Bailey Bradford - Southwestern Shifters 08 - Revenge (14 page)

Piper is, or if he has a chip on his shoulder.”
“We don’t know, but I will find out.”
Marcus shifted as the bodies came into view. He
waited for Nathan and Keegan to join him. When they shifted, he told Keegan, “Call Zane,
check on them. Call Ryder, back at the compound, get a hold of him some way. I want him to
get on the PA system and announce the death of Dirk and his…whatever they were.” Marcus
would not call them guards, not when they had in some way contributed to the slaughter
before him.
He took Nathan’s hand and turned his head to look at him. “Thank you, for doing this
with me.”
It was a sign of Nathan’s own mourning that he didn’t snipe. “I will always be with
you.” They began to walk, saying silent goodbyes to each guard. It was the hardest thing
Marcus had ever done, the most painful.
When they reached Bon, he couldn’t stop tears from escaping. Nathan sobbed quietly
beside him. The young shifter had been funny and smart, a treasure to have as a guard. He
had grown up in front of Marcus, going from an awkward kid who was more elbows and
knees to a strong, fine man.
Marcus squatted and brushed Bon’s eyes closed, keeping his hand there for a moment.
“I’m so sorry, Bon.”
There were eight guards altogether who were dead there by the trees. Marcus thought
there were eight, but—“Nathan!”
Nathan, who was still beside him, scrubbed at his eyes. “What? I can’t see any more of
this, Marcus. It’s—”
Marcus dropped to his knees, bringing Nathan right along with him. “Her chest
moved.” Sissy was covered in blood, but Marcus put his head to her chest, and there, he
heard it, the faint but steady beat of her heart.
“Keegan! Get over here!” he yelled. Keegan would need to stay with Sissy until they
could get her medical care. Marcus searched her body and found the wound at her side. She
didn’t appear to be bleeding a great deal, which could mean either the wound wasn’t bad, or
the bullet was lodged in such a way as to prevent loss of blood. Now that he was watching,
he saw her chest rise and fall in gentle, steady waves. He thought, if she got care soon, Sissy
would be okay.
There was loss, great, soul-tearing loss, but with that flutter of a heartbeat, Marcus
found some hope.

Marcus was alive, and Nathan too. Dirk had come there, brought a team of murdering bastards with him, all because he’d somehow found out Marcus was unhappy about him ruling South America. Marcus had been damned right, because Dirk hadn’t had an honourable bone in his body.

At least Marcus had survived fighting him. Ryder felt relief at that, but he couldn’t imagine what they must be feeling. He’d heard that Sissy and Bon were among the dead, and he wanted to scream at the unfairness of life. Marcus was counting on him to get the news out that Dirk was dead, though, with the hopes it would cause a ceasefire.

If it didn’t, Ryder hoped the guards that had just left to go hunting would end the cease-fire in a different way. Regardless of the outcome, he knew whoever was shooting at the compound was dead.

Ryder turned and scowled at Maarten. “You aren’t supposed to be getting up.” “Fuck that.” Maarten stood, wobbled, and Ryder was right there, helping him stay upright. “Thank you. I’ve had enough of that bed. Would you kindly get me some clothes, or would you prefer I remain naked when I follow you out of here?”
“I’d prefer you stay in bed,” Ryder muttered, but he knew there was no point in arguing. “Sit, at least, before you fall. I’ll have someone bring you something to wear.”
They’d been taken to a small interior room used for storage. Other shifters were in larger rooms, filling three of them. Ryder and Maarten had needed somewhere more private in case there were decisions to be made that no one else needed to hear. They had to settle for the small room beside one of the ones filled with residents. The guards could only be stretched so far.
Ryder opened the door and spoke to Bowie, who in turn sent someone after sweats and a shirt for Maarten. Shania appeared as if by magic, coming out of the room beside theirs and glaring. “Did I just hear you ask for clothes for Maarten? Is he up? He’d better not be up.”
“Hello, Shania,” Maarten called out from behind him—not nearly as far behind Ryder as he should have been. Ryder sighed and Maarten shuffled up to lean against him. “Did you come to admire my body?”
Shania rolled her eyes. “Save the joking for another time.”
“I wasn’t joking,” Maarten informed her. “You take my clothes, and don’t give me so much as one of those awful gowns. What am I supposed to think?”
“That you are supposed to stay in bed.” Shania gestured. “Let me in so I can check him over.”
“Bowie, where’s that portable PA? Shouldn’t I have had it already?” Ryder asked.
Bowie looked down the hall. “Casey said he thought it was in the outbuilding by the utility room door. He was the last one in charge of inventorying those buildings, so I let him go after it.”
“Outside?” Ryder clarified.
“Sir, it’s just a few steps—” Bowie began.
Ryder cut him off with a sharp gesture. He didn’t want to send someone to check on Casey when they were so shorthanded. “As soon as whoever gets back with Maarten’s clothes, you and I will be taking a walk.”
“Yes, sir.” Bowie gulped but didn’t say anything else. A guard with hair slipping out from her braids came running down the hall.
“Clothes, sir,” she said as she handed him the wadded-up sweats and shirt.
“Thank you, Tabitha.” Ryder was glad he remembered her name. He was a jittery nervous mess on the inside, but trying not to let that show. “I’ll be right back, Bowie.”
Ryder really hoped Casey hadn’t been shot or hurt. He didn’t like the guy at all, but Casey had already lost his position with the guards, and he’d lost Maarten, too. Ryder had calmed down enough to not blame Casey or Maarten for having sex. He’d been wanting to go prowling himself before he’d met Maarten. It didn’t mean he’d ever be buddies with Casey, though.
“Maarten, here are your clothes.” Ryder set them on the bed. “I’m going with Bowie to see why Casey hasn’t returned. Shania, please help him dress if he needs it.”
Maarten grabbed his hand. “Don’t go. In the movies, what happens when the guy goes to investigate someone missing? He gets killed.”
It might have sounded silly, but Maarten’s fear was very real, flowing into Ryder. “This isn’t a movie, sweetheart,” Ryder assured him. “We are going to look out the utility door peephole. I’m hoping Casey is just taking shelter in the outbuilding, or that he didn’t leave this one yet. Someone could have stopped him and asked for help. The guards were still finding stragglers.” Rounding up all the shifters was easier said than done.
“I want to go,” Maarten began, but Shania threatened to give him a sedative if he argued.
Ryder was glad for her support, but didn’t care for the threat. It was an odd situation to be in. He put it aside and gave Maarten a kiss, despite the pout Maarten was putting on. “Please, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Fine,” Maarten said.
“But if you get hurt, I will never let you go off without me again.”
“Okay. I agree to those terms.”
Ryder kissed him again, lingering just a little before pulling back. “We’ll return shortly.”
Bowie kept pace with him as they rapidly strode towards the utility room. The silence was occasionally shattered by the
thud thud thud
of bullets on cement. No one else was about, and it was so strange because there should have been people, kids, going about their lives.
But some people had lost their lives today, Ryder reminded himself. He hadn’t forgotten, but he tried not to dwell on it. Time to mourn would come when everyone was safe from the shooters outside.
Ryder opened the door to the utility room.
“I’ll look,” Bowie said but Ryder stopped him with a hand to his arm.
“No, I seriously believe I can look through a goddamned peephole.” He proceeded to do just that. “Which way am I supposed to look?”
“To the left, sir.”
Everything was distorted, but Ryder didn’t think he saw anything that could be part of a human or wolf body. “I think the door to it is open.” It was hard to tell. “I’m going to open this one and peek out.”
“Sir—”
“Bowie,” Ryder snapped, turning to give the guard a stern look. “It has to be done, and I’ll be the one opening the damn door. I suggest you let me get on with it.”
Bowie glanced away. “I just didn’t want you to be killed, too, sir.”
Ryder immediately felt like an ass. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he was in a rush. “Bowie, Marcus and Nathan are alive. I don’t know about anyone else, but remember who we do have left, not just who we’ve lost.”
“Yes, sir,” Bowie whispered.
Ryder unlocked the bolts and slowly opened the door a fraction of an inch. They lucked out that the door opened like it did, because with that little crack he was able to see that yes, the outbuilding door was open, and Casey was indeed in there, holding onto a man who had orangeish hair. Bullets pelted the outbuilding sporadically, but Ryder could see where there were several bullet holes by the door.
“I think Casey can’t leave, and who is that guy he’s with?”
Bowie edged up beside him. “I…I don’t know. He’s bleeding, whoever he is.”
Ryder squinted and saw that there was blood mixed in with that orange hair. “So he is. Do you know Casey’s phone number?”
“I believe he had to turn in his phone when he was relieved of duty, sir.”
“Shit.” Ryder pulled the door open a little more. “Casey! Are you hurt?”
Casey jerked like he’d been jabbed with a cattle prod, turning startled eyes to him. “Nno. He is.”
“Bad?” In other words, could they stay holed up a while longer?
“I don’t know. He’s unconscious. His head,” Casey said. Then he tipped his chin up. “I’ll bring him.”
“Wait,” Ryder began. But Casey had to prove himself, Ryder figured, after having been stripped of his job. “Bowie, provide cover.”
“Yes, sir. You’ll need to move.”
Ryder stepped back and Bowie moved into position. He fired off several shots as Casey ran, the unconscious redhead in a fireman’s hold. As soon as they were inside, Bowie slammed the door and locked it. There was no return fire, Ryder noticed.
“He’s mine,” Casey said, standing with a defiant look on his face.
Ryder knew he was frowning, but he couldn’t help it. “Don’t you think he might have some say in that?”
“No.”
And Ryder got it then, as Casey added, “He’s my mate. I found him in there, hiding, starving, dirty, scared. He screamed and tried to run but fell and hit his head. He’s alive, he’s hurt, I need to get him to Shania.”
“You do,” Ryder agreed, finding a reason to smile in this shitty day. “Come on.”
He couldn’t help but notice the unconscious man’s state. Wearing only a tiny pair of torn, filthy shorts, he had scars in various stages of healing all over his scrawny body. Ryder felt sympathy for the guy. Someone had hurt him, often and badly.
“Go on ahead and get Shania, Bowie, or send her this way.” Ryder’s phone chimed and he read the text from Nathan. “Aidan is fine, Zane has bullet burn, which I guess is like being nicked?”
Casey grunted. Seemed like a yes to Ryder.
“Two other people are injured.” The rest of the text let him know that Marcus, Nathan, Aidan and Zane were all shifting and coming after whoever was still firing on the compound. Ryder texted back letting them know he’d sent a group of guards out as well.
“I didn’t know, you know,” Casey said a minute later as Shania came sprinting down the hall. “And I deserved to be reprimanded, and fired, even.”
Ryder nodded. They were squared away. Casey had learnt from his mistake.
“Who’ve we got here?” Shania asked.
“Someone Casey found outside in the building the portable PA was in.”
Shania clicked her tongue and began checking for a pulse. “Bowie’s with Maarten and Tabitha. I don’t think Bowie trusted Tabitha to keep Maarten in the room.”
“I—” The sound of increased gunfire shut Ryder up. Windows shattered under the assault, and he knew the shooters had got past the cement fence. “Shit! Get to safety.” He called Bowie. “You heard it? Where are the guards I sent out?” They wouldn’t have their phones on, but the security team was tracking them.
“I fucking can’t believe we’re under attack again!” Shania cursed some more as she led Casey and his mate down the hall.
Ryder heard more windows shattering behind him. He turned and looked in that direction, then froze as an ominous sound reached him. It was a groaning, and it reminded him of the times he could remember using a crowbar to break into buildings.
Karma
, he thought, but he’d never shot a gun, and certainly never killed anyone with one.
He couldn’t let the intruders get to the shifters gathered—they were essentially one big easy target. Ryder began running and talking. “Bowie, they’re breaking in! The utility room, I can hear them tearing the door off!” He shoved the phone in his back pocket and hauled ass towards the room. If he could get there before they got the heavy steel door off, he had a chance of keeping them out. Somehow. He’d figure it out when he got there. At least the door would protect him from bullets.
Ryder ran into the room and slammed himself against the door as it creaked and rattled. “Your sorry fucking Alpha Anax is dead,” Ryder shouted. He refrained from adding that he intended to take over in Dirk’s stead. That would likely make the shifters on the other side fight harder, as they’d know he would kill them.
He was going to anyway. Ryder grunted and shoved at the door. From the other side, weight pressed back against him. “No fucking way,” he growled, his muscles aching.
“Scoot over,” Bowie yelled.
Ryder did immediately, and soon there were more bodies than just his and Bowie’s keeping the door in place. Someone moved over a washer, and shoved it against the door, then a second was added, and a third, until eventually the door was held in place with washers and dryers braced against each other to the opposite wall.
“Good thinking,” Ryder told everybody. He scowled at Maarten, who leaned against the last appliance as if he were just relaxing rather than weak. Ryder knew better. He also knew the time for defence only was past. “Maarten, I’ll be back.”
Maarten’s eyes rounded. “Ryder—”
“No. I mean it, I need you safe.” He didn’t kiss Maarten, because he’d be back, damn it. “Bowie, Tabitha, take care of him.”
More windows were knocked out, shot out, and Ryder was done waiting. He pulled off his clothes. “Who is with me?” he yelled, giving Maarten a pointed look that clearly said,
not you
. He couldn’t have Maarten out fighting, injured as he was.
The shouts he got in answer almost deafened him. Ryder grinned and shifted. It was time to put this siege to an end.
Over a dozen shifters ran with him as he headed for the east side of the compound. The guards had gone out that way, and obviously they’d either ran into trouble or were still stalking, which made no sense.
One of the pack shifted and opened the door for the rest of them. Ryder had his answer about the guards. They were pinned behind a building not twenty feet away as someone fired at them repeatedly. He might have known that had he checked with security.
As it was, he darted out of the door and prayed to any god or gods that might listen to him, and asked for no more deaths from Marcus’ pack. They’d lost too many that day already.
Bullets tore into the ground around him, kicking up sand and rock. Ryder lowered his head and zeroed in on where he thought the shots were coming from, but changed his mind. He wouldn’t lead any of these shifters to their deaths, not if he could help it.
Ryder veered left, around the other side of the shed. It gave him and those who followed him some shelter, but he didn’t stop there. Instead he kept running, farther away, to the back side of the property. Gunfire from that direction derailed his plan and he spun to his left.
Just then, a scream from the other side of the fencing cut through the racket of the guns being fired. A bone-chilling howl followed, and Ryder knew Marcus had arrived.
Leaving that group to Marcus and those with him, Ryder took aim at the ones around back. They were the same ones that had tried breaking in, and as far as he could tell, they were now using the outbuilding—a shed—Casey had been in for cover.
That was going to be their downfall. Ryder ran to the third shed from them and shifted. “They know where we are, or were, headed.” The shooters couldn’t see them as they were behind the outbuilding, which only had the front door to it and no windows.
“We could circle around,” one older man said. “One of us should have carried a gun.”
“They aren’t shooting now,” someone else whispered. “As many bullets as they fired already, maybe they’re out.”
“Maybe that’s why they tried breaking in,” said a young woman, her eyes lit with excitement.
Two maybes, which weren’t the greatest odds, but Ryder was going to take them. “I’ll shift, and hope I can outrun a bullet if we’re wrong.”
But Ryder wasn’t as quick as the young man who shifted while Ryder was still talking. He turned into a small black wolf, and he ignored Ryder’s hissed command to stay.
“Damn it,” Ryder muttered, impressed despite being disobeyed.
“He wants to be a guard so bad,” the young woman said.
“Let’s hope he lives to.” Ryder watched the black blur. When the wolf came around the front of the outbuilding, no gunfire greeted him—but six huge wolves did. “Shit!” Ryder was shifted and on the run, a pack, sort of, at his heels.
The little black wolf was already bleeding, but he wasn’t backing down or cowering. Ryder let out a challenging growl, drawing the attention off his pack member.