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Sebastian stiffened. “What?”
His brother sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Seb, my back is shredded. So is Wattie’s Achilles tendon. The scratches on your face are deep, and your eye needs seeing to.”
As if Sebastian needed the latter reminder. His eyeball still blazed like someone had shoved a boiling hot chunk of coal in the socket. His vision was fucked.
No way was he leaving without doing what he’d come to do, though. Besides, he owed that little bitch. He was going to stab her eye with his goddamn claw before he killed her. “We can go to a healer once we’re finished here.”
“Let’s consider the job done,” Davide pushed. “The place is wired to blow. She won’t survive the explosion.”
Sebastian cast him a hard glare. “Wasn’t it you who earlier insisted it would take more than that to wipe out a black-foot?”
Davide spluttered. “Yes but, on second thought, I’m pretty sure I’m wrong.”
Lying asshole. “You want to admit defeat to a goddamn tabby?”
“What else are we supposed to do? None of us can catch her. She’s too fast. The longer we’re here, the more we risk detection. Let’s just do what Wattie suggested earlier and cut our losses.”
“I vote for that,” said the hyena from the armchair.
Ignoring that, Sebastian arched a brow at Davide. “Thought you wanted Hale to suffer?”
“I do, but we wouldn’t be letting him get away with what he did to Samuele,” said Davide. “We’d just be putting a pin in it. We can come back at another time when he won’t be expecting it.”
“And what about Tommaso? I thought you wanted answers about our brother.”
“Again, I do. But he wouldn’t blame us for regrouping if it meant we survived. As I said, we could return later. We can kidnap a random pride member and demand Tommaso in exchange for their life. What we clearly can’t do is catch that bastard cat.”
“You really want to flee from her? A submissive, female, teensy weensy cat?”
Wattie grunted as he shifted position on the armchair, his face pale. “Seb, it don’t matter that she’s tiny or a submissive or a woman—it doesn’t change that we can’t get a grip on her. We can’t even get a bullet in her. What else are we supposed to do?”
Sebastian felt his lips flatten. This was what he got for bringing pack members who thought it their place to question him. “We’re not leaving until she’s dead. You hear me? Bitch and moan all you want, but we’re not moving from this house until she’s a goner.”
Both males sagged, anger washing over their features and mingling with the pain there.
Sebastian’s wolf sneered, disgusted by their weakness. “Now, for God’s sake, let’s nab this damn cat.”
Unable to properly walk, Wattie remained seated as Sebastian and Davide searched high and low for the black-foot. It was like trying to search for oxygen—you knew it was there, you just couldn’t damn see it.
Sebastian kicked a half-smashed vase across the floor, making more pieces of it break away. “How can it be possible for her not to stand out? She doesn’t exactly blend in with the décor.”
Davide gave a clueless shrug. “I don’t know. I still say we should—”
“Don’t. I told you already, we’re not leaving until…” Sebastian trailed off as something outside caught his eye through the window. His pulse jumped, and his wolf went still. “Hale’s home.”
Wattie sat up straighter, his eyes widening. “What?”
“He’s walking up the driveway as we speak,” said Sebastian, his hand flexing around his gun. “He isn’t with the others. Just one male—I haven’t seen this one before.” In which case, the guy couldn’t be an enforcer or anyone important. “We can take them both easy.”
“Or,” began Davide, “we could just walk out—”
Sebastian growled at his brother. “Stop being a bitch. Get out your guns, both of you.”
Red staining his cheeks, Davide begrudgingly pulled out his gun. From the armchair, Wattie did the same.
Not trusting that either of the Olympus Pride males wouldn’t scent Sebastian or his pack mates, he didn’t wait there. He pulled open the living room door and aimed his weapon just right.
Both Hale and the other male casually strolled inside. Hale froze as his gaze landed on Sebastian. A gaze that bounced from him to the gun and back again. Behind him, his companion went rigid.
