by K. N. Banet
Mikkel started in for real after that, and I could see the fury on his face as he started beating me.
Blows rained down on my abdomen and ribs, and he nailed my face a couple of times.
I started to whimper as blood poured from a cut lip and bleeding nose. I could only hope it wasn’t broken. It didn’t feel broken. He said not to break anything. I held on to that little silver lining.
After what felt like an eternity, he was done and I was left whimpering in pain. He left the cell, and another male walked in, but I didn’t have the ability to string thoughts together, much less tell which one it was.
The hits continued. I started to scream in pain as they started landing on other bruises. My legs tried to give out, but the chain held me in place. Someone pulled my hair from behind.
When the second guy was done, Mikkel came back in front of me.
“How did you get pack magic?”
I opened my eyes, trying to blink away the blood that made them sting. The second guy had given me a cut on my forehead.
Mikkel was staring at me intently, thinking he would get what he wanted.
I spat my blood at him, seeing it splatter over his nose, mouth, and cheeks. He wiped it off slowly, then backhanded me. He moved aside for someone else again, and it continued.
I held on because the alternative was worse. If I gave up Brin, the fae would become Mikkel’s next victim, and I refused to be the cause of that. If I gave up anything I might know about Heath, it wouldn’t just be him in danger. Carey and Landon didn’t deserve my family’s enemies. They didn’t sign up for this. Carey deserved better than this from her werecat. I was supposed to be her knight in shining armor as Heath once called me. There was no way I could tell them anything that could endanger her.
And Hasan. I couldn’t disappoint him. Not now. He was my father, the only one I had who mattered anymore. He was my family. Jabari, Zuri, all of them—they were my family, and I couldn’t betray my family.
“If we go much longer, we’ll break her doing this,” someone said. My ears were ringing. “I say we let her pass out and heal a little. We can inflict more targeted pain for answers tomorrow.”
“I was hoping she would fall to a little brute force,” Mikkel muttered. He came in front of me again. “Jacky? Are you going to talk to us?”
I couldn’t even lift my head up. I wanted to fall down and sleep, and I didn’t much care who else was there. Keeping my eyes cracked open was hard enough.
He sighed.
“Let her down. We’ll continue tomorrow. We’ll step it up to the next level.”
“Mikkel, you know I can get her to tell us her every secret in an hour,” a male said with a little too much excitement. “Let me have her tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to go to that level yet. I know where and how you developed your skills. She’s another werecat. We start slow. We don’t want to resort to torture you’ve done on wolves yet.”
My stomach flipped, but when the chains released, I sank down and managed to crawl to the back of the cell as a couple of them jeered. I curled into a tight ball and fell asleep. If the sleep was good enough, the bruises would heal a little faster. That was all I cared about.
18
Chapter Eighteen
I was in a restless sleep when the loud footsteps overhead shook me awake. I sat up fast, looking up. My body screamed in protest after the beating I’d taken the day before, and I knew it was only the beginning of the torture I was going to have to endure. I was alone in the basement, something I was somewhat grateful for because I was pretty certain there were tears on my cheeks.
“What’s wrong, Carter?” Mikkel asked, growling in annoyance that must have carried over from the conversation I had with him.
“We smelled wolves out on a couple of the trails,” the southern male answered. “Fucking wolves, Mikkel. The two we scented in her territory.”
Heath and Landon. How…What the fuck are they doing? They can’t beat seven healthy werecats.
Fear gripped my heart, but at the same time, a little bit of relief came through.
My wolves are looking for me.
“Goddamn it,” Mikkel snarled. “Wake up everyone. I want to get as many of us out there as we can. Maybe we can track them down and make an example of them like we planned.”
“We’re hunting to kill?” Sam asked, his slightly Boston accent helping me know it was him.
“Of course, we are. I wanted those wolves, so I could drop them at the feet of the fucking Tribunal werewolves. A lesson that they don’t get to fucking meddle in our affairs.” By the bloodthirsty way Mikkel said that, I had a feeling Heath and Landon were in for a hard fight I knew they would lose. He wanted to rip them to pieces.
There was a lot of moving around above me as Mikkel barked more orders. I heard people shuffle around, getting outside, and even some growls and the cracks of bones as a few of them Changed into their werecat forms. Fiora and Mikkel stomped down the stairs, Sam following them.
“Are you in any contact with them?” Mikkel asked, coming to the bars. I stayed on the far side, knowing not to go anywhere near him. I had given Lani a love tap compared to what he could do to me.
I also didn’t answer, keeping my mouth firmly shut as I glared at the werecat.
“She’s not going to answer,” Sam said in a mutter. “Let me have her, boss. You know I can work out the information you need.”
“I’m leaving Fiora with you. You won’t maim her. You won’t scar her. Not yet. If she tells you anything, lock her back in there to lick her wounds.” He stormed out of the room, and I heard the signs of him Changing and heading outside.
“It’s just us, then,” Fiora said with a smile. She was wearing gloves, which disturbed me a little. Was she scared of blood getting under her nails? “Sam, you really know how to do this?”
“I tortured wolves for information during the War.”
That put him at least eight hundred years old, which didn’t fit anything I thought. His accent was suddenly very out of place.
“I thought you were from Boston,” I mumbled, looking over his face. For some reason, casual conversation seemed like a good idea. He gave me a twisted smile.
“I came over when England decided to colonize the New World and get away from the troubles of the homeland. Picked up a little of the accent to blend in better, and it’s stuck. I like it.” He reached down for the toolbox and popped it open. I tried to keep my breathing steady. “Now, we’re doing this because you’ve been surprisingly close-lipped this last week. With the fucking werewolves out there running around, it’s a good time to get answers. You’re going to tell me what we want to know now, or I start hurting you. Your choice, Jacqueline.”
I bared my teeth at my name. “Only Hasan calls me that.”
“I don’t like you, but I don’t want to see you get tortured,” Fiora said gently. “Just tell us what we want to hear. Are you in contact with the wolves through pack magic?”
My mouth stayed shut. After a moment, Fiora sighed and pulled handcuffs out of her jacket pocket. I realized the need for the gloves as I could tell they had silver in the mix. Once those were on me, Changing into my werecat form would be impossible without cutting off my own front paws or breaking bones and disfiguring myself. She pulled a gun out next and pointed it at me as she flicked off the safety.
This can’t be happening. They fully intend to torture me, and there’s no way in hell I have a chance once they start doing that. I have to get out now. There’s no other option.
With that thought, I started planning. There were only two of them. Silver handcuffs and a gun, probably loaded with silver bullets. Sam was pulling out things I didn’t expect to see from a boring toolbox—torturer’s tools.
“Get her out here and handcuff her with her arms behind her. I’ve got two other pairs for her ankles. That should secure her to the chair.”
“Get the door,” Fiora said, keeping her eyes on me.
I was
only going to have moments to pull this off, and I was hurting.
Sam unlocked the cell door and opened it slowly, his eyes on me as intently as Fiora’s. She slowly walked in, the handcuffs ready in one hand, the gun pointed directly at the center of my chest.
My heart was beating wildly as I assessed the situation. I had to get that gun off me because she was probably going to be trigger happy and take a shot. Killing me was probably their plan if I tried to escape. Then there was Sam behind her, waiting in the door of the cell as she drew closer. I was going to have to fight both of them, but I knew this was the best chance I was going to get. Maybe they knew it too, or maybe they thought I was going to submit to being tortured.
And in the back of my mind, I knew Heath and Landon could possibly be outside, looking for me and this house. They were going to get killed now that Mikkel knew they were around.
I can’t let that happen. I have to get out there and help them.
“Turn around and put your hands behind your back,” she ordered me, stopping in the middle of the cell. I did as she asked, breathing hard, my fear stinking up the air.
“Still silent and strong. Impressive when we can all smell how much you don’t want this to happen,” Sam commented lightly as if he was mildly impressed and amused. “All you need to do is tell us what we want to know.”
I waited as Fiora came up behind me, slowing my breathing as I concentrated on her heartbeat, her breathing, the light shuffle of her clothing.
I only had one chance.
When she was close enough to touch, close enough to feel her breath on the back of my head, making my dirty brown hair move, and I felt her fumble with the handcuffs to get them in position to cuff me, I knew it was time.
Spinning around, I lifted my hand and pushed the gun to the side with a snarl. It fired a moment later, and a flash of burning pain erupted as the bullet grazed my shoulder and hit the wall behind me.
Throwing my head forward, I slammed into her nose. I had no idea how to fight like this and was just going for it. She screamed and stumbled back. I took my chance to reach for the gun in her hand before she could pull it back up and take another shot.
Right as my hand wrapped around hers, Sam rammed into me and sent me into the back wall, bringing Fiora with us. The gun discharged again, and someone screamed, probably hit. I brought my knee up as hard as I could, hoping to hit either of them and felt an impact, but nothing came of it. One of them stumbled back, and I could smell the blood in the air. I shoved the other back with my free arm, keeping my hand on the gun. It was Fiora, and she tried to yank the gun from me.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” she screeched.
I lifted a bare foot and kicked out, hitting her on the thigh. She brought her free hand up and sucker punched me. Neither of us let go of the gun. It fired again, hitting the concrete floor, and I knew with three gunshots, the other werecats would possibly be coming back. That was going to leave me pressed for time, and time was not a luxury I had.
I snarled and brought my free hand up as well, landing a full powered hit to her jaw. Before she could retaliate, I grabbed the front of her shirt and swung her back toward the wall, enjoying the crunch of her hitting it. Her grip loosened just enough that I could take control of the damn gun, then I kneed her again in the gut.
I turned around to run for the cell door, but Sam was already up, jumping into me, his shoulder hitting my gut hard enough to knock the wind out of me. I had the gun, though, and fired down at him.
He went limp, and I ran for the door, trying to breathe as Fiora screamed. I threw the door shut and kept running, not wanting to waste any more time. I didn’t need to kill them all right now.
I just needed to not die.
Once I was running up the stairs, and she wasn’t following me, I felt more comfortable. Not by much, but a glimmer of hope was there. I hit the kitchen floor and began my Change, letting it whip through me painfully and without a fight. I didn’t care if the door was open or not, slamming into it and knocking it open with the sheer force of my body weight.
I was elated to see grass on the other side, but I didn’t stop to enjoy it, running at full speed toward the trees. As I ran, I saw a werecat come out and stop in what was probably shock at my appearance. I didn’t miss a beat, leaping and landing on the other werecat, rolling painfully as my teeth and claws sank in to cause some damage that might slow it down in the chase I knew was going to follow.
It wasn’t until I let go and continued running that I realized it was Lani’s blood on my tongue. A roar filled the air, and I knew the hunt was on.
They’re all going to be coming after me. I can’t stop moving. The more distance I get, the better chance I have.
I had already played this particular game once and had made the mistake of hesitating because I was outside my territory. This time, I didn’t slow down or look out for possible humans. I only ran. I wasn’t as fast as normal, tired from lack of proper sleep, weak from lack of a proper diet, but I was smaller than most of the others, and hopefully, that translated into more speed.
Another roar filled the night, and I realized I needed to try for more than just running.
“HEATH!” I screamed desperately into the mental void of pack magic, knowing it was probably going to go into every head within a mile. Hopefully there were no humans around with roaring werecats and voices in their heads.
I heard the thudding of paws behind me and hoped it was only Lani trying to keep on my tail.
“Heath!” I yelled again.
“Jacky?”
It was so faint. I didn’t stop moving, but there it was. He was somewhere out there.
“Where are you?” I yelled. Behind me, someone snarled viciously as they ran. I cut a tight turn and tried to leave the pursuer scrambling to make the turn.
“Where are you?” he asked back, still faint.
“I don’t know!” I screamed desperately.
A howl filled the air, and I was certain every werecat within twenty miles heard it. I turned for it, running at full speed.
“You fucking idiot!” I screamed, now more enraged than anything else.
“Don’t worry about me. Keep running!” he ordered.
For once, I followed the Alpha tone without back talk or smack. I hauled ass, hoping to get to wherever he was. Now that I had a general idea which direction to go, finding him would be infinitely easier.
But it was also going to be so much easier for the other werecats, and I knew they would want him dead. By now, I was positive everyone realized I had escaped.
I was heading fast down a trail when another werecat hit the side of me, sending me into the bushes. The feline scream that left me was ear piercing as claws and fangs broke skin, and we kicked at each other, a bloody, brutal fight for survival. I kicked the other werecat off though, because I had a different objective. I didn’t want to fight all of them, not right now. I needed to run, and I needed to keep my wolves alive. Heath and Landon were only there trying to find me. I couldn’t let them die.
I left the other werecat and was able to get a running lead on him, continuing to move for the area the howl had come from. Finally, I caught the scent of wolf on the ground, knowing it had to be one of the trails they used. Refusing to slow down, I kicked up dirt and left my claws out, hoping the traction would be helpful.
Finally, I broke through the dense thicket and saw a road. I hit it and turned to see that fucking truck. Heath’s fucking truck. I hated the obnoxious thing, but I wanted to cry as it came into sight.
Heath stood in the bed of it, a shotgun aimed and ready to fire.
“It’s me!” I yelled. “I’m coming—”
A werecat hit me and sent me tumbling across the asphalt. I swatted at its head when it tried to bite me. We circled, and I snarled.
“Jacky!” Heath yelled. “Let’s go!”
“Start driving. I’ll catch up. Go before the other werecats get here.” I couldn’t run for him with another
werecat on my heels. He would end up being the target.
I heard the truck moving, and the other werecat realized it as well. We both started running after it. I saw Heath keeping aim, waiting for anything to jump at him. The shotgun wouldn’t be enough stopping power for an over five-hundred-pound werecat mid-leap, but close enough, he would kill it as he died underneath it.
The other werecat shouldered me, trying to knock me off my pursuit of the truck. I snarled and tried to pick up my speed. I wasn’t paying attention, but Heath must have put the shotgun aside because the gun that fired next was a rifle. He’d come ready for a fight. The werecat beside me was hit with the second shot and tumbled to the ground. The truck slowed down, and I made a jump for it as Heath tried to get out of my way.
I landed in the bed of the truck hard enough that the entire damn thing bounced. The speed picked up again. Landon was in the driver’s seat and must have stepped on the gas the moment I was in. I lifted my head, ignoring Heath for a moment as I watched werecats fly out of the woods and watch us drive away, knowing they couldn’t keep up with the truck screaming down the road. Soon they became dots, and eventually they disappeared.
I wasted no more time, beginning a slow Change back into my human form. I was exhausted and injured, and it didn’t come easy, but I was eventually panting in my human body, staring at the black bottom of the truck bed.
A hand reached out and gently touched my shoulder, carefully avoiding my bruises.
“Stay down,” he ordered. “We’re both naked as the day we were born, and we could get in serious trouble. Last thing we need is human law enforcement getting involved. With the way you look, Landon and I would go to jail for a very long time.”
I turned my head slightly to see he was right. He wasn’t wearing a shred of clothing. If I wasn’t torn up and tired, still more than a little scared for my life, I would have tried to appreciate it. As it was, I was grateful I didn’t immediately grow red in the face. The nakedness was practical, not sexual.