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All the Hounds of Hell

Eveline is part of the famed Blakemore pack, jet-setting around the world as an ambassador until she suddenly come upon her newfound mate, and she will have to choose beeen career, family and love. Darren is the fourth son of an Alpha, without prospect for a career, title, money, nothing but a bloodline, until a girl from afar gives him the opportunity to reshape his future. Kaden is the infamous Hellhound at the head of a powerful pack until challenge comes at a dangerous price, while the fact that he never found his mate is slowly killing him. Mishka is a lone wolf going from job to job, a hired gun, mercenary. You pay, he'll do. Until opportunity strikes for a change and joining force might become the better

Lyv_Aiken · Fantasía
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40 Chs

Chapter 35 - We're Almost There

— Eveline —

"When are they—?" I started asking but Mishka raised his hand sharply, shutting me up, and swung around, putting himself at my back facing the other way.

I turned and heard footsteps coming our way.

Before I could see who it was, Mishka unsheathed a gun as long as my forearm and a little boxy—it looked like it could shoot a lot of bullets, really fast—and aimed it in front of him.

I couldn't see yet who it was.

"Why are you here?" he asked the darkness.

There was no answer.

"John changed his mind again?" he asked.

"I don't make the calls," a voice answered. It was one of the guys that was in the kitchen. The one that seemed to know a bit about my brother. The one dressed in military fatigues.

"He wants her dead?" Mishka asked.

Crap!

"That's his call," military man answered.

"No, it's not. She's not dying," Mishka said, unwavering from his shooting stance.

"Why?"

"I'm not losing twelve millions."

"What?" asked the other confused.

"It's the ransom I'm getting for her. I can cut you in if you want."

"You have proofs?"

Mishka took his left hand from his gun, palm up. "I'm gonna reach for my phone now," he said and moved slowly to his pocket to retrieve the cellphone. Then he raised it up so that when he'd move through the apps, he'd still have an eye on the other guy. I saw him open the text app, and select the conversation he created with my brother. Then he turned the phone to show it to the darkness.

I saw the other guy appear slowly toward us, his gun aimed at Mishka.

He got close, read the conversation but kept an eye on Mishka with his gun up. With his spare hand, traced his finger on the screen to see the rest of the conversation. Once done, he took a few steps back and out of reach. Mishka put the phone back inside his pocket.

"It's a lot of money," Military Guy said.

"I know," answered Mishka.

"You think the guy will pay? I think he's gonna kill you."

"He's not because he won't get his sister otherwise, I'm gonna be far gone when he's gonna get her and make his move on this place."

Military Guy made a sound, pensive.

"No deals," said a voice from behind us.

"Hello Amir," said Mishka calmly, but I saw muscles in his shoulders tense up.

"She's a liability. Drop your gun."

"He got Westley and Elijah killed," Mishka said. "You think he's taking care of you. He's following someone's order, and every time they talk things go FUBAR. Why do you think we ended up with a bunch of additional amateurs. They don't even have weapons, they're here as cannon fodder."

"Better them," said Amir.

"You think you're gonna leave this place quickly. The rest of this pack is waiting to take the first one to step out of here. This is a siege, and the moment the Hellhounds arrive things will only get worse. The only thing that will hold him back is having her alive. She dies, and he's gonna level the building on us," answered Mishka.

"He's not gonna know," said Amir.

"He will. He's asked visual confirmations of her being alive every fifteen minutes," said Military Man.

"We can fake those," Amir said.

"No, he asks a question she must answer in a video. So no staged photo of proofs of life or pre-made videos."

"What Ethan said," said Mishka.

While they said this, Mishka slid his left foot a bit back until it touched the toes of my left shoe, then slid it to the left. Then put it back in its original position. Not moving the rest of his body in the process

I wasn't sure but it felt deliberate. He was trying to say something, but what? Move to the left? I couldn't think of anything else.

I grabbed the hem of my shirt as I would if I'd been nervous but kept my eyes on Mishka for a sign, any sign.

Two seconds after the men stopped talking I saw the slightest contraction of muscles in his neck. I took it as the sign and threw myself left and down, and slid my hand under my shirt to grab the gun there.

For a split second, I thought I might've spooked too quickly, but Mishka moved right and shot Ethan. Three bullets in the face. So I turned and aimed at Amir.

A bunch of wolves rushed in behind Ethan and before Ethan's body had the time to hit the ground Mishka was already shooting at them, so he couldn't take care of Amir.

Amir shot a few bullets where I had been a second before, as I shot at him until I emptied the clip. At least three bullets made it to his chest and as he adjusted his aim to where I was now, I jump instinctively, my claw lengthening, the gun falling on the ground, useless.

I went straight for his neck faster than he could aim. His gun pressed uselessly against my flank as I grabbed whatever I could and pulled.

I felt the cartilage of his oesophagus shatter under my grip, the blood pouring on my hand as my elongated claws dug all the way through, scrapping on the spine on the way. Whatever warm flesh and muscles were there, came out as I pulled my fist away. Blood sprayed on my face, I felt the warm wet trickle splash on my skin and drip down in a disturbingly soft caress. The metallic scent of blood thick in my mouth. The wolves in me elated at the scent, at the violence, begging for more. But my human mind in shock at what I just did.

His gun barked pointlessly behind me.

I could see in the faint light, the man's tongue pulled out through his neck like a grotesque short tie.

I heaved my feet uncertain, as the man that I just killed fell to the ground in a gory mess.

Someone grabbed my arm and I flipped. My heart going in full panic mode, I yelped.

"Shhhhhh," said Mishka as he blocked my free hand coming at him in an attack. "We're leaving now." He handed me back my gun. I don't know when he grabbed it, but I took it numbly.

"Reload," he told me. I shook myself out of my dazed and reloaded the gun, letting the clank of the discarded magazine resonate on the floor behind us as we moved forward.

I barely noticed where we were going. One foot here, another there. I just did what he did.

When we landed with our two feet on the grass, he moved for me to lay low, then took out a small flashlight, not unlike those mounted on weapons, like those used to kill Aisling and her kids.

He clicked it on and off a few times in arrhythmic sequences. I didn't see anything, but something made Mishka believe it was time to move. My eyes were out of focus. I was tired, exhausted, my mind couldn't think anymore. My body followed automatically but I feared if we stopped again, I may fall on my ass and not be able to get up again. We moved mostly under the cover of the trees.

It took a while. Too long. Why couldn't I be home yet?

I heard crunches in the forest and my mind instantly sharpened again, my gun raised ready to shoot whatever was coming our way.

Mishka put his hand softly above mines and the gun and pushed down until it was aimed at the forest floor.

"Are you okay Miss Devon?" asked a male voice from the darkness.

I just nodded, too shaken to talk.

Three men approached. I recognized two of them. They were Blakemore.

My legs gave out and I crumbled on the ground. "I wanna go home," I whined like a lost child.

Mishka bent down and put his hands on my shoulders. Which got the other men to aim their weapons at him.

"Get up," he told me, ignoring the men and their guns. "We're almost there."