I stopped moving at the biting command, and Girard carried on issuing his instructions.
“Get back to the SUV. They grabbed Wes and drove off.”
I glanced over my shoulder. What the fuck? They’d taken my friend? Anger and fear propelled me forward, and I reached the side of the SUV before anyone else. As I shifted back, still breathing heavily, Charmaine ran up as her brown wolf and Girard and Foster arrived, both in human form and carrying Ames between them.
I opened the door of the first SUV and they put him in the back.
Charmaine glanced at them, seeming to take note, then she sniffed the air and howled before taking off down the road.
“She’s got the scent,” Girard muttered. “Foster, get Ames to the hospital. I have to take Jo and recover Wesley.”
I shivered. That almost made it sound like Girard believed my friend might be dead.
I climbed into the passenger seat, and before I’d even buckled up, Girard spun his wheels in the gravel and we squealed off.
I clung to the handle in the SUV ceiling as we careened around bends, following Charmaine, who was still some distance up ahead, loping along on the scruffy grass near the roadside.
Farther ahead still, a large box van was just in view. Girard pressed harder on the gas and the SUV responded.
We started to gain on the van, but the back door opened, and a figure I couldn’t quite see pushed something out. It bounced along the road.
It bounced and bounced again, The headlights catching on the body of my PA before he rolled close enough to be under our wheels.
“Wes!” I screamed, and Girard yanked hard on the steering wheel as we skidded to the right to avoid running him over.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.” I fumbled to unbuckle my seat belt and get free from the SUV before running across the asphalt. “Oh my God.” There weren’t any other words.
His face was bruised and bleeding, and he lay at an awkward angle, his limbs crooked.
Charmaine touched my shoulder as I crouched beside him. “Is he…” She swallowed, the sound noisy. “Is he alive?”
Thank God she hadn’t asked if he was dead. For some reason, her turn of phrase was important.
I reached for his neck, holding my breath, not moving a single muscle, wanting to still my own heart to avoid confusing the two until I found his pulse. It was sluggish and slow, but I nodded.
“It’s there,” I confirmed, my voice thick as I forced the words through a throat that ached with the sudden need to cry.
I had to hold it together. Wes needed a hospital.
“We all need to get out of here. It might still be dangerous. They could come back.”
“No. We have to go after them.” Charmaine practically vibrated with the adrenaline still running through her from leading the chase as her wolf. “We can rip them apart.”
But we had more important things to do. Our friends were hurt.
“I don’t think it’s the last time we’ll see them,” I murmured, and I would have added more, but I looked up as footfalls sounded behind me.
“The hospital’s expecting us,” Girard said as he clipped his radio back to his belt. “Foster just arrived there with Ames. Help me with Wes.”
He crouched next to me and started to scoop him up. Wes groaned and my eyes filled with tears at his sound of pain.
What the hell was going on at Gold Moon? What had we gotten into?
28
PATRICK
Istood outside the ER again — it was like déjà-vu. And again, the attack had been on the team of people around Jo. I breathed heavily through my nose as Owen Vulcan’s face flashed into my mind, along with the memory of when he’d discussed going after her.