Page 70 of Bad Blood Wolf

Brody was counting on her.

She paced, keeping her distance from the walls, checking out the cage’s two entry gates. If there was any weakness, it was there.

The cage was strong, to withstand fighting shifters, but maybe not strong enough to keep them imprisoned if they really wanted to get out. No one had tried to fight their way out of the cage before. Why would they? If they wanted to leave, all they had to do was tap out.

“If we break the block, we can see what’s behind it,” the boyish man was saying. “It shouldn’t be difficult—we just have to override the conditioning. Rage, terror—any extreme emotion should do it.”

“So we threaten the mother,” Decker said.

Bastian had slithered up to the cage like the snake he was, one arm in a makeshift sling. Now his eyes were fixed on Jasmin. “Nah,” he said. “He knows your clients won’t pay for damaged goods. He won’t believe you’d really hurt her.”

He jerked his chin towards Jasmin. “But this one—she’s a crazy-ass killer. Throw him in the cage with her, let them go at it. Fear of death should bring out Brody’s special side.”

Decker snorted. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you? She’s his girlfriend. She’s not going to attack him.”

Bastian sneered at him. “These assholes in the white coats have all kinds of crazy drugs,” he said. “Don’t they have some rage steroid shit you can give him?”

Decker stared at the scientists. “Well?”

The Asian man said, “There is a drug known to bring on aggression in shifters. It might work, especially since he almost broke the block earlier.”

“Give it to him,” Bastian said, glaring at Jasmin. “Give it to him and shock him with that cattle prod thing until he attacks. Then our kitty will have to fight him. She won’t have a choice.” An evil grin split his face. “She’ll fight until he tears her to pieces.”

They stared at each other.

Dead, Jasmin’s jag said. We’ll make him dead.

Jasmin continued to pace the cage while they administered the drug to Brody.

Her rage had turned to a cold knot of fear.

Despite her bravado, she knew how this would end.

They’d give Brody the crazy drug, goad him until he lost his mind to rage, and he’d attack her. Monster Wolf would only see the threat, not the woman Brody loved. He wouldn’t give up until she was subdued—or dead.

Her jag would never submit. Neither of them would back down. His wolf never gave up, and neither did she. The harder she fought, the harder Monster Wolf would try to kill her—unless she killed him first.

And she knew, deep down, she’d never be able to deliver the killing blow.

Not to Brody.

He was her true mate. She’d known it all along, and she’d just never been able to face it. Never wanted to admit how her heart was tethered to his, how he made up the other half of her soul.

She could never hurt him. And she knew he would never hurt her, either.

But Monster Wolf didn’t love her. Monster Wolf didn’t have a heart.

She heard the growls before they brought him into view. Low and guttural, sounds she’d never heard from Brody before. The fur stood up all along her back, and her jag growled in answer.

He sounded insane.

The scientists wheeled the gurney over. Brody was still human, struggling against the restraints, terrifying noises coming from his throat.

They opened the cage door, loosened the restraints, and shoved the whole thing inside. Then they slammed the gate and locked it.

Brody ripped out of the restraints. He rose slowly, staring at Jasmin, and gave a wild howl.

There was no reason or sanity left in him. His hair was wild, and he looked like a Viking in full battle mode.

Come on, Flynn, Jasmin thought. Check the tracking device. Come and get us.

Brody’s form shimmered, and his body began to bulge and ripple. Monster Wolf was trying to break free. Brody was barely holding him back.

He couldn’t take this. He wasn’t recovered from last night.

With an agonized howl, his silver-tipped wolf took form. He stalked her, snarling, no recognition in his eyes. Only death.

Come on, Flynn.

But outside her battle cage, there was nothing but silence. No help. No hope.

She was one jaguar, alone. The way she’d always been.

And she’d known from the beginning that the White Tornado would be the one to take her down.