Primal Law ap-1

by J. D. Tyler

  Ryon gave them a thumbs-up and the pair disappeared around the corner, headed to the back of the building and the fire escape. From there, they’d scale to the roof.

  Jax and his group kept to the shadows, pressed next to the building at a side entrance, waiting. Eight minutes later, Ryon’s voice pushed into their collective consciousness.

  Roof is secure. Let’s kick ass!

  Nick and Hammer positioned themselves on each side of the door, guns drawn. Jax delivered a punishing kick, busting in the door with one try, a feat he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish if he was still human. Nick and Hammer led the team inside. They ran at a fast clip down the side corridor and into the lobby.

  Where there was no security guard at the desk.

  The group fanned out, circling, eyeing the large space. Nothing moved.

  “The alarm isn’t going off,” Nick snapped.

  Fear shot down Jax’s spine. They’d lived this scene before. Oh, God, it’s a trap!

  “It’s a setup!” he yelled. “Get out—”

  Figures burst from the shadows all around them, became armed men bringing up their weapons. Flashes of gunfire erupted, the noise deafening in the open lobby. Nick and Hammer crouched, returning fire, taking out as many as they could, covering for the team.

  Jax shifted, not taking precious time to strip off his shirt, glimpsed Zan doing the same, and then he scrambled out of his pants and shoes. Putting on a burst of speed, he leaped for the nearest gunman, taking him down. Before the bastard could shoot again, Jax ripped out his throat. A quick, easy kill. He whirled, seeking his next target, and saw his team had dispatched a number of their enemy, but several more remained.

  His boss and Hammer had taken cover behind the guard’s desk and were keeping the goons on the defensive, picking them off. Zan was struggling in wolf form with two men who had him pinned. Kalen stood off to the side of the melee, palms out, chanting. God knows what the kid was doing. Hopefully, turning all the fuckers into toads.

  Jax ran for the two men who had Zan, but a blast of heat scored his flank. He spun and attacked the asshole who’d shot him, making short work of this one as he’d done the other. When he turned back, he spotted Zan unconscious, in human form, the two men dragging him to the closest exit.

  In that moment, he understood that not all of them were meant to die. At least some of them were slated to be taken captive for use in Bowman and Chappell’s hideous experiments. Just like the ambush six months ago.

  Would Grant and the government have lied this time as well, told them Zan was dead?

  Taking off across the distance, he launched himself at the man holding Zan’s shoulders. Backpedaling, the guy dropped his burden, frantically reaching for the gun stuck in his pants. Jax was faster, clamping down on his wrist just as he drew the weapon and crushing flesh and bone in his jaws. Screaming, the gunman fell to the floor and, knowing he was incapacitated, Jax faced the other man, the one who’d had Zan’s feet. Who now had his gun pointed right between Jax’s eyes.

  His heart stuttered and he waited for the shot that not even a shifter could heal.

  The bastard grinned. “I’m gonna enjoy this.”

  But the shot never came. The grin became a grimace, his mouth twisting in pain, eyes going impossibly wide in their sockets. Jax watched, frozen by fascination and horror, as the guy just . . . shriveled. Like a grape drying out, turning into a raisin.

  And then he collapsed, nothing but a bag of skin and bones. Just like all of his armed comrades, lying everywhere.

  What the fuck?

  At the edge of the lobby, Kalen lowered his palms and leaned against a support column, clearly drained. “People are mostly made of water,” he informed his stunned team. “Remove that element and there isn’t much left. As you can see.”

  Then he slid down the column and passed out.

  Jax took a step toward Kalen, but Ryon’s urgent voice pushed into his head.

  Need some help up here—we’re outnumbered! They’re trying to take Aric!

  Shit! Jax ran for the stairwell, shifted to human briefly just to get the access door open, shifted back and kept going. His preternatural speed was much greater in wolf form and he covered the floors quickly.

  He just prayed he was fast enough to avert disaster.

  Beside the van, Kira paced, chewing her thumbnail.

  “Honey, he’ll be all right,” Mac soothed. “Come into the van and sit down.”

  “I can’t. Something’s wrong. This whole evening it’s like the world has been slightly off its axis, and now it’s worse.”

  “Trust him. He’s an experienced soldier and—”

  Oh, God, it’s a trap!

  Kira froze, gasping. “Jax.”

  Mac grabbed her arm. “What is it?”

  “He said it’s a trap.” The blood drained from her face, and she wrenched her arm from Mac’s hold. “They’re in trouble!”

  “Kira, you can’t go! Jax wants you to stay here where you’ll be safe. You know that!” Her friend moved to block her way.

  “I’m not cowering out here while my mate is in there and something terrible is happening, so don’t try to stop me,” she warned. The growl in her voice let Mac know she meant it. She’d put her on the ground if necessary.

  Stepping around her friend, she sprinted down the street. The building seemed too far away. It took only a couple of minutes to reach the side door they’d broken down to gain entry, but it might’ve been forever. She covered the distance to the lobby quickly, and drew up short at the horrible sight.

  Nick and Hammer were bleeding, but were crouched over Zan and Kalen, tending to them. All around them, what must’ve been the enemy were sprawled on the floor. And they were shrunken and dried like prunes. God.

  “Where’s Jax?” she choked out. “Tell me!”

  “Roof,” Hammer said. “But don’t—”

  She didn’t wait to hear him order her not to go. Wouldn’t have done any good. Quickly, she found the stairwell, giving a silent thanks to Kalen for the model they’d studied. Once inside, she stripped and concentrated, calling to her wolf.

  The change wasn’t nearly as painful as the very first time. She’d had plenty of practice during her runs with Jax, and she was getting good at it. On all fours, she took a second to adjust to her wolf senses—and scented her mate. Smelled his fear, his determination.

  Following in his wake, she bolted up the stairs.

  Jax burst onto the roof and into chaos.

  His friends were under attack, Ryon in his silver wolf form, battling two men on his own. Two more were dragging Aric toward the waiting helicopter, hands bound behind his back with silver cuffs. Which explained why the red wolf hadn’t been able to change, or even unleash his fire on them. He couldn’t use his telekinesis to move objects while bound, either.

  A glance in the helicopter confirmed his fears. Dr. Bowman and Chappell were waiting in the craft, and they weren’t alone. Beryl, Jax’s traitorous former lover, sat in the open doorway, the face he’d once thought so beautiful pulled into an ugly smirk.

  He started to bolt for the men dragging Aric away, but pain blasted through his crippled leg. With a yelp, he twisted to see one of the men who’d been struggling with Ryon had turned his attention to taking out Jax, popping off a shot and hitting the injured limb.

  Normally his bum leg wasn’t as big of an issue in wolf form, but as he leaped for the new threat, it buckled. He managed to take the shooter down, but the agony in his leg was distracting. Thank God they weren’t using silver bullets. The bastard got in a couple of blows to his head that left his ears ringing.

  Just then, a snarl caught his attention. Raising his head, he saw a smaller wolf barrel through the open doorway onto the roof and straight for him. Fear and pride warred within him. She was magnificent, but he was terrified she’d be hurt.

  Kira! Go back!

  No!

  Jax had the man’s shooting arm in his jaws and Kira went for his th
roat. The gunman’s scream was abruptly cut off. She spun and teamed up with Ryon to quickly dispatch his assailant. Seeing that they had things under control, Jax went for the helicopter. But with his injured leg slowing him down, he wasn’t going to make it in time before the craft lifted off with Aric inside.

  Suddenly, a flash of gray and white streaked past him. Before he realized what she was about to do, his mate leaped into the open craft and went straight for the gunman holding Aric. Shouts ensued as she crushed the goon’s throat in a vise. The man fell, letting go of Aric and in an instant, Kira shoved their friend with all her strength.

  Aric landed on the roof with an umph, and rolled, wrists still bound. Scraped up but safe.

  Jax ran, his limp slowing him down. But the copter was lifting. Kira tried to get to Bowman, who sat on the other side of Beryl. Desperate, Jax shifted to human form and yelled over the noise. “Kira, jump!”

  Turning, she saw her opportunity to escape slipping away. Making the decision to let them go, fight another day, she shifted to human form and braced herself in the doorway.

  “Jump!” he yelled again. The copter was pulling away, a gap forming between it and the roof.

  Kira tensed to make the leap—just as Beryl grabbed her from behind, holding her back. The gap between the building and the copter widened even more. There was no way Kira could make the jump now. Then Beryl raised a booted foot and kicked her hard, between the shoulder blades. Jax could only watch in horror as his mate lost her grip.

  “Kira!”

  She was flung from the helicopter.

  Eyes wide with terror, reaching for the lip on the edge of the building.

  And missing.

  Her scream pierced the night. Shattered his heart.

  Then silence. He couldn’t breathe. Could not fathom what had just happened.

  His mate wasn’t dead. She wasn’t.

  He took his wolf form and ran. As fast as his injured leg would allow, down the flights of stairs. Past his team who’d regrouped and was on the way up. All the way down, out of the building. Around to the side where she’d fallen.

  She lay on the pavement, pale and still. His wolf approached, the animal half scenting and realizing what his human counterpart denied—death.

  Shifting back, he gathered her into his arms, cradled her. Gently brushed the tangled blond hair from her bruised face. Her eyes were closed, dusky lashes on delicate cheeks, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

  “Baby?” His voice shook. Trembled as he fought the knowledge. “Kira? Open your eyes, angel. Please, please . . .”

  No heartbeat. No life. Her body was broken, their souls no longer connected.

  The bond was severed. His mate was dead.

  Clutching her to his chest, he threw back his head and screamed.

  And screamed.

  Seventeen

  Jax, buddy, you have to let her go.

  Oh, God, somebody do something!

  Leave him alone, asshole! Can’t you see he’s grieving?

  Their voices came to him from far away. Grieving?

  Yes. He was grieving his mate. Murdered by his former lover and her evil partners. Nothing would ever be all right again.

  All along, it was Kira who was meant to die. Not me.

  Nick had known. There was nothing to do now except follow her into death and hope she’d be waiting for him. Except . . .

  If you could go back and relive any perfect moment in your life, which one would it be?

  He’d told her none. That they’d go on to live their lives and make more perfect moments. And now there was only one way to do that.

  Use his gift. The one he’d failed to use that night six months ago, and as a result, had failed his team. He had the power to make this right. For him and Kira.

  Lovingly, he kissed his mate’s cooling brow and laid her carefully upon the ground. Time was literally of the essence.

  Oh, God, please let my gift return.

  He was hardly aware of his team surrounding him as he stood, held his arms out from his sides, palms up. Ignored their calls as he let the rage consume him, fuel his power, and they realized what he was doing.

  It can’t be gone. Because if it’s gone, so is she. Forever.

  Reaching out with his senses, he found nothing at first. Only blank silence where his gift used to be. No, please!

  Nothing.

  And then, just as he was about to give in to despair, a glimmer of something . . . There! The threads. The very fabric of time. Desperately, he snagged them one by one, gathered them, bent them to his will. Spun them, running the reel backward.

  The scene before him fell away and he watched the film outside of himself, an observer waiting for exactly the right moment. He’d only get one chance, and if he failed, he’d not have the strength to do it again.

  He was on the roof again, going for the helicopter as Kira helped Ryon dispatch his assailant. Now!

  Jax let go of the threads and prepared himself for impact. With brutal force, he was slammed back inside his wolf’s body, the shock taking his breath away. But he had only precious seconds to recover. The helicopter was about to lift off with Aric inside, and a lance of agony went through Jax at the decision he’d already made.

  His mate’s life, or Aric’s.

  There was no choice.

  This time, instead of going for the helicopter, he spun and intercepted his mate as she tried to streak past him. He tackled her, pinning her smaller wolf’s body with his much larger one. Even with his injury, she had no hope of dislodging him. She was no match for the strength of his desperation.

  And of his love.

  The helicopter lifted, engines throttling. He raised his head to see the men inside, holding a struggling Aric. Beryl’s expression was catlike, satisfied. God only knows what they would do to his friend.

  But it was the look of hurt and betrayal on Aric’s face that Jax would never forget.

  He’d saved his mate, but the cost had been great. Not just for him, but the entire team. Nick would probably fire him for what he’d done. But the memory of holding Kira’s broken body shook him, and he knew he wouldn’t change what he’d done.

  Underneath him, she shifted, and he did, too. Big blue eyes gazed up at him, confused and worried. “Why did you stop me? I could’ve saved him,” she whispered.

  Tears escaped to stream down his face. He couldn’t have stopped them if he tried. “I know you could have. You did.”

  “What?”

  “You saved Aric, but Beryl pushed you from the helicopter,” he choked. “You fell to your death.”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “Are you kidding?”

  “I wish I were. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.” Scooping her into his arms, he crushed her against his chest. He was barely aware of himself, Kira, and Ryon being joined on the roof by the rest of his team.

  “I think I remember falling,” his mate said after a few moments. “It’s like a dream.”

  “A bad one.”

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d held her when suddenly clothing appeared on him and Kira. Looking up, he saw Kalen standing nearby with a faint smile on his lips.

  “You guys were blinding me,” he said.

  He gave a hollow laugh. “Thanks, Sorcerer.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “I don’t suppose you could flash that helicopter back here?”

  Regret etched his face. “I’m sorry, man. I tried to perform a grounding spell, but it got away before I could get a good grip on it.”

  Jax stood and helped his mate up, limping a bit on his bad leg. He’d have to get the wound checked out. Later. “That’s all right. It’s my fault those sons of bitches got away with Aric. I take full responsibility.”

  He drew her into his side, unable to let go. Not now, maybe never. How was it possible for a man to be so elated, yet completely consumed with guilt? Whatever happened to Aric was on his head.

  To have his m
ate alive and healthy, he would pay whatever price the future held.

  “Is everyone else okay?” he asked Kalen.

  The Sorcerer nodded. “A little beat up, but healing.”

  “That’s good.”

  Nick walked over, his expression unreadable. “We’ll talk at the compound.” His gaze flicked to Kira. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “Thanks to my mate.”

  “Yes.” Their boss was silent for a moment. “Let’s finish our sweep, make sure there are no captives here, and get out.”

  They finished their jobs, speaking very little. The others knew what he’d done, remembered more than Kira did. He could tell by the solemn stares directed his way. They’d never begrudge him his mate’s life, but they were all sick about Aric.

  No captives were found, nor was there any scent of Micah or any other shifters in the lab or holding areas. The computer hard drives contained no information they could use. The entire scene that Zan and Kalen had observed, with Bowman, Chappell, Beryl, and their henchmen moving crates and equipment into this building had been a ruse. A setup from start to finish to trap them.

  Weary, the team began the long trek home, made interminable by the loss of one of their own. By the time they reached the compound, dawn had broken. They dragged themselves inside and headed for their separate quarters. Jax turned to his boss and awaited his instructions, stomach churning.

  “You going to give me walking papers?”

  Nick sighed. “I don’t know. You two get some rest and I’ll see you in my office this afternoon.” He left them standing there, staring after him.

  “Come on, handsome.” Kira tugged on his hand. “Let’s go.”

  He let her lead him to their apartment, pull him inside. As they undressed, he recalled his bullet wounds and inspected them in the bathroom mirror. Just a scratch across his right butt cheek, and the wound in his bad leg was already healed. It still hurt, but he could live with it.

  He had his mate.

  They brushed their teeth and then he turned on the shower. He let the water get hot and then pulled her inside with him. Just held her as the spray washed away some of the terror and sadness of the past few hours.