Hunting Season

by Kate Rudolph

  Owen's stuff was inside, so he had to go in to at least get that, but he wasn't her bodyguard anymore. She was supposed to be safe. Whatever bad guys were after her were supposed to be taken care of.

  She wasn't sure that she had the full story, but she didn't think that her brother or her father would purposely put her in peril. Use her as bait? Maybe, but even if they were doing that, they would warn her.

  Right?

  That was something she shouldn't dwell on.

  "I can stay," Owen offered as he looked over at her, one hand on the steering wheel, one on the console between them.

  "As my bodyguard or my boyfriend?" After the nights they'd spent together and all that they shared, it felt a little strange to ask, but she needed to be sure. Owen had made his declarations, and they sure as hell liked each other. Their chemistry was off the charts.

  Owen leaned across the car and gave her a searing kiss. When he pulled back he was grinning. "Does that answer your question?"

  She couldn't help but touch her fingers to her lips. "It's been a long time since I've had a boyfriend. None of them have been like you. And I don't think I've ever dated a werewolf. I'm not really good at the dating thing." It was probably a little late to warn him about her less than stellar dating record. But it only seemed fair.

  "I can be a lot more than your boyfriend," Owen said, undeterred by her warning. "I want to keep you forever."

  Her heart leapt, but she wasn't surprised. Everything between them was so intense. Maybe it would be good to test out what it was like to be with him without werewolf bullshit or kidnappers threatening them every minute.

  But still Stasia had to tease him a little.

  "So we have sex a few times and suddenly I'm your fated mate?" she asked with a grin. The weight of the last week was lifting off of her and she could imagine what it would be like to just be with Owen.

  But Owen froze where he sat, eyes wide. "What did you say?" he asked carefully.

  That wasn't the reaction she was expecting. "Isn't that what all of these stories say? You're a werewolf. Silver hurts you. Of course you have a fated mate. But I don't belong to you." She wanted to be absolutely clear on that point. "No matter what I said in the heat of the moment. I'm not about to be a little woman. Got that?"

  Owen gave a shell-shocked nod, and then he leaned in again and kissed her, and this time it was even more passionate than the last.

  "Fated mate. I like the sound of that." He grinned.

  They went inside but they didn't make it very far before Owen scooped her up off of her feet and charged up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Apprehension had been growing within Owen for a few hours. Stasia was safely upstairs asleep, but he was doing a final check to make sure all of the doors were locked and that the security system was engaged. It was near midnight and he wished the security team was still outside.

  Was this the kind of fear that came from loving someone? Was he always going to worry that someone might come for his mate?

  Or would he be better once he was convinced that the kidnappers who had wanted her really were gone?

  He would ask Stasia if he could talk to her father and brother the next day. Perhaps AR or Armand Selby could give him some insight into what was going on. He wasn't going to let anyone come for Stasia again.

  The security system was engaged, the doors and windows were locked, and there wasn't much more Owen could do to make sure they were safe. He considered taking a walk around the building to look for anyone suspicious but decided that was a step too far.

  He wasn't that paranoid.. But maybe he should have been.

  He heard something plonk against the giant windows in the library. The French doors could open to a small balcony and it would make a great point of entrance if someone could get up to this floor. Definitely not impossible given the fire escapes or sufficient climbing equipment.

  He checked it out, but the sound didn't seem to be anything. Maybe a bird or a twig. He opened up his senses, trying to use his wolf, but still nothing.

  Everything was fine. Stasia was safe. Or as safe as she ever could be.

  He headed back toward the bedroom and that was when he heard her scream.

  Owen sprinted. Who had her? How had he missed something?

  The screams were gut-wrenching. It sounded like she was being stabbed and Owen could feel his claws and teeth growing sharper as he busted through the door, ready to take on whoever was threatening his mate.

  But there was no one else inside the bedroom.

  Stasia lay on the bed and thrashed from side to side, her body covered in a heavy sweat and her mouth letting out pained screams.

  Owen had to take a deep breath to pull in his claws and teeth. His mate needed him for something else. This wasn't an enemy he could fight.

  He made it to the side of the bed and wasn't sure whether he should touch her. Finally he decided to at least feel for a fever. That was a first step. His hand covered her forehead and her skin was burning hot.

  Her eyes flashed open and they were the same yellow he saw when his wolf was close to the surface.

  She was changing. It might've taken him and the others three months to go from the ritual to their first change, but she had only been bitten about a day ago, maybe thirty hours at the most. He knew that was important information, something he would need to know, but it didn't feel important now. Right now he just had to figure out how to get her safely through this.

  He and the others had changed quickly once it had begun. There had been howling, but not much screaming, and not this kind of pain.

  Was something wrong?

  Was this something a person wasn't meant to survive?

  Fear swept over Owen and he wished he had somebody he could call, but he wasn't going to leave Stasia alone. She needed someone to bring her through this change and out the other side and that someone was him.

  At least that was his plan until he heard glass shatter in another room and the security alarm started blaring.

  His instincts had been right. She wasn't safe.

  He had his gun still on him and his wolf within him, but how could he leave Stasia?

  A second window shattered in another room. That meant more than one intruder. Probably more than two. If he didn't leave to defend her, the intruders might get to her. And she was in such a vulnerable state that she couldn't fight back.

  He couldn't leave her in this room. It wasn't easily defensible. And it was the first place that the intruders would check. Besides, he didn't want her to get wrapped up in the sheets as she struggled against the change. He scooped her off of the bed and winced as she let out a pained cry.

  She would be okay. She had to be.

  The master bathroom only had a small window to the outside, one a person couldn't fit through. It meant she was trapped, but they would have to get through him to get to her. He placed her in the bathtub. It wasn't safe, but there weren't obstructions there and he didn't have many other choices.

  Owen gave her forehead a kiss and then turned away and headed out to fight whoever was coming for her. He was going to show no mercy; they didn't get to come into his mate's home and try to take her or hurt her. It would be the last mistake they ever made.

  While his wolf hadn't been much help during his patrol of the house, now it was close to the surface and it felt like he could hear everything, smell everything, even see everything. He was tempted to shift fully, but he needed his hands. Claws and sharp teeth would have to do.

  He closed the bathroom door and hoped that it would hold for long enough. Then he left the bedroom.

  The first attacker had already made it to the hallway outside the bedroom, and Owen leapt at him without hesitation. The man didn't have a gun. That was good. It meant he probably wasn't here for death, just kidnapping. But that was his mistake. He had a Taser, and it might've done enough to slow Owen down if he hadn't got the jump on the guy,
but he did.

  And he made short work of him with teeth and claws and punches. The man went down and Owen didn't care if he was dead or alive. Judging by the amount of blood he didn't have much hope for survival.

  One down, how many to go?

  He continued down the hall and followed his ears to the next guy. This one had a stun gun and it almost touched Owen, but he was too fast, and this time he reached for his own weapon and got off two shots, making the man drop down.

  Two down.

  There were still more. At least four if his ears were not deceiving him, and he doubted they were. Six people to come and retrieve Stasia. Overkill? If that's what they thought, they were severely mistaken.

  But the arrogance of Owen's wolf almost got him killed. He charged down the hall ready to take on the next attacker, but the four remaining weren't loners. They were bunched together as a solid unit, and judging by their gear were more than capable of taking on one man, even a man as well trained as Owen.

  Stasia screamed again. Owen wanted to go to her. She needed help. She needed her mate. She shouldn't be doing this alone. But if he went to her, she was doomed.

  He checked the clip of his gun and took cover, hoping he could get off lucky shots and take these guys out.

  One on four were terrible odds, especially since he was wearing street clothes and only had one clip for his gun.

  But he had to win. It was the only shot.

  Stasia screamed again.

  "What's wrong with her?" a male voice demanded, one of the kidnappers.

  "We better not have gone through all this trouble for a dead bitch," said another.

  Owen growled.

  And then he felt something at the back of his consciousness, an awareness that he only felt on nights of the full moon. It wasn't his wolf. It almost felt like someone else's. Two other people.

  The front door burst open and the four attackers screamed as a hail of bullets showered them. It was loud enough to drown out Stasia's screams. Andre and Vega entered while the kidnappers took cover.

  Andre found Owen quickly. "Go to her. We've got this."

  "How did you know to come?" Owen didn't have time to ask, but he had to know.

  "Gibson wanted us to watch your back. He had a bad feeling about this."

  Gibson was right. Owen didn't waste anymore time talking. He ran up the steps and went to the bedroom and then into the bathroom. Stasia was still screaming and her body looked wrecked, caught between human form and another.

  He didn't know how she was going to survive this, but he would sell his soul to make sure that she did.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The pain was tearing Stasia apart. She screamed, but her mouth made no sound. She would give up anything to have it end. She didn't know it was possible for a person to feel like this.

  Was she still alive? It couldn't hurt this much to die. Or was she being sent to some sort of eternal damnation where she was doomed to feel like this for the rest of eternity?

  She never thought it would end. The fire ripped through her and rolled around and made it impossible to think.

  But between one breath and the next, it did. Something rippled over her and her body shifted, her limbs finding a new shape, fur growing from her skin, and her senses sharpening in a way they had never sharpened before.

  Stasia breathed deep and caught scents she didn't know were possible.

  Was that blood?

  That was a smell she recognized, human or wolf. And that was what she was now, a wolf. The bite had taken hold. She had shifted.

  She didn't have time to think about it before the need to move overtook her. She bounced up and realized that she was sitting in her bathtub and Owen was right there beside her. But he was human.

  She gave a small bark and watched as his face lit up in joy. She wanted him to shift with her and run, but he just ran his fingers through her hair and said something she couldn't quite understand. Her senses were all firing at once and it was hard to make sense of anything.

  She climbed out of the bathtub, which took a little bit of work to figure out, and then she pranced into her bedroom, but when she tried to leave the room Owen wouldn't let her. She growled at him, demanding that he move aside, but he said something again and didn't move.

  Stasia ran in circles around the room and made herself dizzy. The room had seemed big when she bought the house, but it was still just big by New York standards and she barely had any room to move.

  But the burst of energy burned itself out almost as quickly as it came and after only a few minutes, Stasia climbed up onto the bed and collapsed in a tired heap of fur.

  She didn't know what the blood smell was. She didn't know why Owen was so scared. But she was too tired to really think about it for long and sleep claimed her. The last thing she felt was Owen combing his fingers through her fur.

  She shifted back to human some time in the middle of the night and woke up on the bed, completely naked, but covered by her sheets. She didn't see Owen anywhere but she could hear someone moving around the house. A glance at the clock told her it was early, really early. The sun was barely peeking out through the windows, definitely not fully risen yet, and the normal sounds of the city from outside were muted as they often were in the early morning hours.

  Stasia took stock of her body. She was a werewolf. She remembered the pain from the night before and the change, but there was something missing. Her mind had been so focused on what was happening to her, but she could feel an emptiness, something she didn't know. Something that had to do with this scent of blood that was permeating her house.

  She stretched her muscles and tried to decide if she felt much different. There was an awareness in the back of her mind. Her wolf? The pack? Maybe.

  But she still felt like herself. She didn't feel like someone who was bound to turn into a raving monster and rampage through the city on the search for fresh blood. She just felt like Stasia Nichols, doctor and werewolf.

  Doctor to werewolves?

  Maybe that too. But she was pretty sure everyone would give her at least a day to think it over.

  Stasia put on clothes and headed downstairs. The first sign of trouble was the blood on the walls. And then there was the broken glass.

  Had she done this? She didn't remember moving around. She remembered Owen blocking the door after she shifted. Had she rampaged through the house before the change took hold?

  But a few steps more showed more blood and it definitely wasn't hers. If she had lost that much blood she would have known it.

  There was a draft coming down the hallway and she took a few steps toward the office before Owen stepped in her path.

  "Come on. We've got some decisions to make."

  "Decisions?" She didn't like the sound of that. She wanted to know what had happened. But Owen was going to tell her and she just had to follow him for now.

  She was surprised to see Vega and Andre sitting at the table in her kitchen eating her food. And suddenly she was ravenous. Before Owen could say anything she went to the refrigerator and dug through for anything she could shove in her mouth. Three cheese sticks, great. Good enough. It would barely take the edge off, but at least it was something.

  "Make her some food, kid," Andre told Vega.

  The young werewolf jumped to his feet without any backtalk and started digging through her cupboards with an almost unnerving familiarity.

  Stasia put the cheese stick wrappers down and looked at the other two men. "Anyone want to tell me what's going on? Besides me turning into a werewolf."

  Before either could answer, she heard a pained groan from the other room.

  She turned her head and looked through the door and caught sight of a bound form sitting against the wall. He wasn't alone.

  "Somebody better start talking."

  "We were attacked last night," said Owen. "Six men came for you. Armed with stun guns. Gibson sent Vega and Andre to cover us and we fought them off. They're tied up in there. I
thought you would want to decide what to do with them."

  Six men. Her father had said she was supposed to be safe. Her brother had said she was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to be safe. So how did six men break into her house, cause tons of damage, and nearly kill her, all without the protection her father and brother were supposed to be providing?

  Had AR lied to her? Had he used her as bait? Or had he merely been wrong?

  It was only a little after five in the morning and it was too early to be caught up with these questions, but she couldn't ignore them.

  Owen put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his strength. A moment later Vega set a large plate of eggs in front of her.

  Her stomach growled again, and before she could make a decision she needed to eat.

  She ate. It didn't take long. And then Vega sat more food down in front of her and she ate some more.

  She pushed the second plate of eggs away once she was done. "Is this what my new appetite is going to be like?" She liked food, but a normal amount. Not half a dozen eggs in one sitting. Was it only half? She had a feeling Vega had made even more.

  "Your body burned a lot of calories last night," and Andre. "When we changed we all ate like pigs for about a week, but it eventually normalized. You'll need to eat a lot. Three to five thousand calories a day or thereabouts. But not so much that it will seem outlandish. We're not talking an Olympic athlete's intake."

  That was probably twice what she normally ate now, but Stasia would deal with that when the time came. Vega set more food down in front of her and she ate again.

  But finally once the dozen eggs were digested along with a couple pieces of toast and, thankfully, about a gallon of coffee, she could start to think about the men who had attacked her and what needed to be done.

  "My brother," she decided. The police were useless. And they would ask questions that Stasia didn't want to answer. Besides, if these men had been hired by someone with power, they would be back on the street in no time. AR would make sure the men had to pay for what they did.