Page 90

Kurt began to pace after the car drove away and rubbed the back of his neck repeatedly. Then he walked to where his water bottle was, took a huge swig, and then cursed.

“Something is really wrong here.”

“So, it's not just me feeling like a sitting duck?” Mack asked, cracked his neck, and yanked up his black tactical pants. The outfit was getting uncomfortable after days.

Plus, he needed a shower.

Kurt stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and they both stared at Nikolay Mikhailov’s home.

“No. You’re not alone,” he replied darkly.

After a long moment, Kurt walked over to a pile of weapons and began picking them up. Mack watched, wondering what he was doing.

“We’re pivoting boys.”

Mack’s brow lifted in question.

“Come on, wolf, we’re going over there.” The SLC smiled, but there was death in his eyes. “We are killing this fucker.”

Action time.

TEN MINUTES LATER, Kurt, Mack, and Ben—who’d also joined them—were standing in the Mikhailov’s living room. Oliver and Logan were outside on point.

A handful of Russian mobsters lay dead on the ground around them.

They’d done a quick search of the property and found drawers pulled open and clothes flung everywhere.

“She’s packed and fled,” Ben said.

“Why?”

“Good question.” Kurt slammed a door closed and stalked back out to the living room where they now all stood.

If they’d realized when they first arrived, they could have kept one of the humans alive to interrogate, but anyway, hindsight and all that.

“Think she left the gangster?” Mack wondered as they waited.

“Unlikely. She might be joining him in Moscow.” Ben shrugged.

They had no idea if he was coming back today or tomorrow, or ever. But hiding out here was a smart move. Nikolay would walk right into their trap.

In theory.

Incoming.Oliver’s telepath had them all stiffening and then quickly preparing their weapons.

Well, that hadn’t taken long. Why send his wife away when he was only a short time behind her?

“Over there.” Kurt pointed, and Ben moved around one of the walls. “Game time boys. We aren’t taking any prisoners. Shoot to kill.”

Mack widened his legs, both hands gripping his weapon as he stood on the other side of the room.

They waited for the doors to open and their greatest enemy to step inside.

Confirming target is in sight and through the gates.

Mack’s heart pounded. He might not have been a Moretti warrior for as long as the rest of them, but the impact Xander, BioZen, and subsequently Nikolay had had on his life was enormous.

He was a subspecies of their race because of it.