Wolf Untamed (SWAT - Special Wolf Alpha Team #11) - Paige Tyler Page 0,35

strong as Diego was, it was still a near thing. Sure, he could have partially shifted and torn the guy apart, but he desperately wanted to take this guy in alive. After a few punches, an elbow to the face, and a head-butt, Diego finally got both hands on the gun. Then he twisted violently until he heard the bones in the man’s wrists crack. When the guy released the weapon with a yelp of pain, Diego threw the thing across the room.

He thought for sure the fight would end there.

It didn’t.

Still clearly out of his mind, the man continued to resist, punching and kicking until Diego yanked him up and tackled him again, slamming him into the floor with his shoulder. The guy finally stopped fighting, probably because Diego had managed to knock him out. Now that he wasn’t on the attack, Diego took a good look at him. Sometime during the struggle, the blood smeared on the guy’s temple had been wiped off, and lying there so quietly, looking more like he was asleep than unconscious, Diego was struck once again at how young and innocent his attacker looked. Probably because he was out cold.

Diego reached for the cuffs on his belt as Trey dropped to a knee to help. That was when Diego realized his pack mates had taken the other two gunmen alive as well. Hale stood guard over them as Connor herded the terrified hostages toward the door.

“Is it just my imagination, or are these people getting harder to deal with?” Trey asked as Diego handcuffed the unconscious suspect. “These three almost gave us more than we could handle—at least without shifting.”

“I know,” Diego agreed.

These guys had been a lot more violent than any of the other recent cases. Where the other offenders had seemed reluctant, these guys were willing to kill to get what they wanted.

As Diego flipped the guy over, his eyes fluttered open and he let out a groan. The expression on his face as he blinked up at Diego and Trey, then looked around the bank in confusion, was like nothing Diego had ever seen before.

“Where am I?” the kid asked, his voice rough from all the shouting he’d done, his youthful face full of alarm as he realized his hands were pinned behind his back. “What happened? Am I under arrest?”

Before Diego could say anything, two patrol officers stood the guy on his feet and guided him toward the door. Beside Diego, Trey looked as baffled as he was.

“Did he seriously have no idea where he was or how he got here?” Trey asked.

All Diego could do was shrug, wincing a little at the sharp stab of pain in his right shoulder, because he had no idea what to say. On the bright side, at least no one had died on this call. Unfortunately, they still had no explanation for what was happening to the people in this city.

* * *

The debriefing after the hostage situation at the bank took forever. Chief Leclair showed up again, once more disappointed to learn that this was likely another case of delirium—apparently that stupid word Ernest Hobbs had coined earlier had stuck. The jackass was probably on the other side of the crime-scene tape at that moment.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m praying all three of those men have rap sheets as long as my arm,” the chief said. “It turns out the guy at the diner this morning was a high-profile investment advisor for one of the largest and most prestigious firms in the city. The press is having a field day with this.”

Diego traded looks with his pack mates. “Something tells me those guys we took down in there aren’t hardened criminals. They’re practically kids.”

Leclair muttered a curse. “I’d better go talk to the press before they print something they shouldn’t. Then again, when has that ever stopped them?”

Giving them a nod, she left the RV, but not before giving Mike a long look. Those two were going to need to get a room soon, Diego thought.

Fifteen minutes later, they were headed back to the SWAT compound. Diego tried not to let it show, but he was beat. Not physically, of course. He was a werewolf, which meant it was damn near impossible to be tired in that way. But mentally? He was drained. It had been one hell of a day, and something told him there were going to be a lot of days like it in the