Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

I hit one guard with a knockback. Adam slammed him in the chest with both hands, scorching through his shirt and leaving the man screaming. The second guy lifted his gun. I hit him with an energy bolt, but I wasn't trusting it to work, so I backed it up with a kick. The guy went down. I grabbed the guns--plus another one that Lucas had kicked my way--and got them in the storage room.

Our end was clear now, but I didn't need werewolf hearing to pick up the clomp of boots running toward us.

I looked at Adam. He was breathing deeply--his bruised face red from pain and exertion. I glanced over to where Elena, Clay, and Lucas were taking on three guards.

"I'm okay," Adam said. "I'm using my powers more than my fists. Not sure how long it will last, but I'm good for--"

A guard came flying around the corner. Only one this time. I dispatched him with two knockbacks in succession, letting Adam take him down and disarm him.

As Lucas passed another gun to me, he called, "The ultimate goal, I believe, is to get out of the building. We can't disarm every guard and--" He kicked one who'd begun to rise, his foot striking him in the side of the head and sending him to dreamland.

"These guys won't stay down forever," Elena said. "Retreat it is." She looked both ways, then pointed in our direction. "Go that way and--"

Two shots from inside the meeting room. The door crashed open, falling off its hinges. A guard inside started firing. We dove for cover. A yelp from inside the room. Then a grunt. I couldn't see through the doorway, but Lucas hit someone with a spell. Clay barreled in. I followed and saw Sean getting up off a guard caught in Lucas's binding spell. Clay knocked the guard out.

"We have to go," Sean said, running toward us. "Now."

I looked around. Josef had left, presumably through the rear door. There were medics tending to the blinded guards, and one was bent over Thomas's body. Sean gave one last look at his grandfather, then pulled his gaze away and straightened.

"We have to go," he repeated. "Josef will call in every guard in the city to make sure we don't leave this building."

"We need to split up," Elena said. "Clay and I will take Savannah."

"Good," Sean said. "Smaller groups will attract less attention." He took out his key card and handed it to me. "Use this. All-access pass."

"But you need--"

"I can get us out. You're the one they really want to stop."

He quickly told us the safest route. Then we took off through the rear exit.

ELENA

Elena tried to brush a loose lock of hair from her face, only to find that it was plastered there by blood. Damn it. She touched her forehead and found the spot. Just a cut. There likely would be a few more war wounds joining it by morning--bumps and bruises and aches--but nothing serious. She glanced back at Clay. He was rubbing his right arm. The old zombie scratch acting up, as it always did after a fight. Otherwise, he seemed fine. Good. Now, to get them all to safety.

Yet another mission gone to hell. That seemed to be par for the course these days. Damn the Cabals. Damn Benicio, too. Especially Benicio. Oh, sure, just walk into Nast headquarters. Tell them she wanted to watch the proceedings. So what if they're a rival Cabal? So what if she is a werewolf? So what if they'd taken Savannah captive on a trumped-up charge of treason. There were rules about these things and the Nasts would follow the rules and let her in.

Bullshit.

Why is it when things go to hell, people still expect others to follow the rules? Any werewolf knows better. When it comes down to raw survival, rules are the first thing to go. It's teeth and claws and every wolf for himself and his Pack. The Nasts would protect their own, and they'd made it very clear that Savannah was not one of their own.

Damn Benicio. Damn herself, too, for listening to him. Hadn't she learned her lesson after that colossal fuck-up at the warehouse? When Savannah and Eve wanted to infiltrate the group, Elena hadn't liked it. But after consulting with Jeremy, she agreed that the risks were acceptable, as long as they got in and out as fast as possible.

Then Savannah texted to say they were joining a mission to Atlanta. When Clay heard that, his reaction eloquently summed up Elena's own. Hell, no. It wasn't just a gut reaction this time. It was experience. As Alpha-elect, she knew a few things about leadership, and if this Giles was letting new recruits join a critical mission, he was panicking. A dangerous situation. Lucas had to pull them out now. Adam agreed wholeheartedly.

Elena knew she could have persuaded Lucas . . . if she'd been able to get in touch with him. But she was only able to reach Benicio, and he'd brushed off her concerns and then it was too late to intervene.

And now they were here, running for their lives, as the Nast Cabal imploded around them.

Elena bustled Savannah through the board room to the rear door. She put her ear to it. Booted feet thudded down the main hall. Someone yelled, "The stairs! They're taking the stairs!"

"Are you sure?" someone else called. "Those ones are locked."

"I'm sure. There's a burned hole where the handle used to be."

Savannah whispered, "Decoy damage."

In other words, Adam had burned it intentionally, to make everyone think they'd gone that way. Good.