Wolf Untamed (SWAT - Special Wolf Alpha Team #11) - Paige Tyler Page 0,6

relieved. Tina would be okay.

“You still with me, Diego?” a deep voice asked.

Diego opened his eyes once again to see Hale leaning over him, concern written all over his face. For a moment, he wondered how the hell his friend was there. Then he stopped worrying about the meaningless shit and asked the only question that really mattered.

“The girl?”

Hale nodded, gripping Diego’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The paramedics just took her out. They’re loading her on the helicopter right now. It will leave the second you’re on it. You just have to hold on.”

Then he was on a gurney and paramedics were shoving him full speed through the abandoned stores and out into the freezing rain. But no matter how fast they moved, Hale kept up with them, stuck right there at his side, holding Diego’s hand in his.

“Just a little bit farther,” Hale told him. “The bird is in the empty lot across the street. We’re going to wheel you straight there. Just hold on.”

Black spots swirled above Diego, blurring out the glare of the streetlamps and flashlights around them. He swore he could hear his heart thudding in his chest and the sound it was making did nothing to convince him that it wanted to continue the effort.

“I don’t think I can,” he mumbled, his words slurring as something metallic and nasty filled his mouth and throat, making it difficult to breathe, much less talk. “Tell my family that it didn’t hurt. That…it was quick.”

That was a lie, of course. In reality, the pain in his chest felt like there was a living creature inside him, slowly digging its way out. But he didn’t want his mom and dad or brother and sisters to know that. It would make what happened to him even harder on them.

Hale cursed, his eyes misty even as his lip curled in anger. “None of that shit,” he growled. He frigging growled. And even though Diego knew it was nothing but a pain-driven delusion, he thought for a second his best friend’s eyes were glowing vivid yellow-gold. “Don’t even think you’re getting out of that SWAT assessment this easy. You said you were going to do it, and you can guarantee I’m going to hold you to that promise. Now, suck it up and keep breathing until you get to the hospital. Or I’m telling your mom you gave up because you were afraid to face humiliation in front of me and the rest of the SWAT team.”

Diego wasn’t so sure his friend’s speech was having the desired effect, but he supposed he couldn’t blame the guy for trying. He would have done the same thing.

“Don’t give up on me, Diego,” Hale urged, his voice barely audible over the thump of the helicopter blades that signaled they were getting close to the bird. “Don’t give up on yourself. There are hundreds of people out there waiting for someone like you to help them out of whatever shit they’ve found themselves in. Thousands, maybe. You’ve spent years helping other people, but if you ever want to help another living soul, you’re going to have to fight to stay alive. Fight like you’ve never fought before.”

Diego let those thoughts roll around in his head as the paramedics lifted the gurney into the helicopter and the damn rain finally stopped hitting him. Outside, Hale was shouting at him to fight—for himself and all the people who’d depend on him in the future.

The doors of the helicopter slammed closed, shutting out whatever else Hale might have said. Then a paramedic was leaning over him with an IV bag and the bird was taking off. As he drifted off into the darkness of unconsciousness, Hale’s words echoed in his head. His friend was right. Helping other people was his purpose for living. If he wanted to keep doing it, he was going to have to make it through this.

There was just one problem with that.

He wasn’t sure he could.

Chapter 1

Dallas, Texas, Present Day

“Forget it, Diego. No way in hell am I letting you walk into that diner with some psycho in there.”

Diego Martinez sighed, resisting the urge to point out to Senior Corporal Mike Taylor, his squad leader, SWAT officer in charge on this incident, fellow werewolf, and all-around good guy, that calling a suspect a “psycho” was considered politically incorrect. Even if, in this case, it was almost certainly correct.

“I know you’re trying to protect me, but you have to let me do my