Savage Love

by Riley Storm

  Lowwen yelped, and then crashed back into the wall, rebounding right into Lucien’s vicious haymaker. Teeth clacked together and shattered, and Lowwen went down in a heap, his jaw a mangled mess. Lucien jumped on him, grabbing the traitor by the collar and lifting his head from the floor.

  “You’re lucky I’m merciful,” he growled, then swiftly broke each and every one of Lowwen’s fingers. It wasn’t pleasant, and though the shifter had threatened Lucien’s mate, he didn’t revel in inflicting pain, but sometimes a lesson had to be taught. And right now he was teaching a very important one with hurried instructions.

  “Don’t you ever threaten my mate again,” he hissed, before delivering one last punch that sent Lowwen to sleep.

  Then he was off to the races, clothing tearing as his body moved unnaturally.

  I’m coming, Alison. Just hold on!

  13

  “Here you go, boy,” she said. “Sit.”

  Bergey promptly shoved his rear end onto the floor, stub tail still flicking from side to side. He always behaved when food was in the equation.

  “Good boy,” she said and gave him his dish, snatching her hand back lest the food-obsessed dog think she was part of the meal too.

  With the pup fed, she retreated to her living room, ignoring the blankets she’d tossed over the floor and the couch to hide the bloodstains. That was a mess she would deal with later. Right now, all Alison wanted was to try and relax and watch some TV. A rom-com sounded like the perfect ending to her evening, a reminder that there was still hope for her out there, and that his name wasn’t necessarily Lucien.

  Pushing him away was the best thing for both of them. It was her insecurities that prompted it, but now that he was gone, she had convinced herself it was the right course of action.

  It’ll be better this way.

  Alison had repeated that thought to herself a million times, knowing it wouldn’t be easy to be convinced. But it was true. This way, she could stay herself, in her job, living the life she was used to. The life that she had the way she liked. The life she’d grown comfortable with.

  The life you’re terrified of changing, you mean.

  Alison shook her head, snatching up the remote, determined to ignore her inner voice, at least for a few more hours. Things were back to the way they should be, and that was good, she repeated forcefully, drowning out the other things bouncing around her mind.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  Her head coming around so fast her necked cracked in several places, Alison stared at the front entry. It had to be Lucien. Who else would it be? It was nearly nine at night by now. Anyone going door to door was long gone, though thankfully they didn’t have any real issues with that in Plymouth Falls.

  Could he truly have solved all his complications already? Fighting back the spike of excitement that accompanied such a thought, Alison got up. The person knocked again.

  Taking a long moment, she straightened her clothes, adjusting her shirt and pants, then shook her hair out, running fingers through it briefly, so that she looked presentable. Was there time to run to the washroom and—no. Just answer the door and see what he has to say. Stop primping.

  Giving herself a glare, Alison walked over to the door. Behind her, Bergey was still face-deep in his bowl, munching away. Undoing the latch, she pulled it open.

  “Lucien, I w—”

  Bergey barked sharply in a tone she’d never heard before. Loud, warning. It screamed danger, but it was too late.

  A very large man who wasn’t Lucien walked inside. Bald-headed, with piercing blue eyes that looked right through her, he was dressed head to toe in black form-fitting clothing that looked almost military in nature.

  “Who are y—” she tried to say before a gloved hand covered her mouth.

  Bergey came across the room like a rocket, barking and snarling, teeth bared, ears flared backward with the most protective look Alison had ever seen. She shook her head, trying to plead through the glove for them not to hurt the dog. She tried to tell them she would do whatever they wanted, just not to harm him.

  The boxer came forward on the attack with a snarling challenge, but then something unexpected happened. The man holding Alison by the mouth leaned down and growled at the dog. Alison didn’t know how the sound could be emitted by a human throat, but he did, and the effect was immediate.

  Bergey froze, then backed off with a whimper, looking at Alison almost apologetically.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Two more men came inside. One of them approached Bergey, who started to snarl until the first man growled at him again. The big boxer’s head drooped and he stayed still, letting the man put him on a full harness leash and muzzle. She was almost too astonished to realize that these men had obviously come prepared with some knowledge of her dog.

  “I don’t wish to hurt your dog,” the man holding her mouth covered said quietly. “But if you scream or try to escape, I will do what is necessary to ensure that we are undisturbed. Is that understood?

  His voice was so completely devoid of emotion, Alison shivered in fear. Who was he? Why was he here? What did they want with her?

  “Do you understand what I want?” he asked in that same neutral, emotionless voice.

  Alison forced her head to move up and down.

  “Good,” he said, letting go of her mouth. “I don’t wish to harm you either, so if you cooperate, this will go much easier.”

  “Cooperate with what?” she snapped. “All you’ve done is break into my house, tie up my dog and abuse me.”

  “I have not, and will not abuse you,” the man said with a promise that ran with honesty.

  Alison had a hard time reconciling that with the fact he was in her home unwanted, but she oddly enough didn’t sense any threat of physical harm from him. The restraint and focus was otherworldly.

  All of which adds up to make him extremely scary.

  This was a professional. At what, she didn’t know, but he was calm, collected, and well prepared. Alison was terrified.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked. “I haven’t done anything.”

  “Orders,” the man said, his thin lips compressing even thinner.

  “Orders?” she repeated incredulously.

  “Yes. I have a chain of command to follow. I follow it, because that’s my job. Do you not understand this?”

  She blinked. “I…the concept, yes of course I get it,” she said, returning to the couch at a gesture from her captor.

  The other two men stood nearby, one of them holding Bergey while the dog watched the entire proceedings warily.

  “It’s okay,” she muttered to her dog, trying to reassure him that he wasn’t in trouble.

  “Then you understand why I must do this,” the man said tightly.

  “What if your orders are wrong?” she questioned. “I haven’t done anything. I don’t do anything,” she added lamely. “So your orders must be wrong.”

  “They are not,” he said, standing nearby before checking a black wristwatch. “They come from a legitimate source.”

  This time, Alison couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement. “A legitimate source?” she asked incredulously. “You can’t possibly be serious. What legitimate source would tell you to break into my house and tie me up? I’ve done nothing wrong. Are you the police?”

  “No,” he said, his face becoming even more neutral.

  “The government? FBI? CIA? NSA? Some black ops group? Sector Seven?”

  The man glanced at her sharply. “No, of course not.”

  “So then you’re breaking the law,” she countered, crossing her arms defiantly. “Your orders have you breaking the law. How can you then say they’re not wrong?”

  To her complete surprise, the man actually paused to consider her words, his eyes unfocusing slightly as he lost himself in thought. Was this some sort of sarcastic attempt to pretend like he cared? It could be, if it weren’t for the fact that nothing about this man i
ndicated he had an ounce of sarcasm in his body. He was all focus and seriousness.

  “Your laws don’t apply to us,” he said at last. “We have our own set of laws.”

  “Our laws?” she echoed. “You’re on United States soil. All the laws apply to you. Even if they don’t, they apply to me. Including the ones about protection.”

  The bald man opened his mouth, closed it, mouth twitching to one side as he thought her words over. If he wasn’t acting, then it seemed she was actually having an effect on him. Could it be that he had never really considered the other side of his orders? She didn’t know, but it was her only way out and she had to run with it just now. If she could just get him to rethink, then maybe she could get free.

  “You know they’re wrong, that I don’t deserve this,” she started to say, but the man waved her off, fixing her with a pair of eyes that pinned her to the spot, their blue stare so intense she thought she could feel its physical weight.

  “They stopped applying to you when you started working with Lucien.”

  Alison’s head drooped. “Why am I not surprised this is his fault,” she muttered to no one in particular. “Are you the ones who beat him up?” she asked on a whim.

  There was no answer.

  Which means yes. These are the ones who nearly killed him. Which, she realized with a start, means they probably have no compunction about killing me either. Thank you, Lucien! What a wonderful parting gift.

  Anger warred with fear, neither one winning out. Somehow, a sliver of rationale extruded itself upon her, reminding Alison that if she panicked and gave in to fear, she would have a much smaller chance of survival. Keeping focused would be the key.

  “What do you want from me then?” she asked, fervently hoping they didn’t intend to keep her as a hostage to get at Lucien.

  “Where is Lucien? Once we have him, you will be free to go.”

  Well, so much for that idea.

  “I don’t know,” she told them. “I sent him away because he wouldn’t be open with me.”

  “What is he up to?” the bald-headed leader asked. “What is he planning?”

  Alison sighed. “I. Don’t. Know.” She rolled her eyes, letting her frustration at Lucien bleed through. “That’s why I sent him away. He wouldn’t tell me anything. I hate people who keep secrets. Your guess on all this is as good as mine.”

  “Sit,” the man said tiredly, pointing at the blanket-covered couch. “We’ll wait until you do remember something. Or until he arrives.”

  Frowning, she did as she was told. It was odd. These men cared nothing about her, who she was, nothing. They only wanted Lucien. Who were they? And what the hell secret agency had he pissed off?

  Stay focused. Think, Alison. You’re the one in trouble right now. Keep your eyes open.

  If a chance to escape were to present itself, it could come at any time, and she needed to be ready for it. That was, if she didn’t manufacture something first.

  But what?

  14

  He skidded to a halt, flanks heaving with the exertion of his mad dash across town. Taking the straight route wasn’t possible, it would have led him through downtown. Forced to detour through side streets and parks had benefitted him in other ways, however, allowing Lucien to truly open up the throttle and let his four-legged form reach close to top speed.

  Now, however, he needed stealth, but also flexibility to deal with any sort of attack, and that meant he needed to be back on two legs. Before he’d even come to a complete stop, the change was already upon him. The world flickered and altered subtly as his body went through the awkward transition.

  Then all at once, Lucien was back, crouched on his haunches, balancing on the balls of his feet as steam poured off his body into the night sky. Anyone looking in infrared would see a huge bright ball of red if they happened to be looking his way, but it was unavoidable. Although he couldn’t bring anything with him in the change, Lucien had an excellent sense of time.

  He had no more than three minutes left before the men holding Alison got agitated. Three minutes to scout the property and deal with them. It was going to be close.

  Creeping forward, aware of his own nudity as the cool breeze wafted into places even a shifter never got used to, Lucien peered over the fence. He was two houses down from Alison’s, which he hoped would be enough to mask his arrival. There was plenty of other noise to drown out his stealth approach.

  Unfortunately, that worked both ways. The distant hum of traffic, such as it was in a small town mixed with the nearby grunt and chug of a generator. Someone’s heating unit clicked on in the distance, adding its noise to that of the night animals. Owls and other animals chirped and tittered at one another, all of it serving to cover Lucien’s arrival.

  A quick look through fence slats showed one man out front, and another out back. He couldn’t see inside, but a standard squad size was five men, a Hand, which meant three more inside, one of whom would undoubtedly be Lyken. Lucien’s lips pulled back in a silent toothy snarl as he reigned himself in, reminding his brain that Alison was the priority here.

  Time was running out, however, and he needed to act, and act quickly. Reaching down, he fumbled around. All he felt was grass. Dammit. Looking at the nearby neighbors’ house, he spied what he was looking for and darted over to a garden nearby. Grabbing several perfect-sized projectiles, he returned to the fence.

  Taking aim, he launched one far into the opposite side of Alison’s yard. It banged up against the fence, immediately drawing the attention of the guard back there who went over to inspect, drawing him out of visual range of the guard up front. The two had left a gate open so they could watch each other and their area all at once.

  Lucien wasted no time. He was up and over the fence in a second. There was no way to do it silently, so he went for speed. The sentry saw him coming, turning at the sound of his feet landing on the ground, but all he could manage was a widening of his eyes before Lucien hit him like a truck in the midsection, tackling him far out of range of the gate.

  One hand clamped over the man’s mouth, while the other drove a raised knuckle deep into his groin, then pulled back and struck him square in the solar plexus, driving all the air from his lungs even as he curled up in pain.

  Lucien snarled, uncaring about the cheap shot. These men had gone after Alison. They were just lucky he didn’t kill them, though he would have been in the right to do so.

  I will not be the first. Our side will not start the killing.

  Pain was another story, and he intended for them to know they shouldn’t mess with his mate. He hauled back and landed blow after blow to the man’s face until his eyes rolled back and he slipped into unconsciousness.

  Breathing heavily once again, Lucien stood up and raced toward the gate, just as he heard the second shifter call out for the first. A moment later, he walked into the front yard, completely unaware that Lucien was crouched at the gate, waiting.

  He rose up like a shadow, arm snaking in underneath the guard’s chin and tightening around his neck like a noose.

  “Don’t fight it,” he urged. “That’s a big arm.”

  The guard struggled and tried to gouge out his eyes, but Lucien leaned way back and squeezed harder until they both tumbled to the ground, the sudden added weight catching him off guard.

  Jumping to his feet, he raced to the closest window, peering in through the tiniest of cracks. He could see three men. One of them tall, bald and with unmistakable blue eyes.

  Lyken!

  The shifter was talking to Alison, who seemed rather calm for her predicament, much to Lucien’s surprise. A quick peek showed him another figure, this one holding a harnessed and subdued Bergey. No surprise there. Lucien had refrained from establishing dominance over the dog, but Lyken wouldn’t have hesitated.

  He caught a flicker of motion farther to the left, mostly out of his line of sight, but concluded that must be the fifth and final member of the squad. Now that he’d substantially evened the
odds, it was time to get this part underway.

  Moving back to the front, he dragged the unconscious shifter out of the way, dumping him at the side of the house. The man stirred as he was dropped in a heap, so Lucien added a few blows to the head for good measure to ensure he stayed out. That taken care of, he then proceeded back to the door. Covering his mouth, he gave a muffled shout of surprise and then flattened himself against the house.

  He heard noises inside and then the front door opened a second later. Lucien didn’t hesitate as he saw someone coming through. He reached out, grabbed them and tossed them across the yard.

  Even before he’d let go, however, he was turning his attention back to the house as the second shifter came running out. This time, Lucien resorted to an even more basic trick and simply tripped him. The shifter shouted in surprise as he went down, then grunted as Lucien landed on his back, driving him into the concrete walkway hard.

  His target grunted and lay still, out cold, but before Lucien could react, a speeding bullet hit him from the right as the first shifter returned. The two rolled to the ground in a pile of flurry of punches and kicks. Lucien grunted as one of the elbows hit him in the temple, but thankfully it was only a grazing blow.

  Rolling apart, he kicked off, giving space for him to come to his feet and recover.

  “Lucien, listen to—”

  He didn’t listen. Instead, he went on the offensive, once again playing dirty. His opponent wasn’t ready for it, and he squealed in pain as a knee crunched his sensitive bits. Sympathy pain blossomed in Lucien but he squashed it, the overriding fear for Alison’s safety his prime directive.

  By now, Lyken knew what was going on out here, and if Lucien didn’t even the odds up before he came outside, he would be outnumbered two to one. Any of the guards he had faith he could handle. Lyken, however, was another story. He hadn’t gotten to be the Captain of House Canis without being a fearsome fighter among other things. Even one on one, Lucien doubted he could take his former friend.

  Gaining the upper hand, he used it ruthlessly, pounding his fist down again and again, until his victim went limp. Lucien watched the shifter hit the ground and lie still, the only sign of a life a slow rise and fall of his chest, even as blood ran freely from his nose and mouth.