by Lori Drake
“I’m serious, Joey. All of that, that’s just… Wow.”
Joey grimaced. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m”—she floundered for the right words—“some sort of superwoman, I guess. I don’t belong on a pedestal.”
A smile slowly came over him. “We might have to disagree about that.”
Joey’s instincts told her to back away, but the desk was behind her, blocking her retreat. Her chest tightened, and the next breath she drew in was difficult. The scent of his spicy cologne filled her nostrils, only adding to the sense of being cornered. Trapped.
“Lucas…” She closed her eyes in an effort to get a grip on herself. It was the wrong move, because before she could get any further, his mouth was on hers.
Shock delayed her reaction to the kiss. His hands slid into her hair, lips crushing hers. She stood there stupidly for a moment with her heart beating wildly in her chest. It wasn’t excitement or pleasure, that was for sure. Rather, it was more like the rapid pulse of cornered prey.
A soft squeak—almost too faint for her keen ears to detect—spurred her into motion, and she pushed Lucas firmly away. Behind him, Jenny stood in the open doorway, her brown eyes as round as saucers.
“Oops,” Lucas said. The smile on his face bordered on smug.
Joey shot him a murderous look and took a step toward the door, anxious to explain. “Jenny—”
The young wolf vanished with supernatural alacrity before Joey could get anything else out.
“Fuck!” Joey growled, and set her mug down on the desk before she snapped the handle off.
“Well, I’m not opposed to the idea, but…”
Joey’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, though the smile on his face told another story entirely.
“You had no right to do that. You know I’m with Chris.” She jabbed him in the chest with a fingertip for emphasis. Twice.
He snorted, catching her hand. “Please. A woman like you deserves more than he has to offer.”
“You barely know him. Hell, you barely know me. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be making that sort of— What the hell are you doing?”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. She slapped him with her other hand. Or she tried. He caught her wrist easily, like he knew she’d try it, and smiled as he met her eyes. “Such passion. I’ve always had a weakness for redheads.”
Joey jerked against his restraining hand but failed to break free from his steely grip. She stepped closer and held his eyes. Her wolf surged to the surface in challenge, charging the air between them with alpha dominance. He didn’t even flinch, just held her gaze and leaned closer. She had a split second to decide if she wanted to hold her ground and risk him trying to kiss her again or lean away and risk it being interpreted as submission.
She leaned back, but refused to lower her eyes. Chris and Sam were right. There was something dangerous about Lucas, and it wasn’t just that he didn’t know how to take no for an answer. His wolf was powerful, among the most powerful she’d ever encountered, though he’d hidden it well until that point.
“You have five seconds to take your hands off me and back off.”
He smiled. “Or?”
“Five… four…”
“You know I’m right, Joey. With me at your side, the elders wouldn’t dare challenge you.”
“Three…”
“I can give you the one thing that he can’t.”
“Two…”
“Legitimacy.” He released her wrist and stepped back, a cocky smile on his lips.
Joey itched to smack that smile away, but it hadn’t worked the first time. She suspected it wouldn’t happen if she tried again, either. “You’re delusional. I’m not going to trade the love of my life for anyone’s approval. Certainly not with the likes of you.”
His smile faltered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
It was Joey’s turn to advance. She stepped forward until their chests were almost pressed together, but there was nothing romantic about it. “Pedigree or no, you’re a brute. You couldn’t get what you want through charm, so you thought you’d try to bend my will with your own? I’ll never submit to you.”
Lucas’s eyes darkened, but his smile returned. “We’ll see about that.”
He turned on his heel and walked away. Joey stood rooted to the spot until he was gone, then sagged against her desk and tucked her shaking, icy hands under her arms. She needed to go find Jenny, but first she took the time to compose herself. Her phone rang while she was still working on it. It was Jessica, who’d gone with the caravan headed to the airport.
Joey answered. “Hey, Jess. What’s up?”
“We’ve got a situation.”
“What kind of situation?”
“Active shooter.”
Joey’s blood ran cold, all thoughts of the situation with Lucas fleeing her mind. Her fingers tightened on the phone as she strode for the door. “Tell me what you need.”
Chris belly-crawled his way out of the car with walkie-talkie in hand to crouch beside Colt again. Another round hit the car somewhere, and Chris flinched.
“We’re completely pinned down,” Chris reported. “The tires are blocked and the car’s up on a jack. We can’t get over to that side of the car without risking getting shot.”
“Then you’re going to have to make a run for it,” Sam said.
“A run for where?” Chris asked, glancing at Colt as he pushed up the cuff of his blue jeans and retrieved a small pistol from his boot holster. Chris’s wolf paced restlessly beneath his human skin, unaccustomed to being cornered like prey.
“Justin,” Sam said. “Have your passengers get out and move up to Jessica’s car. Make sure they exit on the driver’s side. Use the car for cover.”
“Roger.”
Chris traded places with Colt and opened the back door of Jon’s car. The way they were going through cars these days, they needed to start buying cheaper ones. “Time to go, you two. Keep your heads down, okay?”
Mason eyed him like Chris had lost his mind, but crawled out of the car and duck-walked around the open door to crouch at the front end. Chris was momentarily grateful that he’d gotten two of the relatively fit guests in his car. Virginia, however, remained frozen in place on the floor between the seats, covering her head with shaking arms.
“Your turn, Virginia. Come on, you can do this,” Chris said.
“I can’t, I just— I can’t!” Her words were punctuated by a crack and thud as another rifle round punched through the back window and embedded itself somewhere in the front of the car. She whimpered and tried to make herself even smaller.
Chris groaned inwardly, but climbed half into the back seat of the car, keeping his head low. His pulse raced. Another shot could come at any time, and while the back seat had been safe so far, he couldn’t be sure it would be for much longer. He stretched an arm out and put his hand on Virginia’s arm.
“Look at me, Virginia,” he said, putting a hint of a command in it.
Virginia hesitated, but lifted her head and peeked out at him beneath her arms. Her eyes were bloodshot, tracks of mascara running down her too-pale cheeks.
He met her gaze, doing his best to tamp down his own fear and panic. “Listen to me. This side of the car is safe. The shooter is on the other side, okay?”
Her lower lip quivered, and her gaze flickered over his face before returning to his eyes. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Think of it this way… there’s twice as much metal between you and the shooter out here.”
That got her moving. She scrambled forward, and once she was in reach, he grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the car to join the rest of them. “Good girl.” He wrapped an arm around her and held her against his chest as she dissolved into tears.
The radio crackled to life again as S
am said, “Chris?”
Chris had been only vaguely aware of additional chatter on the radio while he coaxed his charges from the car. Colt passed the radio back to him, and he lifted it to his lips. “Yeah, just about. Everyone’s out. You ready for us?”
“Yes and no. Justin’s only got room for three, and it’s gonna be cozy.”
Virginia whimpered, and Chris swallowed a curse, not wanting to further terrify her. “You can’t shuffle anyone else around?” he asked.
“It’s the best we can do with what we’ve got. There’s a gas station a few miles down the road. We’ll stop there, drop someone off, and circle back.”
Colt leaned around the still-open passenger door. “I’ll stay.”
“No,” Chris said. It was pure reflex, but he had no desire to take the word back afterward. There was no way he was leaving a member of his pack behind. But it helped that he had a logical reason for it. “No offense, bud, but you’re smaller than me. Get them to safety. I’ll wait here.”
“Yessir,” Colt said, his unusually pronounced drawl betraying his worry. “Ma’am, you’re gonna want to take off those heels.”
Chris passed Virginia off to Colt, who pressed his pistol into Chris’s hand. The little thing was heavier than he expected and felt strange in his grip. Though his family owned plenty of guns, he’d never actually fired one before. He didn’t tell Colt that. It didn’t look very complicated.
“Okay, we’re ready,” Chris radioed, leaning over to peer around the others in the direction of the vehicles stopped on the side of the road a good quarter mile away. The reverse lights on the back of Justin’s car lit up, and the vehicle backed up swiftly. So swiftly, in fact, that Chris wasn’t sure it would stop before it hit the front of Jon’s Jag. Wouldn’t that just be icing on the cake? But no, the brake lights flashed and the car screeched to a halt just in time.
“Go!” Chris shouted.
He didn’t have to tell them twice. Mason, Virginia, and Colt sprinted for the car, ducking down and trying to remain behind cover. It almost worked, too. The rifle cracked again, and Colt staggered, a blossom of red appearing on his back.
Chris was in motion before Colt’s knees hit the ground, forgetting all about the potential for exposure as he crossed the distance with supernatural speed and caught Colt. He levered his packmate into the back of the car and slammed the door shut. Once everyone was on board, Justin punched the gas. The rear tires spun before getting traction, and the car lurched forward. Chris barely managed to make it back to the “safety” of the Jag before he ended up out in the open and exposed. But he tripped and went down on the way, sprawling across the damp pavement and losing his grip on the gun in the process. Pain flared along his arms and hand where he caught himself, followed by the sting of blood welling in the resulting scrapes and scratches.
He scanned the ground for the pistol and found it under the car. Ignoring his seeping wounds, he belly-crawled half under the car to reach the gun. He was working his way back out when a car pulled up alongside his and stopped. Heart in his throat, Chris retreated, crawling the other direction until he was fully underneath the car. He gripped the gun tightly and considered his options. If it was the hunter, he was fucked. He could try to escape on the other side of the car, but there was no guarantee that he’d manage to escape into the woods if he made it. The guy had a gun, after all.
“Chris!”
Chris’s head went up automatically and he winced as he banged it on the car’s undercarriage. Someone was calling his name, but he didn’t recognize the voice. He shook off the stars dancing in front of his eyes, but remained where he was.
“Get your ass out here and get in the damn car already! I’m not gonna wait all day.”
Wait, there was something familiar about that gruff voice after all. It tickled the back of Chris’s memory, but no… it couldn’t be. Could it? He hesitated a few more seconds, then crawled to the edge of the car to peer at the car idling beside it. It was a fairly nondescript sedan, facing the wrong way to be on his side of the road. A familiar head leaned out the window.
“Detective Harding?”
“Light a fire under it, kid,” the detective growled. “Before your family has to put you in the ground for real this time.”
Chris scrambled out from under the car and climbed into the back seat of Harding’s sedan. No sooner had the door closed than they peeled out. Chris was thrown back against the seat and slid halfway across the car as Harding whipped the car around. Chris pushed himself upright, still a bit dazed from the unexpected appearance of the detective that had worked his murder case back in San Diego.
Chris pushed himself up into a sitting position as the car sped away. “How the— What are you doing here?”
Harding adjusted the rearview mirror so he could see Chris more easily and smirked. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” Chris said, wincing. “But the question stands. Wait.” He looked around the car, frowning to himself. Now that the immediacy of the situation had faded somewhat, he realized the car itself was familiar. “You were the one following us earlier.”
“Can’t slip anything past you, can I?” Harding said mildly. “You okay?”
Chris frowned and took quick stock of his injuries, but other than a few minor scrapes and scratches, he was fine. “Don’t change the subject. Why were you following me?”
“Who says I was following you? Maybe I was following your buddy.”
“That’d be an awfully big coincidence. Come on, be straight with me.”
Harding didn’t answer right away, just watched the road as he drove. “No offense, kid, but I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.”
The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable, but Chris wasn’t sure where it came from. He decided to try a different tack. “Why are you in Seattle?”
“I live here. After that little stunt you pulled, I damn near got reassigned to traffic duty. I ended up with six weeks’ suspension while IA investigated. I was lucky. The ME got fired.”
Chris shifted his focus out the window, guilt a bitter tang on his tongue. Covering up the fact that he’d crawled out of his grave hadn’t been easy, and he’d never stopped to think about what the consequences of it might be to the human authorities that’d worked his case. He didn’t know what to say. “That’s rough, man. I’m sorry.” It wasn’t until the words were out that he realized it wasn’t really his fault. Or, at least, Harding didn’t know that. Did he? “But it doesn’t explain why you moved to Seattle.”
“Decided it was time for a change of scenery. The SPD had an opening on their cold-case team, so I took the plunge. What about you? Why did you move to Seattle?”
The question caused a brief spike in Chris’s heart rate, but he kept his eyes out the window on the landscape sliding by. “Same as you, I guess. Change of scenery.”
“What a coincidence.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in Harding’s voice. “So, you gonna tell me why someone’s trying to kill you?”
“It’s best you don’t get involved.”
“Bit late for that, kid.”
Chris turned his arm over, rubbing his thumb along a smear of blood, beneath which the skin had already healed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
12
“What do you mean, ‘he’s gone’?” Joey growled into the phone. Terror gripped her heart, but she couldn’t admit to Sam how afraid she was, so she’d have to settle for yelling at him. “Why the fuck did you leave him behind to start with? Are you out of your mind?”
“There wasn’t enough room,” Sam said, calm and measured. “He made the call, Joey. He knew what he was doing. We need to get these folks to the airport, but we can stop and search properly on the way back.”
Yeah, fuck that.
“I’ll handle the search party. Just get those guests safely away and get your ass back to the house.” She hung up without waiting for a response and resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room—a room that suddenly felt too small. Ch
est tight and eyes stinging, she paused to take a deep breath and get a grip on herself. Just because Chris was missing didn’t mean the hunter had gotten to him. She repeated that to herself a few times in an effort to make herself believe it, then chided herself.
Chris is strong. Don’t underestimate him.
Standing, she put her game face on and went downstairs to see who she could round up for a search party. Ben, Justin, Colt, Jessica, Ash, and Raven were with Sam, and the twins were off trying to obtain hotel security footage, leaving only Jon, Sara, Jenny, and Itsuo at her disposal. There was no way Sara was going anywhere, and Joey doubted Itsuo would want Jenny to go either.
Jenny. Joey cursed inwardly. She still needed to talk to the submissive young wolf about the whole Lucas thing. It could wait. It’d have to wait.
Once Jon and Itsuo agreed to go on the search party, Joey began hunting down able-bodied guests who might be willing to lend a hand. No one was particularly enthusiastic about going out in the woods where a hunter might still be lurking with a rifle that may or may not be loaded with silver bullets. It wasn’t like Joey had a cache of body armor either, but the lingering remnants of the Gray River pack volunteered immediately. It wasn’t until Lucas volunteered to go that a few more of the guests came forward, a fact that made Joey a bit twitchy after what’d gone down between them in her office. He talked a lot about duty, but something in his eyes made Joey think that he wouldn’t be disappointed if all they found in the woods was Chris’s remains.
They raided the family gun collection—which was impressive, considering they’d lived in California for so many years—to arm those who’d be going in human form and were out the door in less than half an hour. Still, every minute they spent in preparation was a minute longer than Joey would have liked. The pickings for vehicles were slim, but Abby and her remaining girls could ride their bikes. Everyone else would fit in Sam’s truck, one way or another. A few had already shifted, so they jumped into the back without hesitation.