Finding Chrissten: Legacy, Book 5 Read Free Page A

head.
    Damek raised an eyebrow and slightly inclined his head in acknowledgement. No one knew how powerful the bastard was, but Hank had seen him take control of a pureblood werewolf’s mind like it was nothing. Hank wasn’t under any illusions that the vampire couldn’t break down his defenses given time. But he wanted the creature set on notice that he wouldn’t make it easy for him, would fight if necessary.
    “What did you find out?” Quinn stepped up with Bethany right beside him. She rested her hand on his arm and Hank had the feeling that light touch was the only thing restraining Quinn. They were all on edge after missing rescuing Chrissten less than a week before.
    “I have a possible location.” Damek’s declaration had Hank moving away from his post by the wall. His heart was pounding with anticipation.
    “Where?” Isaiah stepped in front of Damek, making the vampire frown.
    Instead of telling them, he glanced out the window. “Dawn is getting closer. I suggest we hurry.”
    Quinn swore and lunged, but Isaiah blocked him with his big body. “Get a grip on yourself, Quinn. We need Damek’s help.”
    Quinn tensed but nodded, and they all trooped out to the vehicles waiting in the alleyway behind the building. Hank thought about his sniper rifle tucked away upstairs in the back of his closet, but dismissed it. This fight wouldn’t be about conventional weapons. If it came down to a fight it would be all about brute strength and cunning.
    Isaiah, Meredith, Quinn, Bethany and Craig all went in the SUV. Michael, Benjamin, Kevin, Teague, Neema, himself and Damek all piled into the van. The silence was deafening as they drove through the lonely city streets with Damek barking the occasional direction.
    As Hank expected, they were heading to a derelict and dangerous section of the city. Not surprising in the least. The people who lived here didn’t ask questions and minded their own business. Drug dealers, the sound of gunshots and the cries of despair were a part of their daily life. If they noticed some shady looking men going in and out of an abandoned building, no one would think to call the cops. They didn’t want to bring trouble down on themselves and many of them had things they wanted to hide from the authorities.
    Hank forced himself to relax, but it wasn’t easy. Every muscle in his body was primed and ready to explode into action. His heart rate settled into a heavy, steady rhythm and his breathing was even. It was the same way before he went into any battle. His body knew what it had to do and did it, turning him into the perfect fighting machine.
    A bead of sweat formed on his temple but he ignored it. This wasn’t Iraq. This was Chicago. He refused to allow nightmares from the past to intrude on the present. A woman was depending on him.
    Chrissten. He could easily picture her face. Craig had shown him several photos and the images were ingrained in his brain—her long blond hair, pale blue eyes and slender, athletic body. But it was her smile that had captivated him, full of mischief and life. He took a deep breath and swore he could smell her, the light fragrance that never failed to remind him of a summer’s day.
    He felt someone watching him and slowly raised his head. The vampire was staring at him with black, soulless eyes. Hank ignored Damek as best he could, focusing on the fight ahead.
    “Turn right at the lights,” Damek instructed, and Michael turned the van down the road with the SUV following close behind them.
    Hank started to take note of the people on the street. Even at this time of night there was plenty of activity. A man with baggy pants and a flashy leather jacket sold drugs on the corner to a trio of young men. On the opposite side of the road two women in skirts so short they were probably illegal in some states plied their trade. By a crumbling stoop, a drunk curled up with the remains of his bottle.
    “Pull over here.” Damek had the door open and was out