say hi to old Danny boy. We’ll forget about you kicking me in the family jewels. Maybe I’ll let you kiss ’em and make it all better before I bring you in.”

His feet scraped on the pavement, inching ever nearer. My brain sent out misfiring jolts of thoughts.Run. Fight. Cry. Panic. Vomit.

My hands trembled as my options dwindled. When he rounded the corner, I had only one thing I could do. I had to fight. The barrel of the gun appeared around the corner first, and when I saw it, I kicked out with all my strength.

Despite my best wishes, the gun did not go flying. Instead, it swung away, opening up an avenue for me to attack him directly.

Moving as fast as I could, I jumped out of my hiding place and slammed my fist into his neck, then landed another punch in his ribs. My first strike only glanced off his shoulder, but the second struck home, drawing a gasp of pain from him. The next thing I knew, a blinding-white lance of pain burst through my skull as he swung his gun around and smacked me in the head.

Tumbling backward, I pinwheeled my arms to keep my balance, but to no avail. My ass hit the ground, and pain reverberated through my back. Scrambling to get to my feet, I clawed at the mound of trash bags.

“You got some fight in you,” the man said, and spat on the ground. “I was only joking before, but maybe Iwilltake a little payment outta that cunt of yours before I get paid.”

Blind fear drove me on. Before he could get to me, I was on my feet and sprinting down the alley. The panicked part of my mind overrode all coherent thoughts. I’d managed to get ten yards when something slammed into the back of my knees, causing my legs to go out from under me. I fell face-first onto the asphalt.

Glancing back, I saw a broken toilet seat lying beside me. He must have tossed it like a frisbee. A verydignifiedweapon. My vision was still blurry from the strike to my head, but I managed to make out my attacker rushing toward me. Either I was seeing double, or his friend had rejoined him.

The one with the gun rushed me and planted his foot on my left hand, pressing the back of my wrist painfully into the ground. The other man stood beside him, swinging a wooden club. It looked like a thick broom handle that had been sawed down enough to be hidden under a coat.

“You little bitch,” the gunman said, leaning down and pressing the barrel of his pistol under my chin to lift my head. “This was supposed to be a quick smash-and-grab. I’ll get you back to the one paying for this, but you can fuckingbetyou won’t be the same when you get there.”

Was he going to shoot me? Put a round into my kneecap or hand so I couldn’t fight back? Though, if that was his plan, why hadn’t he shot me when I ran? Perhaps he’d been told to bring me in unharmed and all this was just empty threats.

My thoughts were interrupted by the high, whining scream of a bike.Nate!The men froze and turned their gazes up the alley. The black motorcycle rocketed down the alley like some sleek-bodied dragon that had taken flight. Nate’s eyes blazed with fury, and a sheet of drying blood masked his face.

“Holy shit!” The man swung around to aim at Nate.

He was too slow. Even as he pulled the gun from me, Nate leaped off the bike and shifted to his wolf form in mid-air. His jaws yawned open, ivory fangs glimmering in the light of the street lamps. He crashed into the gunman, clamping his teeth on the man’s wrist and twisting until the gun dropped and skittered away.

Shifters were concerned with secrecy, but it looked like Nate didn’t give a damn. He’d shifted right here where anyone whowas passing the alley could see. I gaped as Nate and the gunman tumbled to the ground in a heap. The gunman screamed for help as Nate’s bike crashed into a massive mound of trash bags.

“Fuck you, motherfucker!” the second man cried out. He began beating at Nate’s back with his club.

Nate kicked out his hind leg, his claws raking across the second attacker’s face. Three bloody furrows tore open from the man’s chin to his forehead, one eye vanishing in a burst of blood. The club tumbled to the ground with a rattle as the man fell backward, screaming in agony and clutching his ruined eye.

The gunman shifted and squared off with Nate while the screams of the other man echoed through the alleyway. The growls and snarls of the fight were maddening in their chaos, and I had a hard time watching it. Snapping teeth, clawing feet, and twisting bodies thrashing around made it difficult to figure out who was winning and who was losing.

I spotted the gun a few feet away and lunged for it. My trembling fingers closed over the butt of the gun, and I aimed it at the fight. It was no good, though. The two were too entwined in the fight, and I was far too unskilled with a firearm to trust myself not to shoot Nate in the head by accident. Besides, the gun feltwrongin my hands, as if it were tuned to a whole different vibration that my body didn’t like. It made my skin crawl.

The screams of the other man had died out. When I looked up, I saw him stumbling down the alley. For a moment, I thought about chasing after him, but it was probably pointless.

A yelp brought my attention back to the fight. Nate had his teeth clamped into the other wolf’s throat. All the light had gone out of the attacker’s eyes, and his body hung limp and lifeless. Nate jerked his head to the side, then tossed the dead body aside before shifting back to his human form.

He rushed to the side and took the gun from my trembling hand. “Are you okay?”

“I—I think so,” I muttered. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“What about your head?” When he touched the spot behind my ear, his fingers came away red.

Wincing, I reached up. My fingers brushed over a small cut, and I felt a lump forming on my scalp. Painful, but not life-threatening.

“Your head looks worse than mine,” I said. He looked like some mad Viking warrior who’d come blood-splattered straight from battle. I reached out, gingerly brushing his forehead. “What happened to you?”

Nate glared in the direction where the second man had escaped. “That prick got the jump on me. Knocked me out. I came running the minute I woke up.” He cupped my cheek, and I saw the fear in his eyes. “I was scared I’d be too late.”

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