Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“Motherfucker,” growled Tao. He tightened his grip on Ramón’s broken ankle until the human screamed. Ramón kicked out with his other leg again, but Tao was ready; he blocked the move with his arm and then slammed his fist into Ramón’s jaw.
The human grunted, snarling. He dove for the gun, knocking Tao on his back as he did so and causing more blinding pain to ripple through Tao. Ramón’s fingers brushed the butt of the gun—
Metal screeched as the doors flew open and light blasted into the van, causing Tao to double-blink. And there was his mate. Naked. A bloody mess. And in an absolute rage.
Ramón turned just as she sprung into the van. He tensed, prepared to launch himself at her, but she moved too fast—crashing into him and sending him sprawling flat on his back.
Seething, Riley wrapped one hand around the human’s throat. She wanted to snap his neck. Instead she held him in place—letting him struggle, letting him try to free himself. She might be female and she might be hurt, but she was still stronger than a human. She let him see that for himself. She could see the moment it sank into this arrogant fucker’s brain that he was being overpowered by a woman.
Ramón reached back, curling his fingers around the butt of his gun. Riley sliced out her talons, letting them dig right through his throat—slashing skin, cutting muscle, and severing arteries. She didn’t look away, watched the life bleed from his eyes. Honestly, she was a little annoyed that it had to end so soon. She’d have enjoyed delivering some additional pain to the asshole.
Satisfied he was dead, Riley wiped her blood-soaked talons on his shirt and sheathed them. She then moved to Tao’s side, breaths sawing in and out of her chest. All the rage and bravado left her in a rush as she took in the bloody sight of him, leaving only soul-deep terror. “Oh God, you’re a mess.”
As Tao stared at his mate’s battered body, he forgot his own pain. “Jesus, baby, so are you.” She was covered in rake marks, bites, and puncture wounds—all were deep and bleeding badly. A clump of blood matted the hair at the side of her head, where he suspected there was a massive wound. What worried him more was the blood pouring out of her ear and nose.
“Tao . . .” Her voice shook. Never—not when her parents died, not when Ethan was shot, not even when Dexter was almost taken—had she felt such an incapacitating fear. It was a living, breathing thing inside her. His face was haggard and pale, his heartbeat was much too damn slow for her liking, and every breath wheezed out of him. There were so many wounds, so much blood, and she had no idea what to do. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Don’t panic on me, okay, I’ll be all right. Fuck, baby, what did she do to you?” He could smell Shirley on her.
“When she was shot, the bitch dug her talons into my wing to drag me to the ground with her. Hit my head on a branch as we were falling.” It had hurt like a motherfucker. Still did.
Tao tried to sit up, and his own pain came flooding back. He clenched his teeth, waiting for his head to stop spinning. It was like there was a burning-hot balloon inside him that kept on inflating. He gripped her hand, as if she could beat back the darkness creeping around his vision.
“Tao, you have to hold on for me.”
Her fear pierced him worse than any pain. “I’m holding on. Don’t you worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.” He refused to acknowledge just how badly he was hurt, or that a numbness was creeping in; he would think of her—just her. She’d lost too many people; he wouldn’t let her lose another, just as he wouldn’t let death take her from him.
“It’s okay,” she said, voice still shaky, lying beside him. “Taryn will come. The others will be here any second now. They’ve been following me.” She’d only dropped out of the sky to grab the dead raccoon from the road and, in a moment of inspiration, thrown it at the van to spook the driver.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” he asked. Not only was one of them bloodshot, but her pupils were unequally sized.
Riley blinked, looking at him through blurred vision. “Nothing. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
“You’re lying.”
She was. Pain was blasting through her head, as if someone were taking a sledgehammer to it. If she had to guess, she’d say she had a fractured skull. Her stomach was heaving with nausea, her wounds burned like holy hell, and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. But he didn’t need to know any of that.