Fury of Fire (Dragonfury Series #1)

belly, too. The terrifying flight over the city and…the rough treatment when they landed.
    Angela stumbled into her again.
    “Which way?” she asked, glancing at the lead asshole to make sure he wasn’t listening.
    “Next alleyway between containers…you go left.” Her eyes sharp, Angela scanned the narrow corridor. Stacked three high, the containers blocked any chance of escape. And with the Razorbacks in front and behind them? Yeah, the whole situation looked like a Hail Mary pass on an impossible playing field. “I’ll go right.”
    She shook her head. “We stick together.”
    “We’ll have a better chance if we split up. One of us might get out.”
    “But—”
    “Find Mac.” Angela whispered, glancing at the pair of Razorbacks trailing them. “Get to my partner, he’ll—”
    A growl sounded behind them. “Making plans, females?”
    “Myst’s feeling sick.” Quick on her feet, Angela shrugged, playing the lie like a pro. “Just trying to calm her down.”
    Asshole number one snorted. “Weak female. Don’t know why Ivar wants her.”
    “She’s high-energy, Denzeil,” the lead asshole said, glancing over his shoulder. The chill in his gaze touched her, freezing her with fear before it slid over Angela. “They both are…good breeders.”
    “So what, Lothair…” The third Razorback paused, a thoughtful look on his face. “They’re lab rats?”
    “With fringe benefits.”
    Denzeil’s nostrils flared. “Who gets the redhead?”
    “Me.” The corners of Lothair’s lips lifted as he stared at Angela. “Can’t wait, either. Maybe I’ll fuck you before Bastian and his band of bastards show up. Got time before he tracks the signal and comes for his female.”
    Bait. Myst’s stomach rolled. She was bait, and like chum thrown into shark-infested waters, Ivar would use her to lure Bastian into a trap. And regardless of the danger, he would come. Try to pull her out instead of letting her go…like he should, like she deserved. She’d abandoned him and yet…
    God forgive her.
    He would come, tear the shipping yard apart to reach her. She knew it like her own heartbeat and, as each thump slammed into her chest, two thoughts tore her apart, shredding her down the middle.
    The first sounded like hope, a plea and prayer for rescue. The second hit with a one-two punch, equal parts guilt and dread. Her decision to run instead of talk to Bastian about a reality she didn’t understand might get the man she loved killed. And for a split second, she wanted to wish the love away, because without it Bastian wouldn’t feel compelled to come after her…would’ve remained safe, far away from Razorback claws.
    The consequences of her action sliced deep. Pain spilled out, filling her so full she snarled at Lothair, a “Screw you” poised on the tip of her tongue. Angela kicked the side of Myst’s foot and shook her head, the message clear. Don’t react. The more you do, the more ammunition you give them to hurt you.
    With a small nod, Myst acknowledged the wisdom, but it almost killed her. She wanted to launch herself at Lothair’s back and snap his neck. Yeah, it went against everything she knew about herself and her nature but…she could do it. Her knowledge of the human body gave her an edge. All those nice, neat vertebrae were easy to crack if you knew what to do.
    The alleyway between containers came into view.
    She heard Angela draw in a deep breath and then blow it out, preparing for escape. Myst did the same, filled her lungs and let it go, enriching her muscles with oxygen. The second she started to run, she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t look behind her. Or slow down.
    His footfalls echoing, Lothair continued straight down the corridor.
    And Myst got ready.
    The instant they reached the gap between containers, they bolted in opposite directions: Angela right, Myst left. The Razorbacks behind them shouted, raising the alarm. Adrenaline screaming through her veins, Myst’s feet flew. The thud of heavy boots sounded behind her. Hot breath washed over the back of her neck, and she dodged, zigzagging to avoid capture. A huge hand flashed in her peripheral vision. She changed direction, skidding around a corner into a narrow alleyway.
    “Shit,” a voice said, full of pissed off behind her.
    The skitter of sliding feet sounded as he put on the brakes. Myst huffed in triumph as the Razorback collided with the container. Another curse joined a clang, banging around between the steel