Her hands brushed hot, na**d chest when she used his body to steady her trembling one. Adrenaline and the alcohol still in her system made her movements unsteady. She lowered, her hands sliding on his skin until she hit the cotton of his sweats and she realized that in any other circumstances this would probably be indecent as she crouched before him until her face was even with his groin.
Her back brushed the walls, it made her realize he’d cornered her near the sink and wall rack for towels. He released her scalp as he backed away. She lifted her chin and barely detected his dark shadow move until he reached the doorway where faint light from the main house’s floodlights, which her father always kept on, made him easier to see, illuminated somewhat even through the closed bedroom curtains in his room.
She crouched there, realized her nightshirt was wadded at her waist and her bare legs were exposed. If a light was on Brawn would be able to see her underwear and it was an undignified position with her legs spread apart. She didn’t move though, afraid she’d fall over or make a sound. Help was coming and Brawn was close. She wasn’t alone.
New Species had amazing hearing and night vision. Her father had told her that once. The other thing he’d told her was that they had bloodhound scent capability. That’s what he called it. He said most of them could smell things that others couldn’t. Brawn had said he’d smelled four men inside her house.
How does he know they are male? She bit her lip to prevent her from whispering the question to him. He had said he’d also smelled animal blood. Boomer. He’d made that horrible sound before the barking had halted. Does he smell Boomer’s blood? That thought sobered her a lot.
She kept her gaze locked on the shadowy form of Brawn while he bent over, grabbed something from under his bed and backed into the bathroom. He remained there, as if he guarded her and it made her feel better until a creaking noise reached her ears. She knew it was the third step from the top. It always made that sound when stepped on and that meant someone was coming up the stairs.
Nothing made sense. Why would the man who killed Tina be inside her house? Brawn said he’d smelled four. If he said it, it was probably true. The man who’d killed Tina couldn’t have broken into her house that fast, which meant there were at least five of them. It might be a burglary ring targeting the neighborhood. She wanted to warn Brawn but feared making a sound.
The bedroom door suddenly exploded open with a loud crash as something struck it hard. Wood splintered and Becca threw her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream. She did jump, pressed her back tightly to the wall and managed to keep her terrified gaze locked on Brawn.
He didn’t move, the sound didn’t seem to startle him but then something dropped on the wood floor. Whatever it was sounded metal and it rolled—a distinctive sound. That got the big Species to move. He reared up to his feet, spun and her eyes widened as his body hit hers before she realized what was happening.
The air was shoved from her lungs by the force of his heavy body slamming into hers. She hit the floor on her side and his weight crushed her mercilessly when he covered her. A blast of painful, earsplitting proportions stabbed through her head and bright light blinded her even though her eyelids were closed. The floor even shook under her back and thighs from the force of whatever had exploded.
A roar tore from Brawn, further deafening her since his mouth was inches from her ear, and he rolled away. The weight was gone from her body, her eyes jerked open and she fought to suck air back into her lungs. She caught sight of him rushing out the bathroom door as the lights in the room were turned on and smoke hovered near the ceiling. It was white and billowed fast.
Brawn opened fire, the sound of the shots made her flinch and she gaped at the sight of him in just a pair of dark-gray sweats, a Berretta clasped in his hand. The muzzle flashed as bullets were discharged. Someone screamed, barely distinguishable in the melee. Brawn roared again, a fierce, terrifying sound, and threw his body backward into the bathroom.
Weird metal things slammed into the bathroom door inches from him. At least six of them, a few inches long, dug into the thin wood. Brawn lunged out of the bathroom, threw his big body at the bed and opened fire again. He only got off two shots before the gun either jammed or ran out of bullets.
Becca panted, too shocked to move and her eyes widened as three men in all black suddenly threw themselves on top of the New Species. He used his legs to throw one of them up off his body as she watched in horrified shock. The man hit the ceiling hard enough to make it rain plaster before he crashed to the bed, hit the side of it and bounced to the floor.
Move! Her mind screamed and she somehow scrambled to roll over. Her limbs felt heavy, disjointed from her brain and her ears rang from the loud noises. She was dizzy as she pushed up and slammed her palm painfully on the sink countertop. Metal brushed her fingertips and propelled her to struggle harder to rise to her knees. She turned her head to stare at Brawn.
Another of the attackers was thrown off him toward the bedroom door and the hallway. Brawn twisted his body, flipped his legs and sprang off the bed in the blink of an eye with the bed now between him and the bedroom door. He backed up, growled viciously and roared. His fingers curled clawlike at his sides and he bared sharp teeth. The man who’d hit the ceiling sat up and struggled to his feet.
Becca gripped the gun, swayed on her feet and stumbled closer to the bathroom door as she put her finger on the trigger. Brawn was defenseless without a gun, trapped between the bed and the windows and faced danger. She knew how to shoot and damn well would. Her father had raised her to never fire a gun unless she was ready to kill with it. She was.
She nearly reached the door when the stupid bastard who’d just risen from the floor tried to tackle Brawn. She froze as she watched the Species swipe his big hand at the guy in black, hit his throat then shoved hard with his other. The guy flew her way.
Something warm and wet sprinkled her face as the man Brawn had slashed collapsed on to the floor between the bed and the bathroom door. The attacker’s face was turned her way and there was no missing the horrifying sight of his slashed open face, from his ear to his mouth. The stranger’s eyes were wide open, terrified and he blinked. Blood flowed from the horrible wound, pooled on the floor under his mouth and he made a hissing sound. Lifeless eyes stared at Becca after he took his last breath.
Time froze. It was surreal, too shocking for her mind and her responses shut down until the blood slowly spreading across the floor nearly touched her toes. That yanked her to the present. Only seconds had passed, but she realized the wetness on her face was blood too.
Something metal hit the wood floor in the next room and rolled. She twisted away, hunched, trying to protect herself from the stun grenade. She was sure that was what made the sound. Brawn roared again but then she couldn’t hear anything over the loud explosion that tore through the bedroom and seemed to pierce her brain. Even with her eyes tightly closed and her back to it, she was blinded for a second by the white, searing light.
She managed to stay on her feet, recovered fast and spun back around as she straightened. The gun in her numb hands jerked up to point at the doorway and she gaped at the sight of Brawn sprawled motionless over part of the bed. He’d just fallen to his knees, his upper body rested on the mattress and his hair was spilled over the sheets. He didn’t move but she did notice his chest moving slightly and was assured he breathed.
Someone stepped in front of the doorway, obscuring her view of Brawn and she stumbled back. The guy wore all black, his face covered in a mask and goggles even hid his eyes. They were round tinted ones, not night vision gear, but smaller. Her hand shook as she remembered to keep the gun aimed at him.
“Easy,” he demanded gruffly. His hands slowly lifted away from his side, straight out, and she saw a strange, weapon in his hand. It wasn’t anything she’d ever seen before. It was bulky with a wide barrel, a longer version of a handgun, with a round cylinder at the base of it. She glanced at the metal things sticking in the door before her attention jerked to his covered face and eyes. That thing shot those. She knew it, though not what they were.
“Don’t move.” Her voice shook. “I will fire.”
“Easy,” he repeated, not moving a muscle. “You have no chance of survival if you kill me. Pull that trigger and my men will take you out. Do you understand me?”
Terror gripped her. She knew there were more of them, that he wasn’t bullshitting, but they’d killed Tina. They’d kill her too. They weren’t burglars. That fact sank in fast and hard. They dressed the way her father’s men did for covert operations. She’d seen enough of her dad’s laundry to know military issue when she saw it. What the f**k is going on?
“We came for the New Species.” He kept his voice low and calm. “That’s all. Lower the gun, miss. You’re not our target.”
“You can’t have him.” Her voice came out a little stronger. “I’m not stupid and I’m not lowering this gun. I won’t miss you.” She adjusted the aim to make sure he knew she pointed it at the center of his skull. “Tell your men to get the f**k out or I’ll be cleaning your brains off the walls for weeks. I called 9-1-1. The police should be here any second.”
“Fuck,” a male voice hissed from the other side of the wall, telling her that another man was inches from the door and within reach of the as**ole who filled the bathroom door.
“Tell your guy to back off.” Her finger tightened on the trigger. “I’m scared, freaked the hell out, and I might shoot you if I see the slightest movement.”
“Back off,” the guy who seemed in charge ordered. “She’s got a Berretta pointed straight at my head.”
“And I know how to use it,” she said for good measure. She glanced at the space between the guy’s head and the doorway and spotted Brawn still motionless. Her attention focused on the threat. “Move real slow and drop your weapon.”
His hand opened and the weird weapon landed on the dead guy on the floor. “Are you a cop?”
“No, but I won’t miss you.”
He cleared his throat. “Are you his security detail?”
“No but I’ll kill you to protect him. You aren’t taking him. Order your men to leave my house but you don’t move. You’re my insurance that they don’t try anything stupid. They do and you’re dead.”
“Your house? He lives with you?”
“Shut up and do what I said. Order your men out.”
He hesitated. “Fine.” The fingers of his open hand jerked at his side in a wave motion.
She relaxed slightly, a mistake on her part, thinking he’d silently ordered his men to leave with the hand signal. Instead bullets blasted through the walls. She pulled the trigger and threw her body to the floor.
Weight slammed down on her back. She couldn’t even scream from the pain of being crushed and the gun was torn from her fingers. Whoever had slammed into her shifted his weight and a hand fisted painfully in her hair, forcing her head back. She gasped in air and screamed then.
An elbow nailed her in the back, cutting the sound off from the fresh pain and the body lifted. She spotted her gun near the toilet, too far to grab before she was hauled up by the vicious grip fisting her hair at the base of her neck. She swayed on her feet, clutched at the gloved hand and realized she’d missed killing the son of a bitch when he spoke.
“A couple inches off your mark but you clocked my cheek.” He sounded pissed. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.”
He shoved her hard. She slammed into the wall and groaned. She turned, knew she would die and prayed her father had gotten lucky with his date. He’d have heard the explosions and gunfire from the main house. The bastards had either killed her dad before they’d attacked her house or he was spending the night elsewhere. Otherwise he’d have come after her by now.
She glared at the son of a bitch who had her trapped. It was satisfying to see the tear in the black material near his ear, red showed from the bloody wound the bullet had inflicted and she hoped it left a hell of a scar. Her chin rose as she glared at him and her fingers fisted at her sides.
“Fuck you.”
Two more black-clad figures entered the bathroom, weird weapons drawn and they pointed them at her. One of them spoke. “You okay, Randy?”
“Fine,” their leader sighed. “She nicked my cheek but I dodged for the most part.”
She looked up and realized they’d shot through the wall separating the bedroom and bathroom too high to have hit where she’d been standing. It was confusing since she’d been sure they were trying to kill her.
“Who are you?”
Randy reached out suddenly and grabbed her by her throat, yanked her away from the wall and fisted her hair again. He pulled hard enough to jerk her head back as he pulled her tight against him. She could detect cigarettes on his breath, which fanned through the material over his mouth.
“Is she one of them?” One of his men stepped to the side of her.
“Nope. Human. I’m sure. She’s not a New Species. Her eyes are normal.”
Someone else entered the bathroom. “We’re picking up chatter. Our second team just intercepted the cops. They are coming. We’ve got four minutes.”
“Fuck,” Randy hissed. He let go and shoved her against the wall. He grabbed his uninjured ear and tapped it.
“This is alpha dog. We have a female inside the male’s bathroom. She’s obviously screwing him since she admitted it’s her house and they are both locked in his room.” He paused for seconds. “She’s alive. I checked and she’s not one of them—she’s human.” He paused again. “Understood. I’ll bring her in with him.” He tapped his ear to cut the transmission.
Her back brushed the walls, it made her realize he’d cornered her near the sink and wall rack for towels. He released her scalp as he backed away. She lifted her chin and barely detected his dark shadow move until he reached the doorway where faint light from the main house’s floodlights, which her father always kept on, made him easier to see, illuminated somewhat even through the closed bedroom curtains in his room.
She crouched there, realized her nightshirt was wadded at her waist and her bare legs were exposed. If a light was on Brawn would be able to see her underwear and it was an undignified position with her legs spread apart. She didn’t move though, afraid she’d fall over or make a sound. Help was coming and Brawn was close. She wasn’t alone.
New Species had amazing hearing and night vision. Her father had told her that once. The other thing he’d told her was that they had bloodhound scent capability. That’s what he called it. He said most of them could smell things that others couldn’t. Brawn had said he’d smelled four men inside her house.
How does he know they are male? She bit her lip to prevent her from whispering the question to him. He had said he’d also smelled animal blood. Boomer. He’d made that horrible sound before the barking had halted. Does he smell Boomer’s blood? That thought sobered her a lot.
She kept her gaze locked on the shadowy form of Brawn while he bent over, grabbed something from under his bed and backed into the bathroom. He remained there, as if he guarded her and it made her feel better until a creaking noise reached her ears. She knew it was the third step from the top. It always made that sound when stepped on and that meant someone was coming up the stairs.
Nothing made sense. Why would the man who killed Tina be inside her house? Brawn said he’d smelled four. If he said it, it was probably true. The man who’d killed Tina couldn’t have broken into her house that fast, which meant there were at least five of them. It might be a burglary ring targeting the neighborhood. She wanted to warn Brawn but feared making a sound.
The bedroom door suddenly exploded open with a loud crash as something struck it hard. Wood splintered and Becca threw her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream. She did jump, pressed her back tightly to the wall and managed to keep her terrified gaze locked on Brawn.
He didn’t move, the sound didn’t seem to startle him but then something dropped on the wood floor. Whatever it was sounded metal and it rolled—a distinctive sound. That got the big Species to move. He reared up to his feet, spun and her eyes widened as his body hit hers before she realized what was happening.
The air was shoved from her lungs by the force of his heavy body slamming into hers. She hit the floor on her side and his weight crushed her mercilessly when he covered her. A blast of painful, earsplitting proportions stabbed through her head and bright light blinded her even though her eyelids were closed. The floor even shook under her back and thighs from the force of whatever had exploded.
A roar tore from Brawn, further deafening her since his mouth was inches from her ear, and he rolled away. The weight was gone from her body, her eyes jerked open and she fought to suck air back into her lungs. She caught sight of him rushing out the bathroom door as the lights in the room were turned on and smoke hovered near the ceiling. It was white and billowed fast.
Brawn opened fire, the sound of the shots made her flinch and she gaped at the sight of him in just a pair of dark-gray sweats, a Berretta clasped in his hand. The muzzle flashed as bullets were discharged. Someone screamed, barely distinguishable in the melee. Brawn roared again, a fierce, terrifying sound, and threw his body backward into the bathroom.
Weird metal things slammed into the bathroom door inches from him. At least six of them, a few inches long, dug into the thin wood. Brawn lunged out of the bathroom, threw his big body at the bed and opened fire again. He only got off two shots before the gun either jammed or ran out of bullets.
Becca panted, too shocked to move and her eyes widened as three men in all black suddenly threw themselves on top of the New Species. He used his legs to throw one of them up off his body as she watched in horrified shock. The man hit the ceiling hard enough to make it rain plaster before he crashed to the bed, hit the side of it and bounced to the floor.
Move! Her mind screamed and she somehow scrambled to roll over. Her limbs felt heavy, disjointed from her brain and her ears rang from the loud noises. She was dizzy as she pushed up and slammed her palm painfully on the sink countertop. Metal brushed her fingertips and propelled her to struggle harder to rise to her knees. She turned her head to stare at Brawn.
Another of the attackers was thrown off him toward the bedroom door and the hallway. Brawn twisted his body, flipped his legs and sprang off the bed in the blink of an eye with the bed now between him and the bedroom door. He backed up, growled viciously and roared. His fingers curled clawlike at his sides and he bared sharp teeth. The man who’d hit the ceiling sat up and struggled to his feet.
Becca gripped the gun, swayed on her feet and stumbled closer to the bathroom door as she put her finger on the trigger. Brawn was defenseless without a gun, trapped between the bed and the windows and faced danger. She knew how to shoot and damn well would. Her father had raised her to never fire a gun unless she was ready to kill with it. She was.
She nearly reached the door when the stupid bastard who’d just risen from the floor tried to tackle Brawn. She froze as she watched the Species swipe his big hand at the guy in black, hit his throat then shoved hard with his other. The guy flew her way.
Something warm and wet sprinkled her face as the man Brawn had slashed collapsed on to the floor between the bed and the bathroom door. The attacker’s face was turned her way and there was no missing the horrifying sight of his slashed open face, from his ear to his mouth. The stranger’s eyes were wide open, terrified and he blinked. Blood flowed from the horrible wound, pooled on the floor under his mouth and he made a hissing sound. Lifeless eyes stared at Becca after he took his last breath.
Time froze. It was surreal, too shocking for her mind and her responses shut down until the blood slowly spreading across the floor nearly touched her toes. That yanked her to the present. Only seconds had passed, but she realized the wetness on her face was blood too.
Something metal hit the wood floor in the next room and rolled. She twisted away, hunched, trying to protect herself from the stun grenade. She was sure that was what made the sound. Brawn roared again but then she couldn’t hear anything over the loud explosion that tore through the bedroom and seemed to pierce her brain. Even with her eyes tightly closed and her back to it, she was blinded for a second by the white, searing light.
She managed to stay on her feet, recovered fast and spun back around as she straightened. The gun in her numb hands jerked up to point at the doorway and she gaped at the sight of Brawn sprawled motionless over part of the bed. He’d just fallen to his knees, his upper body rested on the mattress and his hair was spilled over the sheets. He didn’t move but she did notice his chest moving slightly and was assured he breathed.
Someone stepped in front of the doorway, obscuring her view of Brawn and she stumbled back. The guy wore all black, his face covered in a mask and goggles even hid his eyes. They were round tinted ones, not night vision gear, but smaller. Her hand shook as she remembered to keep the gun aimed at him.
“Easy,” he demanded gruffly. His hands slowly lifted away from his side, straight out, and she saw a strange, weapon in his hand. It wasn’t anything she’d ever seen before. It was bulky with a wide barrel, a longer version of a handgun, with a round cylinder at the base of it. She glanced at the metal things sticking in the door before her attention jerked to his covered face and eyes. That thing shot those. She knew it, though not what they were.
“Don’t move.” Her voice shook. “I will fire.”
“Easy,” he repeated, not moving a muscle. “You have no chance of survival if you kill me. Pull that trigger and my men will take you out. Do you understand me?”
Terror gripped her. She knew there were more of them, that he wasn’t bullshitting, but they’d killed Tina. They’d kill her too. They weren’t burglars. That fact sank in fast and hard. They dressed the way her father’s men did for covert operations. She’d seen enough of her dad’s laundry to know military issue when she saw it. What the f**k is going on?
“We came for the New Species.” He kept his voice low and calm. “That’s all. Lower the gun, miss. You’re not our target.”
“You can’t have him.” Her voice came out a little stronger. “I’m not stupid and I’m not lowering this gun. I won’t miss you.” She adjusted the aim to make sure he knew she pointed it at the center of his skull. “Tell your men to get the f**k out or I’ll be cleaning your brains off the walls for weeks. I called 9-1-1. The police should be here any second.”
“Fuck,” a male voice hissed from the other side of the wall, telling her that another man was inches from the door and within reach of the as**ole who filled the bathroom door.
“Tell your guy to back off.” Her finger tightened on the trigger. “I’m scared, freaked the hell out, and I might shoot you if I see the slightest movement.”
“Back off,” the guy who seemed in charge ordered. “She’s got a Berretta pointed straight at my head.”
“And I know how to use it,” she said for good measure. She glanced at the space between the guy’s head and the doorway and spotted Brawn still motionless. Her attention focused on the threat. “Move real slow and drop your weapon.”
His hand opened and the weird weapon landed on the dead guy on the floor. “Are you a cop?”
“No, but I won’t miss you.”
He cleared his throat. “Are you his security detail?”
“No but I’ll kill you to protect him. You aren’t taking him. Order your men to leave my house but you don’t move. You’re my insurance that they don’t try anything stupid. They do and you’re dead.”
“Your house? He lives with you?”
“Shut up and do what I said. Order your men out.”
He hesitated. “Fine.” The fingers of his open hand jerked at his side in a wave motion.
She relaxed slightly, a mistake on her part, thinking he’d silently ordered his men to leave with the hand signal. Instead bullets blasted through the walls. She pulled the trigger and threw her body to the floor.
Weight slammed down on her back. She couldn’t even scream from the pain of being crushed and the gun was torn from her fingers. Whoever had slammed into her shifted his weight and a hand fisted painfully in her hair, forcing her head back. She gasped in air and screamed then.
An elbow nailed her in the back, cutting the sound off from the fresh pain and the body lifted. She spotted her gun near the toilet, too far to grab before she was hauled up by the vicious grip fisting her hair at the base of her neck. She swayed on her feet, clutched at the gloved hand and realized she’d missed killing the son of a bitch when he spoke.
“A couple inches off your mark but you clocked my cheek.” He sounded pissed. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.”
He shoved her hard. She slammed into the wall and groaned. She turned, knew she would die and prayed her father had gotten lucky with his date. He’d have heard the explosions and gunfire from the main house. The bastards had either killed her dad before they’d attacked her house or he was spending the night elsewhere. Otherwise he’d have come after her by now.
She glared at the son of a bitch who had her trapped. It was satisfying to see the tear in the black material near his ear, red showed from the bloody wound the bullet had inflicted and she hoped it left a hell of a scar. Her chin rose as she glared at him and her fingers fisted at her sides.
“Fuck you.”
Two more black-clad figures entered the bathroom, weird weapons drawn and they pointed them at her. One of them spoke. “You okay, Randy?”
“Fine,” their leader sighed. “She nicked my cheek but I dodged for the most part.”
She looked up and realized they’d shot through the wall separating the bedroom and bathroom too high to have hit where she’d been standing. It was confusing since she’d been sure they were trying to kill her.
“Who are you?”
Randy reached out suddenly and grabbed her by her throat, yanked her away from the wall and fisted her hair again. He pulled hard enough to jerk her head back as he pulled her tight against him. She could detect cigarettes on his breath, which fanned through the material over his mouth.
“Is she one of them?” One of his men stepped to the side of her.
“Nope. Human. I’m sure. She’s not a New Species. Her eyes are normal.”
Someone else entered the bathroom. “We’re picking up chatter. Our second team just intercepted the cops. They are coming. We’ve got four minutes.”
“Fuck,” Randy hissed. He let go and shoved her against the wall. He grabbed his uninjured ear and tapped it.
“This is alpha dog. We have a female inside the male’s bathroom. She’s obviously screwing him since she admitted it’s her house and they are both locked in his room.” He paused for seconds. “She’s alive. I checked and she’s not one of them—she’s human.” He paused again. “Understood. I’ll bring her in with him.” He tapped his ear to cut the transmission.
