Dominic whipped out his phone and called Trey. “Need a little help in the greenroom. Alert security. Keep people away.” He ended the call without waiting for a response.
Mila bit her lip. “I know it’s dumb to get between two dominant shifters when they’re fighting, but I feel like we should do something.”
Intervening in such fights wasn’t done in their culture, but Dominic had every intention of doing so at some point. He was happy for Joel to beat the shit out of Dean, but Dominic was set on being the one to kill the bobcat. “Not yet.”
Mila shifted from foot to foot, wishing one of the brawling males would somehow kick the fallen weapon her way. Just when Joel seemed close to snatching the second gun from Dean, the bobcat managed to train it at Joel’s thigh and attempted to tighten his finger on the trigger. With a snarl, Joel used a surge of strength to shove the gun aside, inadvertently making it point at Dominic.
Her heart in her throat, Mila threw herself at Dominic, knocking him to the floor. The gun fired, and an unbearable heat blazed across her arm. She let out a pained “pissed-the-fuck-off” hiss.
Dominic rolled her beneath him, shielding her. “You okay?”
“Flesh wound,” she assured him. Which was true. But it still burned like a bitch.
“I’ll kill that piece of shit.” The bullet had merely grazed her, to his relief, but it had taken off a good few layers of skin. His head snapped up as his pack mates rushed inside and skidded to a stop, causing Zander, Derren, and Ally to almost crash into them.
“Need a healer over here!” Dominic called out. Mindful of her wound, he carefully pulled Mila to her feet.
She waved Ally off. “I’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound. My kind are fast healers, remember?”
“Then think of this as calming Dominic,” said Ally, placing her hand on Mila’s injured arm.
Taryn squinted. “Is that Dean Preston? I’d ask how the hell he managed to bypass security, but that disguise is damn good. He looks nothing like the pictures I saw of him.”
Trey grimaced at the blood Mila was now wiping from her healed arm. “Your brother and parents are gonna be pissed when they get here and find out you were hurt.”
Joel slammed Dean’s hand against the wall, making the gun clatter to the floor. Joel kicked it aside and then laid into Dean.
Dominic scooped up the weapon as the two male cats tore into each other, snarling and hissing. The fight was ugly. Fists flew. Teeth bit. Claws slashed and stabbed. Dean’s wig and fake beard soon toppled to the blood-specked floor.
Joel was faster. Stronger. But Dean was driven by the anger he’d harbored against Joel since his first vision of Adele, and he was venting every ounce of that rage. It was giving him an edge and making him a little crazy—hell, he even tried to tear a chunk off Joel’s ear with his teeth. Worse, Dean’s padding seemed to be making it hard for Joel to deliver maximum pain.
Zander winced when Dean raked his claws over Joel’s crotch. “That bobcat is a vicious fucker, isn’t he?”
“He knows that even if he defeats Joel, we’ll kill him,” said Mila. “Knows he’s gonna die tonight. He wants to take Joel down with him.”
“The only person who’ll die here tonight is Dean,” said Dominic. Although Mila was healed, the smell of his mate’s blood fed Dominic’s anger until it was agonizing for him to hold back and let Joel have his moment with the bobcat. Both males were tiring, and he knew it would only be a matter of—
Joel doubled over with a grunt as Dean’s claws stabbed him right in the gut. Eyes wide, the pallas cat staggered backward, heaving in a breath.
Smirking, Dean advanced on his opponent. So Dominic fired at the fucker’s ankle. Dean roared in pain, his leg almost crumpling beneath him. Dominic pulled the trigger again. The bullet sank into the bobcat’s foot, eliciting another agonizing cry out of him. And then Dean collapsed to the floor.
Clicking on the safety, Dominic tossed the gun aside. Barely holding himself upright, Joel looked as though he still might lunge at the bobcat, but Dominic shook his head and said, “No. He’s mine.”
Dominic slowly stalked toward Dean, his eyes flashing wolf as his animal reached for the surface. But Dominic suppressed the beast and remained in control.
Flat on his stomach, Dean weakly tried to drag himself toward the other gun.
“Planning to shoot me?” Dominic tutted at him. “That’s not very nice.” He stilled as a noise drifted to him over the sounds of music thumping.
Healing Joel, Ally frowned. “Was that—? I thought I heard screaming.”
Dominic narrowed his eyes. “So did I.” He reached out with his senses, and what he heard sent his heart racing. Screaming. Yelling. Gunshots. “What the fuck?”
Mila’s eyes widened as she glanced past him. “Dominic—”
He looked down just as Dean’s hand closed around the butt of the gun. Bending over, Dominic fisted the fucker’s hair and snatched back his head. “I told you I’d kill you.” In one merciless swipe, Dominic slit Dean’s throat with his claw.
“Outside,” said Derren, fisting his hands. “The gunshots are coming from outside. And they’re getting louder.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Leaving Dean’s dead body sprawled on the floor, they tore out of the greenroom and down the hall. The music, dancing, and laughter had stopped, and the patrons were all staring at the entrance where two Mercury Pack wolves—Eli and Zander—were pounding their fists on the closed door.
Dominic gripped Mila’s arm to keep her from following his Alphas, Dante, and the Mercury Betas through the crowds. Every instinct he had as an enforcer told him to follow his Alphas and find out what the fuck was going on. But he knew he’d never get Mila to wait behind, and he wouldn’t allow her to walk into danger.
Eli and Zander stumbled away from the door as a body that looked like one of the doormen came tumbling down the stairs, ablaze and screaming. Motherfucker.
Two objects were then tossed inside, both aimed toward the bar. With so many people in the way, Dominic didn’t see if the objects hit their target. But in a matter of moments, fire erupted.
His stomach dropped. Shit.
Before anyone had a chance to swarm the entrance and attack whoever was out there, the door was slammed shut. His wolf jerked as the fire alarm blared, loud and urgent. Water rained down from the sprinklers. People pounded on the door and threw all their weight against it. Again. And again. And again.
The door didn’t budge, let alone open.
Dominic figured that if the door was thick enough to prevent people from breaking into the club, it was also thick enough to prevent them from breaking out. Eli and Zander must have had that same thought, because they gave up on the door and hurried down the stairs to Derren.
The Mercury wolves there all snapped to attention. Orders were shouted. Hand signals were exchanged. But Dominic couldn’t understand them. Couldn’t do anything but watch as Harley and one of the waitresses rushed over with fire extinguishers.
Rooted to the spot by shock, Mila fisted the back of his tee. “Dominic—” Her eyes followed the flames that rippled across the walls and swept up to the ceiling. Her cat turned as frantic as her heartbeat.