A sharp tug on her hair, and he was gone.
Gina looked up, attempting a scowl. Megan just burst into peals of laughter, tears streaming down her face. Eyes still bright, she grinned at Gina. "Tell me he's exaggerating about the 'legendary' status?" she demanded.
Gina shook her head, a slow smile curving her lips. "Nope. No exaggeration at all."
* * * *
Another totally dull Saturday night was looming on the horizon. After running into Nate in town this morning—surely that couldn't have been a coincidence?—Gina had half-expected him to call. But he hadn't, and now she was sitting around at home with nothing much to do.
She glanced around the cozy living room, half wishing more housework would materialize out of thin air, but it was as perfectly neat and tidy as it had been two minutes earlier. What else could she do to fill in the evening? It was way too early for bed, and the thought of settling down to watch a movie was beyond her. Unusually for her, she was filled with nervous energy. What on earth had he done to the quiet, boring Gina Longmire who'd been perfectly content with her quiet, boring life? Just one night, and he seemed to have banished her forever: leaving behind this sexually frustrated creature who hadn't even been able to sit still long enough to watch a rerun of 'Friends'.
The linen cupboard. Perhaps she could sort through that? Gina was clutching at straws, and she knew it. Maybe she could rearrange her bookshelves then?
She shook her head, a small part of herself finding it totally hilarious that the safe persona she'd erected to protect herself from her own emotions had been so easily shattered. Surely there had to be something she could do to take her mind off sex and, more specifically, to take her mind off Nathaniel Moore— local realtor and sex god.
That did it! Sex god? Huh!
Her mind—and other parts of her body too, she acknowledged ruefully—were running out of control. It was past time to find something to fill in the hours to bedtime.
She drifted listlessly through the house, cataloguing possible chores and trying very hard not to wonder what Nate was doing right now. Or who he was doing it with. She found it very hard to believe that a man with such a huge sex drive didn't have a Saturday night date. Surely, he had to be in demand.
In the kitchen she straightened the pot plants and tweaked the curtains closer together. This morning's hint of spring had well and truly disappeared and there was ice in the air. Even through the fogged glass she could feel the insidious cold, seeping through every chink in the old window frame. There'd be a heavy frost in the morning. She shivered, her lightweight wrap no longer holding off the chill despite the centrally heated warmth of the house.
Enough was enough. She'd go to bed and read a book. As she turned back towards the hall, a flash of white by the back door caught her attention. She'd forgotten to take the trash out. For a second she hesitated—surely it could wait until morning? But, no. If she left it, despite the cold weather, it'd be sure to attract mice, and it had taken her weeks to get rid of them when she first moved in.
Shivering before she'd even opened the door, she drew her wrap closer with one hand, the fingers of the other securely entwined in the knotted top of the plastic garbage bag.
And she'd thought it was cold when she'd been standing by the window inside. Sheesh. She should have known better and grabbed an overcoat rather than just ducking outside to dump the trash in the bin by the side wall. Even through the solid soles of her fluffy slippers, she could feel the chill of the partly frozen ground. The cold snap was going to be worse than she'd thought.
A light mist was wending its way through the trees, stray tendrils floating around her ankles, but it hadn't fully thickened yet. Gina stopped for a second, fascinated by the way it billowed out towards her, eddies of wind she couldn't even feel shifting it into amazing patterns—there for an instant, then gone again. It was quite beautiful, yet eerie too, and it didn't take much imagination to see werewolves and vampires, monsters and fairies, as the fog suddenly swirled around her, enveloping her in a clammy white world.
She shivered again, her cold feet reminding her it was winter and that she was outside wearing nothing more than a light wrap over her nightgown. The bin was only two steps away; she could cope with the aching cold for a few seconds more.
The bin lid was in her hand, the bag lifted half way, when a sharp crack, totally out of place in the softness of the mist, caught her attention. For a second her breath hitched, then she relaxed as she realized it was the snap of a tree branch, nothing more. In this fog, it wouldn't be surprising to find more than one little creature's senses not quite as accurate as usual. It was probably an owl, she reasoned even as she tried to force her numb fingers to move more quickly.
A surge of movement in the fog behind her caught her attention and she swung to meet it, wryly aware that she was being much jumpier than usual. There were no bears in the area, she reminded herself sternly, and there was no such thing as werewolves. Anything smaller couldn't hurt her. Therefore, there was nothing to be afraid of.
Nothing but humans, she realized as disembodied arms reached from the fog, grasping her wrist. The rest of his body was shrouded by mist, almost invisible, but the strength in his grip was very real, as was the way he was drawing her inexorably closer.
She tugged sharply and tried to spin away, her mouth opening on a scream. A thudding blow to her stomach had her doubled over, gasping for breath before she'd managed to make a sound, and she'd barely straightened to meet the new threat when her vision went dark. There were soft voices, unrecognizable, but still she struggled. From a distance, almost like it was happening to someone else, she felt the pain in her temple and saw the bright colors flash behind her eyes. Then nothing.
Chapter Ten
Nate hadn't really planned on going out that night. The forest would be crowded with betas, especially in the more easily accessed areas, and it really was bloody cold. Even with a thick fur coat, it wouldn't exactly be a comfortable evening out. But since the only alternative seemed to be staying home alone brooding about Gina for the rest of the night, he didn't really see that he had much choice.
He and Sebastian had shape-shifted early in the evening, but while Sebastian had stayed in the forest closer to the towns, Nate had loped off into the thickening fog. He liked it deeper within the forest, all the areas the humans rarely ventured into. Although his wolf ears picked up the cacophony of tiny sounds he'd never hear in human form, he still found it peaceful. And there wasn't anything more soothing to his soul than the sound of the wind sloughing through pine trees. It was such a distinctive sound— there was nothing else quite like it.
Something was different tonight, though. It wasn't anything obvious, more a feeling of disturbance. All the regular sounds of nightlife were there, the scuttlings of tiny creatures in the undergrowth, the hiss of air flowing under the wings of a swooping owl and, over everything, the breeze. He paused, his nose raised to scent the wind, and waited while his mind sorted through the different sensations.
Humans. They were close or, at least, they had been. The wind brought details to him; of where they'd been, what they'd been doing. He could sense their trails, fading now, but still bright enough to be clear. There was something wrong too.. Overriding it all had been the acrid orange stench of triumph, of adrenaline-laced sweat.
Cold wind ruffling under his fur brought his mind sharply back to the present and he padded a few paces into the lee of a clump of bushes, thinking furiously. Two men, both reeking of beer and sweat, and a woman. Fear radiated from the woman, saturating her too-familiar scent.
And pain. Always pain. The fear came and went, almost like she was only there part of the time. Odd. Ears pricked, he strained for any further information. A short lull in the wind had reduced the amount of information flowing towards him right when he desperately wanted every smallest detail.
A fresh gust carried the information that the men were gone, leaving the woman behind. In the forest? At least three miles
from the nearest habitation? He shook his head roughly, certain he was wrong. It was too long since he'd changed regularly, practicing the skills that should have come naturally. There was no way that Gina was out here by herself. There was absolutely nothing wrong.
He hesitated, then, ignoring his own admonitions, turned tail and ran. Nate streaked through the forest, for once heedless of the joy he found in his wolf shape and the way his muscles responded so effortlessly to his commands as he slewed around the occasional boulder, galloping headlong up the rise.
Within minutes his heart was pounding; not from the exertion, but from sheer fear. He could no longer fool himself. It was Gina—not just his over-fevered imagination—and she was in trouble. He could hear her heart rate fading with every beat, could almost feel her labored breathing.
For a second he paused, lifted his head and howled into the wind. If he was lucky, one of his family would be close enough to hear, but with the wind whipping his voice away from him… He repeated the call, relief flooding over him as he heard a faint, answering echo. Another ware had heard, and the cry would be passed from wolf to wolf until Sebastian knew of his need.
Nate raced onwards, leaping logs and streams, for once grateful for the fact he was both wolf and man. He glanced up at the stars that flashed between the foliage, laughing sardonically at himself even as he sent a vow whizzing upwards to whichever deity had decided to entangle his life so thoroughly with Gina's. Whatever it took, he'd do. Obviously, they were meant to be together and apparently he wasn't going to get any choice in the matter. If this kind of heartslamming fear was what he was going to feel every time she was in danger, how was he ever going to let her get far enough away from him to even cross the road by herself? He'd do whatever it took to save her.
Soulmate. It was a word he wasn't keen on, something his mother had told stories about when he and Sebastian were young. He hadn't really believed
in it. But now…
* * * *
Gina's head throbbed. Actually, most of her ached, but her head was the worst. Every time she tried to lift her head, to straighten her awkwardly bent neck, bolts of pain stabbed through her skull. At first she'd wondered about the strangled cry that had echoed nauseatingly around her every time she attempted to move but gradually she figured it out. The animallike whimpering was coming from herself.
After the third attempt to move, she gave up. It hurt too much.
Time passed slowly, fingers of cold gradually creeping under every last fold of her flimsy nightgown. She shivered, the uncontrollable movement sending new flares of pain into her head. And through it all, Gina drifted, only half aware that she was alone in the Oldham Forest. It could almost have been a dream if she weren't so cold.
As the minutes passed—or was it hours— consciousness crawled back. God, she was cold. There were pins and needles where her toes should have been. Slippers, she realised vaguely. She was sure she'd been wearing slippers.
Outside?
She slumped back against whatever it was that was holding her upright, wishing she could just lie down for a while. Warm covers would be nice, too. Maybe even a feather pillow, a luxury she hadn't indulged in for years.
Her eyes flicked open as a cramp started to swell in her shoulder. Impatient with herself—how hard could it be to lie down and stretch out, anyway—she twisted, trying to untwist the knot that was sending fresh pains up her neck to throb and echo around her head. What she wouldn't give for some Tylenol.
Damn it! Why wouldn't her arms move? She yanked irritably at whatever they were caught on, only to gasp in agony as the soft skin on her wrists shredded. There was something rough and unyielding behind her and, whatever it was, she couldn't move away from it.
When she concentrated, she could feel something digging into her chest and stomach, too. At least her skin hadn't been rubbed raw there, but still… A rope, maybe? The idea filtered its way through her jumbled thoughts. It didn't make sense.
Gina relaxed back, her eyes still closed, and tried to make her sluggish brain work properly. It was getting harder to breathe. The air was so cold that every breath felt like she was gasping in a lungful of tiny, sharp icicles.
She tried inhaling deeply, only to find herself coughing wildly. Shallow panting was more comfortable, but then she felt like she was hyperventilating. She couldn't win.
Suddenly, she realized what had been nagging at her for the past few minutes. Every breath was sweet, redolent with damp pine needles and rich, dark soil. There was no way her little back yard had ever smelt like that.
But it was getting harder to breathe, and her heart was thumping in her chest, every beat noticeable. Too lethargic to be bothered thinking, she collapsed back,
hanging limply against the rope that seemed to be holding her upright.
* * * *
Nate skidded to a halt, his heart still pounding, anger vying with his fear. In a small clearing—really just a turning circle at the end of a fire trail—Gina was slumped against a tree, thick ropes holding her upright. He couldn't see her face; her loose hair had fallen forward to hide her features, but he knew she was alive. His wolf's ears were still picking out the irregular rhythm of her heart. He could smell fresh blood and could see where blood from a slightly older wound had congealed in her hair
Within seconds he was bounding across the clearing, his nose pressed against her as he judged just how badly injured she was. She was cold. Too cold. Anything else would have to wait.
It was obvious someone had left her here on purpose, probably someone who at least knew about the existence of werewolves in the area, even if they didn't know very much about them. He was shaking his head in disgust, even as his limbs extended and his torso stretched back into human form. She'd been left as an old-fashioned sacrifice. He'd heard stories of some of the earliest pioneers leaving a sacrifice for the wares, but in this day and age?
Totally unaware of his nudity, Nate pressed his body close into Gina, sharing his warmth as he struggled to untie the ropes that held her standing upright against the tree. In other circumstances, he could see it would have been very erotic—a half naked woman tied to a tree and left for the pleasure of the werewolves. Just this particular were wasn't thinking thoughts about dinner, but about sex…
A shudder traveled through her, physically rocking him as he stood chest to chest with her, her slight figure dwarfed by his heavier frame. If nothing else, it reminded him that now was not the time to be letting his imagination run wild. Her nightgown was almost transparent in the moonlight, and delicious as she looked with every curve lovingly outlined by the clinging fabric, she had to be cold.
Even with the warmth of his body pressed against her, her nipples were hard little buds that teased at his senses—and at his self-control. He desperately wanted to bend down and take one into his mouth. It was no longer only the cold that was making him uncomfortable.
Hell, she was the very image of the naked sacrificial victim of his fantasies. Perhaps when it was summer, he could persuade her to come back here to play?
As if that was likely to happen after tonight's trauma. She was more likely to scream in fear than pleasure if he so much as suggested tying her down. He heard his own groan of disbelief echo round the clearing. He was an insensitive brute to even be thinking like he was at the moment, and he knew it.
Nate's jaw clenched at the effort it took to banish the images of her writhing under his tongue. Her pale skin would be translucent, checkered by shadows as the breeze riffled its way through the trees, her eyes would be closed in ecstasy, and all the time she'd be struggling fruitlessly against her bonds, helpless to
escape his marauding mouth and hands…
Where the hell was Sebastian? He couldn't keep Gina warm and untie her at the same time. And he certainly couldn't keep his way-too-vivid imagination under control while he was forced to stand here with his cock jammed between her legs, and her breath fluttering so softly against his neck. He could actually feel the life
flowing through her now, his heightened senses still able to hear the flow of blood in her veins and the painful gasping as she drew in air.
And Rafe and Rob, too. He definitely wanted them to show up soon. Still huddled as close to her unconscious body as possible, Nate lifted his head and howled at the moon. He needed them all, and he needed them now.
He'd accepted his fate, and he refused to lose her to whatever prick had decided to use her as live wolfbait. Do you hear me? He breathed the words into her ear, needing to tell her, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. "You're mine. And I'll not let you go."
Never.
Nate wrapped himself even more tightly around her, closed his eyes and did something he hadn't done for years. He prayed.
Chapter Eleven
Gina didn't bother opening her eyes, but snuggled closer to the warmth surrounding her. Nate. He was here after all. She felt her lips curve in a tiny, satisfied smile and tried to reach for her quilt. There was still a cool patch to one side where it had slipped from the bed.
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