Full Blooded

But she wasn’t focused on me at all, her eyes were directed ahead of us, scanning for the next threat.

Some help you are.

As Rourke continued to drag me farther down the alley, I tried to reason with him. “Let’s start this again, Rourke. I think we’ve made a mistake here. I need to get back to my Pack—”

He turned on me in a flash, snarling, his face inches from mine. I flinched, my back pressed against the brick wall of a building. “I already told you I’m not playing around here. If your Pack is at war, who do you think they’re fighting against right now?”

I hadn’t been expecting a question.

“Um … I’m not exactly sure, but most likely the Southern Territories …” I finished lamely.

“Right on the nose, sweetheart. So at this very moment your city is flooded with more werewolves than you can fight on your own, and more than I can fight while I babysit you. So our only real option is to get the hell out of here, and we’re wasting precious time talking about it.” His breath was laced with cinnamon.

I bristled. “Babysitting me was your choice, not mine, and it’s not a mandatory position, by any means. You can let me go anytime you’d like. Then you’d be free to go back to whatever place it is you came from and we can forget this whole thing ever happened.”

His eyes glittered with emotion. “No.”

“Rourke,” I breathed. “Just let me go.”

He studied me for a long moment, his face so close to mine I started to squirm. He opened his mouth to say something, and then, just like that, we were back down the alley again, him pulling me along like a child.

He led us across a few streets, ducking and dodging through parked cars as we went, finally slipping between another pair of buildings. There were no streetlights here. It appeared to be a delivery space with a narrow path leading out to the other side. There wasn’t more than a sidewalk space between the two structures. Rourke was too big for us to walk side by side, but he had no problem tugging me behind him.

“Rourke, where are we going?” I whispered.

“To my bike.”

I knew he wasn’t talking about his bicycle.

He meticulously scanned every building around us as we went, scenting the air continually. I was scenting too. Every once in a while I caught a whiff of werewolf in the air, but it was never too close. They should be swarming us. “Rourke, why aren’t they out here?” I asked. “We should be covered in angry Southern wolves. They should’ve been all over the building when we came out.”

Rourke glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes completely green. They glowed like two emerald pools in the dark. “Either your wolves were keeping them occupied, or something else is going on here.” He sniffed the air and his brows creased. “I don’t like it either. It’s too easy. Something is off. It doesn’t feel like a full war, they’re looking for something.”

I tested his grip on my arm again, and earned a low growl in response. “Keep it up and I’ll put you back over my shoulder.”

We emerged from between the last two buildings onto a frontage road and slid quietly along the deserted storefronts, making our way down the street. This place was familiar. It was the last block before the neighborhood dead-ended into the train tracks across the street, which were down in the culvert, and it was exactly how you’d expect it to look. A long line of old, run-down buildings, most of them vacant, and had been for years. On the other side of the tracks the highway overpasses looped off into the distance. No more neighborhood.

Down the street in front of us, I spotted a lone motorcycle parked on the sidewalk pushed tightly into an alcove against a shuttered storefront.

“How’d you get from here to the bar without being seen tonight?” I asked curiously.

“I’ve been here since yesterday. Slept on the roof of the bar and came down through the fire escape.”

“That’s one way to do it.” Tricky cat.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. Once I gave you my name, I knew your Pack would stake out all the strategic locations, but this isn’t one of them.” He pointed. “Up ahead is a dead end, nowhere to go but back the way we came.”

“If we’re trapped, how are we getting out?”

He nodded toward the giant culvert. A rusty chain-link fence separated the tracks from the neighborhood, not doing much to keep people out. Grass and dirt ran until about halfway down and then the ground changed to old, broken concrete.

“The old tracks? And how exactly are we getting down there?” There weren’t any real crossing points for about a mile and a half in either direction.

“We drive, sweetheart.”

“Huh?”

Shouts broke out behind us. Rourke tightened his grip on my arm and started jogging us forward faster. We were almost to a vintage Harley-Davidson when I wrenched my head behind me right as a runner flew around the corner, shouting a curse over his shoulder.

Ohmygod. “Tyler!” I screamed.

He slid to a stop, his eyes blazing full gold. His shirt was ripped and stained dark.

“Is that blood all over you? Are you hurt?” I yelled, struggling to get loose, but Rourke held me fast. “Tyler, answer me!” Then I turned back. “Rourke, let me go!”

Tyler started racing toward us. “Let her the f**k go, cat!”

Rourke tensed for a fight, his muscles tightening under his jacket, but he didn’t yield his grip on me.

Before Tyler could get to us, a U-Haul truck swerved around the corner behind him. His attackers, it seemed, had hitched a ride. The truck slammed on its brakes with a tire-squealing screech, sliding the whole van sideways, cutting off the road completely.

Dead end in front of us, U-Haul full of Southern wolves in back.

“It’s a goddamn trap!” Rourke roared. “Get on the back of the bike.” He yanked me against my will the last few paces to his bike and tossed me at it while he jumped on from the other side, flipping the kickstand up and starting it with a roar. “Get on the bike. Now!” he yelled over the noise of the engine.

I didn’t move and Tyler closed the gap between us in two strides, grabbing on to my arms. “What the hell’s going on? Why did you leave with him?” I could see him processing what Rourke had just said.

“James decided to trust him,” I told him quickly. “And Dad backed him up. Rourke took me out of the bar fight and brought me here.” I left out against my will, because Tyler could see the scenario as it stood. My father was likely still occupied with his own battle or the wolves would be updated on my whereabouts, or at least who I was with, by now.