Rise to Submit [Rise of the Changelings, Book 4] (Siren Publishing Epic Romance, ManLove) (16 page)

“Fucking hell!” Mason pushed Ian down to the seat as gunfire erupted all around them. Reaching over, Mason lowered the window, returning fire. He almost whooped when Bryson’s car skidded up behind Jayson’s, evening out. Sasha’s blond hair was blowing in the wind as he sat on the open window frame on the passenger’s side with a rifle in his hand, firing into the blue truck from behind.

Benito and Miguel were hanging out of the window, their handguns emptying into the truck as well.

Rick jerked the truck, damn near making Mason lose his gun. They drove in a circle around the blue truck until they almost collided with Bryson’s car.

“I thought you said he could drive backward!” Ian shouted, covering his head with his hands as he bent as low as he could.

“That’s why I told you to buckle up,” Dorian said before he pushed into the backseat, avoiding Mason’s flailing arm to get him back where he was. The brat rolled the other window down, crouching over Ian as he joined in the firefight.

“I had no idea my brother was so bloodthirsty,” Ian shouted at Mason.

Mason rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Hold on!” Rick shouted as he jerked the truck once more, spinning around until they were facing the back of the blue truck, and then sped up, ramming directly into the back of it, knocking a few of the Breed Hunters from the bed of the truck.

Bryson swung up beside Rick, Sasha aiming his gun at the back tires, rapid fire damn near making Mason deaf.

“Remind me to never piss Sasha off,” Dorian said as he slid back inside. “That man is lethal as fuck. Did you see his face? That’s some scary-ass shit.”

“One more time,” Rick yelled at them. Mason threw himself onto Ian as the truck made a bone-jarring impact with the truck in front of them. Mason glanced up when he heard a whirring noise to see Rick pushing the other truck toward the woods. Mason knew there was a ravine close by. The drop-off wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Shit!” Rick shouted as he slammed on the brakes. The truck lurched forward and then stopped, teetering. “Don’t move.”

“What’s wrong?” Omar asked from the back.

“We’re dangling over the edge,” Freedman answered in a deceptively calm tone. “We need some serious weight in the back, like yesterday.”

Ian screamed when the truck jerked. “Are we falling?”

Mason’s heart was in his throat as he curled his large frame around Ian. If the truck plummeted to the ravine below, he was going to try his damnedest to stop Ian from being injured.

“It’s Sasha and the others climbing on the back of the truck,” Rick answered. Mason took a chance and moved slightly, looking over the back of the seat. The hatch opened, Sasha climbing onto the back bumper.

“One at a time. I need Mason out first since he is the heaviest,” Sasha commanded.

“I’m not leaving Ian,” he replied.

“We need your weight to counterbalance this big-as-fuck truck, Mason,” Sasha snapped at him.

“Fucking hurry,” Rick said from up front. “Not all the Breed Hunters are dead. I have one very pissed-off human aiming his gun up at me from below.”

“Go,” Ian said as he pushed at Mason. “I’ll be okay.”

Mason hesitated. “I promised to keep you safe.”

“You will when you put your fat ass on the back of the truck.”

“Fat ass?” Mason asked in astonishment.

“Now!” Sasha shouted.

Mason released Ian, staring into his light-blue eyes. “Don’t fucking get hurt.” He placed a chaste kiss on Ian’s lips before moving slowly, easing one leg over the back of the seat, and then the other. He felt like he was leaving behind something very precious. If anything happened to Ian because Mason left him, he would never forgive himself. Omar inched his way to the back of the truck, pressing his body together with Benito and Miguel’s, adding more weight.

“Stand up on the bumper,” Sasha said as he pointed to the spot next to him. “The others don’t have enough weight to hold this truck. It’s basically you and me.”

Mason nodded, gripping the hatch as he secured his booted feet onto the black bumper.

“Okay, Rick, you’re the next biggest. I need you to crawl—”

“Wait,” Mason growled. “You said Ian could be next.”

“I need the large men out of there. Freedman and Rick are sitting up front. Their weight is pressing the truck forward. We are turning this truck into a teeter-totter. We need more weight back here with us.”

“But—”

“We’ll get him out, Mason.”

Mason glanced toward the backseat. Ian was still down because Mason didn’t see him, but he could differentiate Ian’s smell from everyone else’s and the man was scared shitless. He wanted to crawl back inside and grab Ian, pulling him out to safety. But Sasha was right. The heaviest men had to get out first or the truck was going to take a nose dive.

Rick moved carefully, easing his way from the front seat. “Just so you know, I fucking hate leaving knowing there are other pack members in the truck. An alpha—”

“Should get his ass out here and help us rescue the others before it’s too late,” Sasha finished for him. “Don’t you think I feel like shit because I’m back here and there are still weaker members in the truck? We do what we have to in order to keep them safe. Sometimes we don’t like it, but it has to be done.”

Rick tightened his jaw and nodded, working his way over the backseat. Mason saw him pause for a second, staring at Dorian. The look was filled with so much love, so much emotion that Mason felt his own chest tighten. They had to get everyone out. If something happened to Ian and Dorian, Mason and Rick would never be the same again.

Of course, they had to get Freedman out of there as well. The man had risked his life to warn Rick multiple times about the Death Squad. He had lost his best friend to the weretigers in order to send a message to the alpha werewolf. They owed him a great debt.

And Mason liked Freedman. He was a no-nonsense guy, but cool as hell.

Rick made it to the back.

“Freedman,” Sasha called just as pinging noises began to hit the truck. Mason looked back to see the Breed Hunters who had fallen out of their truck heading in the direction of the ravine, guns out, firing at Mason and the others.

“Freedman, hurry!” Rick shouted. Freedman got up, moving as quickly as he could to the back of the truck when the earth shifted and the truck began to tip forward. Mason saw Freedman jumping onto the men in the backseat just as Sasha shoved Mason off of the bumper.

“No!” Rick and Mason shouted at the same time as the truck tilted forward a little more, and then fell over the edge.

Rick’s heart was lodged in his gut as he spun around and began to fire at the men descending on them. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. A storm was brewing in his head, the fury mounting, and the rage consuming.

He had not gone through all of this to lose his mate. Rick had not fought for his species and battled through monumental odds to watch his mate die. Dorian had been by his side from the beginning. The man even stuck with him when Rick gave him the option to leave and clear his name.

Dorian Campbell had taken a bullet for him and had protected Rick with his life, picked up a gun when he never held one in his life to save his brother. Shot a man in the face to keep them both alive. His spine was made of steel and his heart was courageous.

If Dorian was dead, Rick was going to…he couldn’t breathe. All he could see was Dorian’s face as the man smiled at him, or laughed, making Rick’s heart lighter just from hearing the sound.

Dorian’s sigh.

Rick was not going to lose Dorian’s sigh. That sound kept Rick sane. It kept him from feeling like there was no more hope left in a world gone insane. That sigh colored the dark and murky days, making Rick believe that this war wasn’t the only thing left in the world. He listened for that sigh every night he went to sleep, every stolen moment they shared together. It was the sound of a man he loved more than his very own life.

He dropped his gun as his werewolf exploded from his body, and then Rick took off, his body burning with a mixture of violence and fear as the truck fell over the edge repeatedly in his mind. He ran down the first man, grabbing him and pulling him from his feet as Rick sank his teeth into the man’s throat and then furiously ripped it out with such force that nothing remained but the spine.

His anger was unleashed, and these men would find no mercy.

These men stood in the way of Rick going to Dorian. These savages had caused his mate to plummet over the edge.

They were all going to die.

“Go!” Sasha shouted at him. “We have this and you have a shooter down below with our men.”

How in the hell could Rick forget about Jayson’s ravaged face as he stared up at Rick, aiming his gun toward the front of the truck from the ravine below?

He wasn’t sure how Jayson survived the fall when the man had been sitting in the front seat, but he prayed his men had survived. Rick raced as fast as he could, climbing down the embankment, sliding through the dry earth, his breathing labored as he saw the front of his truck smashed to hell.

Please let them still be alive.

He quickly scanned the area as he scented the air, but Jayson’s scent was fading. The man had taken off. Rick couldn’t detect anyone else that might pose a threat, so he raced toward the truck. It was lying on the hood, upside down, but he could see Freedman crawling out of the back window.

That was a good sign.

The human dropped to his knees and then reached inside the truck, helping Ian get out.

“Dorian!” Rick called in his gravelly voice that was strained with desperation. “Dorian!”

“I’m here,” his mate called as he pushed his way out of the truck. The man stood, brushing himself off and looking a bit stunned, but he was alive. Rick pulled Dorian into his arms and hugged his mate so tightly that Dorian began smacking at Rick’s chest. “I’m fine, but you are about to bust some ribs.”

Rick released him, running his furry hands over Dorian’s head, feeling the relief wash over him as Peruvian-brown eyes stared up at him. “Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again.”

Dorian rolled his eyes, but there was a quivering just under his skin, telling Rick how truly scared he had been. “I promise to not fall over the side of an embankment again.”

Rick growled as the thought of losing the man hit him hard. “Not funny.”

Dorian shook his head and sighed, letting Rick’s heart finally beat again. The smell of relief and fear was scenting the air around them, letting Rick know that these men did indeed realize how fortunate they were to be alive. Rick glanced toward the sky, gazing through the canopy of trees, and let the knowledge that none of them had died settle his nerves.

Once he was composed, Rick turned, heading toward the back of the truck. “We have to get our things.” When Rick pulled his bag free, he shifted back into his human form and pulled some clothes out, dressing.

“Hey.” Dorian laid a hand on Rick’s arm, giving him a wavering smile. “I’m fine.”

“You could have died,
gatito
. What would I have done if you had left me?” he asked, pulling his arm free of Dorian’s touch and yanking the shirt over his head. He wasn’t as composed as he thought he was. His hands were shaking, but Rick tried his best to hide how truly shaken he was.

Dorian spun Rick around and hugged him, resting his cheek on Rick’s chest. Rick hesitated and then rested the palm of his hand on Dorian’s soft hair, grateful that he wasn’t burying his mate instead.

Rick looked down at his mate, knowing a life without Dorian was no life at all.

* * * *

Ian was trying his best not to shake apart as he stood there, watching Mason come toward him with a look of grim determination and total terror on his face.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as he checked Ian over, his strong hands running over Ian’s body.

“Just scared,” he admitted as he glanced at the truck, knowing how close he had come to dying. When Freedman had jumped into the backseat and wrapped his body around Ian and Dorian, Ian had thought in that moment that he wished it was Mason protecting him. He had wished it was Mason he was spending his last seconds on earth with.

But he was alive, and Mason was standing in front of him, looking as if he was about to fall apart. Ian glanced up at Mason, wanting the jaguar to hold him, to give him some measure of safety as he continued to shake apart.

Mason pulled Ian close, holding him as if he had been terrified Ian had died. His strong hand ran over Ian’s head, brushing through his hair. He could hear Mason’s heart under his ear, and it was beating rapidly. Ian curled his fingers into Mason’s shirt, telling himself that he hadn’t died, that Mason was there, giving Ian the anchor he needed.

“We need to get moving,” Rick said as he walked up beside them, interrupting the moment Ian was sharing with Mason. “Are you okay, Ian?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking fine, thanks for asking,” Freedman called to the four of them.

“You’re tough as steel, Freedman,” Rick replied. “It’ll take more than going over the side in a truck to kill you.” Rick’s eyes shifted back down to Dorian, and then Rick grabbed Dorian’s hand and began to walk toward the back of the truck once more.