Delilah Devlin - My Immortal Knight 04 (10 page)

“Sweetheart, I’ve half a mind to lock you in the trunk while we answer
the call.”

“Do you really think that will hold me?” she said, her voice dripping
sweet sarcasm.

“Fuck!” Max turned into the parking lot that flanked the boardwalk
along the beach. He killed the engine, hit the trunk latch, and bounded out of
the car.

With light shining from the streetlights above and the pale lamp from
the trunk lid, Max and Joe strapped on their web belts and slid percussive
grenades into metal loops. Almost in unison they drew their Glocks and
depressed the buttons on the sides of their weapons to eject the clips with the
standard issue bullets. From an ammo box, they drew clips with the special new
issue—silver-filled bullets.

“What about me?” Pia asked as she peered into the trunk from behind
Max’s shoulder.

He stepped on the bumper of the car and reached beneath the hem of his
trousers. He pulled out a gun and laid it in her palm.

“Don’t I get ammo, too?”

“It’s already loaded with what you need.”

He watched as she drew back the barrel and pressed the button to drive
it forward again. Satisfied she knew which end of the gun she held, he reached for
the flak jackets. He offered one to her.

“Uh-huh,” she said, shaking her head. “I might need to move fast.”

Max continued to hold it out. “You’ll wear it, or I’ll hog-tie you and
strap you to the steering wheel.”

Pia’s eyes narrowed, and her lower lip jutted out.

Max lifted one brow.

“Oh, all right.” She swiped the flak jacket from his hands and shrugged
into it.

Max assisted, closing the Velcro tabs.

She scowled ferociously. “If one of those puppy dogs bites my ass
because I couldn’t get away fast enough, you’ll be hearing about it.”

Max leaned down and put his forehead against hers. “Baby, no one’s
biting your ass but me.”

“Promises, promises.”

Max found himself grinning as he heard Pia mutter beneath her breath.
He made quick work of his own jacket. When he finished closing the fastenings,
he glanced up to see Joe staring, a one-sided smile quirking his mouth.

Max wiped the smile from his lips. “Not one fucking word from you,
partner
.”
The last piece of equipment he donned was the headset. He slid it over his
head, lowered the thin microphone wand to his lips and flipped the switch.
“Phil, we’re in the parking lot. Where are you now?”

“In back of the bar. We’re going in through the kitchen.”

“We’ll take the front door. I’ll give the signal when we’re ready.” Max
spared a glance over his shoulder to make sure Joe and Pia were wired in. Then
he climbed the steps to the boardwalk and loped toward the bar.

“I’m taking the rear,” Joe said. “I’m not getting in front of Pia while
she’s waving that gun around.”

“Scared, Joe?” Pia asked, her breath even despite the pace.

“Spitless, sweetheart. Quentin told me the whole story.”

“Huh! Betcha he didn’t tell you everything. Quentin’s a pussy.”

“I heard that!” Quentin’s voice broke over the channel. “Tell me that
walking disaster doesn’t have a gun.”

“Quentin!” Pia said, her voice filled with aggravation. “That was four
years ago. I’m quite the markswoman now.”

“So long as it’s someone else’s ass you mark, my dear.”

Max was glad when the Piki Tiki’s bamboo awning came into view. The
vamp banter was making him ill. That hint of history between Pia and Quentin
pricked his jealousy. He halted at the corner of the building and held up his
hand. “This is the way it’s going down. Joe and I’ll go through the front door.
Pia, you’ll cover us from the window.”

“I’m awfully glad I’ll have the pots and pans to duck behind,” Quentin
said. “I’m coming through the kitchen with Phil.”

“When I count three, Pia will start laying down cover fire.” Max swung
around to stare hard at Pia. “You are up for this, right? You weren’t
exaggerating your skills.”

“She’s the real deal, Max,” Joe said. “She has the training. But she
did shoot Quentin in the ass.”

Max snorted. “Well, that’s no sin in my eyes.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Quentin said, his voice wry.

Pia rolled her eyes. “Showtime,” she said softly, holding Max’s gaze.
Then she shook her head.

In three shakes, all traces of the soft, sexy kitten he’d held in his
arms half an hour ago were gone. In her place stood a vamp with long curved
incisors. As he watched, her forehead changed shape. The bones beneath her skin
shifted outward, growing until she was unrecognizable—except for the chocolate
shade of her eyes.

Her lips curved into a maniacal smile. “Some men only worry about what
their girlfriends look like without their makeup.” Her voice was deeper, with
an odd, gruff inflection.

Max winced. “Why are you the only one donning a mask?”

“I’m only partway transformed. I need the extra muscle.” She held up
her arm. “Wanna feel?”

Max shook his head. “So long as you keep your monster reined in, I
don’t care. Come on, Joe.” He strode to the side of the building, and peered
through the window. The scene inside was chilling.

Three wolves in various stages of transformation had half a dozen vamps
and a human bartender trapped in a corner. A dark-furred wolf, still walking on
two legs, swiped his claws at a male vamp, shredding his clothing and drawing
four bloody lines across his chest. The vamp screamed through a row of jagged
teeth and charged, wrapping his arms around the wolf to lift him off his feet.

The pair crashed to the floor and rolled. But the wolf quickly gained
the advantage and opened his jaws wide to close around the vamp’s throat. With
a shake of his powerful shoulders, the wolf separated the vamp’s head from his
body and the vamp exploded into a dark cloud of dust. His clothing floated to
the floor.

“Bastards,” Pia whispered beside him.

“They’re just doing what’s natural,” Max said, giving her a steady
stare. “Offing vamps.”

Pia turned her head and lifted her upper lip, baring her fangs.

“Not your best look, baby.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to impress you then, hmm?”

Max turned his attention back to the interior of the Piki Tiki bar.
This place had quite a history—a long association with the vamp scene well
before they came out of the closet.

He hoped the owner had good insurance. The bar was trashed. Tables were
overturned, chairs lay in splinters, attesting to the battle that had raged
inside. Broken glass sparkled like diamonds on the tiled floor.

A wolf with golden fur circled in front of the group huddled in the
corner, snapping and snarling. Suddenly, he faced off with the vamps, lowering
his head until it nearly touched the ground. A rumbling growl built in his chest.
Each time one of the vamps looked ready to answer his challenge, he neatly
corralled him back like a dog herding sheep.

The vamps returned the rumbling, snarl for snarl. However, they soon
didn’t attempt to step outside their corner. It was a standoff, with the golden
wolf in the superior position. His pack mates had only to wait for him to cull
the vamps from the herd, one by one.

“I hadn’t realized they were so goddamn big,” Joe’s whispers came
through the headset. He still hovered behind Pia at the end of the building.

“How would anyone mistake them for dogs?” Pia said in her odd, gruff
voice. “They’re all monsters, but that gold one’s the worst. He knows what he’s
doing.”

Max agreed this wolf was a bigger danger than the others. His actions
were calculated, intelligent. However much he might empathize with these
wolves’ lust for vamp blood, they weren’t discriminating about what they
chomped on. They’d kill humans just as quick. “We better move now,” he
whispered, and gave Pia a final look. “Make your shots count, baby. The head or
the chest.”

Pia nodded and crouched beside the corner of the window, her weapon
held steady in both hands.

He ducked beneath the window so the occupants within the bar wouldn’t
see him as he sped toward the entrance. At the door, he counted, “On three.
One, two, three.” As gunfire erupted from the front and back of the bar, he
shoved open the glass door, tossed a grenade, and rolled into the room. When he
came to his feet, he aimed and fired at the golden wolf just as the grenade
exploded, shattering more glass and distracting the wolves momentarily.

His first shot struck the wolf in the shoulder. The wolf staggered back
and then shook himself. Rather than doing the expected and charging toward Max,
he leapt into the air, bypassing Max. In a second bound, he broke through the
large plate glass window, landing on the boardwalk outside.

Max had only a moment to spare a thought for Pia, before a dark-furred
wolf crashed into him.

He rolled with the beast, struggling to bring up his gun.

The wolf clamped his teeth over the shoulder of Max’s flak jacket in a
bone-crunching grip and shook his powerful head.

Max flailed, helpless for a moment, and then clutched the fur at the
wolf’s neck. All his strength focused on raising his gun. He pressed the barrel
beneath the wolf’s jaw and pulled the trigger.

In a spray of blood and gray matter, the wolf crumpled on top of Max.
He shoved it away and struggled to his feet.

Joe and Quentin battled the third wolf. By the looks of things, Max
almost felt sorry for the beast. In the close confines of the bar, the vamps
had forgone their weapons for hand-to-hand combat. They wore their vamp masks
and traded blows and bites with the wolf. The muddy brown wolf was quickly
losing the fight. Blood streamed from his mouth and nose, his chest heaved.

Max swung back to the window and realized Pia’s weapon was silent. With
a roar of anger, he ran to the door and jerked it open. The boardwalk was
empty.

His heart thudded. The wolf had taken Pia—might already have destroyed
her. But which way had he gone?

“Pia! Can you hear me?” he shouted into his mike. He stood still,
trying to separate the shouts and sounds of fighting inside the bar. Then he
heard it—feminine gasps. She was hurt and scared, but she was alive. “Baby,
hold on. I’m coming.”

The streetlamp barely illuminated the beach beyond the wooden planks.
The shadows hid the wolf’s tracks. He jumped over the railing onto the sand
below.

They could be anywhere. He had to find her. But first, he needed to be
able to follow the scent of the wounded male.

Max’s hands stripped open the Velcro fastenings, and he dropped the
jacket to the ground. He ripped at the rest of his clothing and equipment until
he stood naked beneath the lamplight.

Please don’t let me be too late.

Pulling strength from the glare of the full moon, Max let the
transformation come over him in a rush powered by his anger. His teeth slid
from the roof of his mouth. His face stretched, the bones cracking as they
reached outward. Then he dropped to the sand as his body lengthened and fur
sprouted from his skin. Within seconds he caught the musty scent of the male
wolf—and the acrid smell of a woman’s fear.

Max, the wolf, leapt from the boardwalk onto the beach and followed the
trail of the other male’s scent. Lost was Pia’s name. Only a vision of a
dark-haired woman with soft skin and round, wide eyes shimmered in his mind to
match the scent. His strides stretched as he neared them, the woman and the
golden wolf, and a deep-throated roar broke from him.

The golden wolf spun to face him. He held the woman by her torso, his
large jaws clamped over the black covering encasing her upper body. The wolf
was a powerful, potent adversary—and this close his scent was…familiar.

Weakened, the woman beat the golden wolf about the head with her fists,
trying to dislodge his powerful jaws.

The dark wolf lifted his head and howled. His mate was in danger.
Another had attacked what belonged to him alone. Fur lifted on his shoulders
and back as he stalked toward the rogue wolf.

Pia gasped in agony. She figured the enormous wolf that held her had
crushed every rib along her right side. Why he hadn’t killed her outright? He
could have so easily. Sure he’d go for Max inside the bar, she’d stared
transfixed with horror when the wolf broke through the glass and landed beside
her.

When he’d swung toward her, she hadn’t time to raise her weapon before
he was upon her. In the attack, she’d lost her weapon, and could only offer a
feeble defense once he’d crushed her side with his enormous jaws, preventing
her from taking a full breath. Then he’d lifted her and ran into the darkness
while she flailed like a rag doll.

She’d thought he took a bullet in the shoulder, but the wound didn’t
seem to slow him. Obviously, someone had missed the two vital organs that could
have brought him down. But why hadn’t the silver bullet affected him? She
wondered if perhaps it had passed through him, and therefore the poisonous
affect of the silver hadn’t had a chance to do its work on his body.