He knew he couldn’t, though. Not because he was determined to live—although he’d definitely like to do that—but because he had to get to Blayne. If there was anything he could do for her, he would.

Bo made his body get up, but it was a new experience in torturous pain. An experience he hoped to never go through again. Forcing himself to see past everything that swimmed before him, Bo stumbled his way over to the van, his shattered right arm tucked tight against his body.

He felt panic sweep through him when he saw that the van had wrapped around a tree, the front and side windows blown out, bodies lying everywhere.

“Blayne?” His voice sounded garbled, and he knew that blood poured out of him. He ignored that and searched among the blood-covered and dressed-in-black bodies, hunting for Blayne.

Panting and trying not to pass out, Bo sniffed the air. His eyesight may be average but his sense of smell . . .

His gaze snapped over to a tree about twenty feet away. He walked/limped over to it, and as he got closer he saw her.

The wolfdog was covered in blood and, even scarier, she was wrapped around her own tree. He crouched beside her and touched her shoulder. Like a broken rag doll, she rolled over, and he could tell from the way her body moved that her bones were broken . . . possibly all of them.

“Oh, God. Blayne.” He touched her cheek with the back of his left hand. She still breathed but barely. “Blayne. I’m so sorry.”

His legs gave out from under him and he fell back on his ass. He sat there, panting, wishing he could change the entire night. Wishing he could tell Blayne how he really felt before he lost her like he’d lost nearly everyone else that had mattered to him. He wished he could—

Jesus Christ on a cross, you idiot!

Bo glanced around, everything growing hazier by the second. Yet he knew his uncle’s voice. He could hear it, like he’d been hearing it since he was ten years old.

Don’t sit there being pathetic. Do something, boy. Even if it’s wrong—do something!

His uncle was right. Bo had to do something. Anything.

He looked over at Blayne. She still had on the watch he’d given her, his having been ripped off when he tore through the van roof. The outside had been badly damaged, but Bo still held out hope for the inside. And at a cost of nearly fifty grand, the damn thing better survive a monumental crash.

Reaching over, more blood pouring from his mouth in the process—at least nothing hurts anymore—Bo grabbed Blayne’s watch and pushed the tiny button on the side, releasing the face plate. And thankfully, unlike the outside of the watch, the inside remained in perfect working order. Using the tip of his pinky finger, Bo pulled out the now active antenna and pressed the button built inside.

Letting out a relieved sigh he’d done that much, Bo dropped. The last thing he consciously remembered beforeeverything ended was putting his arm around Blayne and wishing that everything could have been different for them.

CHAPTER 15

Grigori Novikov woke up snarling.

“It’s not my phone,” a female voice snapped in the darkness.

Moving away from the warm body he’d been wrapped around, Grigori reached down to his jeans lying on the floor and dug the phone out of his front pocket.

“Yeah?”

“Grigori?”

Grigori had a hard time hearing the voice on the other end. There was a lot of background noise. Sounded like choppers. “Yeah.”

“It’s your cousin. Yuri.”

“Yeah?” Because God knew he had a lot of cousins.

“From Brooklyn. We got a retrieval call.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Bold.”

Wide awake, Grigori sat up. “Are you sure?”

“We’re sure. He’s in bad shape.”

“Bring him here.”

“There’s a hospital in the city—”

“That’s not prepped for a hybrid bear. Bring him here. We’ll be waiting for him.”

“Okay. We’re moving. One other thing.”

“What?”

“There’s a female.”

“Full-human?”

“No. But if she’s not dead, she will be.”

But he knew his nephew. If she was with Bold, they at least had to try. “Bring her.”

“You got it. I’m sending my son. We’ve got clean up here.”

The call disconnected, Grigori turned and dropped his feet to the floor.

“What is it?”

“It’s Bold,” he replied to the concerned voice. “He needs us.”

Gwen pushed up against Lock’s side until he took the hint and put his arm around her. She laughed again at the conversation between the two males. If anyone had told her a year ago she’d be engaged to a geeky bear with a honey fetish, she would have slapped some sense into them. But she was starting to realize that life was always about a little confusion. The more confusion, the more interesting.

“Maybe I should call Blayne,” Ric suggested after they’d finished their dessert and he was poured another cup of coffee.

“Why?” Gwen asked, although she already knew the answer.

“I don’t know if I trust him.” Something Gwen had already figured out, based on the reaction of both males when she told them how the hybrid had trapped Blayne into a dinner date. She thought it was funny and cute. The guys? Not so much.

“He’s an asshole,” Lock muttered in between sips of his coffee. Considering Lock usually had nothing bad to say about anyone, made it all the funnier when he did.