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“He’ll be fine,” I said, my tone holding more confidence than I felt. “Girard has got him. And he can shift, right?”
“And Ames is there with him,” Foster said, but his eyes were bleak.
Charmaine grabbed my hand and held it up so we could all see my phone, and as we huddled against the warehouse wall, seeking the shadows, all thoughts of the SUV were forgotten. Even Foster didn’t move. None of us even seemed to dare breathe.
There was silence around us. Not even birds chirped now, and my senses blared loudly within me. The air was thick with danger.
I fought against a defensive shift as my wolf tried hard to rise to the surface.
“We should go and help,” I said, but I didn’t know how we could do that. We didn’t have the right sort of training.
Foster shook his head. “You need to stay safe. Patrick said…”
My throat dried. It didn’t matter what Patrick had said at this point. One of my friends was in danger, and I couldn’t do anything for him. We all returned our focus to my phone’s screen as I held it out for us to watch. We had no control over this situation and could only watch it unfold.
My heart hammered against my ribs, and I fought against the rise of sudden nausea.
Scuffling noises came from the speaker of my phone and the sound of Wes shouting, and I gripped it harder, like somehow I could grab hold of Wes and yank him out of whatever situation he’d found himself in.
“What are you doing here?” A male voice demanded.
Then another male voice yelled something indistinct and Wes was pushed back into view, staggering backward, his arms pinwheeling as he struggled to maintain his balance. “Who are you?”
Wes grunted as he received a punch to the gut, and Charmaine squealed.
“Come on, ladies. We need to get you to the car.” Foster’s voice was authoritative and he grasped my upper arm.
Wes stumbled into view again as he grabbed his phone, though the sound of scuffling and yelling continued in the background.
“Ames?” Charmaine turned to Foster.
“Ames,” he confirmed as he continued to try to move us toward the SUV.
The image on the phone screen wobbled toward a label on one of the boxes, but suddenly it was gone, snatched away. The ground lurched into view before the screen went back.
“Shit.” The word left my mouth as my phone returned to the view of my usual wallpaper and icons. “Shit. Wes?” I turned to Charmaine, but she shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Foster started to hustle us around the corner, but I shook free.
“No.” Fear and anger rose inside me, and I part growled. “We need to get over there and help.”
Instinctively, I checked for my onyx earrings. It never helped to be naked after an unexpected shift. As soon as I found them, I let loose, and my bones and tendons cracked and snapped as they rearranged themselves into my wolf.
I roared my fury out and heard Charmaine snapping into her own shift behind me. I took off, racing around the outside of the warehouse, Charmaine with me, and a stranger wolf behind us. Foster?
But I didn’t have time to ask. Wes needed our help.
I followed my friend’s scent around the corner of the building and skidded to a stop, sending small stones skittering ahead of me.
Girard was ten yards ahead of us, hauling Ames out of the side door of a warehouse, his one good arm straining under the effort.
He waved his injured arm toward us. “Foster!” he yelled. “Man down. Bring the SUV round.”
I ran again, heading for the warehouse. The only thought in my head was Wes.
“Jo!”
