“Laughing?” Dominic echoed. “Those motherfuckers think this is—” He cut off at the sounds of rabid growls, pained grunts, and muffled curses coming from outside.

Moments later, the hatch was yanked open.

Seeing Alex staring down at them, Mila smiled. “About damn time you got here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Moving aside, Alex urged them out, grimacing at the plumes of smoke that rose from the hatch. “I called the pride; they’re already on their way.”

Coughing, Mila grimaced at the bodies splayed on the ground. Humans, her senses told her. Her brother had dispatched of them quickly and coldly. “Any more extremists?”

Alex nodded. “Some are covering the entrance, and some are sitting in a huge fucking van in the lot. They’ll come this way as soon as they realize you all got out. Although everyone’s coughing and hacking, they hopefully won’t hear you over the sound of the fire roaring and the alarm blaring. Be careful,” he added as more people climbed out, their faces stained with soot and tears. “There are snipers on the roof at the front of the building.”

“We’re on it.” A tall male muttered something to his friends, who then promptly shifted, shrugging off their clothes as they flew. Eagle shifters.

As Mila and Dominic helped the other patrons out, Ally, Dante, and the Phoenix Alphas apprised the escapees of the situation, urging them not to run off.

“I figure the snipers are there to shoot any firefighters who try to help—it’s something they’ve done in the past,” said Mila.

Dominic nodded. “With any luck, the eagles will kill every single one of the fuckers. Can you let people out of the side exit, Alex?”

“It’s best not to,” replied the wolverine. “Everything that happens in the alley echoes, so the extremists will hear if shifters start filing out of that exit. The humans will then go after them, guns blazing—literally. It’ll work better if everyone just comes out the back way.”

He had a good point, so they continued to quietly help the other patrons out. Ally took aside any who were burned or otherwise injured, and soon other healers joined her efforts.

A loud cry from high on one of the rooftops made everyone freeze, and a deep voice up there boomed, “They’re out!”

“Think there was any chance the extremists on the other side of the building didn’t hear that?” asked Taryn.

There was a roar of fury, followed by footsteps thundering down the alleyway.

“Well, that answers my question,” said Taryn. “You and Dominic make sure everyone gets out,” she told Mila.

Almost as one, Alex, Taryn, Trey, Dante, and most of the escaped patrons shifted. Their animals didn’t hesitate to attack the humans who came rushing around the corner, armed to the teeth. Machine guns peppered bullets everywhere. Grenades were slung. The snipers who were still alive picked off the shifters that tried to run or retaliate.

Bodies of shifters toppled to the ground—some changed into their human forms as they did so. That didn’t stop the others from charging. There were so many animal noises it sounded like a zoo gone wild. Roars, shrieks, growls, caws, snarls.

A blast of fire split the air, and Mila hissed. A fucking flamethrower. The humans hadn’t just brought guns. They had spiked bats, machetes, maces, and belts that were wrapped in barbed wire. Oh, she itched to kick the humans’ goddamn asses.

Sirens wailed in the distance, and Mila’s head snapped up. “Finally.” The sirens came closer and closer and closer. Tires screeched to a stop in the lot. That was when she heard more gunfire followed by distant voices crying out in pain.

Ally growled. “Fuck, the snipers are shooting the firefighters!” Her eyes snapped to the hatch as Derren and Eli climbed out. “Where the fuck have you been?” she yelled at her mate.

Coughing, Derren shut the hatch. “That’s everyone out.”

“Good, because being a spectator sucks,” said Mila as she and Dominic stripped, intending to join the fight. The extremists had begun to back up, so a great deal of the battle was now taking place in the alley.

Eli froze. “What’s that sound?”

Mila smiled at the familiar roar-growl. “That, my friend, is the sound of a pissed-off wolverine shifter.” Her mother. “And she no doubt has my pride with her.” They’d attack the extremists from another angle, effectively boxing the humans in. Some of the pride would also hopefully help put the fire out.

Clasping her nape, Dominic kissed her. “Be careful.”

“Same to you,” said Mila. Then they shifted.

The cat leaped over fallen bodies and sidestepped puddles of blood as she charged into battle. Ears flat, her snarling mate rushed at a human who was swinging a mace. Scrambling up the back of her wolf, the cat lunged at the human. She wrapped her body around his face and sank her teeth and claws into his scalp. Scratched at his flesh. Raked an eyeball. Enjoyed his cries of pain.

The wolf took advantage and barreled into the human. Knocked him onto his back and sliced open his stomach, exposing the man’s guts. The cat approved of the bloodthirsty move.

Gunfire cracked the air, and a blazing heat singed the side of her leg. The cat hissed, furious. She went to retaliate, but a bear reared up on its hind legs and slammed its paw at the offending human’s head. There was a distinct crack.

Satisfied, the cat turned back to her mate. Adrenaline pumping through them, the wolf and the cat worked as a team as they took down one human after another. They bit, slashed, clawed, and mauled. Ducked, dodged, and weaved away from what came at them.

Soon, the whooshing of the fire hoses joined the animal sounds and human cries. Her pride had to be putting out the fire.

Around them, other shifters attacked the humans—disemboweling, ripping out throats, tearing off limbs, crushing bones, severing spinal cords, clamping jaws around throats to suffocate opponents.

The extremists didn’t surrender. Brutal and cunning, they lashed out with their weapons. Even when they abandoned their guns, they kept fighting, sending many shifters tumbling to the ground, defeated and near dead.

The cat’s thick hide and fur acted as good protection, but not good enough. She was soon covered in slices, welts, and other injuries. Blood matted her fur. She was tiring. Slowing from loss of blood. Every part of her body seemed to hurt. But she fought on.

Just as she and her mate finished off another human, the cat turned to seek a new target. A wooden bat crashed into her side, its spikes stabbed into her flank, and she was knocked sideways. Red-hot pain assailed her, and the breath left her lungs in a whoosh. Shelving the burn, she righted herself, winded.

The spiked bat hit her again, tearing into her neck. She hissed at the blinding pain. Swayed but didn’t fall.

The wolf pitched forward and clamped his jaws around the human’s leg. The man lifted his bat, and the feline’s heart jolted. She knew he would bring the bat down hard on her mate’s head.

The cat sprang. Covered the human’s face. Found purchase with teeth and claws. Raked and bit.

The human toppled backward, and the wolf instantly lunged at his mate’s attacker. Sunk his teeth into the man’s throat and tore it out with a vicious yank.

Lungs burning, heart pounding, the wolf backed away from the corpse and took a moment to glance around. The ground was littered with bodies—some human, some shifter; some dead, some close to death. There were many still standing, and most were shifters.