Family Pride (Blood of the Pride) by Sheryl Nantus

Author:Sheryl Nantus [Nantus, Sheryl]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2013-06-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

My finger tightened on the trigger. I’d never killed a man before but I considered this to be a damned good reason.

The thug sneered and increased his grip on Liam.

Suddenly his eyes went wide as if a whole SWAT team had somehow materialized around him.

The thug gasped. He looked through me and his lips fluttered.

I spotted Jess behind the kidnapper, her bloody claws already retracting. She pressed her lips into a tight line.

I lowered the pistol. I wouldn’t need it now.

He wavered for a second before letting out a mixture hiccup/cough. Blood drops splattered the blue baby blanket. His fingers trembled against the thin fabric.

The kidnapper arched back, hands dropping away in shock.

He let go of the baby.

The unmoving bundle plummeted toward the floor.

Bran dived forward, right into my line of fire. He pushed the table to one side with a mighty shove and slid on his knees along the bare wooden floor.

His knees smashed into the killer’s shins as he reached for Liam.

The man didn’t move, too busy gurgling for air. He hadn’t stopped looking at me, through me, as if he’d forgotten about the baby.

The baby fell into Bran’s arms. Liam didn’t move, didn’t struggle against the rough treatment.

Nothing.

My heart skipped a beat.

Bran fell back onto the floor, letting out a curse. A second later he rolled upright and bent over the bundle. “I don’t think he’s breathing.” He wrestled the blanket open.

I caught the smell of feces and urine.

The tiny face was pale, too pale.

Bran blew into the tiny button nose, a sharp puff.

A second later Liam gave out a happy gurgle and drew a deep breath. His eyes opened and he looked at Bran, his forehead furrowed with curiosity.

We all exhaled at the same time.

I grabbed the thin T-shirt the punk wore. Blood oozed from one edge of his mouth as he stared at me, his eyes growing duller by the second. His hands fell onto the chair’s arms, fingers gripping the shredded fabric.

“Who paid you? Who paid to have Callendar killed?”

He exhaled once, bloody spittle staining his shirt.

“Our Fath—”

His eyes rolled back in his head as he went limp, drowned in his own blood.

“Fuck,” I murmured, placing the pistol on the table.

“Mind your language. There’s a child present.” Jess nudged the body in the chair before her. “Damned fool.”

I looked at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed hard. “Just more paperwork.”

Inside I flinched. Killing humans was one thing Felis tried explicitly to avoid at all costs due to our superior skills. If and when we did it was an abnormality and had to be reported to the Grand Council. I had no doubt they’d accept Jess’s reasoning but it’d placed another weight on the older woman’s shoulders, one she had to carry alone.

I licked my lips, trying to find the words. “Thank you.”

“Better me than you,” Jess murmured.

“Damned fool.” I studied the body. “If he’d listened to me—”

“He was killing the baby and didn’t even notice it. Guy was too wired to listen to anyone, much less the woman holding his gun.

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