like ripping metal filled the night as the mother panther, Vicki, sprang on him—and tore out his throat. Without pausing over her kill, the cat raced across the grass toward more guards.
Margery hurried into the shadows with the others.
All over the compound, pistols barked, the sharp snaps louder than the yelling guards. Panthers were golden blurs across the dark lawn as they attacked the Scythe around Darcy. Shrieking and yelling, the guards died under the werecats’ fangs and claws.
In the center of it all, Darcy collapsed.
No!
Owen and another big male ran to her. Held her.
Darcy didn’t move.
Loss sliced through Margery, and tears pooled in her eyes. If not for the warm weight of the infants in her arms, she would have dropped to her knees.
After speaking to Owen, Alec turned and bounded in cat form back to her and the captives. He shifted to human. “Let’s go.”
The females stared at him, many in tears, others frozen with fear.
“Come on.” Motioning for them to follow, Margery moved toward him, breaking their paralysis.
He led them around to the front and into the huge garage where the Scythe’s black SUVs sat in a long line. One of the three garage doors was open to the black night, showing flashes of gunfire, men running, animal shapes. A fire blazed across the compound, painting the darkness like a nightmare come to life.
A gray-haired male rasped out a greeting to Alec. “That all of them?”
“Yep. Gawain and Owen are with Darcy. She was shot.” Alec turned toward the door. “Vicki’s alive—and out there fighting. Joe, can you—”
“Stubborn female.” The older male’s face was as harsh as his voice. A torn-off sleeve served as a bandage over a bloodied left forearm. “Aye, I’ve got this. Go fetch her.”
“Thanks.” Alec turned to the captives. “Once your tracking devices are removed, we’ll get you out of here.”
Margery felt her muscles loosen a tiny bit. The Scythe had said a tracking device was implanted in each hostage—a way to locate them if they ever tried to escape. Of course the devices needed to come out. How could she have forgotten?
As Alec shifted and disappeared out the door, Joe yelled, “Donal, the females are here.”
“Coming.” From the rear came a tall, lithely powerful male with black hair past his shoulders. Olive skin covered cheekbones as sharp as the peaks of the Olympic Mountains.
Donal looked at the huddle of females. “I’ll start with the youngest. I’m afraid you each have two trackers to remove.” The rich, resonant timbre of his voice tugged at something deep inside Margery.
“Two?” she asked.
“Aye, arm and leg.” Donal motioned for Alice to come forward. “Come, cub. Sit on the bench here.
Alice took a step back. Her voice wavered. A male in authority wasn’t to be trusted. “Margery?”
“Yes, sit down. This is good.” Pushing away pity, Margery kept her voice firm to quell the youngling’s panic. “We want that Scythe nastiness out of our bodies. The sooner the better.”
Biting her lip, Alice sat, but gave Margery a pleading look. “Please?”
“All right.” Margery looked around.
With Alec’s help, Vicki had shifted to human and was dressing. The babies would have her care soon.
Margery handed the infants she held to the females who looked the most stable and settled beside Alice on the long, wall bench.
She took the girl’s cold little hands. “I’ve got you, lambkin.” Pulling in a breath, she nodded to the patiently waiting male. “We’re ready.”
Donal crouched in front of Alice with the deadly grace of a panther shifter. His expression softened at the girl’s fear. “I took the trackers out of everyone’s brothers, little one. I’m getting quite fast at it.”
“You saw my littermates?” Alice squeaked. “Are they all right?”
“Tynan said all the shifter-soldiers made it here.”
As the male pulled out a scalpel, Alice gripped Margery’s hands harder.
Blade in one hand, the male ran his other hand over Alice’s upper arm, made a tiny cut, and popped the device out. Alice only squeaked once. Donal tossed the tiny tracker into a nearby trash bin.
Pushing the leg of Alice’s sleep shorts up, he traced his fingertips over her thigh and made an irritated sound. “The one is deep and will hurt more, lass. I’m sorry.”
He looked at Margery. “Can you—”
Knowing what he needed, Margery wrapped her arms around the girl, immobilizing her in a hug. “We’ll both hold really still.”
The male was quick; she had to give him that. One swift—deep—slice, and he tweezed the tracker out.
Tears ran down Alice’s cheeks, but her sobbing was quiet. They’d learned