Annie Nicholas - Omegas In Love

Tears blurred his eyelashes as he blinked them away. The pain eased enough to let him breathe. Had he made too much noise? The dog’s bark probably masked it. Hesitant, he got to his feet. When his balls didn’t fall off from the abuse, he tiptoed out of the empty room onto a catwalk that ran along the length of the building. It overlooked the large central storage area containing some wooden crates.

Quickly, he crouched and crawled to the stairs, descending before someone spotted him. The hummingbird beat of his pulse made him light headed, and anxiety gripped his lungs in an iron fist.

At the bottom, he pressed against the wall and listened.

Nothing.

Not a voice or steps. A scent lingered in the air. Weak, the smell could belong to any shifter. Tough to track.

Quiet as a phantom, Tyler crept deeper into the warehouse. Offices lined the wall, most were empty. Entering the last one, the air left his lungs.

Her scent filled the room.

But no Katrina.

She was gone.

Wavering hope destroyed, he stared at the empty, cold room. So close. He hung his head. They’d kept the most precious person in the world prisoner here. She must have been frightened, especially after Spice escaped, leaving her alone.

Something reflected the light on the floor. Liquid…He knelt by the small puddle and dipped his finger. Cool and smooth, it coated his skin. He rubbed it and sniffed. His bones turned to ice.

Blood.

Tyler eased down onto his stomach as he imagined Katrina lying there hurt, imagined her feeling abandoned and alone.

The puddle blurred.

Swiping his palm over his face, he removed the wetness. His beast howled for revenge and he’d get it. Standing on feet made of lead, Tyler wiped the blood onto his jeans.

Fury crawled around his gut on all fours until he was panting from the intense loss clawing at his heart. The blood confirmed his fears. Until then, her injury had only been a possibility.

The door hinge creaked behind him and he tensed. His beast jumped to the forefront of his mind. He spun around in time to catch a tackle to his chest.

Ceiling rolled overhead, then the floor skidded across his back, burning through his t-shirt. Something heavy rode his chest. He focused on it and recognized one of Chen’s guards, the one who’d carried Katrina away in Chinatown.

Wimp versus warrior–he didn’t need to be a genius to guess the end results.

Tyler used the force of his backward slide and turned it into reverse somersault. His assailant lost his grip. Not wasting any time, Tyler did what any skinny dude could do well.

Run.

He wouldn’t be of any use to Katrina dead.

The Asian werewolf followed, but hadn’t bothered to shift yet.

Tyler could almost sense the out-stretched hand reaching for him as he neared the exit. Not bothering to slow down, he smashed into the door while he turned the knob, sending it crashing open.

A surprised yelp from a familiar angry Rottweiler greeted him.

After a split second of what-the-fucking, Tyler took off, running to the right and followed the water’s edge.

The dog joined in the chase, barking.

Short of breath, Tyler glanced over his shoulder at the parade of kick-my-ass following him.

The Asian shifter had caught up to the Rotie, who growled and snapped. Drool hung like a rope from its flapping lips.

Without a skip, the guard growled and snapped back.

Snarling, the dog twisted into the shifter’s path, tripping them both into a tangle of limbs and teeth.

Leaping into a full out sprint, Tyler didn’t bother looking back as the sounds of conflict grew louder in pitch behind him. He’d escaped. A miracle.

Tyler’s pulse pounded in his ears and made it difficult to hear. The fight between shifter and stray dog faded the further he sprinted.

Darkness blanketed the docks and made searching for another ambush tricky, which meant it also would make finding him difficult. Using the night, Tyler found a corner to hide in. Hands on knees, he fought to catch his breath.

He glanced around the edge of the building, trying to keep hidden. The Rottweiler limped back toward the warehouse and his attacker lay unmoving on the ground.

What the hell was he doing? Eric and Daedalus better arrive soon before they needed to add his funeral to their to-do list. He surveyed the shipyard. Katrina could be anywhere. Hope took a gondola ride down to his gut. He stared at the midnight water, waiting for inspiration. They’d brought her here for a reason. People didn’t come to the docks for kicks.

He needed the pack’s help, but they were spread thin across the city. How long before Eric could gather them?

His gaze wandered to the crane. It had stopped loading cargo containers on the farthest ship while he’d been in the warehouse. Kind of odd. The dock was empty of any activity. No trucks or dock hands moving around.

A memorable high pitched squeal set his teeth on edge, then faded. Tony’s van had made that kind of noise when he’d rescued him from Chinatown, something about a fan belt slipping. Sticking to the shadows, Tyler moved toward the sound. He scurried across open ground to the still crane, edging around to the other side, where he found Tony’s white van parked by the ship. Tyler stopped so fast he had to grab the crane for balance. He blinked a few times and closed his mouth. Where was the pack? His alpha and the vampire?

Tony got out of the driver’s side. The thin Asian shifter kept glancing over his shoulder as he made his way to the rear of the vehicle.

Leaning forward, Tyler couldn’t calm his racing heart. Exposed in the open, his pack mate could be attacked at any moment. Why would Tony come here without Eric and Daedalus? No other car followed him. Maybe they’d gotten lost?

About to step out of his hiding spot, Tyler watched as Tony opened the van’s back doors and carried out a struggling, tied-up Spice.

Time stopped. Betrayal bit into Tyler. Tony had been helping Chen?

Rescuing Tyler in Chinatown, helping read Katrina’s diary, and taking Spice to the hospital was all a hoax?

The tip about the empty house, which exploded, had come from him. God, they were so naive. But Tony smelled Vasi. He’d been at pack meetings. Could Chen have been planning this invasion for that long?

Tyler shook his head to snap out of it. No wonder Chen always kept a step ahead of them. He’d known where they lived, who Eric’s mate was, and moved Katrina from the warehouse before Tyler arrived there.

Taking a deep breath, Tyler strode to the van, behind Tony, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, dude.”

Tony jumped as if the grim reaper had just struck him. He dropped Spice to the ground in a heap.

She snarled around a gag stuffed in her mouth and tore at her restraints. Her eyes bulged as she gazed from him to Tony.

“Tyler!” The traitor spun around, sweat beading on his forehead. “W–what are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d be dead by now, packmate?” He spat out the last word and shoved the young shifter against the van. No one had ever tried to murder him before. “What are you doing, Tony?” He couldn’t shake off his disbelief.

Straightening, Tony met his glare. “I’m making a trade. Spice and Katrina are the payment.”

“What?”

“You’ve no idea what’s it like to be a shifter in another country. Hunted and feared. You’re spoiled with pack meetings and pretending to be human. Day jobs, cars, houses, credit cards, movies, restaurants…” Tony stopped and caught his breath. A tear streaked along his cheek. “My sisters were kidnapped by Chen’s pack a few weeks ago. They’ve forced me to help them or they’ll take my little sisters to China for breeding.” He swallowed, determination squaring his jaw. “I can’t let you have her.” He gestured to Spice behind him.