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Isaiah silently sighed. Well, of course she hadn’t stayed put.
He had to battle the instinct to bare his teeth at her. Like his feline, he didn’t want her near this fucker. But while his cat hissed to chase her away, Isaiah didn’t. He respected that, all things considered, she’d want to watch Sebastian die. Isaiah wouldn’t have hung back either.
The wolf glared at her, loathing and scorn rippling over his face. In return, she regarded him with an aloof, clinical detachment. The pallas cats around them, however, rumbled warning growls at him, protective of her.
“You were brought down by what you consider weak, Vercetti,” Isaiah taunted. “Almost poetic, really.”
Sebastian’s hateful gaze cut back to him. “At least tell me if Tommaso is dead before you kill me.”
It would be a decent thing to do, but… “No.” Isaiah bent down and stabbed his claws right into the asshole’s throat. He didn’t remove them as Sebastian spluttered and choked. He kept his claws buried deep, staring the wolf right in the eye until the glimmer of life there dimmed out.
Only then did Isaiah withdraw his claws and straighten. His cat sniffed down in disdain at the dead shifter whose demise had been long overdue. He’d died too easily, really, but at least he’d suffered some before he did.
Quinley’s cat moved forward and sniffed at him, as if wanting to ensure he was dead. Their pride mates, no longer needed to restrain the wolf, backed off.
Isaiah wiped his bloody claws on his jeans. “Pretty sure I told you to wait over there, little cat.”
She looked up at him and did a long, slow blink. Then yawned.
“Minx.” Isaiah glanced around to see that things were presently calmer. Pallas cats no longer crawled over the other two Vercetti Pack members. Both were as dead as Sebastian. Alex was now back in his human form and seemingly healed.
Isaiah sheathed his claws just as Quinley’s cat scrambled up his body and settled on his shoulder. “Quick question: Are you going to shift back any time soon?”
She only stared at him.
“I’d like to cuddle your human half too,” he explained.
The staring continued.
A sigh eased out of Isaiah. “Which is my problem, not yours. Right. Gotcha.” His feline would have snorted if he could have.
Isaiah suspected that the female cat wouldn’t want to shift back until the corpses were gone and the house was empty of visitors. He could feel through their bond that she was still a little on edge from adrenaline.
Vinnie crossed to them. “We need Sebastian’s phone so we can deactivate the explosives. Then we’ll take them down.” He cast a quick look at the black-foot. “Think you can convince her to pass it over, Isaiah?”
“Sure. First, though, are the others still at the mines?”
“I presume so. I haven’t heard from Tate yet, and he always calls me after any kind of battle so I know he’s safe and well. He’s gonna be furious when he realizes that Sebastian not only came for your mate but managed to fool you all the way he did.”
Oh, for certain. “And Joaquin? How is he?”
“Alive. Helena got to him in time to save him. Which means the Vercetti bastards in here caused no casualties. Let’s hope our pride mates in the mines can claim the same about the pack members there.”
It was another half hour before Tate called. Isaiah had to assume he’d spoken to either Vinnie or some other pride mates beforehand, because the Alpha’s first words to him were: “I heard there was all kinds of action we missed while in the mines.” He did not sound happy about it.
Lying flat on his back in bed, Isaiah met his mate’s eyes. They were filled with wariness, her body stiff as a board as she awaited news of her relatives’ fate.
He used his grip on her ass to draw her closer to his side. The house was now free of explosives, corpses, and pride mates. But the first level was still a wreck after being ransacked, so he and Quinley had retreated upstairs.
It hadn’t been easy to get her cat to subside. A few people had stopped by, including his parents. Quinley’s cat had stared at them the entire time, ready to lash out in his defense if they stepped a foot wrong. It had been cute as hell.
Once Quinley had finally resurfaced, they’d showered, pulled on sweats, and—in her case—snacked on some candy she’d stashed in her nightstand. Honestly, she had snacks hidden away in every room.
“I’m sure that goes both ways,” he said to Tate, the call on speakerphone. “Raya and Lori?”
“They’re fine, albeit pissed that they were kidnapped. They’re now on their way home.”
Quinley melted into his side as a mound of air seemed to gust out of her in relief.
