He lowered his head just enough to whisper, “I love you.”
Her fingers tightened on his arm.
“Whispering your good-byes?” Vidal sneered.
Matthias moved.
His fingers tightened on the trigger, fire erupting into the night, as he threw Grace into the shallow ditch, then twisted and jumped in behind her, his gunfire still lighting the night, as he pushed her to move.
He could smell the blood behind him, but he could also hear Vidal’s enraged screams. Matthias pulled Grace up the small gorge rather than running down it. Just ahead was a stand of boulders. If he could reach it, he might be able to hold them off long enough for Jonas to make it.
He had felt the answering vibration at the back of his watch against his wrist moments before. Jonas was on his way, and he wouldn’t be too far off. The locator on the watch only sent out a short-range signal. He wouldn’t have been able to detect Jonas’s reply unless he was within range of the watch’s tracker.
He pushed Grace behind the boulders, cursing as bullets rained around them. He pushed her to the rocky ground, moving to a crack between the boulders, and began shooting back.
A slender hand jerked the Glock remake from the holster at his thigh. Sensing her intent, Matthias quickly shrugged the ammo pack from his back and prayed she knew how to use the weapon.
“Grace, if anything happens to me…,” he growled back at her.
“Shut up and keep shooting. Nothing’s going to happen to you.” Her voice was shaking, terrified.
Matthias sighted a coyote soldier moving in closer, using the trees for cover. He gave the bastard one last chance to stay in place, and when he moved, Matthias fired.
One down, but there were more. And they were smarter about keeping cover.
“Jonas is on his way,” he told her. “We just have to stay in place and stay alive. We’ll be fine.”
“Of course we will.” Her voice was weak, thready.
The smell of gunfire filled the air, as Matthias continued to fire into the darkness, praying he would get lucky.
“Four, you’re making me angry,” Vidal called out. “You know I’ll punish the woman for this.”
Amazingly enough, Grace was the one that fired. She was kneeling at his feet, aiming low. A scream of coyote rage echoed in the night. She had obviously hit what she had aimed at.
“Stay put, and stay down,” he ordered her, as he glimpsed a flash of gray moving through the underbrush. Vidal was trying to move into sight of the only weak point of their cover.
“I’ve got your back.” Fear seemed to be making her voice tremble.
Matthias moved to the opening behind them, slipped past it, and waited. Behind him, Grace was firing. Occasionally a grunt or curse could be heard from the darkness. The smell of blood was thick in the air, but the smell of Vidal’s treachery was thicker.
He moved closer. Closer.
Matthias lifted the rifle and watched, waited. Just a little to the right, he thought. He almost had him.
Vidal’s graying head peeked from the tree that had been sheltering him, and Matthias fired. The bullet zipped through the night, struck Vidal’s forehead, and the bastard went down.
Enforcers filled the area at the same time. Dozens of them were falling from the sky, sliding down black nylon ropes suspended from the night-black, silent heli-jet that had moved in overhead.
Matthias shook his head at Jonas’s timing and slid back into the shelter to collect his mate.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grace had never given much thought to death. Her thoughts since meeting Matthias had been filled with dreams for the future and plans to show him all the little intricacies of being part of a family. But when she felt the bullet tear into her chest, death was uppermost in her mind.
Strangely, it wasn’t pain she felt. It was cold, not hot. It seemed to fill her body with ice rather than the burning pain she would have imagined. She was numb, yet able to move.
She had to move. She had to help Matthias. Just this one last time, she had to do something for him.
She managed to get his gun out of his holster and help hold the coyote soldiers back, determined to at least take a few with her if she did die. Matthias couldn’t help her until this was dealt with, so she fought to hold back the ragged cries that tore at her chest.
Not from pain. She was numb to the pain, just aware of it. She wanted to cry because of what she was losing. As she felt herself growing weaker, felt the haze of blood loss engulfing her mind, she thought of leaving Matthias forever. She thought of the pain he would feel when she was gone.
It had taken her weeks to get a smile out of him, and she remembered the thrill the sound of his first laugh had brought her. She had a feeling Matthias hadn’t often had occasion to laugh.
As Grace lay on the ground staring into the crack between the boulders, the gun dropped from her hand, and a whimper of agony left her lips.
She didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to watch him play football with her brothers. She wanted to see her mother fuss over him and realize her father’s approval of him.
“Matthias,” she whispered, finally feeling him beside her again.
The gunfire had abated. Were the coyotes all dead? She hoped they were. She wanted them all dead.
“Grace. Grace!” She heard the panic in his voice, felt his hands as he turned her over, and knew he saw the blood.
She blinked up at him.
Shock, rage, agony creased his face, filled his dark eyes, and sent pain raging through her. She hated seeing the pain in his face.
Dawn was moving in, lighting the shelter they hid in, shadowing his scarred face, his incredible whiskey eyes.
He was screaming. She could hear him screaming, though what he said didn’t make sense.
She lifted her hand to touch him. Just one last touch. Oh God, she didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to lie with him one more time, she wanted his kiss again, to feel his touch.
“Matthias,” she whispered. She loved his name, loved his face, and his heart.
“Don’t you leave me, Grace.” He was pressing something to her chest. “Do you hear me? Don’t you leave me.”
He was so arrogant. He was glaring at her, as though his refusal to let her go was all that was needed.
“Grace I swear to God, if you die, I’ll never wear jeans. I’ll never eat pie. I’ll shoot fucking football players. Don’t you die on me!”
She smiled. She was so glad it didn’t hurt. That was so strange, the pain should have been agonizing.
“I love you, Matthias,” she told him softly. “Like the earth loves the rain, like the flowers love the sun.”
She was so tired. So tired and so frightened. She didn’t want to leave him.
Her breathing hitched as the tears she couldn’t hold back any longer began to fall from her eyes.
“Grace!” He was screaming at her, as her lashes fluttered. “Ah God, Grace, stay with me! Stay with me!”
She was so tired. She touched his face, feeling his hand clasp her fingers to his rough cheeks, and she fought to smile back at him.
Like a flower loves the sun… that thought drifted through her mind again. He warmed her like that. The sun warmed the flowers. “I love you.”
She couldn’t stay with him any longer. She tried. She tried until a silent scream was echoing in her head, because she could feel herself drifting away from him, and she couldn’t stop it.
As her eyes drifted closed and rich darkness engulfed her, she could have sworn she heard a wolf cry.
Matthias…
“LET the medic work on her, Matthias!” Jonas was screaming in his face, as Matthias fought the hands pulling him away from Grace.
She was so weak. The smell of her blood was in his brain, and agony beat at him with blows harsher than any he had received in the labs.
Matthias fought like the beast he was to tear away from the Breeds restraining him. To get to Grace. To hold her to him.
“You mangy fucking wolf, listen to me.” Jonas’s forearm slammed into Matthias’s throat, driving his head back against the boulder.
Matthias let out another bloodcurdling howl of agony.
“She’s alive, Matthias, but if you don’t fucking calm down, we won’t be able to help her. Do you understand me? We won’t be able to help her.”
Silver eyes flashed in the dawn light, the savage expression of the Lion Breed who was helping to restrain him finally took shape.
“Jonas! Grace…”
“Help us, Matthias, don’t go wild on me,” Jonas snarled, his canines flashing dangerously. “She’s alive. If we’re going to keep her alive, we have to move fast, and you have to keep your head.”
The forearm across his throat flexed powerfully, as Matthias struggled against him again.
“Can you keep your fucking head, Matthias?” Jonas yelled in his face.
“As long as she breathes,” he screamed back.
“Good! Let’s get going.” Jonas released him, and only then did Matthias see the basket that Grace had been strapped into and the medic working furiously to keep her alive.
“Jump in.” Jonas pushed him to the wide metal basket used to transport the wounded from the ground to the hovering heli-jet above. “You and the medic. The hospital has been notified, and doctors Armani and Morrey are en route.”
Matthias clutched the side of the basket, as he knelt on one side of Grace, the medic on the other. An IV was strapped to her arm, a compress on her chest.
Sweet God, they had shot her in the chest. He felt the grief raging inside him now, the knowledge he could lose her, and he knew he would never bear the pain of it.
She had to live. Without her, he would never be warm again.
As the Breeds waiting in the transport heli-jet secured the basket, the hum of the craft grew louder.
He heard the report the medic was transmitting to the hospital in New York City. Her vitals, the site of her wound and its depth. She was on oxygen and had an IV. Surgeons were waiting, and the Breed doctors were on their way.
Within minutes the heli-jet was landing, and they were taking Grace away from him. She was loaded onto a stretcher and rushed across the roof as a second heli-jet landed and deposited the two doctors, who had been redirected from a flight to Virginia just minutes behind Jonas.
Doctors Armani and Morrey rushed across the landing area and followed the gurney. Within seconds, the heli-jets lifted off and left Matthias alone.
He stood on the hospital roof, staring around at the blinking lights, the buildings that rose like sentinels around them, and felt a striking loneliness fill his soul.
They had taken Grace away from him. Because of him, she was hurt, possibly dying. Alone.
Matthias stared down at his scarred hands and saw her blood, heard the ragged growl that tore from his throat. He was lost.
He stared around the rooftop again and realized that clear to his soul, without Grace, he was simply lost.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Joe Anderson entered the surgery waiting room, his wife, sons, and their families closing in behind him. He knew him the moment he saw the young man Jonas Wyatt had told him to look for.
Wearing black leather, streaked with blood, his face resting in his broad hands, as long, night-black hair flowed around them.
He sat alone. The other families awaiting word on their loved ones were gathered at the other side of the room, casting wary looks his way.
Matthias Slaughter.
Grace had told him about Matthias, of course. Not what he looked like, or about the air of danger that surrounded him. She told him things only a woman would think of. Things like his sadness, his wariness, and how he made her feel.
Joe sighed heavily. This man made his daughter feel alive. Grace had said, “As though there’s adventure around every corner, Daddy.” And she had laughed. But he had heard the love in that laughter.
This was his daughter’s man. That made him family. No matter what.
Matthias’s head lifted, and the scarred face looked around, as he swiped the overly long black hair back from his face. He was an imposing figure. Standing to his feet, Matthias paced over to the windows, looked out, paced back to the small table, sat down, and tried to blend into the shadows of the room.
Joe could see the man’s attempts to become invisible, and it bothered him. Jonas hadn’t said much about this Wolf Breed enforcer, but Joe had learned years ago how to read between the lines. And what he had sensed rather than heard, made him ache for the young man.
Joe fought back his own fear, his own anger at the thought of his daughter lying in surgery, a bullet in her chest, her life hanging on the line.
Daddy, I love you like the flowers love the sunshine. And you know they love it, ’cause they open right up and spread their petals like arms. Have you noticed that, Daddy? They hug the sun, because it keeps them safe and warm. That’s why I love hugging you, Daddy. You keep me safe and warm.
He had to blink back his tears at the memory of her, barely ten, trying to wheedle her way out of some trouble she had gotten into at school. Grace had been his wild child. She had fought and scrapped, climbed trees, and jumped into water that was invariably over her head. Just as she had this time.
And just as he had always known she would, she had picked a man strong enough to follow her into adventure. Grace loved adventure. She restrained it now, worked hard, and never got into trouble. But she still liked to climb trees, and she still liked the deeper waters.
“There he is. Joe, why are you just standing here?” His wife, Janet, moved around him, her still-shapely figure drawn tight with fear for her daughter and worry for this Breed that their daughter spoke so highly of.
Matthias Slaughter was streaked with dirt and their daughter’s blood, and his expression was haggard, bordering on savage. The sight of him broke Joe’s heart.
As Joe stood there, Janet and his three daughters-in-law left him alone with his silent sons. Grace’s older brothers were a lot like Joe. They watched and assessed.
Joe looked back and saw their eyes, and knew the boys saw the same thing he did. A man almost broken. The Breeds had lived horrifying lives. If that Jonas Wyatt’s expression was anything to go by, then this Breed had known hell as few others had.
If he loved Grace as Wyatt said this man did, then the fear he would be feeling right now would be staggering.
He watched as Janet, with her mussed, shoulder-length gray hair and petite figure, fearlessly walked right up to that Breed.
The man’s head lifted, and his eyes were alive with rage and agony, as he stared up at Janet. Joe knew the moment Matthias realized who she was. His expression clenched, his reddened eyes turned moist, and he whispered in a rough, growling voice, “She’s my sunshine…”
Joe knew in that moment, Matthias Slaughter was family.
MATTHIAS wasn’t ready for Grace’s family. They would be angry, enraged at the danger he had brought to their daughter. There would be no buying or threatening their acceptance now. If she lived, they would demand his immediate removal from her life, and by God, he couldn’t blame them.
He stared at his hands. He couldn’t wash Grace’s blood from them, it was all he had left to hold on to, her blood covering his flesh, reminding him that her love hadn’t been a dream. It had been real. As real as the fight she was waging for her life right now.
When he looked up at the figure that moved to stand beside the table, he had immediately been snared by Grace’s eyes. Soft, gray, tear-filled eyes in a lined face.
“Matthias, I’m Grace’s mother.” Her voice was soft, like a whisper of acceptance, and his heart clenched at the pain of it.
“I love her like the sun,” he whispered, needing them to know before they accused him, before they raged at him. “She’s my sunlight,” he repeated.
And he could have never expected what happened next. Tears fell from those soft gray eyes, as she wrapped her arms around him and
laid her head on his shoulder.
His arms gripped her, as she began to cry. His eyes lifted to the other women surrounding him, and to the men who watched him silently.
There was no condemnation. They all looked at him with compassion, especially the older man, the father, whose eyes reddened from the tears he held inside.
“I’m sorry.” He was, to the bottom of his soul, so bleakly sorry that she had taken that bullet instead of him. He would give his life to trade places with her. He had offered his life to God to take him instead. He had prayed, bargained, raged, and begged the Almighty not to take his sunlight.
The father nodded once. He moved forward then, drew his wife from Matthias’s embrace, pulled chairs back from the table for both of them, and introduced Grace’s family to him. As though he weren’t the enemy. As though it was important he know who they were.
“Not the first time she’s been in surgery.” Joe cleared his throat, as he sat beside his wife and wrapped his arm around her. “Remember when she was six, Janet?” He cleared his throat as Matthias stared back at him in confusion. “She fell out of that tree and started bleeding internally. I thought we were going to lose her then.”
The three sons nodded, the women smiled watery smiles.
Matthias stared at them. “I have money.” He clenched his hands on the table. “I have some small connections.” They stared back at him questioningly. “I know I didn’t protect her well this time.” He stared at the blood on his hands. “I’ll do better.” He lifted his gaze to the father. “I’ll make certain I do better in the future.” His teeth clenched. He had sworn he would beg if he had to. “Don’t take her from me.”
Joe blinked, lowered his head, and shook it.
“I won’t let it happen again.”
Joe lifted his eyes once again. “Matthias…”
“I can’t live without her.” He meant to beg, but it came out as a growl of fury. “She would be torn between us. I don’t want this…”
“Matthias.” It was Janet that reached out to him. She placed her hand on his, over Grace’s blood, and caught his eyes with hers. “We all love Grace. And if she loves you, then you’re family. You don’t buy acceptance, son. You don’t bargain for it. It’s there or it’s not. You love her, and we accept you because of that. But, she loves you. Because of that, you’re family.”
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