I had to get to Gran before it was too late.
When the cabin came into view, I thought I’d feel a sense of relief but I didn’t. Instead, the sight of it amped up my panic. I jogged up the steps to the porch and made my way to the door faster than I ever had before. When I swung the door open and made my way inside, I spotted Liam in the kitchen. Voices from Gran’s bedroom floated to my ears, and I headed in that direction, bolting down the tiny hall to her room. The door was open, and from where I stood, I could see her on the bed. She looked frail. The hollows of her eyes were more profound than this morning, and her skin had taken on a pasty complexion.
“Sam,” she whispered, catching sight of me in the hall. Her chest heaved as she tried to pull in another breath so she could say something else to me. I wanted to tell her there was no need that she should save her breath and her energy, but I knew she wouldn’t listen. Instead, I made my way to the side of her bed and grabbed hold of her hand. It was cold to the touch and slightly clammy, but I still gripped it tight. “There used to be a day when seeing you come home dressed like that with a shirtless Nash at your side would have sent me into a tailspin.” She flashed me a smile, her dry lips cracking with the movement.
My cheeks heated as I tugged at the hem of Nash’s t-shirt with my free hand. It did no good.
“And it doesn’t now?” I asked, returning her smile.
She patted my hand. “Not in the least. It makes me happy. I’m glad to see the two of you have rekindled your flame.” Her eyes shifted to Nash, who stood behind me, they lingered there for a split-second before returning to mine. “I’ve always known the two of you were kindred spirits. I’m glad to see you found each other again.” She closed her eyes, and I held my breath, listening for the soft sound of her ragged breathing. It was there. Faint, but still there.
“She’s sleeping,” I said to no one in particular, and maybe just to myself. “She’s just sleeping.”
A warm, strong hand slipped along my back. Nash. I leaned into his touch, grateful for it.
“She is,” he insisted.
He didn’t say what we both knew—what all of us knew—that Gran could slip away any second.
“I gave her some of the cough medicine the doctor prescribed. It has something in it that makes her sleepy. She’ll probably nap for an hour or so again,” Tris said. “I’m sure she’ll feel better and more like her old self when she wakes.”
She wouldn’t, but I didn’t say that. I didn’t need to because I knew it was something each of us was thinking. Tris was only trying to be nice.
“We should probably let her rest,” Liam insisted. Even though I was no longer a full-fledged member of this clan, I could still pick up on his sense of authority. It lingered in his tone and rippled in the air around him as we all filed out of Gran’s bedroom.
I closed the door behind me until it made a soft click, and then sighed. My heart still raced, and my bear paced while my unease and worry leaked over to her, but I felt better for having talked to her, for having held her hand.
“Anyone feel like having some cobbler?” I asked as we made our way down the tiny hall to the open area of the cabin.
Gravel crunching beneath tires filtered through the living room.
“That would be Rafe and Penny,” Liam said as he made his way to the door. “They were searching the campground for you. Rhett and Vada opted to check the Yona Waterfall trail since we all know that was y’all’s favorite place.” A smirk twisted his lips.
Tris slapped Liam playfully in the gut, and I wondered how much she’d been told about Nash and I’s history.
Liam opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. The rest of us followed. Rafe cut the engine on the golf cart he drove. When his eyes landed on Nash and me, a wicked grin twisted his lips.
“Well, look at the two of you. Nearly naked as always.” His grin grew and Penny shot him a death glare.
“Not the time for jokes,” she insisted. I liked her already. Anyone who could set Rafe straight in seconds was a keeper in my book. His mouth and lack of thought behind his word choices had always been his downfall.
Rafe’s grin disappeared. “You’re right. It’s not.” He coughed into his hand and then cleared his throat, straightening his posture before he slipped out of the golf cart. “I’m sorry. How is Dottie?”
“Her coughing is under control, and she’s sleeping for now,” Tris said before I could answer.
“What’s your plan?” Penny asked, her eyes on me. They were soft and filled with compassion, but also serious.
I licked my lips. “What do you mean? Plan for what?”
“Are you going to let it happen here, or do you think she’d prefer to be at a hospital when she passes instead?” Penny asked. I could tell from the expression on her face she was trying to be as gentle as she could, but that she also seemed to have experience with this type of situation. There was a haunted look reflected in her eyes that could have only come from having gone through something similar with someone she loved.
“I don’t know. I mean, I haven’t given it much thought. She hasn’t talked about that with me yet,” I insisted, hating the turn this conversation had taken.
“She will,” Nash said. “When the time is right, she will. She’ll know, and she’ll tell you what she wants.” He draped an arm over my shoulder and pulled me close. I didn’t shrink away from his touch and I didn’t pull back. Instead, I melted into his side because right now it was the only place I wanted to be.
“I forgot how much you enjoy cooking,” I said as I stirred more sugar into the sweet tea pitcher. There was a desired amount needed to make it just right, and Gran had always told me to never judge that amount by sight but instead by taste. This batch wasn’t nearly sweet enough yet.
Nash glanced at me from over his shoulder and flashed me a crooked grin that spent warmth spiraling through me. He stood at the kitchen counter, preparing teriyaki chicken kebabs. “Some things never change.” He nodded to the pitcher of tea in front of me. “Like the way you still don’t measure the sugar you put in there.”
“I taught her that,” Gran insisted from where she sat at the tiny dining table, mixing up a batch of her famous potato salad. Nash and I had tried to get her to rest more, but she argued that she’d spent all day in bed and refused to go back. “It’s one of the tricks to good southern tea. You never measure the sugar. It’s all done by taste.”
A knock sounded at the front door, and I set my wooden spoon down to answer it. “Looks like everyone else is early,” I said. The others weren’t supposed to be back for the cookout with a side in hand for at least an hour. A grin twisted my lips as I tried to guess who would have swung by sooner. Before I could answer the door, my bear caught the scent of something off and shifted into high alert. My heart raced as I swung the door of the cabin open.
“Hello, Miss Mathers,” Damon Kincaid said with a smirk. He was dressed in an expensive suit, which had him looking out of place with the campground as his backdrop, and his hands were clasped together in front of him. “I told you I’d be in touch.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, shocked by the sight of him. My bear worked her way to the surface, but I reined her in as best I could. She didn’t like the sight of him, knowing he was most likely up to no good.
“Sam? Who is it?” Nash asked from the kitchen.
I didn’t get to answer him because Damon stepped aside and one of the two buff giants flanking him stepped forward and covered my face with a chemical-soaked cloth. I tried to fight, to not inhale, but it wasn’t possible. The more I struggled, the tighter the snake’s grip on me became and the more my lungs burned for air. A commotion broke out as I was pulled from the cabin. Gran called for me, and the fight that broke out reached a new level of chaos. Instinctively, I knew it was Nash trying to reach me.
I pulled in a breath of air, not able to fight against the need for it any longer, and my limbs grew slack as darkness swallowed me whole.
The scent of leather lingered in the air when my eyes fluttered open. My head felt foggy, and I was slightly disoriented as I shifted to look at my surroundings. The light inside the place was too bright, but after a few blinks my eyes adjusted.
Where was I?
My thoughts were fuzzy as I tried to pick through them and figure out what had happened. All I remembered was being at Gran’s and there being a knock at the door.
“Ah, you’re awake. Good,” a familiar voice said from across the apartment. I shifted around to lock eyes with Damon Kincaid, and everything came rushing back.
“What the hell am I doing here?” I demanded. My tone was rigid and harsh, but I didn’t care. I was pissed. I slid to the edge of the leather couch I’d been placed on and fought against the nausea the movement caused. “You had no right to bring me here.”
The apartment spun, and I thought I might be sick.
“Relax and let the chloroform wear off properly. You’re fine. You’re not in any danger—as long as you do as I ask,” he said with a devilish smirk. His pupils elongated like a snake’s, and his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. It lingered along his bottom lip longer than it should, leaving me to wonder if he was tasting my emotions. My skin crawled, and my bear grew animated. She was frantic, trying to figure out how we were going to get out of this situation. “There’s a glass of water on the end table, and I’ve ordered you some food from a local place. It should be arriving soon.”
“I’m not hungry, and I don’t want water. All I want is to go home,” I snapped.
Tension radiated through Damon’s jaw, and a coldness became reflected in his eyes. “And you will—as soon as you paint me what I ask.”
“I already told you I can’t paint what you want. My gift doesn’t work like that.” I shook my head, ignoring the way it made bile rise up the back of my throat and swallowed hard. “I can’t be here. I have to go back. Now.”
Gran needed me.
The painting of our hands and the energy sparking between them flashed through my mind. My stomach bottomed out. With me being gone, that energy had stopped flowing.
I needed to get back to Gem Creek.
My gaze locked on the door to my right. If I could make it there, I might have a chance of getting free.
“As you can see, I don’t care. You will use your talent to paint what I ask,” Damon insisted. “And you’re not leaving here until you do so don’t even think of running. My guys are just outside the door, ready and waiting to haul you right back inside. Save yourself the struggle.” There was such harshness to his tone, such certainty, that I knew no amount of begging or pleading would get me anywhere with him. And as he rolled up the cuffs of his perfectly starched white button-down with his eyes never wavering from mine, I knew no amount of fighting would get me anywhere either. Damon was six feet tall and easily had a sixty pounds or more on me. He didn’t need the help of the guys waiting beyond the door to take me down. He could do it all on his own.
My bear nudged me, reminding me she was here and willing to try and take him if I let her. I couldn’t, though. Not because I didn’t think we would win, but because we weren’t in Gem Creek anymore. The view of skyscrapers outside the floor-to-ceiling windows behind Damon were proof. Shifting into my bear in a penthouse apartment in the middle of a city probably wasn’t the best idea.
City?
My mouth fell open. I focused on one of the buildings in the distance. It was a place I’d been before.
“You took me back to Denton?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“Yes.”
My hands flew to my temples. Shit. That meant I’ve been out for at least five hours, depending on how fast the moron driving me here had gone.
My stomach twisted because I knew Gran and Nash had to be flipping out.
Heck, I was sure everyone in the clan was by now. I’d gone to answer the door and was abducted from the campground.
“You didn’t hurt anyone when you took me, did you?” I asked, praying he said no.
Damon’s eyes flashed with his snake again. “Only those who tried to get in the way.”
My pulse hammered in my ears as pure rage swam through my veins.
“If you hurt my Gran, just know that I will kill you,” I seethed through clenched teeth, not holding back the venom in my tone.
Damon’s head flung back, and he laughed. It was deep and venomous sounding, exactly like I’d expect a villain’s laugh to sound. “What kind of monster do you think I am, Miss Mathers? I would never hurt an old woman. Especially not one as sick as your grandmother.” His eyes darkened, and his expression seemed to harden.“If you’d like to return to her before she passes, I suggest you paint what I request.”
Angry tears built in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“I need to use my phone,” I said.
Damon grinned. “Not happening.”
“I need to make sure my Gran is okay and let her know that I’m okay too.”
Damon rubbed his chin in thought, his eyes never wavering from mine. “Okay. I’ll agree to let you call her. You can ask how she is, and let her know you are unharmed, but nothing else. You will not tell her where you are.”
“Why?” I asked. “Are you afraid some bears might come for you?”
I knew I shouldn’t provoke him, but I couldn’t help myself.
Damon dashed across the apartment, his eyes flashing with his snake, and grabbed hold of my upper arm. His fingers squeezed so hard I knew they’d leave a bruise. I didn’t make a noise though. I refused to give him that satisfaction. My bear grew agitated. I could feel her fur bristle, and a low grumble rippled through her. She wanted Damon to remove his hand from us. I allowed her to scratch the surface close enough to brighten my eyes, sending him a reminder that I wasn’t a weak human. He needed to tread lightly.
“Call your Gran. Tell her I’ll return you unharmed if you do what I ask,” Damon seethed through gritted teeth as he released my arm. “If you breathe a word of where you are, I can guarantee you won’t like what happens next.” His tongue flicked out like a snake as his eyes elongated again, and for the first time since I’d met him, I wondered exactly what type of snake he was.
“Noted,” I breathed.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out my cell, then tossed it to me. I dialed Gran’s number.
“Sam! Are you okay? Where are you?” she answered on the second ring. “And who the hell were those guys?”
“I’m fine. I’ll be home soon. Please take care of yourself, okay? Rest.”
“Rest? How can you tell me to rest when you were taken off my front porch by slimy snake shifters?” Gran demanded.
“Tell that bastard I’ll kill him,” Nash shouted in the background. “All of them.”
“Shh, be quiet.” Gran scolded him. “Sam, tell me where you are.”
Damon snatched the phone out of my hand and ended the call before I could reply. “You said what you needed. Your grandmother is fine. Now it’s time you use your talent to paint something for me.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I’ve already told you I can’t.”
“And I’ve already told you that you won’t be leaving here until you do.” His tone dipped, and I knew he was losing patience with me.
“Fine. What would you like me to paint?” I asked, humoring him. Who knew, maybe him telling me what he was after might trigger something and my gift would shine through?
A crazed smile sprang onto his face. “The whereabouts of my Mystic.”
I blinked. “Why?”
Was he lonely? Why couldn’t he just wait for fate to run its course?
Something shifted through his eyes, but it was gone before I could name it. “I have my reasons.”
“Okay, but that’s not something I can guarantee I’ll be able to paint. I told you, my gift isn’t something I control,” I said, reminding him.
Damon crossed the expansive apartment, stepping into the kitchen. I watched as he pulled a bottle of red wine from a rack and uncorked it like a pro. “Figure it out. Time is ticking.”
My bear roared so hard my body vibrated with the force of it. She hated him, and frankly, so did I. If Damon was able to pick up on the hatred, he didn’t let on. Instead, he retrieved two wine glasses from a cabinet near the sink and poured us both a drink. He took a sip from his. I watched as he rolled it around on his tongue, savoring the taste.
“You don’t seem to understand that I don’t get to pick what I paint. I don’t get a say in the images that come to me. They just come. It’s not something I can force,” I said, growing animated. Taming my bear and trying my best not to flip out was becoming more and more difficult.
“And you don’t seem to understand that I don’t care.” He motioned to the second glass of wine. “This one is yours. Maybe it will get things flowing for you. Your setup is over there in the corner.”
The sound of my cell vibrating with a new text or call made its way to my ears. I locked eyes with Damon, knowing it was most likely Gran calling me back or Nash trying to get a hold of me.
My blood boiled.
Damon did nothing besides smirk, and I knew it was because he absolutely could sense my anger. He nodded to the glass of wine once more. I didn’t take it. Instead, I headed to the setup he’d created for me in the corner, ready to paint what he wanted and get the hell out of here.
I twisted my hair together and tossed it over my shoulder to get it out of my face before taking in a deep breath. As I exhaled it slowly, I checked out the area Damon had set up. The easel was made of quality, sturdy wood, and the supplies he’d gathered were things that had been on my wishlist for years.
He’d spent a fortune.
I shifted my gaze to the blank canvas in front of me. It was pristine, moderately sized, and of excellent quality. It wasn’t a cheap canvas from a box store like the ones I typically bought. My fingertips brushed the handles of the various paintbrushes next. I chose one instinctively and held it up to feel its weight and brush its coarse bristles against my palm.
Consumed (Gem Creek Bears Book 7) Page 6