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The second wave assault team, which had Thomas in it, was composed of fully shifted lions, and they would be delivering bloodlust as lions do.
And before all this counterattack had been initiated, Thomas had made sure to tell Daryl, his beta, the specifics. “I want to face an unharmed, unrestrained Sonny and take that fucker down, lion to lion. The Leone pride needs this.”
“If the snipers take him, then he’s out,” Daryl had answered.
“Unless that old bastard is being stopped from causing the death of a Leone pride member, I will face Sonny and beat him in front of any survivors. The Leone pride needs this demonstrative victory.”
“As you say,” Daryl had answered.
Thomas and the two shifters leading him into Sonny’s home chose the rear entrance as it had been cleared by the firearm team moments earlier. One of the team members had accidentally tripped a booby trap and blew themselves up, clearing out the hallway, foyer, and some of the kitchen.
The two shifters leading Thomas rushed in amid the smoke, cordite, and screams and tore into Sonny’s guards, who were still wobbly from the boobytrap blast. Thomas followed and quickly found a neck to bite into.
Come get me, bitch!Came a telepathic voice. Sonny.
Thomas didn’t answer. He didn’t have time. He ran into another one of Sonny’s guards. This man had a rifle, and Thomas had to lunge with the utmost speed to get that man’s arm and then the man’s neck.
That guard died quickly.
Thomas stood, blood dripping down his muzzle.Where’s Sonny?Thomas thought-spoke to the nearest Leone shifter.He’s trying to get into my head so he’s close and knows I’m here.
There is a huge shifter at the top of the stairscame a voice from one of the Leone pride.Took out anyone that went up. That may be him. Daryl’s been telling everyone to hand off Sonny.
Where are the stairs?Thomas thought back.
The shifter sent Thomas an image of a staircase near the fireplace. Thomas made his way to the center of the house. The fireplace was there, absolutely, and so was a steep staircase with three bodies at the base. Two Leone pride shifters and one shooter. The shooter was still alive, but not for long. His entire midsection had been carved up by claws, enormous claws.
Thomas shifted and leaned his head in close so the man could whisper. “Top of the stairs is a big bad lion,” the shooter whispered. “Not sure if it’s Sonny.”
“You did good,” Thomas told him. “I am proud of you.”
“Save your sympathy for someone else,” the shooter mumbled. “I know how this goes. Let me help with one final shot.”
Thomas nodded at the scattergun in the man’s arms. “If you see a lion come running down these stairs, it’ll mean I didn’t make it. You let him have it.”
Then Thomas shifted back into his lion and ascended the stairs. He crouched low, tight against the wall, and kept his haunches spring-loaded so he could lunge at a moment’s notice.
A figure was silhouetted at the top of the stairs and fully shifted. Taller and wider with more muscle than Sonny. Thomas could tell by the mangled ears that this was a brawler.
I seecame Sonny’s telepathic voice.That big fella looking at you is Scarab. My gatekeeper. Recently escaped Rikers, so he’s a little wound up.
Why don’t you and I meet out front, face to face?Thomas sent back to Sonny. Let everybody see things settled, lion to lion.
We are in different classes, cupcake,Sonny answered.I fought for everything I have from the street upward. You have what you inherited from Mommy. You don’t rate. Get past my gatekeeper, and maybe we’ll talk.
Thomas didn’t answer, opting to save his energy. Scarab was bigger and stronger. He was not going to overpower Scarab. When the other lion attacked, he needed to use Scarab’s weight and volition against him. This could be done most easily if he could get Scarab to overreact or blow his stack.
Hey, Scarab, my buddy,Thomas thought-spoke toward the monster at the top of the stairs.I really dig how you lived at Rikers as long as you did. And I know how you survived!
Scarab didn’t answer. He heard, though, that’s for sure. Thomas could feel it. Poor Scarab’s roof wasn’t nailed down tightly, to begin with. One more jest and the poor monster would overreach.
Yeah. You survived by braiding hair for all the shot-callers in the daytime, and at night after lights out, you shook your tail feathers for the highest bidder. See? I totally get you, buddy.
Scarab didn’t answer. Scarab lunged.
Thomas ducked against the stairs. Not quick enough to miss the entirety of Scarab’s reaching embrace. But flat enough that Scarab’s momentum carried him over Thomas’s back and then down the remaining stairs in a tumble.
The best sound of the night was hearing the discharge of the scattergun when Scarab hit the base of the stairs.
