He’s closer, Crawley, Hound reported. Within striking distance. I can take him. I know I can. I just need a little distraction.
Crawley didn’t make the mistake of glancing over his shoulder, although he wanted to. He had no idea how close Jonas actually was. Hound, don’t take chances. He could be setting you up.
I don’t think so. We’re going downhill and you set the pace. He’s traveling at a higher rate of speed. I don’t think he’s that aware yet, but he will be soon. It’s now or never.
Crawley thought it over. If they could kill Jonas, they would have a chance to complete at least the scouting part of their mission. If they were lucky enough, they might even be able to grab Lily and her son.
All right, he agreed, albeit reluctantly. He’d prefer to kill the big bastard himself, but rather someone do it than no one.
Bear, I need you to stumble over the next obstacle in our path. Doesn’t matter what it is, just make it look real. You don’t have to go down either. Just stagger for a minute to draw his attention. I’ll do the rest, Hound instructed.
On it, Bear confirmed.
Fallen tree, not big, just a little small thing we could easily step over, Crawley reported as he came up on it. That terrible dread was back, fingers of fear walking down his spine.
Bear glanced up at the canopy above him and caught the top of his foot on the thin sapling that had been uprooted. He appeared to trip, pitching forward toward Crawley, who was already some distance ahead, seemingly oblivious to the teammate behind him. Bear staggered and nearly went down, arms spreading wide in an effort to keep his balance.
Hound twisted around, going low, driving off the ground with the heels of his feet, rushing Jonas. Only Jonas wasn’t there. Somehow, he’d disappeared, as if he’d become part of a tree trunk, only to suddenly emerge out of it and close a big, shockingly strong fist around Hound’s throat. Something sharp and terrible ripped through Hound’s flesh into his artery.
Hound had never felt anything like the force of that strike or the ferocity of the grip, as if a wild animal had him by the throat. He looked into the eyes of a merciless leopard, not a man. The eyes were yellow, focused wholly on him, a primitive force of nature, intelligent and cunning. Between the rapid blood loss, Jonas’s intimidating hold, and the implacability in those cruel, ruthless eyes staring unwaveringly into his, Hound couldn’t summon either the will or the strength to fight back.
Bear spun around to see Hound held in the air, his feet half a foot off the ground, blood spraying from his neck. He just hung there, staring in shock at the man killing him. Swearing, Bear put on a burst of speed, using his enhanced animal genetics.
No, stand down. Sit on the ground. Don’t engage, Crawley ordered. Bear, stand down.
Bear was in full attack mode, the beast in him seeing red. He let that rage well up and consume him, filling him with the pure enhanced strength, adrenaline and aggression of the polar bear. Nothing could save the puny man killing his friend. Nothing. He was on Jonas fast. The distance was short, and he could run up to twenty-five miles an hour if he needed to for a brief period of time.
Jonas dropped Hound’s body as if it were nothing but trash and whirled around to face Bear, his entire demeanor changing. Where before, he had appeared to resemble a leopard, his skin even appearing to take on a mottled leopard-like camouflage, now he seemed bigger, his skin darker, his eyes pitiless. It didn’t matter. One blow from Bear would tear that fucker in half. One swipe of his fist. That was all it would take. Bear roared a challenge.
To Bear’s astonishment, Jonas answered his challenge with a roar of his own, sounding so much like a grizzly it nearly stopped Bear midrush. The two slammed together, their bodies barreling into one another, fists flying as they grappled like two large bears in a dominance fight.
Bear expected to break bones with his enormous strength. He’d broken men’s spines with one punch of his fist driving right through a body, but he didn’t land a single blow on Jonas. The man was just too fast, freakishly fast, even for an enhanced. When Jonas smashed one of his fists into Bear’s ribs, he felt the bones cave like sticks, leaving him gasping for air.
The two men circled one another, each assessing the other. Bear had always ended a fight fast with any opponent. He won with his sheer brute strength. Jonas never gave him an opening. Never took his eyes off him. He appeared to be an experienced fighter, battle-scarred and more than willing to kill. He wasn’t enraged, he was methodical. Calculating.
Submit. Damn it, Bear, he’s going to kill you.
Never once had Crawley used that tone of desperation. He’d always had complete confidence in Bear’s enormous strength. Bear knew instinctively his beast would never surrender, nor would this enemy accept or trust it. The three of them had already betrayed their word.
He’ll kill me anyway. We didn’t do what he said. Bear knew just by that admission that he was telling Crawley he couldn’t win.
There was a brief silence. Maneuver the son of a bitch closer to me. You have to be clever about it, Bear. Use your brain. Don’t let the beast take over. We’re in this together. I’m not letting him have you. I think he’s alone. So far, no one else has shown up to help him out.
Bear didn’t think Jonas needed much help. He inched closer, and Jonas didn’t back up like any other fighter might do. He glided to the side, mirroring Bear’s footwork. That was when Bear realized the forest around them had fallen completely silent.
You hear that, Crawley? No birds. No rodents. Or reptiles. Everything in the forest is afraid of him.
Or they’re afraid of you, Bear, Crawley hastened to say.
Bear knew better because, for the first time since he’d been enhanced, he was scared. He could secretly admit it. He was facing a killing machine. Cold. Calculating. Cunning. Highly intelligent, trained and very experienced. He wasn’t just scared; he was terrified. He had to go on the offensive before he couldn’t think, only react. That would be a very bad place to be.
He rushed his enemy again, and Jonas gave no quarter, coming at him toe to toe, as if they were more bears than men. They swung punches, the force behind each individual blow enormous. He didn’t dare take a hit from one of Jonas’s massive fists, not when the man could punch with the force of a freight train. The most he could do was to try to follow Crawley’s advice. Maybe with the two of them, they’d have a chance to bring the bastard down.
It wasn’t easy to slip the punches, and Bear was an experienced fighter. Time slowed down, even though he knew it was only seconds that passed. He dodged and weaved and kept trying to use his superior size to push Jonas into moving back toward Crawley one step at a time. Just one small step. Maybe two. He was feeling desperate. Jonas was lightning fast, feinting one way and then striking another.
The kick came out of nowhere. The blow was savage because Bear wasn’t expecting it. He’d been concentrating on those fists with that blurring speed and power enough to break him in two. Jonas didn’t need his hands when he had a kick like that—far, far more brutal than anything his fist could have delivered—and there was no doubt the fist would have broken his spine. Bear felt bones shatter. One lung collapsed instantly while the other began a slow crumpling. Every organ in his body turned to jelly, cells ripped apart by that jarring, vicious kick that destroyed him.