(Un)wise (Judgement of the Six Book 3)

by Melissa Haag

  “What’s to understand?” I practically screamed at him, angry that he was making me say it. “I’m not safe. I’ll never be safe again. I’m so tired, I have no idea how to help myself, and I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  His eyes soften, and he lifted a hand as if he wanted to move toward me. But, he stopped himself, dropped his hand, and sighed softly. “We can stay here longer so you can rest,” he offered.

  I threw my arms up in the air. “It won’t do any good.” At his blank look, I said, “I’m reliving all our past lives, mine and my sisters. I’ve been cut, beaten, starved, raped, drowned, and even blinded.”

  His eyes hardened at each method of torture I listed, but I barely paid his reaction any attention. Listing the things that I had experienced brought the memories too close to the surface, and there were so many more ways his kind had hurt me that I left unsaid.

  “Every time I close my eyes, I see more, and there’s no rest when that’s what I see. When I wake I’m just as tired as I was when I went to sleep. And I don’t just see the past, I feel it. Every injury. Every forced intimate moment. If I let myself dwell on it, I won’t ever feel whole again.” I gave a pained snort. “I’m not really sure I do now. If I’ve ever had a happy past life, I don’t remember it. Instead, I remember the pain, and death. Always death...” I said, starting to cry in anger and in fear. “I don’t want to die again,” I whispered brokenly. “But if you’re here to try to get me to choose you, you can’t have me.” I said the words to help remind me, too. He was so...nice. It made the Taupe Lady’s warning hard to remember. “Even if it means I have to die again.”

  He growled, and I saw how what I said had affected him. Jaw clenched, he fought the skin-rippling change trying to consume him. He turned and forcefully yanked open the door. The trim splintered near the latch. When he slammed it shut behind him, a piece fell to the floor.

  Stunned, I flopped back down on the bed with a slow sigh. I’d baited him—what? Twice now? Three times?—and I was still unharmed, breathing. A crazy half-sob, half-laugh bubbled from my chest.

  The roar of his motorcycle reached me. I hopped off the bed and raced to the door, opening it just in time to see him speed away.

  Stupefied, I stood in the doorway for several long moments before my brain kicked in. What an idiot for clarifying who I was when I knew I couldn’t trust him. Who knew what he was up to? They always appeared in packs. Maybe he was getting the rest of his pack. Then, I thought of Baen. He’d been alone the first time; but he’d made me bite him before he ran off. So, this was different. And I wasn’t a clueless, stupid kid this time. Yet, I still made tired mistakes. I needed to move.

  Closing the door, I quickly circled the bed looking for my shoes. They weren’t there. I checked the bathroom, using it quickly in the process, and didn’t see anything there either. My chest started to tighten. I didn’t have time to waste but couldn’t just leave without them. My feet were tough, but the temperature was dropping. I wouldn’t make it far.

  Growling in frustration, I grabbed my bag and dug for as many pair of socks as I could find. Two. I sat on the bed to pull them on over the ones I wore, but didn’t get the chance.

  I fell into a dream. Hard.

  * * * *

  A sprinkling of water on my face woke me before I died. Still caught up in the dream, I looked up at Luke and blinked in confusion at his disgruntled expression.

  “You already slept ten hours. How can you still be this tired?”

  “I’m not,” I said sitting up quickly.

  He stood before me with a white paper bag and a large thick paper cup in one hand. The other hand shone wetly.

  “The dreams take me over sometimes, no matter how rested I am,” I mumbled feeling the need to explain. He held out the cup to me. I didn’t move to take it as I remembered how he’d taken off. “I thought you left to get the rest of your men.”

  He huffed a martyr style sigh and sat beside me on the bed. Too close in my opinion.

  “What men?”

  Instead of answering, I looked down at my hands while trying to ignore the quick erratic heartbeat his close proximity caused. He misunderstood my move and made a small noise of annoyance.

  “Never mind,” I mumbled.

  “Bethi, I really am here to help you. No strings. I just don’t know how,” he said softly.

  He thought I just didn’t trust him. He was right. I didn’t. But that wasn’t the reason for my hesitancy. I didn’t like feeling so dependent on him. Especially since my insides kept going crazy when he was close or I when looked at him or when I smelled him. It was getting ridiculous.

  “You are helping me,” I said trying for brusque detachment. “If not for you, I’d be walking.”

  He studied my profile for a moment before handing me the cup. “I thought coffee might help.”

  My throat dried at the quiet concern laced in with his words, so I accepted the cup and took a hasty swig. It scalded my tongue and I almost spit it back into the cup. Instead, I swallowed, burning a layer from my throat. Ignoring his concerned frown, I suggested we hit the road. It was uncomfortable just sitting there.

  “I brought you something to eat, too,” he said opening the bag and pulling out a plastic carton.

  He sat there patiently holding out the food, waiting for me to decide.

  My mouth watered as a hint of bacony goodness drifted my way. He quirked a slight smile at me as I reached for it, but he willingly handed it over. A stacked breakfast sandwich lay inside. My stomach rumbled as I looked at it. I sat next to him and devoured the offering. He smiled as he watched me. I ignored him.

  When I threw the carton in the garbage, he stood, picked up my bag, reached inside his jacket, and pulled out my shoes.

  “Gee, thanks,” I drawled, reclaiming my missing shoes.

  Luke grinned in response and handed me the jacket as well before he shouldered my bag and walked out the door to check us out of the room. I set my almost empty coffee to the side, sat and peeled off the extra socks.

  He’d done it again, helped me without demanding anything in return. Was he just waiting for a moment of weakness before he pounded, or had my dream about Baen pointed me toward help? I wanted to believe Luke was the help I was meant to find. Yet he also did things to make sure I didn’t run from him. I mean, come on! He stole my shoes. And did he think I didn’t notice him leaving with my bag? I wondered why he did any of it. Was it because he thought I wouldn’t be safe if I struck out on my own again or something else? I really wanted the answer to be because he was worried about me. Yet, at the same time, I knew I was being irrational. How many lifetimes had the werewolves shown me that they couldn’t be trusted. It far outnumbered the two lifetimes—so far, anyway—that they had tried to keep me safe. Still...I wanted to believe. The thought that he was keeping me captive...well, I needed to believe my life wasn’t hopeless.

  I beat him to the motorcycle and waited, watching him cross the parking lot. My heart gave a quick stutter as he got closer. He moved with purpose, and his eyes swept over me. I tried to squash any signs of my physical attraction, but I couldn’t help watching his long legs clear the seat with ease. To distract myself, I wondered what he’d look like as a dog. Would he have those same menacingly eerie eyes? Would he threaten me with his teeth?

  After settling behind him, he motioned to the strap on his shoulder. I grudgingly lifted the bag around my torso. Falling from the back of the bike didn’t sound fun.

  We pulled away in a hurry. Even with all of the sleep, I felt the tug of the next dream. I tried everything from sticking my face in the wind—versus staying crouched behind Luke—to biting my lip as hard as I could. Eventually, the dream won.

  Chapter Six

  A hand tapping my face pulled me out.

  “We need help. A car. This isn’t working,” he said gently.

  “No, this is fine,” I mumbled peeling my eyes open. It really wasn’t fine. We were pulled over again. Trees lined the
sides of the road in both directions. For a second time, I sat in his lap with the bag and strap twisted around us. The bike still idled.

  “Can you make it twenty minutes without sleeping?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “It seems worse with you.”

  He looked at me in surprise. “When I’m near you, you don’t cry out. I thought your dreams calmed when I...” He didn’t finish his sentence, but I filled in the missing parts.

  He was right. My dreams did calm when I was near him. I dreamed of helpful things like glimpses of explanations from the Taupe Lady, instead of my constant pointless death. In fact, I’d learned so much more after Luke found me than in the prior months.

  My eyes widened as I considered the implications. Was Luke really the key? In my past lives, after claiming a werewolf, the dreams had come less frequently. And when they did appear, their purpose was more focused. So, if I Claimed Luke...

  “I changed my mind,” I said quickly. “I will Claim you.”

  “No!” He flinched as if I slapped him, but his gaze drifted to my mouth.

  He remained motionless, studying me, his eyes filled with barely checked wanting. It wasn’t desire as much as it was the ability to call me his own. I’d seen that look before in other lives. They’d coveted me for the power of my knowledge. Why did he want me? I decided it didn’t really matter and held myself still, hoping he was reconsidering his answer. So far, he had kept me safe and treated me well. If claiming him would end my dreams—or at least slow them—did I need any more proof from him that he would take care of me? He had already shown he was infinitely better than the werewolves I’d claimed in past live—except maybe Baen. And it didn’t hurt that my heart was beating out yes like an SOS.

  The look in his eyes grew tender as he brushed a stand of hair from my face. His fingers left a trail of warmth where they brushed my skin. I wanted him to do it again. Touch me. His breath hitched when I tilted my head slightly. His fingers trembled as he touched my hair. Encouraged, my hand drifted to his bicep.

  The contact broke the spell, and he hastily set me on my feet next to the bike. Like cold water splashed in my face, it brought me back to reality. I needed to claim him for the right reasons—to get rid of the dreams where I died, and not the wrong reason—because he made my insides quiver.

  Being connected by the strap didn’t give us much room. It pinned us together and brought my face close to his neck. I blinked at the opportunity, and I didn’t wait for permission. I darted in with the intent to end the bad dreams, but my teeth didn’t reach my intended target.

  Luke had shoved his hand between my face and his neck at the first sign of my move. I should have anticipated his speed, I thought. With my face humiliatingly mashed into the palm of his hand, I grew angry.

  “What’s your problem? I know you feel the pull. This is what’s supposed to happen.” I resisted stomping my foot as he slipped out of the strap. Standing tall and out of his personal space, I glared at him. He looked angry, too.

  “No, it is not. Why did you change your mind?”

  “I’m tired of dying!” I cried. “It hurts! What don’t you understand? Every time I close my damn eyes, I feel every anguished moment of one of our past lives. Claiming you will make the dreams better.” I tried to keep the begging tone from my voice, but by the end, that’s what I did. Beg. “Please, Luke.”

  Some of the tension eased out of him, and he looked at the trees, taking a moment before answering.

  “I promised I only wanted to help you. And I will. The dreams are better when I sleep near you. We will keep doing that,” he said without meeting my eyes. “Climb on.”

  I felt like throwing a fit, but then I realized the position I would be in if I climbed back on—right by his neck. Keeping the triumphant grin from my face, I slipped behind him.

  For the next twenty minutes, he face-palmed me at least fifty times. When I gave up in frustration and leaned my forehead against his back, his heat started lulling me.

  “I’m going under,” I managed to mumble before my eyes closed.

  “Try to hold on. I called for help. There should be a car ahead,” he called over his shoulder. He sped up instead of slowing down.

  A fear-induced adrenaline spike pushed the dream back, and my eyes popped open. “What do you mean you called for help?”

  I barely got the words out when an object flew from the woods beside us. Big, black, and furry, it just missed our back tire. In stunned disbelief, I clung to him as we raced on. He’d really done it. He’d called for the rest of his pack.

  Luke twitched before me, and I peeked over his shoulder. In one of the mirrors, I saw the reason. My heart leapt into my throat as I twisted to look behind us.

  It ran on all fours. Its paws pounded the pavement as it gained on us. With a sleek head and a vicious snarl, it looked just like the werewolves in my dreams. Seeing it all affirmed, I started shaking.

  “Hold on,” Luke warned me.

  Relief flooded me. Not one of his.

  “Faster!” I shouted and hit Luke on the back.

  He had already twisted the throttle when another shape flew into our path. Luke leaned far to the left and made a swift deep swerve around the second one. I clung to his back panting in fear. We were both going to die. He barely recovered from the swerve when something snagged the bag on my back—the same bag strapping me to Luke—and pulled. My breath left me in a whoosh.

  With my arms wrapped around his waist, my shoulders screamed in pain as I struggled to hold on. Then suddenly, the pressure eased. The bike flew forward, riderless, as we stayed in place, hanging in the air. The strap still connected us. Luke whipped an arm back to keep me pressed against him while he severed the strap. We landed with a thud just seconds after being unseated. The bike glided for a distance and then fell onto its side on the gravel shoulder.

  Despite my bruised and aching butt, I scrambled to my feet. Luke already stood in a semi-crouch near me, facing off with the two dogs that circled us.

  “Go,” he said nudging me.

  “No, thanks,” I whispered. Running through the woods away from the only person who might be willing to protect me didn’t seem like a good idea. Besides, I’d been chased through the woods before, and it hadn’t ended well.

  Luke’s skin rippled as he partially changed. My heart thumped painfully seeing the truth of what he was. His nails elongated, and his back hunched a bit. He leapt at the wolf to the right with his upper body, and then he swung his legs to kick the one on the left. He scored a solid hit on both seconds before he fully burst into his fur. I backed up two steps staring at the copper-coated wolf.

  The wolf on the right shook his head as if to clear it and spun to attack Luke. The other wolf scrambled to its feet snarling.

  Spinning to meet their attack, Luke savagely ripped into the lead attacker’s face with his teeth. Blood colored Luke’s muzzle as the wolf tried to shake him off. The second wolf circled the pair watching for an opening. Luke’s eyes trailed that wolf’s progress as he maintained his gruesome hold. If the second one attacked, he would have to let go to protect himself and would lose the upper hand.

  I picked up a heavy rock from the shoulder of the road and chucked it at the stalking wolf. Had it been paying attention to me in the slightest, it would have seen it coming. As it was, the rock hit it square on the right side of its head with a sickening sound, eliciting a yelp of pain.

  Luke twisted his hold on the first wolf’s muzzle as he dropped his hind legs and rolled. He heaved the wolf into the stunned second wolf then went for the throat. The first wolf couldn’t even manage a yelp. There was just a gurgling wheeze. The second wolf, pinned under the first, struggled for a moment before Luke finished it, too. He turned to me, blinking. I couldn’t say anything as I continued to stare wide-eyed at the aftermath of the fighting.

  Within seconds, both forms shifted back into their skin. Two dead men on the side of the road with ripped out throats. I didn’t
flinch at the sight. It was depressingly familiar.

  Luke took a few steps toward me, claiming my full attention. The same hazel eyes, but a little bigger, stared back at me. Though he didn’t bare his teeth at me, he looked far from friendly with the blood around his mouth. My chest tightened to the point that it hurt to breathe. Still, I managed.

  He shook out his fur and trotted over to my bag. With his back to me, he shifted to his skin. Honey-kissed skin exposed to the world did what the fighting hadn’t. I felt a little faint. Blood and gore? Not a problem. Luke naked, showing me a perfect backside? I lost my composure, what little I had, and a tiny sound escaped me.

  “Turn around,” he said not looking at me.

  “Ha! No way.” A slightly hysterical sigh escaped me.

  He scowled over his shoulder at me and reached into my bag for his hoodie and a pair of my pajama pants. It gave me a lovely profile view, just barely hiding the naughty bits. A giggle escaped me as he stepped into what he’d grabbed. His scowl twitched, and I knew he wanted to smile, too.

  Covered, he picked up the bag, marched over to me wearing tight, high-water Tinker Bell pajama pants, and handed me the bag.

  “We’ll need to stop for new clothes,” he commented with a wry grin.

  I stood frozen, fully seeing his face after his change back, and couldn’t make myself answer with either a smile or a nod. Instead, I reached into the bag, grabbed a shirt at random, and used it to wipe the blood from around his mouth. My hand shook. Okay, so maybe the blood did affect me.

  He saw the blood and gently took the shirt from my hand. He tucked it back into the bag then went to pick up the bike.

  He waved me over as soon as he had it started again.

  I numbly walked past the bodies and put my hand on his shoulder to take my place behind him.

  “No falling asleep,” he warned, setting the bag in front of him. He used his legs and the broken straps to keep it in place.