No, but it sure didn’t sound good. Her wolf coiled, raring to strike.
“Many sea divers and hunters use them to defend themselves against predators. They have a cylinder of compressed gas in the hilt. Do you know what that means?” He was so confident and at ease, so sure of his power, that she suspected they had done this many times before. “That means that when a person stabs the animal and presses this little trigger, the gas is injected deep into the wound, freezing their organs.”
How fucking charming. Makenna licked her lips, giving the net holders a sidelong glance. They hadn’t moved. But they would; she knew that. She didn’t doubt that she could claw her way out of the net, but being pinned down for just a few moments would leave her helpless against them.
She had no combat training. She was more of a scrapper than a fighter. And she was outnumbered and facing fanatical nut jobs complete with a net and a knife. Not exactly a positive situation. That didn’t mean she’d roll over and take this shit.
“I used it on a bear shifter once. It took him a few minutes to die. But smaller shifters like cougars and foxes tend to die in under a minute.”
She clenched her hands into fists as her stomach sank. Bastard.
“I’m wondering just how long you’ll take to die.” But he didn’t move to find out. Just stared at her with a cruel twist to his mouth. If he was trying to taunt her with anticipation, he was doing a good job.
Her peripheral vision alerted her to movement. The net holders were edging behind her and—
The leader charged at her. The others all lunged forward . . . catching the net as it flew over her head and pulling it down. It was heavier and thicker than she’d expected; the weight of it combined with the strength of the humans took her down to her hands and knees, trapping her. It happened so fucking fast. And here was the damn knife.
Chanting a fucking prayer, the leader tried stabbing her through one of the square holes. Makenna moved with the enhanced speed of her kind, rolling onto her back and dodging the knife. The leader stumbled and almost lost his footing. Taking advantage, Makenna clawed at the net. It took a few slashes to slice through the rope to create a big enough gap and—
And now the knife was coming at her again.
Faster than the human could ever hope to be, Makenna lunged upright and grabbed the wrist holding the blade. “Looks like God didn’t hear you.” She yanked his wrist hard, twisting it until something snapped. Merciless, yes, but who gave a shit?
With a loud cry, he dropped the knife. It grazed her thigh as it fell through the hole in the net and hit the ground with a clang. Hyped on adrenalin, she barely felt the sting.
In one swift movement, Makenna leapt to her feet, came up behind him—twisting his broken wrist behind his back in the process—and curved her free arm around his front, pressing her claws to his throat.
Everyone froze.
“Now we’re all going to calm the fuck down,” snapped Makenna. Her wolf flexed her claws, not at all interested in calming down. “Boys, back away from the net—I don’t think I have to explain what will happen to your leader if you don’t.” The humans slowly edged back. “Wise decision.” The next thing on her agenda was getting away from this net. “Church Boy, we’re going to take a few slow steps forward.” She half expected him to try something. He didn’t.
As soon as they stepped off the net, she kicked it aside. “Now—”
The fire exit hatch flipped open, and a head popped out. Eyes wide, the male yelled, “She’s out back! She’s got Jeff!” The human toppled clumsily out of the hatch.
“Jeff,” drawled Makenna. “Is that your name? Not the kind that strikes fear into the heart of a person, is it?”
The leader sneered, “I do not converse with demons.”
The sounds of running footsteps made her tense. It was more like a stampede. “Looks like your other friends are joining us.” Sure enough, they all hurried out of the side alley . . . holding stakes? She snorted at Jeff. “Stakes? Seriously?” He actually flushed.
They slowed as they took in the situation, seeming confused as to what to do. That told her that Jeff was their leader too. He’d probably stationed them outside the front of the building as a decoy, forcing her to leave through the back—exactly where he’d be waiting.
“You might want to tell them to stay the fuck away.”
Instead, Jeff’s mouth curved into an ugly smirk as he spread his free arm out wide. “Do your worst,” he dared Makenna. “Charge!” he hollered at the humans, shocking the shit out of her. The crazy bastards did. With a roar, they came at her with their stakes.
“Fuck.” She could run, she could stand and try to—
They halted. Just stopped dead, casting wary glances at something over her shoulder. She inhaled deeply. Ryan. Relief surged heavily through her and her wolf. Makenna didn’t think she’d ever been so glad to see anyone in her life.
He came to her side without making a single sound, radiating fury and danger. And for once, his emotions were evident in his expression and body language. It was only then that she heard other noises . . . footsteps, light and agile enough to go undetected by most. She inhaled deeply again, picking up other scents—Jaime, Dante, Tao, Trick, Dominic, Marcus, and Roni.
With one glance, Ryan took in the scene—took in the open hatch, the gathering of humans, the clawed net, the knife glinting beneath it, and Makenna’s hostage. It was easy enough to read what had happened. “They used a net on you?” rumbled Ryan as the other wolves fanned out around them.