Page 39 of Revenant's Fire

“Shit! There are only eight of the fuckers,” Gallows growls, narrowly missing a Sinister Wolf.

“There’s not enough to take the clubhouse,” Mercy adds, taking measured shots at the Wolves in the treeline.

Realisation slams into me. They’re stalling us from getting to Sunny.

“Rev!” Gallows barks over the sporadic gunfire.

I shake my head once. “Pastor! Bring the pickup around! Brake, you’re with me! Coyote, Hush needs a medic STAT.” They all hustle at my shouts.

All except my Prez who searches my gaze before tipping his chin. “You good?”

“I’m done choosing.”

“About fucking time. Bring our girl back.”

Coyote skids to a stop beside me, his hands covering the wound on Hush’s shoulder as I pull away. Pastor Richards fishtails the pickup, kicking up a little gravel as he brakes, forearm resting on the window.

“Plan?”

“You lead, I’ll keep them off your ass!” I yell, legging it to my girl.

Throwing my leg over I fire her up, her throaty roar soothes me like a fucking balm. Brake pulls in next to me, dipping his chin.

“Sunny, we’re coming, baby.”

Chapter Nineteen

Sunny

So, it would seem that it’s impossible to hit a bitch in these new fandangled cars.

“Fuck you, Sunny!” Bubbles screeches as I rev the engine on this fancypants car I found the keys in.

Chasing these two down has been a lot more strenuous than I thought it would be. First, they took one look at me and then high tailed it out of the garage. To be honest, after that little conversation with Amos Crowe I was pissed. Double pissed. Whatever the word is for super-sized pissed, that's me. Then they led me on a wild goose chase around Winlaw until I stumbled onto a Tesla with the keycard in it. On the upside they can’t hear me coming. On the downside, it has some hard wired safety feature that keeps dodging my human targets.

“Sunny! Please! I’m sorry! They threatened my mom!” Split all but sobs as I get closer to collecting his ass on the hood.

“Yeah? And you threatened my mom’s kid!” I yell out the window.

“Wh-what?”

“Me, you simpleton!”

My foot presses harder on the gas, the car jumping a little as it kicks up a gear. Excitement fizzes in my gut as I get closer. I ignore the lights flashing on the dash telling me I have a weasel shaped man on my radar, choosing to speed up a little more.

“That’s it,” I mutter to myself, “Just a liiiiittle mor- Mother fucker!” The car swerves at the last minute and instead of hitting Split dead on, I clip him, his scrawny body flying off to the side.

I let out a long growl, slowing the car to a silent stop before hitting the stupid steering wheel with my palm. “Whose side are you on!?” I bark at the dash, then flip it the bird when it tells me I’m distracted and should take a rest.

Groaning to my right has me remembering that I hit one of my targets, and I still have one to go.

“Sunny? Is that you?”

My head snaps to the left, Mrs. Feffercorn peering into the car at me. “Oh, hi Mrs. Feffercorn! How are you today?”

“Oh, you know, can’t complain,” she says, waving a hand at me. Split groans again and both our gazes move in that direction. “Is that the Smith boy?”

“Oh yeah, I heard he fell off his bike. I was just picking him up to take him home.” I paste a huge smile on my face so she’ll buy it. Or be somewhat unnerved by it.