Page 73 of Depraved
I’d been about to put a ton of restrictions on the outing, but she’d already beaten me to it and covered the bases. No shifters anywhere nearby. Two alphas in another car for security. Her mom had to be with her. Jonah had to be there because he’d recognize the signs of heat. She’d covered all of it, and I thought that meant she was being mature. And cautious.
But it was a fucking lie. A set-up. I realize why she did it. Sheknewthat psycho was after her.
My goddamn fucking omega.
We’re descending in the chopper, but with the wind, I’m still stuck a hundred and eighty goddamned feet in the air, and she pulls this shit?!
My wolf growls
I want to punch the motherfucking window of the chopper out, but that won’t help a thing.
A million thoughts race through my head, and I use my mind link to bark at Pluto.
What the fuck is going on?
Thomas and friends showed up. And I’m not talking about a damned talking train.
Fuck.
We’re outnumbered. Can you call for backup?
Why the fuck didn’t you reach out to me before? Did they get her? Are they in there?
Kinda fighting for my life here. Goddammit, you just earned me a broken nose!
I click out of that mind-link and then link with several other elites as I pull the address up on my phone. I rattle it off to them inside my head, telling them to get there and be ready to fight. I want to throttle Pluto, but he has to live long enough for that to happen.
My wolf appears in front of my eyes, his avatar tense, his fur raised. His instincts say that Elena’s text isn’t a lie.
“Change of plans,” I tell my pilot through the microphone on the thick helmet I’m wearing to block out the noise of the rotors. He was trying to get to my house across town, where there’s a landing pad. But we aren’t going there anymore. I give him my phone so he can type the dress shop’s address into the GPS.
Goddammit, Elena.
And Pluto.
And everyone.
My fingers dig into the cloth seats as the chopper turns. I’ve never been a patient man, but waiting right now? While I know my mate is near a psychopath? Every heartbeat feels like the ticking of a clock counting down to a motherfucking bomb.
When the pilot finally hovers over Bella’s Bridal, the bird tilting precariously because of the wind, I yank off my helmet and slide across the seat. I pull open the door when he’s still twenty feet above the roof. Landing will take too long, and I’ve waited long enough. I duck my head and jump from the chopper.
The wind immediately smacks me across the face, like it’s berating me for leaving my mate unguarded. I’m berating myself.
I monster out in midair despite the fact that it’s mid-afternoon and anyone looking up could see me. Damage control can come later. Right now, I don’t give one solitary fuck about what humans think. That psychopath is after my mate. And while I don’t think he’ll kill her right away, he’s the kind of twisted lunatic who likes to torture his toys before he beheads them.
I don’t want to think about what he might be doling out instead of death.
When I land on the flat roof, I feel the impact all the way up my spine. Motherfucker.
I don’t dwell on the way my ankles feel a little like pudding because I’ve got another drop to get to. I run for the edge of the building.
In the parking lot out front, there’s utter chaos. I see shifters monstered-out and fighting on the middle of the asphalt as humans emerge screaming from the stores and run away. Several cars squeal into the lot, and more of my elites morph and join the fight.
My blood pumps furiously from the urge to join them, but I don’t. My fight isn’t outside. Not yet. First, I need to check on my girl.
I mind-link with Pluto, who’s currently got a wolf’s head between his claws, slamming it repeatedly against the trunk of a car.
Where is she?I growl through my thoughts.
