She could hear screaming in the background as orders were relayed, but no Tamber.
“No strike,” a voice suddenly called out in her ear as she nearly stumbled down the slope, coming in view of the house. “We have no strike. No strike. Missile fouled.”
Or something had fouled it. The heavily forested mountain with its thick-trunked trees had saved their hides. Two wide, centuries-old oaks flamed at the base of the mountain from the impact that had triggered the explosives in the missile. Breeds were rushing around the yards, pulling hoses from the hydrants located around the property to put out the flames before it set the entire mountain on fire.
“Check for others,” Sherra snapped into the link as she turned and rushed back the way she had come. She would kill the bastard.
As she neared the two Breeds dragging the screeching figure down the mountain she allowed a hard feline snarl of fury to pass her lips. They stopped, dropping their burden and standing aside as she stepped closer.
He was sobbing. Like a child caught at some indiscretion that he knew would bring punishment. The bastard wasn’t even repentant, just terrified now.
“Hello.” She whispered the word with a dangerous, predatory growl as she hunched down, knees
bending to stare into the pale face. “What do we have here? A little midnight snack?” She displayed her teeth, seeing his eyes round at the sharp canines at the sides, top and bottom. She was one of the rare few with two full sets of the pointed weapons. Keeping the long canines hidden behind small smiles and a pretense of shyness hadn’t been easy while living in the small eastern Kentucky town they had been hiding in before.
There was no need to hide now. She pulled her goggles back from her eyes, aware that they now shimmered eerily in the full light of the moon that glowed overhead. He screamed a second before his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness. Sherra grunted coldly.
“Haul him to the cells.” She stood up as she gave the curt order to the two guards. “I’m sure Kane and Callan are waiting for him.”
Missiles now. She shook her head as she fought to breathe through the pounding of her heart. How the hell had he managed to get through their outer security and this far down the mountain before he showed up on radar?
“I need two more units out here. We need those outer fences checked as well as the security alerts,”
Sherra yelled into the link to be certain she was heard over the din in the communications room.
“On their way.” Callan’s voice was full-throttle fury. “Get your ass back here now. I need you here. We have wounded.”
“Who?” Fear slammed in her heart at the thought of her family as she started down the mountain at a fast clip.
“The explosion caused flying debris to hit several of the guards and Merinus is in a tirade over you being out there. Get back here and calm her down. I don’t need her having that baby before it’s due.”
Which meant Merinus was more than upset. Which meant someone close to Merinus…
“Where’s Kane?” she breathed out harshly.
Silence descended.
“Oh God…” Her knees weakened in fear. Gathering her strength, Sherra raced down the remainder of the mountain toward the opened gate awaiting her.
She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She refused to acknowledge the searing pain that gripped her chest and made her want to howl in misery. She ignored the despair, ignored the fear and ran with everything she had back to the house and to her mate.
“Dammit to hell, if you don’t stop poking at me I’m going to break your fingers,” Kane snapped at Doc Martin as he pulled a long sliver of wood from his shoulder, staunching the bleeding with thick gauze. The flesh of his shoulder was a mess, raw and oozing blood, as Doc worked to clean the area.
Sherra stopped just inside the well-equipped medical room and stared at the wounds in horror. Smooth, perfect muscle bunched painfully as Doc inserted another injection of anesthetic to deaden the pain before pulling more slivers of wood from the flesh.
Wounds had never particularly affected her. She had been helping Doc for years with Callan’s and often Taber’s injuries. But seeing Kane, his perfect flesh torn and brutalized, made her stomach heave threateningly.
“Sherra, I need more bandages,” Doc snapped as she paused behind him. “I already had to nearly sedate Merinus when she saw this, and everyone else is busy.”
Rushing to the sink, Sherra hurriedly scrubbed her hands and arms down, rinsed and dried them before she rushed back to the gurney. Standing in front of Kane, she prepared the gauze, staring down at the utensils and the small metal bowl littered with wood fragments.
“Damned butcher,” Kane muttered with a grimace as the probing began again. He kept his head lowered, his shoulder hunched as though in pain, though she knew the area should be properly numbed by that point.
“It’s pretty bad. He’ll need a few stitches,” Doc murmured. “You were lucky, son. Those flying splinters could have buried in a lung.”
Sherra fought to control the sense of horror at the thought. Her stomach roiled as she swallowed tightly and prepared the sutures the doctor would need.
“You okay?” Kane asked her, his voice tense, his head still lowered.