The shifter I’d dropped to the floor grabbed Casey’s ankle and jerked him to the ground. He twisted, and Casey’s ankle popped. My cousin unleashed a slew of curses that shocked even me and blasted the shifter with a stream of fire.
The shifter howled with pain as fire cascaded over him. His ski mask went up in flames, and the skin on his face sizzled off. I gagged from the smell of burnt flesh and polyester. He scrambled to his feet and charged out the door in a blur, followed by the other.
“You little sissies! Come back and fight!” Casey yelled after them.
Clutching my stomach and gagging from the aftershock of the mace, I got up and dragged Casey to his feet. “Come on, we can’t let them get away.”
He flinched and hobbled on one leg. “Are you nuts?”
“Probably, but this is a chance to nab one of these bastards. Let’s go!”
I hauled him outside and down the stairs. His ankle was swollen, and I had to brace him the whole way. Luckily, the guy at the front desk was still gone. I hoped he hadn’t been offed by the attackers.
Unless he was working with them.
“Keys!” I held out my hand and shoved Casey into the passenger seat. He rolled his eyes and tossed the keys to me, but as I started for the other door, I froze halfway around the car.
The three shifters who’d ambushed us were lurking across the stre
et, their ruddy eyes on me. Fear and anger gripped me, each fighting for control. The one that Casey had fireballed strode toward us. His skin looked like it was almost healed, and I shivered.
These monsters were unstoppable.
Casey rolled down the window and held out his hand with a ball of fire floating above his palm.
The shifter paused, and then all three scrambled for an Oldsmobile parked on the side of the road.
Casey’s fireball soared through the air and exploded on the pavement beside them, knocking one of them on his ass. The glass of the nearby storefront shattered with the blast.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled as I jumped into the front seat of the RAV-4 and turned the ignition.
The shifters scrambled into their car and tore down the road, weaving across the street.
I gunned it and raced after them.
Casey grinned at me, one hand holding the oh-shit handle. “Preparing the barbeque. I’m hungry for some shifter steaks.”
“And I’m the one who’s nuts? You are a certified wacko, Casey.”
He was having way too much fun, and I was pretty sure that blowing up shit in the pack’s territory was a no-no.
There was going to be hell to pay.
20
Jaxson
“And what about the Traverse City pack? Will they sign the deal?” I asked, thumbing through the papers on my desk.
I was working late because every other pack around was trying to squeeze my balls, and the LaSalle woman was eating up my time—even when she wasn’t around.
Why couldn’t I get that damn woman off my mind?
I couldn’t believe that she’d had the gall to break into my shop to steal her car. Her boldness and utter disregard for my authority were infuriating.
“They’ll sign if you agree to give them a ten percent share,” Barb said over the line.
Sam and Regina raised their brows at me. Clearly, that was too much, given that we were taking all the risks hauling black market car parts over state lines.