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I watched as he gave instructions to Sally and told her to take the side entrance and leave. She rushed from us, confusion and fear warring for dominance in her pale blue eyes.
Howie held out his hand. “Best of luck, Austin Derek Holmes. I hope we see each other again someday.”
“Under entirely different circumstances,” I joked.
“Agreed.”
I waited until I heard his car pull away and leave the lot. He didn’t take his fancy Mercedes but a second vehicle registered to his mistress. Smart. Howie always covered his tracks well, which was one of the reasons I used his services.
The club had a lawyer on retainer. We used Gil Thomas, and he was worth every cent. He’d helped us on numerous occasions. If I had any other option, I would have obtained Gil’s skills for the documents Howie had procured for me, but the need for secrecy trumped my loyalty to Gil.
After checking the windows, I left the quiet office, ensuring no one lingered outside. The property seemed deserted as I sat on my bike. Pulling on my gloves, I started the engine and eased her out of the parking spot, turning toward the road.
The rumble of multiple bike engines alerted me to trouble before I could rise off the seat or head back inside. When I saw the Dirty Death MC cuts, I knew Undertaker must have followed me. But how?
My crow swirled above my head, circling the area as he cawed at the men who approached. I sensed his apprehension and concern. I’d come alone against the advice of my V.P. My club would be pissed.
Undertaker, his V.P. Chronos, and several other members blocked my exit as they pulled in, forming a row of six bikes. I wondered how they found me. I left no trail. I’d made sure no one followed. How was this fucking possible? And what did the asshole want? To threaten me again?
I opened my mouth to speak when the strangest scent caught me unaware. A smell that resembled decay and something sinister. Above my head, my crow rattled his throat. Kraaa!
Undertaker’s grin spread wide as our eyes met. “Yes. You sense it. Good.”
What the fuck was he? And his club? Fucking wolves? How the hell did we miss this? How did they conceal it?
“You should know I’m no ordinary Alpha. The vargulf has taken leadership over my pack.” He pulled a gun, aiming at my heart. “I want to rip you apart and feast on your organs. I need you to feel the same pain I felt when you killed Fang.”
Chronos and the other DDMC snarled, growling at Undertaker’s words. I’d stolen a life. Taken the Alpha’s son from his father and the pack. I deserved to die for my crime, no matter if it was an accident or not.
“You’ll know the agony I feel when your children die by my hand. I will slowly bleed them out as I let the vargulf consume them.”
No!
“But you won’t be here to witness it.”
I blinked as Undertaker ticked his chin at Chronos.
There was nowhere to run, and I wasn’t a coward. I’d die like a fucking man on my bike. But it would suck for my kids. Gunned down in the middle of the afternoon. Not a witness to see what happened. My last breaths on this earth leaving my chest with worry and regret.
Chronos reached inside his cut and grabbed his gun. The barrel pointed at my chest. I kept my eyes open, staring my enemy down as he pulled on the trigger. In defiance, I lifted my chin higher and went for my weapon.
It was a futile effort.
I never counted how many bullets it took to knock me from my Harley—more than three. I jolted with every impact. Dark red blood oozed from the wounds as my back met the asphalt. Strangely, I didn’t feel much pain.
Maybe I was in shock.
Undertaker laughed as my crow lost his shit, attacking the vargulf. He shredded the skin on the left side of Undertaker’s face before taking to the sky, cawing loudly. More crows joined him as they assembled for a mobbing.
Engines thundered as the group left the parking lot, and I heard sirens. Help would never arrive in time.
I felt my essence fading and the crow’s panicked chortle. Our bond would sever, and he would be forced to fly alone until his last breath, never bonding to another member of my club.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to choke as I sputtered on my lifeblood. “Crow. Abigail.”
I promised Laurel if she took on a new identity and left Nevada, I would keep our son safe. I’d break that vow with my death. Crow would be too vulnerable and furious.
And with my murder, my son would be forced to hunt down the Dirty Death MC and kill every last one of them. The club, my children, Laurel, and the crows would never find peace as long as the vargulf and his pack hunted on our land.
