Bound to Shadows (Riley Jenson Guardian 8)

Fear surged and for a moment I couldn't even breathe. Then I grabbed the handle and flung the door open. In my haste to get out I forgot the seat belt and it snapped tight, almost choking me.

I cursed, undid the thing, then climbed out. The road was awash with wrecked vehicles and dazed people getting out of cars. Ahead, the truck had found another victim. A black car had been turned onto its side, and the truck was hitting it again and again, rolling it over and over. There was blood on the windshield, and the back half of the car was crumpled almost beyond recognition. No one could survive such a mess . . .

Suddenly, what I was seeing hit.

That black car belonged to Quinn.

"No!" The scream was wrenched from my throat. I flung myself past the door and ran down the road. I couldn't lose him as well. Not like this. Not in some stupid, senseless act of violence . . .

Something sharp hit my arm and I stumbled, whacking against the road hard, skinning my hands and knees in the process and grunting in pain.

I swiped at the thing in my arm and realized it was a dart. A goddamn hunting dart. "What the fuck?"

I reached for it, but my vision was suddenly blurry. The dart became two, then three, then all of them danced away. I swore and tried to get to my feet, tried to keep running, to get to Quinn and to stop the truck, but my legs wouldn't obey me.

The world was spinning; my mind was spinning. Everything was going around and around, until I just wanted to throw up.

"Well, what have we got here?" The voice was rich and somewhat arrogant. It was also far too familiar.

Blake.

The Alpha of the red pack. The man who'd made my childhood hell. The wolf who'd sworn revenge for the humiliation I'd dished out to him not so long ago.

Kye had warned me Blake was planning his vengeance, and yet despite that, I just hadn't expected he'd act this soon.

He moved toward me, his bulk filling my vision and his gait oddly erratic. Like something was wrong with one of his legs and he couldn't put much weight on it.

"You'd better hope you haven't killed the man in that black car," I croaked, blinking desperately to gain some clarity in my vision.

God, I just wanted to close them. To rest.

I jerked them open instead. There were fading bruises and almost-healed scratches all over his face, an indication he'd been in some sort of accident recently.

Shame he didn't die in it, my inner wolf snarled. It would have saved me the trouble.

Though I couldn't help wondering what had happened - and whether it had been an accident, or someone's attempt at retribution.

"Oh, he's dead, have no doubt of that," Blake said. "The car doesn't even resemble a vehicle anymore. "

Fear leapt into my throat, my heart. I didn't want to believe him, but I couldn't feel Quinn. Not in my mind, not in my heart.

He couldn't be dead.

He couldn't.

Boots invaded my vision. Shiny brown boots. I swiped a hand across my eyes and forced my head up. Past the boots and the medical uniform, until Blake's blunt features swam into view. His silver eyes glinted with pleasure and his expression was victorious.

"I will kill you, Blake. " Though the words were shouted inside my head, they came out as little more than a croak. "And if I don't, the Directorate will. "

"Oh, the Directorate can only legally kill me if I kill you. And I don't actually intend to kill you. That would be too easy. The person I intend to kill will be someone else entirely. "

Which made absolutely no sense. I licked my lips. The sick fear churning my gut seemed to be sweeping through the rest of me, sapping my energy. My arms and legs were quivering with the effort of holding me upright, and it was all I could do to not collapse.

"Don't you dare go near Rhoan," I spat, "or I'll fucking erase you and every one of your goddamn sons from this earth. "

"Oh, I have no intention of killing him. Him being unable to find or save his sister will be punishment enough. "

He gave me another sharklike smile. "And you, my dear wolf, won't even remember who you care for, let alone who I am. Hell, you're not even going to remember who you are.