Page 33 of Beast

Axel shook his head, his eyes filled with certainty.“It will kill him instantly.”

Marinah turned to me, her gaze piercing.“We can’t let him die.”

There was nothing I could say to ease the blow.She’d risked her life for nothing, and frustration surged through me.I turned away, trying to rein in the storm brewing inside me.

Axel’s focus didn’t leave Garret.“Marinah, take his hand.I’ll clean and suture the wounds to stop the bleeding.”His words carried defeat.

I moved to the edge of the roof, scanning the city below while they switched places.Marinah held Garret while Axel worked, his hands steady but his movements filled with resignation.Garret’s shallow breaths were a fragile tether keeping him with us.

Through the scope, I spotted Beck and Labyrinth moving through the streets below.Labyrinth was carrying someone slung over his shoulder.If we had any luck at all, it was Smythe.My grip tightened on the rifle as I tracked their progress, keeping a sharp eye on the shadows around them.

This rooftop wasn’t safe.We were too close to the enemy camp and too exposed.The longer we stayed, the worse our chances were.I glanced back at Garret, his pale, sweat-covered face saying nothing I didn’t already know.The longer he held on, the more vulnerable we became.

Beck and Labyrinth hit the stairs, their footsteps echoing up the well.Marinah and Axel were speaking in low voices when Beck stormed onto the roof, his face a mask of frustration.

“They had a vehicle hidden,” he snapped, “and Smythe got away.We picked up this guy instead.”He jabbed a thumb toward the man Labyrinth unceremoniously dumped onto the rooftop floor.

The man groaned loudly, confirming he was alive.

“He pulled a gun on us,” Beck said, his lip curling in disgust.“Then he decided against pulling the trigger.Stupid man.”He turned to Axel.“How’s Garret?”

“He’ll die without a transfusion,” Axel said in a clipped voice.

“Universal.Blood for everyone,” the man on the ground muttered.

Axel’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing.“You have O negative blood?”

“Blood, blood, more blood,” the man coughed, his words slurred and strange.His face twisted into a grin, the kind that sent a chill down my spine.The eerie look in his eyes made my gut tighten.Something about him was off.Dangerous and unpredictable came to mind.

Labyrinth hoisted the prisoner, dragging him closer to Garret.The man’s arm hung at an unnatural angle, and he groaned in pain with each movement.

If the transfusion worked, it would mean staying here longer.It was something we couldn’t afford.I glanced at Axel and caught the faintest spark of hope in his eyes.Then I looked at Marinah and saw the same mirrored in hers.

I couldn’t believe I was giving in.If we were staying here, there was a lot to do to make this rooftop as secure as possible.My mind was already racing through the steps we’d need to take.But when it came down to it, I didn’t hesitate in my priorities.If I had to choose between Garret or Marinah, the decision was already made.

He’d better decide quickly if he was going to fight to live, because we wouldn’t be able to wait forever.

Chapter Sixteen

Marinah

“All we can do is wait,” Axel said, after the transfusion.“We’ll know if he’ll survive in the next day or so.I’ll take a look at the prisoner’s arm.”

If the transfusion worked, the prisoner had saved Garret’s life.I kept my eyes on Garret.A few minutes later, I heard a snap and the prisoner groaned.

I leaned back against the short wall that bordered the roof, my eyes turned to the prisoner.He had wild green eyes, too large for his gaunt, filthy face.With his broken arm and the way Beck had hobbled him, he wasn’t much of a threat.His clothes were ragged, and his skin was caked with grime, leaving little trace of its original color.The swelling on his forehead, a gift from a boot to the head when he’d pulled a gun on Beck and Labyrinth, added to his pitiful appearance.

He stared at me, a strange light in his gaze.“Pretty butterfly,” he finally said, in a hoarse, singsong voice.

King kicked the man in the thigh.“Shut up,” he growled.

My mate wasn’t handling things well.Smythe’s escape and my shifting to human had sent him into full-on royal highness mope mode.The men liked to accuse me of throwing tantrums, but my fits had nothing on King’s when he decided to dive headfirst into a king-sized funk.

Walking a deliberate wide berth around the prisoner, I circled toward him.“I’m heading to check out the lower floors,” I said.“Wanna come?”

It was the best olive branch I had to offer, but when he turned to look at me, I instantly regretted it.His eyes were dark and unreadable, the kind of look that warned me to tread carefully.

“I’ll keep watch,” he said.

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