Blaze of Glory by Rory Michaels Mandy M. Roth Page A

into that Wilson surmised the device was built to prevent other supernaturals from sensing the presence of a cluster of them. If his hunch was right, it was some sort of modified L.R.A.D.—long-range acoustical device.
    In short, it blocked his ability to mentally or electronically call out to the I-Ops and the rest of the I-Op’s ability to call in. If they even were still looking for him, which he was fast beginning to doubt. But, if they were, static would be all that greeted them.
    Again, he sensed the call of a woman in need of him even when he shouldn’t have been able to receive any form of mental links. He struggled against the silver-coated chains digging into his wrists and ankles. They would cut through his limbs if he dared to continue to push. Understanding that fact, Wilson still tugged, needing to get to her, get free, anything beyond spending the rest of his days locked in a cell.
    Dead or alive, he would be free.
    Whatever his captors had injected him with dulled his senses, making things blur and his body weak. At random times, he could feel the Fae power his friend’s wife, Melanie, had passed onto him trying to surface but the magik either wasn’t sure what to do or knew he was clueless so it didn’t bother lending a hand. It probably figured he’d kill himself attempting to wield it. At this rate, he’d rather be dead than living like he was, so he was open to the idea.
    Groaning, he moved his head around, trying to work the kinks from his upper shoulders and neck. It didn’t work. Beyond that, his throat was dry and his body was weak. The food wasn’t fit for human consumption. Maggots infested the majority of it and the rest was in a state of decomposition. After a certain point, Wilson had forced some of the food down only to find it coming back up quickly. Still, any nourishment he could get was needed if he planned on regaining his strength and escaping.
    In shifted form, Wilson wasn’t too particular about what he ate or drank—that being said, his rat form wouldn’t even eat the food his captors continued to try to pawn off on him. Considering his rat form tended to eat just about anything that was saying a lot as to how dire his situation was.
    He tipped his head back, giving in to the need to sleep. He was almost completely out when a scent like he’d never smelled before came to him, causing his cock to harden and his body to light with need. He looked up to find Krauss’ men dragging an unconscious woman past his cell.
    The fierce need to protect her overtook him. Wilson surged forth, yanking with all his might against his restraints, reaching for her. He knew then it had been her call for help that he’d tried to answer.
    “ Get away from her!” Wilson roared, his body protesting his every movements, pain lancing through his limbs.
    The men stalled and stared at him before sharing a curious look.
    “ He’ll want to hear about this,” one said.
    The other nodded. “Definitely.”
    They continued down the hall, dragging the unconscious woman behind them. Wilson struggled against his chains, trying to get to her, until the pain was so unbearable that he passed out cold.
    END EXCERPT
    To learn about this, or other Mandy M. Roth titles, please visit her website at www.mandyroth.com