Page 89 of Hunted

“You bastard,” Ellie shouted from behind them, only to start choking on a mouthful of blood. “Don’t, River. He can’t make you do this.”

Damn my beautiful girl. Shot in the gut, and she was still trying to save me. Even if it got her killed.

“If you fail to choose,” Rossi said, a cruel smile playing at his lips, “then they both die. Five.”

Hayden glared back at me, cool violet eyes dark and defiant. No doubt remembering the last time I’d been forced to make such a choice, the day when we’d stood in Guillermo’s audience hall and she’d been the only one with the guts to challenge my uncle on his bullshit, to say that her sister was more important than pack law. I’d been the coward that day, and Ellie had paid the price.

“Four.”

I forgive you.

I inhaled sharply at Jori’s quiet voice in my head. My gaze snapped to hers. Our eyes held, tears streaming down her cheeks as she strained to avoid the tip of the blade pressed to her throat. I thought of the conversation I’d pulled from Ellie’s mind.

They see me as a means to an end. The vampire witch and trained bodyguard who will put her life on the line to save yours if it comes to that. But I do not doubt for one second that neither River nor Fallon would stay behind to save me if Matteo Rossi stormed the building, and I were trapped inside.

This was it. Endgame. Checkmate. And Jori had signed on to protect my mate knowing full well she would likely die doing so. She expected the very worst of me. And why wouldn’t she? What reason had anyone, vampire or shifter, given her in two decades of being relegated to the lowest levels of society and servitude to believe otherwise?

“Three.” Rossi was practically gleeful at this point. “Make your choice, River. I’d hate to have to shoot both of them.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

I closed my eyes, pressing against Jori’s mind. She flinched, not understanding, but after a second’s hesitation, dropped her mental shields.

I rewrote a single memory. There wasn’t time for anything else. Tears dribbled down her cheeks. Hard to blame her. I’d shown her what appeared to be her death as she plummeted over the edge of the dam.

“Two.”

Out of time.

Jori’s eyes snapped open.

Vampires didn’t trust wolves. We’d hunted them until their numbers were barely half of what they’d been at the turn of the century, fighting to end the practice of blood slavery that was destroying the wolf packs. The Blood Wars had been costly to both sides, with no winners. Just when a truce had been called, the humans were poised to wipe us both from the face of the earth.

For half a second, I thought of trying to rip Hayden’s guard free from Rossi’s control, then immediately dismissed it. It wouldn’t matter if I did. Hayden could have been half dead and bleeding from four gunshot wounds and she still would have dragged herself across the platform to try to stake Rossi through the heart. She wouldn’t leave her sister. Not while there was breath left in her body. The only way I was getting Hayden Crowe off that platform was dragging her off, kicking and screaming. And she’d probably claw my eyes out as a thank you.

I reached for the mind of the werewolf holding Jori. Rossi’s hold on his mind was tight. I drew moon energy, pouring power into the connection. Rossi’s hold broke. He blinked. I wiped his memories of the last two hours. It was a sloppy job. I would pay for it later.

“One.”

The gun lowered fractionally. It was enough.

With one last look at me, Jori threw herself off the side of the dam. Ellie and Hayden screamed. Rossi swore in Italian, firing wildly after her.

“Fucking bitch,” he screamed. Turning, he shot the werewolf who’d been holding Jori twice through the head. As his body toppled over the spillway, Rossi kicked me savagely in the stomach. I doubled over, gagging onto the walkway.

“You’re a monster,” Ellie spat. “Let him go.”

“A monster.” Rossi’s eyes were a feral gold. “How naïve. You have no idea the monsters you’ve allowed to be created right under your noses, those who hoard power and control you without even earning the slightest objection. Your Alphas. The corrupt werewolf leadership. Hero or monster is only in the eyes of the beholder. One son grows up with wealth and privilege, the legitimate heir to a powerful bloodline. A hero, they call him. The acknowledged chosen one.”

I tilted my head. “This is a lovely melodrama, but does it have a point?”

His expression darkened. “A second son is more powerful than the first, but in shapeshifter society where bloodline and pack are everything, his father’s refusal to claim him causes his pack to shun his family. Tell me, which of these is the true monster, the son who has to fight for everything he’s ever earned, or the privileged brat who works for nothing, and whose indiscretions are quietly swept under the table?”

“When did Guillermo find out who you really were?”

Rossi laughed. “So the golden boy finally figures it out, my father’s dirty little secret that he’s gone to such great pains to hide.”

Behind him, Hayden inhaled sharply. Ellie looked far too pale from the blood loss, but not particularly surprised.