"Go!" Buck growled. Blood ran down his arm, but his eyes were fierce. "We've got this. Get that bastard!"
The vehicle hit the old logging road at dangerous speed, taillights disappearing into the forest. Joy's roar of fury echoed off the mountains. He was escaping. The man who'd orchestrated everything, who'd burned her hives and tried to steal their land, was running.
Joy needed no further urging. She burst into motion, muscles stretching into a full sprint. Andre crashed through the underbrush beside her, his longer stride matching her speed.
The SUV's taillights flickered through the trees ahead, following the winding logging road. Her muscles burned as she pushed harder. Andre's breathing came in great bellows beside her, but he didn't slow. They ran as they'd fought. Together. United in purpose.
Joy's muscles burned with each stride, her powerful haunches launching her over fallen logs and around granite boulders. Pine needles whispered beneath her paws, the soft forest floor absorbing the sound of her pursuit. To her left, Andre crashed through the undergrowth.
The SUV's taillights flashed between the trees like fleeing prey. The vehicle's engine whined as Prescott pushed hard on the rough road. Gravel sprayed from spinning tires as he took another turn. The SUV fishtailed, brake lights flaring as he fought for control.
Her sides heaved with each breath, but she pushed harder. The memory of dead bees carpeting the ground drove her forward. Twenty-four thousand tiny lives sacrificed to one man's greed. A new sound cut through the forest. The rhythmic chop of helicopter rotors.
Rage surged through Joy's body. He'd planned this escape. Every detail orchestrated, including the retreat. The burn in her legs transformed into liquid fire, but she embraced it. Let it fuel her. Andre roared beside her, the sound echoing off the mountain walls. His fury matched hers, their hunt perfectly synchronized even in rage.
The road began to level out. They were close. The trees thinned ahead, artificial light glowing beyond the forest edge. The SUV pulled away slightly on the straightaway, but it didn't matter now. She could see the tree line ending. See the cleared plateau beyond.
Joy cut the final corner, leaving the road for a direct line through the last stand of pines. Branches whipped past her face. A fallen log required a leap that sent pain shooting through her already screaming muscles. But nothing mattered except catching him.
She burst from the forest onto the airstrip.
The helicopter sat in the center of the cleared area, rotors spinning. Grass flattened in perfect circles from the wash. The pilot gestured urgently from the open door.
Prescott himself stumbled from the SUV, a laptop bag clutched against his chest. His designer shoes slipped on the grass, arms windmilling for balance. Twenty yards to the helicopter. Fifteen. Ten.
Andre's charge shook the earth.
The ground trembled beneath his massive paws. Each stride covered impossible distance. Prescott heard him coming and turned, eyes going wide with primal fear. His scream tore from his throat, lost in the rotor noise. He swung the laptop bag up like a shield, as if leather and electronics could stop the force of nature bearing down on him.
Joy added her roar to Andre's, the sound of two predators closing on their prey. The pilot's face went white. His hands moved frantically over the controls, trying to lift off. But Prescott was still too far away. Still stumbling across the grass in his expensive shoes while death closed in.
Five yards. Three. Two.
Andre's massive form gathered and launched through the air. All that weight and power focused into a leap that defied physics. Prescott's face contorted in a final moment of horror, mouth open in a scream.
The helicopter was so close. Freedom just steps away. Everything Prescott had worked for, schemed for, killed for, measured in the distance between his reaching hand and the open door.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Andre'sfull weight slammed into Prescott, driving the man into the ground. They tumbled across the grass in a tangle of limbs and torn fabric. The laptop bag flew from Prescott's grip, its zipper bursting on impact. Papers exploded into the rotor wash, financial documents and building plans whirling through the air like snow.
Prescott's screams came high and terrified, the sound of a man who'd never faced real consequences. His expensive suit tore at the shoulder seam, grass stains spreading across the Italian wool. The sound satisfied something primal in Andre's chest.
He forced the change, his bear receding with reluctance. The cool night air hit his naked skin, raising goosebumps along his arms and back. Prescott scrambled on his hands and knees toward the helicopter, designer shoes slipping on wet grass. Andre's hand closed around his ankle, fingers digging into soft flesh above the leather.
"No!" Prescott clawed at the ground as Andre dragged him back. "You can't! Do you know who I am?"
Andre flipped him onto his back. His knee planted on Prescott's chest, weight distributed to control without crushing. The position was textbook, drilled into muscle memory through years of training.
"Jason Prescott, you're under arrest." The words came out steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Conspiracy, arson, racketeering, attempted murder."
Prescott's face turned purple with rage. "You're nothing! Animals! Beasts!" Spittle flew with each word. "My grandfather built an empire! You've squatted on our land for fifty years!"
Movement caught Andre's eye. Joy had shifted back, her naked form moving with focused determination as she gathered the scattered papers. Financial documents floated like ghosts in the helicopter's dying rotor wash. She snatched them from the air, building a stack of evidence.
The helicopter's rotors slowed, engine powering down. The pilot's hands rose, visible and empty through the cockpit glass.
