When Ro reached him, he said, “I got the plates.”
“Did you scent him? He had to be a wolf. No way he jumped the car like that otherwise.” Coop pushed himself to a standing position.
Ro shook his head. “Too much exhaust.”
Coop swore. In the distance, the car swerved around a corner and disappeared. “Let’s call the police. You have your cell?”
Ro had already pulled his phone out and was dialing 911. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he said as he lifted the phone to his ear. A moment later, Coop heard a tinny voice come on the line, then Ro said, “My fiancée was just kidnapped.”
Coop’s gut clenched as Ro gave the dispatcher details including the plate number. A few seconds later, the operator confirmed that someone else had already called in, and that the police were en route. Ro told the woman where they’d last seen the car, and while she relayed the information, he and Coop headed back to the construction site to wait for the police.
Ro hung up the phone. “They’re sending a car down Queen Street to see if they can spot him. And another car is coming back to the site to talk to us.”
This wasn’t happening. Coop kept expecting to blink and realize it had all been some kind of waking nightmare, and that Bethany was safe and sound. “What the hell’s going on, Ro?”
“I don’t know. But I do know one thing. We’re going to get her back. If the police can help, great. If not—it doesn’t matter. We’re getting her back.”
“And the guy who took her is going to pay.”
***
Bethany felt like she was digging through layers of sleep to try to reach consciousness. Part of her wanted to sink back down into oblivion but she knew there was something wrong, some reason she needed to rouse herself, so she continued to push and struggle her way toward wakefulness.
When she finally dragged her eyes open, nothing looked familiar. Above her, white linen with frills and lace lay draped across wooden rods. It took her three blinks before she realized she was looking at a canopy. She’d never slept in a canopy bed in her life.
Pushing herself to her elbows shot flames of pain through her head. It took a few seconds of slow breathing to push the pain back. Then she took a look around. The linens on the bed were as frilly and white as the canopy. Worse, lace dripped from her wrists and revealed that she wore a lacy white nightgown.
What the hell was this?
The bed seemed higher than the rest of the room, which was all done up in shades of pink and white with copious amounts of lace. Bethany considered herself a feminine woman, but the amount of frills in the room made her want to hurl. Or maybe that was the pounding headache.
She didn’t see anyone else but that didn’t stop her from feeling an increasing panic rising in her throat. Where was she? How did she get here? Who had taken her clothes?
It took her a long time to work her way out of the bed. She felt weak and the headache truly had unsettled her stomach. Still, she knew she needed to find out what was happening. Was this some sort of hospital? Had her mates brought her here for some reason? There had to be an explanation. Hopefully it was something they could all laugh about later.
The first door she opened revealed a closet. The second, a bathroom. The third and last door had to lead to a hallway. But when she tried the knob, it wouldn’t turn.
Bethany tried again, then yanked at it, trying to get the door to open. The longer it resisted, the harder she tried. It had to open. It had to.
Finally, she stepped back, threading her fingers through her hair. She was locked inside.
She needed a phone. There had to be a phone, right? Most bedrooms had phones in them. She hurried across the room to look at the bedside table.
Empty.
Behind her, the door creaked open. Bethany swung around just as a tall slender man with dark hair stepped into the room.
“You’re awake.” His voice sounded like ashes.
“Who are you?” A tiny part of her still hoped she was in some sort of hospital, and that this was a doctor come to take care of her.
“I’m your new husband.”
The next moment stretched into an age, her breath stuck in her throat. Her mind couldn’t put his words together. She had mates. What would she need with this guy?
The man quietly closed the door behind him and turned a key in the lock. “I’ve been watching you a long time, Bethany.”
A shiver started in her fingers and traveled up her arms and through her body.
“That construction site is no place for a lady like you. It’s lucky I could take you away from there before something happened.” He moved toward her, rounded the end of the bed and stopped a foot away. “Now we can be together forever.” This close, the scent of wolf was unmistakable.
She slid her hands around her elbows, trying to stop the cold that raced through her. “I want to go home.” Her voice sounded raspy.
“You are home.” He reached out toward her face.
Bethany jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”
His face tightened, his dark eyes narrowing. “I’m your husband. Touching is natural between a man and his wife.”
She backed up until the bedside table hit the back of her thighs, then she sidestepped it and continued backward until stopped by the wall. Her brain felt numb. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
“Come now.” He reached toward her, palm up. “It’s time for me to claim you.”
She had mates. No one else could claim her. As a wolf, he should understand that. She opened her mouth to tell him about her mates but he slid his hand across her shoulder to brush against her throat.
Bethany doubled over, wretching, her last three meals ending up on his pant leg, his shoe, and the fluffy white rug.
The man bellowed. “Stop!”
Pain crashed through her head. As she fell to the floor, she realized he’d hit her.
“Look what you did! I’m going to get cleaned up and then I’ll come back. And you’d better behave.”
He was across the room and through the door before she could tell him she couldn’t. Mated wolves couldn’t be intimate with anyone else or they got violently ill.
But maybe she shouldn’t tell him. If he wanted so badly to claim her, what would he do to her when he found out he couldn’t?
Chapter 5
When the police got to the construction site, Coop realized they had to keep up the ruse Ro had started on the phone with the dispatcher. Humans didn’t understand triads. No way could Coop and Ro tell them Bethany belonged to them both. Instead, Coop gritted his teeth as Ro told the police officer he was Bethany’s fiancé and Coop was a friend.
Things went downhill from there. The officer suggested Bethany had gone with her abductor by choice, that she was stepping out on Ro. Coop had to hold him back with a hand on his chest.
“There were other witnesses,” Ro said. His tone sounded even, but Coop could see how tightly his jaw was clenched.
“Names,” the officer said.
Coop was reciting the names of their fellow workers—many of whom still stood around, watching—when a small bright blue car pulled up and a tiny woman in a long black trench coat emerged from the driver’s seat.
The police officer groaned when he saw her. “I’ve got things here, Flannigan,” he called.
As the woman walked toward them, Coop smelled the earthy scent of wolf. “I think this is related to my string of kidnappings.” Her nostrils flared. “These the witnesses?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you interviewed them?” she said.
“Just starting.” He tapped his pen against his notepad.
“I’ll take over. Go ahead and talk to the rest of our audience.”
The officer didn’t say anything, but as he walked away, he shot an angry glance in her direction.
Flannigan gazed at Coop. “He gone?” She didn’t look over her shoulder to see.
“Yeah.”
“So.
You know what I am, I know what you are.” Her eyes flicked to Ro. “You’re friends of the victim’s?”
“She’s ours,” Ro said in a low voice.
“Mated.” Flannigan crinkled her brow. “None of the others were mated.”
“It just happened yesterday,” Coop said. How could this be happening when they’d just found her?
“Ah. He must not have known. I’ve got a string of kidnappings, all pretty young wolves, all unmated. But I haven’t been able to find the guy. Not a thing. Usually the women are alone, no family in the area, and they disappear without a trace.”
“He’s a wolf,” Coop said. “He moved too fast to be human. But I couldn’t catch his scent.”
Her eyes glinted gold for a split second. “You saw him?” Without waiting for an answer she said, “A real, honest-to-God witness, I can’t believe it. Come down to the precinct. I want you to look through some mug shots.”
As they followed her toward her car, Coop said, “A lot of the other workers saw him too.”
“Garvey will interview them.” She opened the back of her car. “Get in.”
Coop wasn’t so sure he liked being ordered around, but if she could help him find Bethany, he’d put up with it. She seemed a hell of a lot more competent than the other officer. He scooted across the seat to give Ro room to slide inside.
An hour later, they sat in a small room in the precinct pouring over books full of pictures. Coop thought he’d go cross-eyed if he had to look at any more. Flannigan sauntered over. She walked like a werewolf, all rolling sinew and muscle; Coop wasn’t sure how her fellow cops didn’t notice. But then, humans thought werewolves were myths. They probably thought Flannigan was simply athletic.
“We got an address from the plates,” she said in a low voice. On their car ride over, she’d told them she’d let them know what was going on with the investigation as long as they kept their cool–even though she shouldn’t tell them a thing. “I sent some officers over there but the woman living at the address didn’t match the name on the car and didn’t seem to be related.”
“Dead end.” Ro’s shoulders slumped a little.
Coop wasn’t ready to give up. “There’s got to be something else we can do. What about her phone—can we track her GPS?”
“I’ve already got someone on it,” Flannigan said. “But her phone must be off. He can’t get a signal.”
“Shit,” Coop said.
“I thought she said she always kept that thing on.” Ro shoved his hands through his hair.
“Maybe her abductor turned it off,” Flannigan said. “He’s been smart so far. We’ve never been able to pick up GPS on any of the women’s cell phones, except the ones that were left behind.”
“What about CCTV?” Coop said.
“That area where you’re building is too new.” Flannigan stood. “No CCTV set up yet.” She rested her hand on the back of Ro’s chair. “We’re looking further into the name on the vehicle registration. If he’s used it elsewhere, maybe we can find something.”
“We have to do something.” Even Coop heard the growl in his voice.
“We are,” she said. Then softer, “We will.”
“What happens when he realizes she’s mated?” Ro said. “If he’s only been taking unmated females…”
“It doesn’t do us any good to speculate. Just keep looking through the mug shots. We’ll find something. Don’t lose heart.”
After she walked away, Coop said, “If they haven’t found something by tonight, my pack will go hunting.” Coop lived outside pack territory so he could be closer to work, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t close with his pack. “My Alpha won’t let this stand. I’m surprised Flannigan hasn’t had the wolves out hunting long before this.”
“She’s Lone. Can’t you smell it?” Ro said.
Coop cocked his head. “Females don’t usually go it alone.”
“Yeah. But she’s got bigger balls than most men I’ve known.”
Coop laughed shortly then leaned back over the binder of photos. “Let’s get back to it.”
***
The man paced in his living room, fighting the urge to punch something. She’d thrown up on him. On him.
None of his wives had ever done that. Most didn’t even fight. They realized quickly what kind of life he could offer them and acquiesced with his wishes. That was how it should be. For Bethany to defy him, and in such a blatant way, shook him.
He wanted to kill her.
And yet he didn’t. He reminded himself of all of the reasons he’d chosen Bethany in the first place, all of the reasons she was the perfect wife for him. Her sweetness, her innocence. If he killed her, he’d lose all of that.
Still. Maybe he’d been deceived. A woman as sweet and demur as he’d thought Bethany was would never have done anything so crass as to throw up on him. He gave in to his growing urge and threw a punch at the air.
He’d keep her, for now. But if she didn’t fall in line, she was gone.
The man bellowed for one of his wives. “Lillian!”
In less than a minute, his most competent wife cracked the door open and slipped into the room. “Yes, husband?” She kept her eyes on the floor.
“You know your place.”
“Yes, husband.” Her voice trembled.
The man caressed her cheek. “No fear, wife. You’ve been good.” He dropped his hand. “I want you to take care of my new bride. Take her food and help her clean herself up. Teach her how to be a dutiful wife.” If there was anyone who could do that, it was Lillian.
“Yes, husband.”
Bethany had better learn her lesson. Or else.
***
Once the new pain from being hit started to fade, Bethany stumbled into the little bathroom and cleaned herself up. Part of her couldn’t stand the idea that in getting clean she was following his orders. The rest of her couldn’t stand the idea of wallowing in her own filth for one second longer.
The rug was another thing, though. Should she clean it up? The smell alone was reason to do it. But oh, how much she didn’t want to do anything to make that man happy.
She’d left the bathroom and stood gazing at the vomit on the rug when the door opened again. Before she could dart for the bathroom to try to hide, she saw that her visitor was a woman.
“I brought some food,” the woman said, nostrils flaring. She put a tray down on the table inside the door, then carefully closed it behind her. “He said you’d need help cleaning up.”
“Who are you?” And would she help? Of course not. If this woman was doing her captor’s bidding, Bethany couldn’t trust her as far as she could throw her, no matter how badly she wanted to beg the woman to help her.
“I’m one of the other wives. Lillian. What’s your name?”
“Bethany. Does that mean he took you? Like he took me?”
Lillian’s hands shook. “Do what he tells you and he won’t hurt you. It took me a long time to learn that, but I know it now. Just do whatever he says.”
Bethany stepped closer to her. “I can’t. I’m mated. That’s why…” She motioned toward the rug.
“Mated? You can’t be. He never takes mated females.”
“It just happened. Yesterday. I found them yesterday.” Bethany couldn’t keep the shaking out of her voice. She wanted Coop and Ro to be there so badly she thought she’d die. She pulled the neckline of her frilly nightie to the side to reveal Coop’s mark, still healing on her shoulder. Whoever changed her clothes had to have seen her marks, but they must not have told her abductor about them.
Lillian came a step further into the room. “If you don’t submit to him, he’ll kill you. I’ve seen it.”
Bethany grabbed her hand. “I can’t submit. You know I can’t. I’ve gotta escape.”
“You can’t.” Lillian’s voice dropped. “And if he even hears us talking about it, he’ll punish us both.” She pulled her hand loose and went to the table where the tray sat. “You should eat. I’ll clean u
p the rug.”
Bethany had known she couldn’t trust the other woman to help her, but for a moment she’d had a ray of hope. She wasn’t willing to give that up. “I’ll help with the rug. It was my fault, after all.”
As they gathered damp wash cloths from the bathroom, Lillian said softly, “It wasn’t your fault. It was his. Everything’s his fault.”
Lillian might have told Bethany that she’d learned to submit, but she clearly had some fight left in her. And Bethany had to try to convince her, even if she failed in the end. “If I got free, I would lead the police back here,” she said softly. “You’d be free too.”
The two women knelt on the rug and began to clean it. “I’ve heard that before,” Lillian said. “No one ever escapes.”
“What choice do I have? I can’t submit to him, no matter how much I might want to.” She didn’t want to, but that didn’t need saying. “I’m physically incapable. So I’m dead. If I try to escape and I fail, I’ll still be dead. But there’s always the chance I might get away. Help me.” She said the last words so softly she wasn’t sure Lillian heard them.
The other woman grew still. “If you fail and he finds out I helped, he might kill me too.”
“Then we try to work it out so that he won’t know.” Bethany’s mind raced, thinking of ideas and discarding them just as quickly.
Lillian gazed at the door. “He’ll be coming again soon. If I let you out now, he’ll know it was me. But if I unlock the door after he visits you, he’ll think he was the one who forgot to lock it.”
“It’s still risky,” Bethany said.
“It is. But I can’t think of any better plan. When you get out, there are stairs toward the back.” Lillian pointed. “Go down, through the kitchen and then there’s a door to the outside. Don’t let anyone see you. Don’t trust any of the wives. They’re all like me—terrified. They’ll turn you in rather than risk his wrath.”
Bethany put her hand on Lillian’s. “Thank you. I’ll get away, I promise. I’ll bring help.”
Hunger Moon Page 3