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Julian had been shot. He’d gone down on the dance floor in a spray of crimson blood while Mateo and Tomás snarled in rage and leapt at the shooter and the other Ikati males fled. They’d mauled the police officer beyond recognition, but there were others there, more shouting, uniformed humans with guns and batons and the Tasers that had ultimately brought him and Tomás down with jarring shocks from behind. He didn’t remember anything after that, and now there were only questions left to taunt him. Was Julian still alive? Where was Tomás? What were the owners of those voices going to do to them? Pain flared in his shoulder as he limped to the front of the cage. His arm felt nearly torn from the socket—one of those feral males had sunk his fangs into it and given a great, whipping shake of
- Writer
