“Jenks,” I panted, knowing Ivy could hear. “They tagged me with one of those zip-strips. I can’t make a circle to hold them off anymore. We can’t let them get the focus. And I’m not strong enough to keep my mouth shut if they capture me.”

Jenks glanced at me and away. His grip tightened on the bloody pipe. “Any ideas?”

“Nope.” I panted, shifting my feet. “Unless you can hold them off long enough for me to get this damned strip off my foot.”

He jiggled out his knife, handing it to me. It was smeared with blood, and I felt sick. “I’ll keep them off you,” he said, his face going grim.

I handed it back, knowing he was more effective with it than I was. “They’re designed to be tamper resistant. It’s going to take a pair of bolt cutters.”

Jenks shifted his balance to his toes. “Then we fight until Ivy gets here.”

“Yep,” I agreed, fear settling firmly in me. This was bad. This was really bad.

My gaze darted to Brett as he scuffed his feet. Walter had joined him, the savage glint in his eyes born from his grief. From behind me came the sound of the street Weres pulling chains from around their waist and the snick of knives being opened.

Damn it all and shit on it. I did not want to die like this.

“Ma’am?” Brett drawled, drawing my attention to him. “It would save everyone a good deal of trouble if you would surrender your weapon and come with us.”

“Trouble?” I shouted back, releasing some pent-up frustration. “For who?” My gaze traveled over the Weres. They kept filing in, surrounding us. There were five alphas now. The street Weres at our backs, military Weres at the front, and the credit card Weres at the outskirts, keeping everything nice and quiet and the pedestrian traffic moving.

My stomach clenched when I realized three of the street Weres behind the Dumpster weren’t injured, but shifting. They were shifting in broad daylight. In a public street. With the intent to tear me to pieces. And they were doing it really fast.

“Ma’am,” Brett tried again, playing the good cop or simply buying time for the turning Weres. “Put down your weapon and kick it to me.”

“Go to hell, Brett,” I said darkly. “I’ve seen how you treat your guests. I know what it is now, and you aren’t getting it. And this isn’t a weapon, it’s a gun!”

Angry and frightened, I took aim and shot him.

A blur dove between us. One of his men took it instead. The Were hit the ground and skidded to a stop, out cold before his face ground into the pavement. Brett seemed shocked I’d actually shot at him, and I shrugged. At the outskirts, stupid people clapped in appreciation. I could not believe this. I was going to be hacked to shreds to the accompaniment of applause.

Brett glanced at them, then frowned. “Shoot her,” he said softly. “Just shoot her in the leg.”