Page 30 of Beast

“You have four rifles trained on you, Ms.Church.Do the smart thing, or they’ll fire.”

After inhaling deeply, I dropped the gun and raised my arms slowly, making no sudden moves.

Where the heck was King?

The kick came out of nowhere, smashing into the side of my head and sending me sprawling onto the dusty pavement.My cheek hit the ground hard, and blood filled my mouth.Before I could recover, Smythe leaned down, pressing the cold barrel of his gun against my temple.

“How many Shadow Warriors are with you?”he demanded.

I turned my head just enough to spit blood onto the ground and sneer up at him.Smythe’s boot came down on several of my braids, pinning me in place.The pressure sent pain across my scalp, but it didn’t faze me.

My gaze shifted to Garret.His fingers twitched, moving slowly toward the knife strapped to his side.Relief bloomed in my chest.He was alive.I just needed to keep Smythe and his lackeys focused on me.

“There are nearly two hundred Warriors raining down on your head right now,” I said, my voice dripping with hatred.

Smythe leaned in, my braids still pinned beneath his boot.His finger trailed down my cheek in a mockery of tenderness.“You’re a liar, little miss defense secretary, a traitor to your country.And you know what the punishment for treason is, don’t you?”His voice dropped to a whisper.“It’s death.”

He straightened, aiming his rifle at my head again.I barely registered the movement behind him, but Smythe heard a noise.I seized my chance.My hand shot up, gripping the barrel of Smythe’s rifle.I twisted hard, ripping it from his grasp as I propelled myself off the ground.

Using the rifle, I slammed the butt into his face.His nose crunched, and he dropped like a stone statue.

A gunshot cracked, the bullet slicing past my ear, too close for comfort.Spinning with the rifle still in my hands, I swung it like a club, driving the stock into the stomach of the next soldier.He doubled over, gasping, just as my other hand reached for my sword.

Garret was on the ground, locked in a rolling struggle with one of Smythe’s men.Another soldier froze, his gun half-raised, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.

I locked onto his gaze, my voice low and full of his promised death.“Run.”

The word barely left my mouth before I let Ms.Beast take over.The shift was explosive.The soldier’s scream echoed through the air as I lunged.He didn’t get more than two steps before my claws caught him, dragging him toward me.My teeth sank into the back of his neck, and with a vicious push of my hand against his spine, I ripped his spinal column free.Blood sprayed in a wide arc; the metallic tang sharp in the air as his body crumpled.

But I was already moving.Garret’s attacker barely registered me before my claws raked across his throat, the gurgling sound of his death cut short.I kicked the lifeless body off Garret and dropped to my knees beside him.

Blood soaked the front of his shirt, the fabric clinging to his chest.My claws made quick work of tearing it open.“Where are you hit?”I demanded, scanning the mess of crimson for the source.

Garret wheezed.“Chest… knife… deep.”

I gritted my teeth while my hands worked frantically to find the wound.“Stay with me,” I growled.“I’ve got you.”

I tore Garret’s shirt completely off, revealing two puncture wounds.Using the halves of the ruined fabric, I pressed down hard on the bleeding injuries.I worked quickly, reaching for the extra strap on my chest.It was designed for moments exactly like this.King had insisted I practice buckling and unbuckling the leather in Beast form until it became easier in most circumstances.

“You’re not dying on me,” I muttered, tightening the strap securely around Garret’s chest.“Stay with me, okay?”

He coughed, the sound wet and rattling deep in his lungs.My stomach sank.This wasn’t good.“I’m not going anywhere,” he groaned weakly.His breath came in short, labored bursts.

My gaze flicked to Smythe, still alive but unconscious.We needed him for answers.I couldn’t leave him here indefinitely, but Garret wouldn’t last if I didn’t get him out of this mess first.Adjusting my weapons, I bent down and hoisted Garret into a fireman’s carry.

Before heading north, away from King, I delivered a swift kick to Smythe’s head, ensuring he’d stay out cold.

“Marinah,” Garret’s voice was faint.“You need to let me go.Leave me here.Help King.”

“No.”

“You must.”

“Shut up,” I snapped, adjusting my grip on him and ignoring his protests.The best spot to take him was my previous sniper position.King knew he would find me there.My muscles burned as I sprinted, leaping over debris and scaling cement walls nearly seven feet high with Garret over my shoulder.

Gunfire cracked sporadically from the camp behind us, the sound chasing my every step.

“Go to your mate,” Garret ground out between wheezes.

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