Beside him, Michael did the same.
Hank prowled ahead, taking the point. The man moved swiftly and quietly, becoming one with the shadows. Isaiah was just behind him with Meredith by his side. Benjamin and Kevin brought up the rear.
The silent, deadly group began to move in on the building. Quinn said a prayer of hope as he eased in through a broken window. He inhaled and caught a musky scent. Not his sister, but definitely a wolf. They were on the right track.
Hope flared in his chest, but he tamped it down. He’d been disappointed too many times before. He wouldn’t celebrate until he had Chrissten safe.
Beside him, Michael pointed toward a stairway to their left. It went down. That was good enough for him. He knew they’d most likely be in the basement even though the entire building would have to be checked.
The two of them eased down the narrow stairs. He took the lead. Both of them had 9mms in their hands. Isaiah had given them the weapons before they’d left the bar with the instructions to shoot to kill. Not that Quinn needed any instruction. He was good at killing.
Regular bullets wouldn’t kill a werewolf, but the ones in these guns were specially coated in silver and would slowly poison any werewolf if they weren’t immediately removed. They weren’t messing around and taking the chance of letting any rogue werewolves escape. These males had kidnapped a female and had to pay for their actions.
But the guns were to be used only as a last resort. The sound of gunfire would be heard from the street and they didn’t want to attract unwanted attention from the authorities. That wouldn’t help anyone.
Dust stirred the air around them, tickling Quinn’s nose. He strained his ears, trying to hear a sound. Something. Anything.
The place felt deserted.
A lump of dread practically closed his throat. He tightened his grip on his weapon and turned the corner at the bottom of the wooden stairs, keeping his back to the wall. Behind him, Michael followed, silent and ready.
A slight stirring of the air had Quinn whirling to the left, gun raised and ready. Hank held up his hand and pointed to the right. Damn, the guy was silent when he moved. He looked more like a soldier than any of them with his short-cropped hair and icy blue eyes. He exuded a deadly sense of determination.
Quinn was suddenly overwhelmed by the support these people had given him. Without even knowing Chrissten, they were ready to lay their lives down for her.
Hank ghosted by him and headed down a narrow hallway. He kept his back to the wall, searching each room as he went by to make sure it was clear.
Quinn moved up beside Hank, keeping his eyes and weapon trained ahead of them while Michael watched their backs. Most of the rooms were dirty and largely empty. But several showed signs of usage. There was a table and some lab equipment. The remainders of a meal. A cot with a sleeping bag tossed on it.
On the immediate right of the corridor was a door with a lock. Quinn’s heart leapt when he saw the shiny new lock lying on the floor amid the dirt and dust of years.
He leapt toward the door and flung it open. Several blankets were heaped on the floor. He stumbled toward them and fell to his knees. He fisted his hands in the thin material and held it to his face. He could smell his sister.
Behind him, Hank was still, but Quinn knew he was there. He looked up at the other male. “We missed them.”
Hank said nothing, but Quinn could feel his quiet fury.
Michael stuck his head in the room. “They’re not long gone. There’s a coffeepot in the next room and it’s still warm.”
Quinn jumped to his feet and raced from the room. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He took the stairs three at a time with Hank and Michael behind him. While Michael took the time to call out to the others, Quinn and Hank hit the street.
“You go right,” he told Hank. The other male took off without hesitation, like a bloodhound on hunt.
Quinn went left, sniffing the air as he went. If he could only catch her scent. Or even that of the other male. His heart was racing and there was a roaring in his head. He was so close.
He could hear the others pouring from the building and fanning out to search. He kept his gaze on his surroundings, scanning, looking for anything that might lead him to his sister. Several homeless people slept beneath a makeshift cardboard lean-to. Another huddled by a dumpster desperately trying not to be noticed.
It was difficult to try and pull Chrissten’s scent from the air, which was filled with the exhaust from vehicles, garbage from the dumpsters and the stench of human urine, sweat and vomit. City smells. He could pass within a dozen feet of his sister and possible miss her.
His chest tightened even as he fought his growing despair. He couldn’t lose her. Not this time.
A white van whizzed by the top of an alleyway. Quinn ran toward it, legs pumping, but it was gone before he could catch it. He managed to catch part of the license plate. Maybe it was nothing, but he’d have Craig check it out later.
He was about to turn back down the alley when a scream echoed in his head. He jerked around as panic flooded through him. Bethany. She was in danger.
The mating link between them flared to life like a warning system. He knew she didn’t know how to use it, how to reach out to him. He’d closed the mental door between them when she’d asked him to, but that didn’t matter. Her terror broke down the barrier and reached through to him, galvanizing him to action.
Nostrils flaring, blood pumping, he raced toward the vehicles where he’d left her, praying he wasn’t about to lose another woman he loved. His search for his sister had taken him away from Bethany rather than toward her.
He heard them before he saw them. Bethany’s scream chilled his blood and Craig’s yell had him pushing himself past his limits. His lungs burned and his muscles strained and still he drove harder. He had to get to his family. Had to protect his mate and his brother.
He sprinted around the corner and found Bethany and the others under attack by two huge wolves. Saliva dripped from their jaws as they growled and cornered Teague. In spite of Isaiah’s orders, he’d partially shifted and was swiping at his attackers with razor-sharp claws. Neema was trying to get to her mate and Craig was desperately trying to get both women behind him even though both of them, with their wolf blood, were stronger than he was.
Quinn didn’t hesitate. To hell with keeping a low profile. His mate was in trouble.
He raised his weapon and fired, sending silver bullets flying toward the two large beasts, trying to distract them as much as hit them. One of them yelped as a bullet grazed him, but the other one managed to get out of the way in time to avoid being hit.
These were pureblood werewolves. They were incredibly fast and strong. Quinn started to change as he raced toward them, allowing his wolf to take over. He yanked off his shirt and threw it aside. At the last possible second, he tossed his gun toward Teague. “Catch.”
Teague quickly shifted back to full human form, snagged the weapon out of thin air and backed away from the beasts to place himself in front of the women and Craig.
His wolf surged forward. He managed to shed the last of his clothing just in time. He met the largest of the wolves head-on. The beast was huge with pitiless black eyes. He tried to clamp his jaw around Quinn’s neck so he could snap it. There was no doubt he could do it too.
At the last second, Quinn twisted aside and kicked at his opponent. He heard several more shots being fired and knew Teague was keeping the other wolf off him.
This wasn’t good. Even in this derelict area of the city someone would eventually call the cops. They couldn’t afford to have the authorities involved. The need for secrecy was paramount.
Head down and growling with fury, Quinn faced the other wolf. No way was he letting this beast anywhere near Bethany. She was his. To love and protect. His woman. His mate.