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Duncan looked mildly insulted. Benny elaborated, “I mean that physically,” he said, with a wry twist of his lips. “If there’s four like usual, I can take them, but kickboxing takes space.”
Duncan looked amused at that. “Got it.”
Duncan hit the door with his shoulder, not even pausing to see if it was locked. The door popped open, listing as one hinge gave way. Not as subtly done as Ryder’s earlier entry, Benny thought. Duncan might be a bit angry?
The door opened directly into the living room, a lot like the last house. Well, these ranch-style homes from the ‘70s were a lot alike. Benny kept going straight into the men. Duncan turned toward the bedrooms, taking Benny at his word that he could handle the men.
Benny didn’t talk, didn’t tell them to back away, didn’t give them a chance. He was done with this. He chopped the neck-shoulder join of the first man, then leaped to kick the second in the same place. The third man dropped the woman he was holding and squared up to face Benny. Stupid, Benny thought. Made himself a bigger target. Did he think Benny was going to box him by some set of rules? He landed on his pivot foot, letting the kick carry him around and used the momentum to kick the man in the belly. A couple of quick steps and he was on him, pummeling him with his fists.
Damn, it felt good.
Fourth? His wolf said. Benny paused and the man he held dropped. He looked around. The woman was crying silently.
“Are you hurt?” he asked her, gently.
She shook her head. “He was going to kill me,” she whispered. “Said there was a new Alpha, and that they needed to clean up this mission. Kill us and no one would know.”
Benny grimaced. “Is there a fourth?”
She gestured toward the hall Duncan had gone down. “He’s guarding the others. This one?” and she nodded toward the man Benny had just beaten the shit out of. “He said they could take their time, enjoy it.”
Benny’s wolf growled. The woman flinched back, afraid. “No, no,” Benny said, hoarsely, fighting his wolf for control. “My wolf wants to kill them all.”
She smiled a bit. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Benny snorted.
“Problem,” Duncan called. “Incoming.”
Benny looked down the hall. A man was pushing a woman in front of him, a knife held to her throat.
“Linda,” the woman on the floor said with anguish.
Benny watched him come, his eyes narrowed, waiting for his opportunity. There would be one. There always was.
“This is how we’re doing this,” the man growled. “I’m going out that door, and to the car. You back off, and let me go, and I leave the woman behind. You make any aggressive moves, and I’ll drop her with a cut throat. No coming back from that.”
Benny catalogued the man. Older. Pack, he figured. That’s how he knew there was a new Alpha. Not one of the kids who were as much a victim as anything. He didn’t have the same look at the McKenzies — so probably not related. Well, that was good; he hated to kill a man right in front of his family.
“Go then,” Benny said, gesturing with his head toward the broken door. “What’s stopping you?”
The man hesitated, made uncertain by Benny’s relaxed posture. He moved the woman toward the door. Benny kept his eyes focused on the man. He was holding the woman tightly, covering his core. The knife was at an angle that forced the woman’s chin up, exposing her throat, and making the jugular stand out.
The woman was terrified. Benny hoped he would have the pleasure of killing the man for that alone, although she’d probably lived with the terror 24/7 for some time. “Well?” Benny taunted. “Coward that you are, hiding behind a woman, using a human weapon? Run, coward, go! What are you waiting for?”
The man flushed, Benny’s taunt striking home. He pushed her toward the door.
Benny met the woman’s eyes and held them until she was focused on him. Now, he mouthed, bring his head down sharply. She dropped, as Duncan McKenzie rushed the man from behind. McKenzie grabbed the man’s head, ignoring the knife, and twisted. The man slashed once, not at the woman, but at McKenzie. McKenzie kept twisting, until the man’s neck snapped. He dropped him and grabbed his upper arm. “Damn it, he got me.”
Benny coaxed the woman into joining her friend in the living room. He glanced at Duncan’s wound, and saw it wasn’t bad. Benny tore the man’s head off. Dead, and staying that way.
He glanced up to ask Duncan if he knew the man, and saw Duncan McKenzie start to sway. “I don’t feel...,” he said, sounding puzzled. He staggered. Benny grabbed him and eased him to the ground.
Benny took another look at the wound. It was purple and streaking. Poison? Had to be. He pulled out his phone and tossed it to the two women. “Hit redial,” he ordered. “Tell the man who answers we need the Doc here. Now!”
The first woman nodded, and Benny turned back to Duncan McKenzie. He frowned. “Get me a clean knife from the kitchen,” he called out.
The second woman — Linda? — brought him one. A paring knife, short with an non-serrated blade. He slashed the wound like he would a rattlesnake bite. “Water,” he ordered. The woman nodded and went after some. Benny grimaced, sucked on the wound, and spat.
