Page 132 of Break Out the Girl

Shit. We’re completely stuck.

No, Wait.

Tally.

He and Ludo are outside. They can attack from behind. I try to send him a mental message through our bond as more unknown figures appear in the clearing. Not just men, there’s also a couple of dog-things, and two giant, and I mean giant, bears.

“One more step,” the man holding Sky snarls, “One spark of magic, and this brat’s life-blood is gonna pour.”

47: TALIESIN

I’m on the farthest side of the perimeter when a white-hot spike of terror strikes me straight in the center of my chest.

Rory.

My wolf form pivots mid-stride, and I twist, bounding back in the direction of the trailer. What the fuck now?

As I tear into the final stretch of the orchard lane, the wind changes direction and I smell them.

Shifters, strangers, violence.

A savage snarl slips out as I immediately hunker down onto my belly, creeping forward slowly. Where is Ludo? That silent giant had morphed into a motherfucking minotaur. Could do with his giant fists right about now.

But he’s not here, so I’m on my own.

The wind is coming from the east. That’s good, the intruders can’t scent me. Still, I need to be cautious—even though all I want to do is go and tear throats out.

Slinking closer and closer until I’m on a small rise, still downwind, I finally get a partial view of what’s going on.

Basil, that brave, stupid kid, is face-down in the mud, seemingly unconscious. Right above him is a massive, nine-foot bear. It looks almost prehistoric.

Even as I watch, it begins to shift. The coarse, matted gray fur recedes, bones cracking until a tall, brutal-looking man stands in its place. He has dark, greasy hair and a jagged scar that completely bisects across half his face, pulling his lip into a mocking sneer.

Regan Fucking Grieves.

The Grieves family line has been in Ashgrave for decades, each newest generation getting more and more degenerate. Doyle Grieves moved from brothels to trafficking, obviously in league with that Carol Wingfield hag.

Scum. All of them.

And now desperate and on the run. And when a man runs out of options, he’ll do anything to survive.

“We just want the girl,” Regan bellows as he gestures to where Sky is being held with a blade to her throat. “She’s street trash, so let us take her. Why throw away your lives for a stray? Give us the girl and we walk.”

Nobody moves on the trailer porch. Rory is standing dead-still, but I can sense her air-magic vibrating. I can’t read Cosmo, London looks like he’s seen a ghost, but François? He’s planning.

Thank fuck.

My gaze turns back to Sky. It doesn’t make sense. Why are they so desperate for that skinny, parentless girl? Now I come to think of it, even pulling her from Quo was…extreme.

“You’re out-numbered and out-muscled,” Regan barks, looking around the clearing with an ugly grin. “And totally surrounded. One word from me, and my men will level the place and all of you with it.”

Is that true?

Sniffing the air deeply, I track the scents. There are four men with automatic weapons in the clearing with Regan. And in the treeline, another bear shifter, a hyena and a wolverine. Plus a beast high up in a pine that I can’t identify.

Nine.

Trying to work out my next move, I focus back on the trailer in time to see François stepping back into the main body of the double-wide. What’s he up to?