Wild Love (Wilding Pack Wolves 2) - New Adult Paranormal Romance
Page 13
“You’re insane,” she spat at him. “WildLove brought people together, consenting adults. It was all about love, not hate. Not like you.”
He chuckled darkly. “WildLove was about depraved sexual acts, nothing more. By making it easy for shifters to prey on human weakness, you’re guilty of crimes against humankind. And now you’re going to pay for it.”
He was speaking to the audience on the video he was recording.
“And livestreaming my death isn’t depraved?” She shoved all her loathing into one, intense glare.
The bomber edged forward, careful not to block the camera’s view of her strung up on the bed. “Not livestream. Delayed broadcast. It’s caching with a delay, but don’t worry, it’ll broadcast as soon as we’re done here.”
Sourness climbed the back of her throat. “You won’t get away with this.”
He laughed again, then strode to the front of the bed, standing next to her and staring down through the small eyeholes of his mask. He grabbed hold of her chin, tipping it up so she was forced to look at him. “You’ll pay for your crimes, but first we’re going to have a little fun, Emily. A little lesson to those human women who think they want to share a bed with a shifter.” Then he released her chin to caress her cheek.
She wrenched her face away, but her heart was about to pound out of her chest, which was heaving again in a desperate attempt to get air. No, no, no… he was going to… she flashed back to her uncle, five years ago, grunting and sweating on top of her, forcing her legs apart, hurting her… The idea of enduring that again before the bomber finally blew her up, all before an audience…
Her stomach heaved again, but it nothing came up. She willed herself to get sick all over him and the bed, but her whole body was locking down, closing up, folding in on itself.
The bomber grabbed her cheek and forced her to look his way, but her eyes were already glazed over. Her mind was fleeing, seeking escape, running from this reality. There was nothing left but pain and horror here.
She barely felt his hands on her hair, her body, tugging at her clothes.
The sound his zipper made when he lowered it only registered as a distant grating.
There were other sounds, but she ignored them. Her eyes were already closed. Her mind was already gone. She would die soon. She knew this. And as her mind went far, far away, she had only a single, solitary thought that went with her:
She should have jumped from the car.
Noah was going out of his mind.
Owen and Daniel were scouring the security tapes, the rest of the pack was waiting around, getting twitchier by the moment, but Noah was genuinely losing his sanity. Images of Emily, bleeding out on a tacky linoleum floor, kept popping into his head and blocking out every other sight, sound, or thought. Only he knew it wasn’t her… it was his mother, wrists slit and life ebbing out into the puddle of broken glass and whiskey on the floor next to her. A full-color image from his childhood was haunting him… all because he was standing around the WildLove office complex, unable to do a damn thing about finding Emily, much less save her.
Noah blinked away the image. Focus.
He checked his WildLove app for the hundredth time, but there were no more messages. Just as he was putting away his phone, another notification popped up.
Emily.
He jabbed at the notice before it could disappear, and her full message appeared. It was only two words, but they slammed into his heart.
“She’s at the Cassidy Motel!” he shouted.
The room stilled.
“What do you have?” Daniel asked from his spot next to the security monitors.
“Emily texted me her location!” Noah yelled, already halfway to the door. He sprinted out of the security office and bypassed the elevator to stampede down the two flights to the parking garage. His car was still illegally parked in front of the elevators. He was in the driver’s seat and ready to tear out of the garage, having no clue where the Cassidy Motel even was, when Daniel and Owen spilled out of the stairwell and ran for his car. Noah forced himself to wait the two seconds it would take for them to reach it.
“Go!” Owen said as soon as they were in.
Noah slammed the car into drive. “I need directions!”
“On it,” Daniel said, riding shotgun and whipping out his phone.
As Daniel directed him out of the parking garage, Noah spoke over him. “How far?” he demanded.
“About ten minutes cross-town,” Daniel said, voice taut. “It’s a shitty little place at the edge of town.”
His mind was just now catching up to where they were going. “Holy shit, it’s a motel. Why would he take her there?”
Daniel and Owen exchanged a look but said nothing.
“Fuck!” Noah slammed his hand against the steering wheel. He knew as well as they did that no matter what it was, it was bad. The bomber could kill her there and be long gone before anyone found her. “I am not letting him kill her.” Not again. Not like before. His mind was snarled up so badly in this. His heart was pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears, a steady drumbeat of rage that had been pounding through him ever since he’d been a child.
“Right at the light,” Daniel said, holding the dash as Noah blew through the red light and took the turn at top speed.
The car was silent after that except for Daniel calling out directions and the car tires screeching around corners. Each heartbeat felt like it was pulsing louder in Noah’s ears, and it seemed as if they would never reach the motel, but long minutes later, he careened into the parking lot. Owen had to hold him back from strangling the attendant at the front desk when he balked at giving out the room number, but the murderous look in Noah’s eyes must have convinced him.
Noah didn’t wait for the room key, just took off for his car once he had the number and sped around to the back of the motel. There was a single car parked at the end, outside the door of the room. As soon as he was out of his own car, Noah had his claws out, ready to shred the door. He was tearing into it, maniacally, before Owen and Daniel even reached him. Daniel pulled him back, and Noah almost swung and cut him, but he checked his swing at the last moment, just as Owen kicked the door in.
All three of them rushed the door… then froze.
A man in a mask cowered next to Emily—she was tied to a bed, surrounded by explosives.
“Stay back!” the man screamed. “Or I’ll blow us all!” He held a box to Emily’s chest, a gray brick of something with a silver-box detonator, just like the one strapped to the computers at WildLove. The man was using her body and the bed as cover. Identical explosives were bound to the posts by Emily’s hands.
She wasn’t moving.
Her pants were down to her ankles, but her panties were still in place. That fact sent rage coursing through Noah, but seeing that her eyes were still closed spiked him with terror. She was utterly motionless, even with the bomber shouting at her side, almost like she was already…
“Is she alive?” Noah’s mouth tasted of ash as the words left it. Because if the bomber had already killed her, Noah would simply call the man’s bluff and shred him to pieces.
Before the bomber could respond, Emily answered his question by blinking open her beautiful eyes and peering at him. It was almost like she didn’t think he was real, or maybe she couldn’t really see him, crowding the doorway with Owen and Daniel at his back.
“If you want her to stay alive, shifter,” the man spat at him, “back the fuck out of here!”
There was no way that was happening. Emily was alive… and Noah wasn’t leaving without her.
“Are you all right?” he asked her. His throat was still stinging with the bitter taste of fear—fear that he had lost her, that he’d been too late—but it was fading fast under his determination to get her free.
She frowned at him. “Noah?” Then she blinked rapidly, and her voice hiked up. “Noah, the door and the window, they’re rigged. Explosives. Don’t come any closer!”
/> There was no way that was happening, either. But Noah couldn’t see a way out of this stalemate. If he lunged for the bomber, he might trigger the detonator he had pressed against Emily’s chest… and Noah couldn’t take that risk. Even in his wolf form, he couldn’t move fast enough.
Daniel pressed a gun flat against Noah’s back, reminding him that they were armed. Noah waved him back. The bomber was too close to Emily—there was far more of her body to hit than his. They weren’t exactly far away, and Noah was a decent shot, but still… he might miss.
“Use what you know,” Owen said out of the corner of his mouth.
Noah frowned and glanced at him. What was he talking about?
“No one deserves it more,” Owen said, holding his gaze.
Suddenly, Noah knew exactly what he meant. He quickly held his hands up.
“I’m unarmed,” Noah said to the bomber, taking a half-step into the room.
The man twitched, his eyes wide. “Stay back!”
“I’ll make a trade,” Noah said, edging slightly closer. He had no idea if this would work. He’d only done it once. “Me for the girl.”
“Noah, no!” Emily gasped.
Noah kept his eyes glued to the bomber. Then he reached for the man, but not physically. This reach was magical… that same energy that was coiled inside him, writhing and angry, like his wolf only stronger.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t want you. I want safe passage out of here!” He nodded to where Owen and Daniel still crowded the door.
“You want out. I want the girl. We make a trade.” Noah edged forward as he spoke, hands still out. He didn’t know how close he had to be. In Afghanistan, the whole thing was over in an instant. This was the first time he’d even tried to reach out as he had before, intuitively…
“Clear those guys out!” the man waved jerkily at the door, panic showing in the whites of his eyes behind the mask.
Noah waved Daniel and Owen back as well. His brother frowned like Noah was crazy, but Owen tugged Daniel back from the threshold. Noah edged even further into the room, and suddenly he could feel the man’s presence—an energy, like a malevolent storm, that called to his inner beast.
His inner witch.
“You.” Noah raised his arm to point at the man. “Need to die.”
Even under the mask, Noah could see the man’s eyes go wide. Then a crackling streak of blue energy leaped from Noah’s outstretched finger, formed an arc across the air, and nailed the man straight through the forehead. The sound of it split the air like lightning, and Emily shrieked. But an instant later, the man was gone. Noah didn’t have to look… he could feel the bomber’s energy dissipate, and he knew the man, his mask, and all his vile intentions had been reduced to ash.
In an instant, Noah leaped across the room to the bed. Emily was frozen, terrified, eyes wide and freaked out, but she didn’t recoil away from him. He lifted the bomb off her chest, then shifted a single finger into a razor sharp claw and slashed at the tape binding her. Once his blade was safely returned to the form of a gentle human hand, he scooped her up from the bed. She curled right into him, and he tucked her close… then he ran. He didn’t know if the explosives were rigged to blow by themselves, on a timer, or just on a switch, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He didn’t even bother with the car, he just kept running until he reached the end of the motel building and had Emily safely away from whatever blast might be triggered.
She was shaking all over, and when Noah set her down on her feet, he didn’t really let her go. He held her close, peering at her face, thrilled beyond measure that she was standing here, in his arms, all in one piece.
Her pants were still tangled around her legs.
He dropped to one knee and gently brought them up again, holding her close, protective even now, as she buttoned them with shaking fingers.
“Please tell me he didn’t hurt you,” Noah said, his voice soft.
She shook her head back and forth, a jittery motion, but definitely a no. “He was going to…” She swallowed and looked up at him. “He would have. If you hadn’t stopped him.”
Those words… Noah couldn’t speak with the emotion that was welling up in him. Maybe his grandfather was a witch. Maybe Noah was a witch, too, or at least some kind of hybrid. But if all he ever did with that power was what he did tonight—save Emily—then everything, every rejection by his family and his pack, every shame that would be coming his way, would be worth it.
Emily was looking over his shoulder, back at the motel room. “What you did back there…” She brought her wondering gaze back to him. “How did you do that?”
He grimaced. But it was all going to come out sooner or later. Mostly sooner, now that he’d revealed himself to not only Emily but his brother as well. “I’m not just a wolf, Emily.”
Her eyes went wide, but she just nodded. “You’re a white wolf.”
He huffed a small laugh. “Yeah. That’s part of it.”
The crunch of car tires rolled up behind him. Daniel and Owen had brought the car to them.
Noah turned back to her. His hands were still gently holding her up, but her shaking was starting to calm. He let her go. “Basically, I’m part witch, part wolf,” he said quickly, before his brother’s hard looks from inside the car coalesced into a determination to grill him on what had just happened. “I’ll explain it all to you later. Right now, how about we just get out of here?”
She nodded, dazedly. He turned, his hand on her elbow, not touching her too much, in case that wasn’t something she wanted anymore, given that she knew what he was now. He guided her toward the car. She stopped suddenly before getting in.
“Wait.” She turned her pretty blue eyes on him. “The WildLove database. He made me copy it for him, but I hid it under the front seat of the car. I was trying to fight him, but…” She seemed frustrated that somehow she hadn’t been able to thwart a shifter-hater and save legions of shifters all on her own. Even though she’d nearly done so.
He couldn’t help touching her cheek, gently, just once. “Of course, you did.” He looked to Owen, who had gotten out of the car soon enough to hear. “Owen?”
“On it,” he said, then turned to trot back to where the bomber’s car was parked.
“He was also recording the whole… the whole thing he had planned,” Emily said, her voice wavering and some of the shaking coming back.
Noah’s chest squeezed tight. “He recorded it?” Not only was the bastard planning to rape her, but he was filming it? Noah had an urgent need to kill him all over again.
Emily nodded fervently. “On the laptop. Delayed broadcast. Noah…” She grabbed his arm. “It probably recorded what you did.”
He just stared at her for a moment, amazed: she was worried about him.
Noah turned to where Owen’s form was just about to disappear into the motel room. “Owen!” he called. “Grab that laptop!”
Owen waved and went inside.
Noah turned back to her and smiled. “You just saved me a whole lot of trouble.”
She frowned. “I’m pretty sure I caused you more than enough trouble before that.”
He just shook his head. And he couldn’t resist bringing her in for a hug, not least because she still had some tremble in her.
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you in one piece,” he whispered into her hair. Then he forced himself to let her go. He gestured to the car. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
She nodded and climbed into the back seat of his car.
Noah ignored his brother’s steely-eyed looks and climbed in after her.
There would be time for all the explanations later.
Emily had never eaten so much in her life.
“Here, take another pancake.” That was Mama River, the matriarch of the River pack family, pushing yet another fluffy, buttermilk slice of heaven on her. She’d already had five.
“They’re amazing, Mrs. River, seriously,” Emily said. “Best pancakes I�
��ve ever had. But I think I might burst.”
The graceful smile on Mama River’s face was more satisfaction than flattered by her compliment.
Noah hurried into the room and cased the situation with a quick look. “Mama River, what are you doing?” He looked very concerned.
Mama River wasn’t his mother, but she apparently hovered over everyone at the River pack safehouse like they were her adopted children. She gave Noah a chiding scowl. “Trying to make sure this girl is properly fed.”
Noah scowled right back. “I just asked you to watch over her for a minute, not force feed her.” He had disappeared to “take care of something” for about ten minutes, but other than that brief absence, he had stuck fast by Emily’s side every minute of the last couple hours. After he had plucked her from a horrible fate at the hands of the bomber, they had quickly left the motel and driven up into the beautiful mountains outside Seattle, finally ending up here, at the River family estate. The shock from the traumatic events of the morning was starting to wear off, only to be replaced with the shock of being in a sprawling ranch filled with shifters. They were mostly men, and all outrageously gorgeous. It befuddled her senses, being surrounded by so many insanely hot wolves, especially famous ones she’d only previously read about in the papers. And now she was stuffed with pancakes and easy acceptance from Mama River as well.
The past twenty-four hours were easily the worst and best of Emily’s life.
“Have you actually looked at this girl?” Mama River protested, her ire seeming to rise with Noah’s objections. “She’s as white as a ghost and probably still in shock. She needs a proper feeding.”
Emily held up a hand to stop them. She didn’t want to be the source of any trouble. “Mama River’s right. I needed it.” Emily made a show of rising up from the table. “But any more, and you’re going to have to carry me home, Noah.”
The expression on his face wasn’t quite a smile—more like a mischievous hunger—and it sent a thrill through her. She’d caught him looking at her like that ever since he’d rescued her from the bomber, and every time it reminded her of the passion they’d shared just the night before. It sent heat coursing to her lady parts, which were aching for more of him. But that had to be over now… right? Even with everything that had happened, he was still… magical. Even if she wasn’t sure exactly what flavor of magic Noah possessed anymore.