sunfall by Nell Stark Read Free Book Online Page B

quick pace down the hall, which ended in a sliding door. I had never been inside the laboratory, but if its door was pressurized, that could have been the source of the mysterious sound. Still, that meant someone had opened or closed it—someone who would doubtless be waiting for us. As we approached, Constantine and Malcolm fanned out to flank Valentine, leaving me to guard her back. Exactly where I wanted to be.
    Without any warning, Val broke into a run. After a split second of confusion, we leapt into motion behind her. As she triggered the door, she dropped into a slide along the slick tiles. Gunfire erupted from the threshold, but the bullets passed above us. I heard the sharp report of her weapon and then the gunman slumped to the floor, a quarter-sized hole in the center of his forehead.
    Valentine never stopped moving, instead using her momentum to propel herself back onto her feet. But just as she regained her balance, another human figure stepped out of concealment behind the door. He was too close to fire, but he swung viciously at her head with the butt of his assault rifle. Faster than I could follow, Val dodged the blow just far enough so that it caught her in the shoulder. The coppery scent of her blood filled the air as she staggered and crashed into the wall.
    Rage welled up in me, eclipsing the pain of my injury. But even as I raced to Val’s defense, two wolves emerged from the shadows behind the door. Constantine and Malcolm rushed forward to meet them, and the air filled with the sounds of snapping and snarling. For a moment, it seemed as though Val’s assailant would land another strike with his weapon, but she ducked his next blow and delivered a powerful uppercut that snapped his head back. By the time I’d arrived at her feet, she had lunged to the side, raised her gun, and dispatched him.
    Despite the blood streaming down her arm, Val didn’t so much as pause to catch her breath. Swiftly, she swung the bag down from her shoulders and began to set the explosive charge. As she worked, I rejoined Malcolm and Constantine, who were licking minor wounds after their most recent fight.
    And then, over the antiseptic flavor of the air and the pungent musk of Were sweat and the metallic odor of blood, I caught his scent. Balthasar Brenner. I would have recognized it anywhere, and though my human brain flooded over with remembered fear and anxiety, my animal instincts knew only rage.
    When his scent grew stronger, I realized he was approaching from the corridor intersecting this hallway just a few feet ahead of us. Val was oblivious, and I had no time to make her understand. I charged into her, throwing her off-balance and sending her skidding toward the right-hand alcove just inside the door. She grunted in pain, but I turned away, paws scrabbling at the tile as I tried to build up momentum. Before I could gain purchase on the floor, Malcolm shot past me. He reached the corner just as Brenner stepped around it. The world slowed as Malcolm bowled into his nemesis, claws extended. Gunfire echoed between the walls and blood spattered across the gleaming floor, a crimson Rorschach blot.
    A hush fell over the corridor. Malcolm’s back legs twitched, but otherwise, there was no sign of movement. I edged closer, my senses straining. Had Malcolm triumphed, only to be struck down himself? Was Brenner still alive?
    Suddenly, Malcolm flopped onto his side. I had only a second to realize my mistake before I flattened myself into the alcove across from Valentine, barely evading the barrage of bullets that sprayed into the hall. Brenner was manipulating Malcolm’s injured body—using him as a shield. There was nothing I could do to get to him, short of putting myself in the line of fire. Val caught my eye and shook her head, then hefted her rifle. I understood; she would try to keep Brenner distracted. Perhaps she would even get lucky.
    But as she began to return fire, it quickly became clear that Brenner had the