Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Noticing Hale’s muscles bunch as if he might make a grab for her, Sebastian flicked up a brow. “Careful. There are bombs planted all over, remember? One push of this button on my cell and boom.”
“You’d be killing yourselves,” said Hale, clearly doubting his word. He shouldn’t.
“You think any of us are afraid to die? We’ve been tempting Death for a long time—he hasn’t come for us yet.” Sebastian took sideways steps over to the armchair on which his pack mate sat. “Wattie, take the phone.”
Obediently, Wattie carefully took it and hovered his thumb threateningly over the screen.
“Davide, keep your gun aimed at the son of a bitch. He moves, shoot him.” Sebastian bent over and roughly grabbed the cat by the scruff of her neck. He immediately jammed the barrel of his gun against the side of her head. She didn’t even have the downright decency to hiss in pain.
Hale tensed, his fists clenching as he visibly wrestled with the urge to rush to her rescue … just as Sebastian had once wrestled with the urge to retrieve his baby brother’s body before driving off. God knew what the pride had done with it.
“Where’s Tommaso?” he asked Hale. “Either you tell me where he is, or I shoot her.”
Hale’s nostrils flared in outrage, every muscle in his body rigid. “You shoot her, you’ll never know his location. I’ll be on you before you can fucking blink.”
Sebastian held back a snort. “Davide.”
His brother fired a bullet into each of Isaiah’s kneecaps, making the son of a bitch drop like a stone.
“Not now you won’t,” said Sebastian. He almost laughed as a rumbly growl of fury slid out of the cat in his grip. Who knew she had that in her?
Davide spit at Hale. “That’s for Samuele. Unless you want more bullets in you, talk.”
Propped up on one elbow, Hale slammed hateful, agony-filled eyes on Sebastian. Blood stained the legs of his jeans, and the smell delighted Sebastian’s wolf.
“Let her go, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” Hale swore, pain coating every syllable.
Sebastian hummed, pretending to consider it. “I don’t think so. She’s the only thing keeping you cooperative.”
“Fuck,” muttered Davide.
Sebastian spared his brother the briefest look. “What?”
“I just saw someone sneak by the window,” Davide clipped. “We’ve been spotted.”
Sebastian inwardly cursed. The pallas cat on the floor didn’t look the least bit surprised. “Did you already know we were here when you arrived?” It was possible. Maybe he was bonded to the black-foot after all.
“Does it matter?” Hale tossed out, lines of agony etching themselves deep into his face.
“No, I don’t suppose it does.” What did matter was that the house was likely surrounded by pride members. That meant that neither Sebastian nor his brother nor Wattie were going to get out of this alive.
Fury zipped through Sebastian, heating his blood, making a tremor run through the hand still jamming the barrel of his gun into the black-foot’s head. If he and his pack mates were going to die, they were going to take Hale and his little bitch with them.
Sebastian shot her point blank. Hale’s head jerked as he felt a ghostly impact of the bullet sinking into her brain. Huh. So they were bonded after all.
The animal sound of pained rage that tore out of Hale was quite something.
Smirking, Sebastian tossed her lifeless body aside like it was trash. The look Hale gave him … oh, he would have flung himself at Sebastian if he could have.
Hale looked as if he’d army-crawl toward her, so Sebastian shot at the hardwood floor in front of him. The pallas cat stilled, his eyes flashing cat.
“You don’t have siblings,” Sebastian gritted out, “so you can’t know what it’s like to lose a brother. But now you know what it’s like to lose a mate. So there’s that. Why shifters are stupid enough to claim mates, I don’t know. Nothing good comes of it. They weaken us. Case in point. And now you—”
“Seb?” Davide interrupted.
Sebastian pressed his lips together. He loathed being interrupted. “What?”
“She’s, uh, she’s still moving.”
Sebastian glanced down. The feline was writhing on the floor, though she made not one sound. Freaky little shit.
He fired two bullets into her flank, satisfied when her body went limp; loving that each one made Hale flinch.
Davide sneered. “Doesn’t feel good losing someone you love, does it? Oh, we know that pain well. Don’t we, Seb?”
“We do.” Sebastian took a lurching step closer to Hale. “I would have snapped her neck like you did Samuele’s. That was my original plan. But I’m nothing if not adaptable. You know, it’s funny, but if you hadn’t—” He stopped talking when his peripheral vision caught sight of her wriggling once more. “What the fuck is with this cat?”
He fired. Again. This time, he aimed at her neck.