Liza didn’t hesitate. Lifting the gun, she fired on the doorknob, watching the metal knob shatter and fly from its secured position as the door released.
Kicking it in, Liza threw herself into the room, her weapon lifting, instantly finding her first target as she brought herself up with her back to the wall and froze.
Blood splattered along the wall on the far side of the room where a Coyote Breed was slumped, staring sightlessly, lifelessly out at the scene before him.
Claire’s scream pierced the night again, but she was backed into a corner, a weapon similar to the one Liza held in her hands, shaking, trained on Stygian, then to Rule Breaker, then the Coyote and finally at Dog. Her finger tightened on the trigger.
“Claire. Please help me,” Liza cried out, keeping the plea just weak enough to pierce the haze Claire was in with the appearance of another’s pain.
“Liza?” Claire didn’t sound dazed or uncertain, but the weapon was still shaking as Stygian and the others watched her now, clearly uncertain of what to do next.
“Claire.” It was Dog who spoke up, his voice holding a soothing, tranquil tone Liza hadn’t really expected he could possess. “Do you remember me, sweetheart?”
Claire stared at him, wide-eyed, terror whitening her face, though only a cold, hard look filled her gaze.
Claire licked her lips and gave a jerky nod. “Why are you here? Are you with them?” She gestured to the dead Breed.
“Them?” Dog glanced around. “Are there more, Claire?”
“There were two.” A sob broke in her voice. “They were waiting when I came from the shower.” Tears spilled from her eyes as she steadied the weapon. “Were you with them too?”
“Claire, Stygian wouldn’t hurt us.” Liza laid her own weapon aside, reality setting in as she began shaking as hard as Claire had been.
Her friend’s gaze jerked to her, then back to the Breeds. At the door to the room Ashley, Emma and Shiloh were holding Chelsea back and keeping her quiet.
“Liza.” Claire’s lips trembled violently. “They were going to take us,” she suddenly whispered. “They were going to take both of us, and they were going to hurt us—”
“I know,” Liza assured her quickly. She had to get Claire calm and settled. She couldn’t say more. “Claire, Dog, Stygian and Rule are here to help us, honey. Let me have the gun.”
Liza took a step toward her.
A low, barely perceptible rumble of a growl feathered through the room, causing Liza’s head to jerk around and Claire’s weapon to jerk back up, her finger tightening on that trigger again.
It was aimed directly at Stygian’s chest.
“Claire, please, don’t hurt Stygian.” The sudden terrified tremble in her voice must have pierced Claire’s terror long enough for her friend to finally realize who she was training the weapon on, and who was thrown back against the wall, dead.
They knew that Coyote.
The weapon suddenly fell from Claire’s hand.
In a movement so fast Liza swore he was a blur, Rule caught the weapon a second before he caught Claire in his arms.
She slumped against his chest, unconscious, lying limply against him as Stygian and Dog, Emma, Ashley and Shiloh suddenly started moving.
Rule lifted Claire into his arms and rushed through the empty shell of a frame where the large bedroom window had once been. Outside, lights were swirling, flashing as the sound of a heli-jet landed in the yard outside.
Stygian was snapping orders into the comm-link at his ear while Dog was quickly going over the dead Coyote’s body.
Then, and only then did Liza see the other body stretched out on the other side of the bed.
Only the boots at first were visible.
Stepping closer, Liza lifted a trembling hand to her lips as she suddenly turned to Stygian.
He was directing the female Coyotes, giving orders in a hard, commanding tone when he turned quickly to her as though he knew exactly where she stood.
His gaze dropped to her feet.
“We have another!” Stygian suddenly called out. “Apprise cleanup we have two assailants. I repeat, we have another body.”
Stepping over to her, he stared down at the human, stretched out on his back, his dark gaze staring lifelessly up at the ceiling.
Lank, dark brown hair fell back from his face while the pale, hard-angled planes of his face seemed twisted into an expression of bemusement.
“Holden Mayhew’s brother,” she whispered. “His name is Harlen.”
Holden Mayhew had been, Liza had hoped, the only psychotic in the family.
Evidently she was wrong.
The month before, his brother had died attempting to first rape, then weeks later, kidnap Isabelle Martinez.
Holden’s fury at his inability to have the niece of the president of the Nation had so infuriated him that once he’d learned she was a Breed’s lover, he’d attempted to abduct her and sell her to the Genetics Council–loyal Coyotes who had made the bargain to give him a fortune for her.
It had been his brother, Harlen, who had first warned Holden of Isabelle’s interest in Malachi. Liza hadn’t really believed such insanity could be hereditary.
“She killed them both,” Liza whispered as she turned her gaze to the Coyote still sitting motionlessly against the far wall, his blood sprayed around him from the chest wound he’d sustained.
“Good for her.” Stygian’s tone was savage. “Her father’s been notified and she’s being flown to a secured section of the hospital now. She’s just in shock, unconscious, but we want to be certain she’s okay otherwise.”
Liza nodded. Joe would be at the hospital. He would ensure only the Nation’s healers oversaw her care rather than the Breeds, who would most certainly use this to their own advantage if given the chance.
“This was my room,” Liza suddenly realized.
Stygian’s gaze jerked back to her as two Breeds moved past them and began preparing the bodies for transport.
“What did you say?” he growled.
Liza turned her gaze up to him. “Until a week ago,” she said faintly, “this was my bedroom. I wanted to paint the walls in Isabelle’s former room before I moved in, and we weren’t able to get it done quickly. Claire was sleeping on the couch until we finished it. I just finished moving in days ago.” She had to swallow before she could go on. “They were coming after me again, weren’t they, Stygian?”