Page 19 of Feral Heart
More shots cracked through the night. One zipped past his ear close enough that he felt the air displacement.
Panic for Jamie’s safety mixed with rage at whoever was behind them. His beasts clawed at his insides, demanding to be released, to turn and tear apart whoever dared threaten his elegido.
But Jamie came first.
Always first.
“Don’t let go!” Cesar ordered as he leaned into another sharp curve, the bike tilting at a dangerous angle. His thigh nearly scraped the pavement as they cornered, putting precious seconds between them and their pursuers.
Up ahead, trees gave way to open farmland. In the distance, the dark silhouette of an old barn stood stark against the night sky. Perfect. Cesar aimed straight for it, praying the structure was abandoned and not locked up tight.
“Hang on!” He cut the headlight and veered off the road. Jamie let out a startled cry as they bounced violently over the uneven ground, Cesar’s arm tightening around his mate to keep him secure.
With a controlled skid, he brought the bike to a stop behind the barn, hidden from the road. Killing the engine, he listened intently. The pursuing vehicle had slowed, probably trying to figure out where they’d gone.
“Inside, now,” he ordered, helping Jamie off the bike.
They slipped through a gap in the wooden slats, darkness enveloping them. The barn smelled of old hay and dust, moonlight streaming through holes in the roof. Rotting farm equipment created twisted shadows across the dirt floor.
He guided his swaying mate behind a stack of moldy hay bales then pulled his gun from his waistband.
“Are you okay?” he asked, quickly checking Jamie for injuries.
“I was shot at!” his mate whispered, eyes wide but a lot clearer than before. The danger had burned away most of the alcohol fog. “I’ve never had bullets aimed at me. It’s a scary feeling, pookie. Why are they shooting at us? Did you cut them off at a stop sign?”
“No clue. Stay here.” Cesar checked his ammunition then moved to a broken window before peering cautiously outside. The vehicle—an SUV, he could see now—stopped about fifty yards from the barn. Doors opened and closed, voices murmuring too low to make out words. Two figures were approaching, a third remaining by the front bumper.
Who in the hell were these guys? The hyenas from the alley? Grant, Rowan, and maybe another friend? Cesar really had no idea who those men were. Or they could be enemies of the Salvador pack, which wasn’t a great thought since that would narrow down the list to about one hundred or so people.
But as soon as he had the chance, he was eviscerating them.
“How many out there?” Jamie asked, crouching beside him. He rubbed his eyes, as if willing himself to finish sobering up.
“Three, maybe four.” Cesar positioned himself between Jamie and the barn entrance since his mate couldn’t stay put.
A bullet splintered the wood beside his head, sending fragments flying. Cesar returned fire immediately, two precise shots that had their attackers diving for cover.
“I hate this,” Jamie hissed. “I hate feeling helpless.”
“You’re not helpless,” he assured him, squeezing off another round when a shadow twitched. “You got the message out. That’s what matters.”
“How many rounds you got, jellybean?” Jamie asked, his voice growing steadier despite everything.
Cesar glanced back, surprised. “Fifteen in the mag, one in the chamber.”
His eyes were bloodshot, his breath straight-up rum, but he wasn’t swaying as much anymore. Jamie nodded, face scrunched like he was doing math. “Three guys outside. That’s five bullets each, with one to spare.”
A smile tugged at Cesar’s lips. “That’s assuming I don’t miss, sexy.”
“You won’t.” The confidence in his voice warmed something in Cesar’s chest.
More shots rang out. Glass shattered—probably the windows high in the barn walls. Cesar popped up and fired three times, rewarded by a pained yelp from outside.
“Got one,” he muttered, ducking back down as bullets whizzed overhead. One down, maybe. Two to go.
Whoever they were, he would make damn sure he and Jamie walked out of here alive. Cesar tried to scent the air, to figure out if they were shifters or humans, but the smell of the barn and gunfire made it impossible to tell.
Movement behind him made him spin around. Jamie was crawling across the dirty floor toward an old workbench. The fuck?
