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The bunched muscles of Kryder’s arm began to relax. To Grant’s surprise, the alpha guffawed, his broad chest shaking.
His amusement didn’t last long, however. He turned back to Grant a scowl drawing his features down. “I’m always amazed by futurists. Know what I mean? How did she know I’d be laughing when I’m furious with you?”
Grant tried a change of subject. “What futurist?” Was this a clue to how Kryder operated?
The alpha’s amber eyes hardened as he held Grant’s gaze. “None of your goddamn business. Now, where are the women?”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kryder’s lip twisted into a grimace. “Like hell you don’t.”
When Kryder’s fist came at him, Grant took it on the chin. The blow threw him against the cement wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him.
By long practice, he slid down to the floor. Every bone in his body wanted to leap back up and take Kryder on. He’d fly straight up into the air, tilt back slightly, pull his knees in just enough then with his forward momentum shove his boots into Kryder’s chest. He’d carry him across the seats, over the railing then ride him down to the sandpit and the battle would be on.
He’d wanted to do this from the time Kryder had ordered his wife’s murder.
Instead, he reined in his temper and stayed on the floor.
Kryder bunched his fists tight. “Get up, you piece of shit, and fight me like a man.”
Grant spit blood from his mouth, closed his eyes in what he trusted was a sickly manner then rolled onto his stomach. He’d feigned passing out a dozen times in the past.
The blows from Kryder’s boots were already punching at his ribs. After six long years of dealing with this monster, however, Grant knew how to take it.
For the sake of the three young wolves, for Ryan, for his entire pack, he’d do it a thousand times over.
An hour later, he reclined on a bed in the compound’s medical unit. The wolf attending him, Dr. Thorpe, had been an internist in his previous life. But alter medicine wasn’t nearly as intensive as normal human treatment.
Thorpe now sat on a stool beside the bed leafing through a car magazine.
“How bad is it this time?” Grant asked. He smiled as he asked the question. Unless the wounds were fatal, his long-lived healing kicked in fast and kept on coming.
Thorpe looked up from his magazine. “He got a couple shots to the kidneys, and two of your ribs are broken. I’d say one more hour and you’ll be good as new.”
Grant adjusted the bed to a sitting position but forced himself to stay put. If Kryder was anywhere near when Grant left the medical bay, he might want another beating session.
But after a few minutes, his usual restlessness set in. He was a man who liked to be doing. His ass planted on a med-bed wasn’t his style at all.
He gritted his teeth as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He took a few deep breaths. He could all but feel the ribs knitting together at light speed. It was one of the best parts of his alter life.
Thorpe knew him well and didn’t bother yelling at him to stay. Instead, he smiled and handed Grant his black tank top.
Grant grunted as he put it back on. Though his normal duties included serving as a Border Patrol officer, he had the night off. The extra time meant he could run more drills with the pack wolves, go over administrative duties with Ryan, or any of a dozen tasks he’d set for himself over the years.
Thorpe rose from his stool, his magazine slung under his arm. “Eat a couple of steaks, bloody as all hell, and you should be good to go.”
Grant’s stomach rumbled. He decided to take Thorpe’s advice and headed in the direction of the kitchens.
As he left the med-bay, however, his wolf instincts vibrated heavily up and down his spine. He wasn’t sure if it was his confrontation with Kryder or something else, though he leaned toward the latter.
He was on the third, belowground level of the compound. Near the med-bay was a door with a sign that said ‘Supplies’. He knew every room in the compound but this one didn’t look familiar. He’d have to ask Ryan about it later.
As he headed to the ground floor, he received all kinds of thanks for taking one for the team yet again. He had to admit, though, he was tired of being Kryder’s punching bag.
Another vibration traveled down his spine. The uneasy sensation grew stronger.
He contacted Ryan telepathically. Everything okay where you are?
