Page 65 of Bent Out of Shade
The minion trained his gun on Tom’s buddy next, the one with the shaved head.
A muscle ticked in the targeted man’s jaw—his only recognition that his weapon was still holstered and he was basically fucked.
Track Suit Minion motioned for the lone Hastings Mill member to get onto his knees.
I eyed the sports car, running the odds of getting to it undetected to search for Sabrina while the men were preoccupied. Cold? Yes. But it was the only place she could be, and two gangs set on offing each other wasn’t going to keep me from finding her.
Shaved Head lowered himself slowly as a motorcycle zoomed into the lot and skidded to a stop.
Harley whipped off his helmet and jumped off the bike.
Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I yanked Emmett further down behind the bushes even though there was no way the Ohrist could see us.
Harley thrust out his hands and blasted a wave of light magic at the other humans, who covered their eyes.
The skin on BTS’s face turned red and raw. He gave a pained exhale, fumbling for his weapon, which he immediately dropped as his hand bubbled into a mass of ruined flesh.
A train whistle and the rattle of cars from the rail line that ran through this part of East Vancouver didn’t drown out the anguished cries of Harley’s victims, all of whom were incapacitated by the light, though only BTS was being barbecued.
“What do we do?” Emmett whispered.
These men weren’t innocent. Their deaths would improve society, and I had to locate Sabrina. Still, I hesitated before I grabbed the syringe from Emmett’s hand, hissing at him to stay put, and skirted the shadows along the far edge of the parking lot, determined to get to the sports car.
A wolf’s howl rent the night. It was the cry that villagers wove stories about when safe behind thick locked doors, while still speaking in whispers, desperate not to draw that attention their way.
Harley flinched, his magic dimming for a precious moment.
Shaved Head whimpered, and even I broke out in a cold sweat, reassuring myself that Laurent wouldn’t hurt me.
Harley whipped around, firing balls of light into the darkness.
BTS fell to his knees, his burned arm hanging uselessly at his side. The minion propped his shoulder under his boss’s shoulder, half dragging him to their vehicle.
A banging sound started from the trunk. Still invisible, I sprinted toward it, keeping one eye on the action.
Shaved Head pulled his weapon. His hand trembled at the wolf’s next howl, but he raised the gun to the back of Harley’s head and—
The trunk flew off the sports car and hit the concrete halfway across the lot.
Something blurred past me, and by the time I spun around, blood arced from Shaved Head’s throat.
A vampire licked red streaks off her fingers. Her suit was tattered and filthy, her blond hair was matted, and her green eyes bore a crazy glint.
Eyes that I’d seen flash in triumph on the news.
Sabrina Mayhew.
The gasp that punched out of me felt as loud as an explosion.
Track Suit Minion almost dropped his boss, and even Harley visibly trembled, his light magic flickering and dimming.
Sabrina swiped a finger through the blood, sucked on it, then kicked the body aside like a bottle containing a cheap vintage not up to her standards.
I swallowed a scream.
Swearing loudly, Track Suit Minion dragged his boss to their car.
Laurent tore out of the darkness, two hundred plus pounds of lethal muscle and emerald eyes that burned with an unholy fire against his white fur.
