The five that remained standing all paused and stepped back from the wild beast.
Would it be enough? Would their assailants retreat? Trent hoped so, but it wasn’t looking good.
Then, one of the men changed, his body shifting and popping into a lean, hungry wolf. Trent had just seen Lana change, but the sight still seemed impossible.
He didn’t have the luxury of time to process what was happening, though, because immediately, the wolf lunged at Lana. Knife-like fangs sank into her, and together, the bear and wolf fought in a lethal embrace. Trent watched in shock while they twisted and kicked and snapped their teeth.
The fight was quick and dirty. The wolf twisted its neck to tear at her flesh, but Lana used her weight to her advantage and slammed the wolf against the unforgiving dirt beneath them, incapacitating him.
The bear roared as though asking who was next.
Maybe it would be enough. Perhaps she could really save them. But Lana licked at her wounds, and the soft gesture of pain twisted at something in his chest. She wasn’t invincible, and there were still four more to fight. One of them crouched, already shifting.
Lana was a blur of motion, but the man had already changed. He danced through her heavy blows with lithe feline grace. Stripes painted themselves down his back, and Trent swallowed hard. A bear could take a wolf easily, but a tiger?
The tiger leaped directly for her throat, and she blocked it, slicing at him, barely nicking the tiger’s massive shoulder.
She might not win this.
I have to do something.
Lana told him not to help her fight, and he could see why. He couldn’t turn into a bear. He was just a human, absolutely helpless against a wolf or a bear… let alone a regular human with a gun.
Wait, the engine died, but we still have our phones.
He could call for backup. He fumbled, looking for his phone. When he finally unlocked it, he searched his recent calls. He didn’t have Meghan’s number, but he had Nick’s.
As the phone rang, he watched Lana continue to fight the tiger. She seemed to be holding her own, but for how long?
“Hello?” Nick answered.
“Nick, it’s Trent. We’ve been run off the road, and we’re surrounded. Lana, well, Lana is a bear now, and she’s fighting men and wolves and tigers, but I don’t know if she can do it on her own. I don’t have—”
“Drop me a pin,” Nick instructed. “If I have your location, I can send Meghan and our team out there right now. And Trent, don’t be a fool. Stay locked inside the car and let Lana do what she needs to.”
He didn’t bother telling Nick that Meghan probably already had their location, and he hoped she was already on her way. The thing was, he didn’t know how far away she was from them. How much time did they have left? How long could Lana fight… could she take them all out?
Nick hung up, and Trent sent the location pin, then clenched his shaking fists. Lana still fought, and it looked like she might have taken two more down, as only the tiger and one other man still fought her.
His assumption proved wrong, though, when the passenger’s window beside him shattered, and an arm plunged into the car and then yanked him out.
The broken glass cut him all over and embedded into him. He tried to struggle, but his legs were spaghetti, useless, and shaking.
Something cold on his neck communicated exactly how screwed he was.
A knife.
Fuck.
If he survived this, he would never be unprepared again. If he survived this, he was chasing every one of these fuckers down and tearing them limb to limb.
Blood seeped against his shirt, the red pool of blood confusing him at first. Where did all that blood come from?
Trent swayed on his feet. Only the cruel grip of the man behind him kept him upright. The man’s blunt nails bit into the skin of his bicep. Trent struggled against him just for the spirit of resistance, but it didn’t really matter how hard he fought back.
“Sorry, buddy,” the voice carelessly apologized as he tossed the knife to the ground. “It’s nothing personal.”
Trent tilted his head to the side as he stared at the knife. It, like his shirt, was also red with blood.
He wasn’t going to survive this.
His throat was slit.
He grappled with the reality while the two men beat him as though the knife wound wouldn’t be enough. His chest and his abdomen shook from the force of the blows, but it was nothing but ice to Trent. He longed, absurdly, for a blanket and a cup of hot tea. How often had he overlooked the small pleasures in life, like sitting across from a crackling fireplace, safe and cozy on a cold evening?
He was having difficulty adjusting his eyes. Trent blinked and squinted, but they still drifted toward the headlights around him. His entire body had separated from his control, and the longer the blood poured from his wound, the more time it took to wriggle a finger or tilt his head.
The light blurred and bled into a bright white light. Ah, shit, this is that tunnel I’m supposed to avoid. His eyes closed, but the light remained. It was all he could see.
I’m dying.
His murderer’s hands clutched at his shoulder tight before flinging Trent to the ground. The bite of the dirt and rocks beneath him was distant, a slight itch against his cheek, even though he knew if it had happened at any other time, he would have been doubled over in pain.
He barely registered the two sets of feet running away from him, and the next thing he knew, he heard his name being called by the most beautiful voice he’d ever known.
“Trent!”
His name. He thought he heard his name, but everything was so far away. Maybe it was just a memory.
His last thought before he slipped away was of Lana.
Strong, willful, wonderful Lana.
He’d left her alone, after all, hurt and outnumbered. What an utter failure he was.
They were probably dying here together tonight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LANA
Lana could hardly stand the horror she felt when she saw Trent drop. She’d done everything she could to ward off the attack—she knew that—but she still failed him.
The world began to move in slow motion. Trent dropped to his knees first, then fell backward.
Blood seemed to be everywhere.
The attackers must have assumed they’d accomplished their goal and killed Trent because while she stared, momentarily frozen, the remaining four gathered up their own dead and scurried away like the cockroaches they were.
You cowards. You can’t even face me!
She would have killed the last of them if she hadn’t also been compelled to run to Trent. She shifted back into her human form, hitting her knees as she kneeled next to him.
She quickly yet gingerly assessed Trent’s wound; it was clear she needed to do something right away. A thick pool of blood was collecting on the ground near his neck, and every breath he took was laced with an awful gurgling sound.
With no idea what to do, Lana flew to the car, grabbing her phone and calling Meghan. At the same time, she threw on some clothes and found towels she could use to try to help Trent in some way—try to stop all his blood from leaving his body.
“I need you,” Lana exclaimed when Meghan picked up. “I need you to get here now. It’s bad.”
“We’re ten minutes away, kid. Tell me what’s going on.”