Page 23 of Broken

Chapter 10

Ireland looked up at him for one last moment, tears forming in her eyes. Then she turned away, picked up her bag, and walked out the bedroom door. She was really going to go.

He stood, numb and frozen, watching her.

It doesn’t matter,he told himself. In a few days, she’ll be just another victim we saved. We never know what happens to them after we set them free. Not our business, not our problem.

When she passed out of sight, Cole had to hold onto the edge of the table to keep himself from following her. Instead, he watched on the security monitors as she opened the front door and walked out.

He thought she would leave without looking back—he would have—but at the last moment she turned and raised her face to the camera.

“Thank you again for saving me,” she said. How did she know he would be watching? She added, “I hope—” but she didn’t finish. Maybe she didn’t know what to say.

And then she walked away.

Cole felt like a light had gone out of the room. Her scent lingered, growing cold, like that promise of warmth and home was receding with her.

But that had only ever been in his head, anyway.

He kept watching as she walked down the front path to the gate in the fence, and opened it. She passed through the wards, leaving their circle of protection.

Out in the world, vulnerable. His wolf wanted to howl.

And then every municipal worker in the cul-de-sac stopped what they were doing and raised their heads, all at the same time.

A prickle went down his spine. Danger.

The workers’ images quivered, ever so slightly, like mirages rising off hot asphalt on a summer day. For a second he could see their Retriever forms, and then they looked human again.

Fuck. They’d known she was here, but they couldn’t get in. Sometime while he was asleep, they’d replaced the real road crew and set up in the street. Gods. How could he have been so stupid?

Cole grabbed up his loaded weapon and ran at full speed, out the front door and down the path. He got to the gate just as Ireland sensed the danger and froze.

One of the ‘workers’ grabbed a rope off his belt. His image glitched like a bad holograph, and for a second Cole could see the lasso—just like the one he’d destroyed last night. The others pulled ordinary guns, aiming them at him.

Cole dove through the gate, hitting Ireland with all his weight. As they slammed into the asphalt, he twisted, putting his body between her and the creatures.

He felt a ripping blow to his leg, then they were on the ground. He continued the motion, rolling to his side and spraying the creatures with gunfire.

One fell; the others took cover. “Come on,” Cole said, reaching for Ireland. “Back inside.”

He grabbed her arm and went to get to his feet.

He couldn’t.

His right leg was numb, paralyzed. He looked down, and saw the torn cloth and flesh across his thigh where bullets had ripped through it, shattering the bone. Blood was pouring out.

For a moment he just stared, disbelieving.

There was more gunfire, sending up clods of dirt in front of them.

Ireland pulled the gun he’d given her and shot back, and then tugged at his arm. “Can you stand?”

He shook his head, still in shock.

“Then shoot, dammit!”

He shook himself, firing at the creatures, keeping them pinned behind the cover of their truck, his mind racing. Plans. Strategies. What to do now.