Disorderly Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by J. Rose Allister

  Halfway through the living room, a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, just as it had the first time. Unlike then, however, the crush of his fingers digging into flesh didn’t freeze her with shock. She spun around and slapped him full in the face while her foot kicked viciously at his shin.

  Now that she was facing the other way, she raced past him back to the kitchen. She made it out the back door, which was still standing open, and was halfway to the woods before he caught up to her.

  This time, he didn’t merely grab her. She felt him slam into her full force, knocking her to the ground. Pain exploded in her forearms and cheek, but it was drowned immediately by survival instinct. Lana shrieked, but with his weight on her back, she couldn’t draw enough breath to put much volume into it. She tried anyway while she fought to get him off her.

  She heard a familiar tearing sound and redoubled her efforts, calling for help until he reached around to slap a wide piece of tape across her mouth. He had her arms pinned beneath his legs, and with another rip of duct tape being peeled from the roll, he brought her wrists behind her and wrapped them together painfully tight. Tears ran down her face to mingle with encrusted dirt, pine needles, and what might have been blood while she fought to buck his body off hers. If she could only get to her feet, maybe she still had a chance.

  He turned around while sitting on her back, and despite her kicking and wailing, he lashed her ankles together with too much tape to believe she’d somehow manage to work free of it. He had her, plain and simple, with her mates too far away to get to her quickly. Her heart iced over even as it tried to break free from her chest.

  “You’re a tough one to find these days, Violet,” he said, his usual calm sarcasm edged with the heavy breathing from the brief skirmish.

  He rolled her roughly onto her back and she could see him looming over her, blotting out the night with his large bulk. Thin, pale brown bangs hung loose over his forehead, defying the severe side part he normally wore. Ink-black eyes flickered with a bright spot of emotion before going dead again. A glimmer of victory, no doubt, because he knew he’d finally won.

  “I’m not angry that you ran,” he went on. “I know you were testing me. You had to be sure I was worthy. But all along, you knew you were meant to be mine.”

  Those words, so similar to ones spoken by her mates, sickened her stomach.

  He leaned closer and ran a hand over the top of her hair. “Even when you were running, you were leaving bread crumbs to make sure I could find you. Like when you used the motel phone to call the rental agency in Shay Falls.”

  Her eyes widened. She had used the phone in her room at the last motel, true, just after she’d tossed her original cell phone in a dumpster. She’d suspected he was somehow using that phone to track her.

  “You probably didn’t know the rental agency’s records are protected by an effective security protocol. But then I saw you getting out of the car at the supermarket today.”

  More tears blurred her vision of him. God, why had she left the cabin?

  “You picked such a quiet, isolated spot for us,” he went on, glancing around. “Thank you for that.”

  He believed it was her fate that he would kill her. And what if Jayson had been right about her conceiving during Zane’s fertile phase? The tragedy would be double.

  Regret and panic threatened to consume her, but she replaced them with rabid determination. She couldn’t let that happen. If she could just talk to Tyson, make him see he was wrong about her being the seventh.

  She nodded to acknowledge his thanks and spoke calm, quiet words behind the tape. He couldn’t understand her, of course, but he stopped and cocked his head while she kept up her bizarrely casual conversation. Then she forced herself to hold his gaze with a kind expression and smiled behind the tape.

  He sat back on his heels as he straddled her, staring oddly while she tried speaking again. He finally shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Her heart sped with hope when his fingers reached toward the tape, but they paused there. “If this is a trick so you can scream, don’t bother. The other cabins nearby are empty. I already checked.”

  Her heart skipped. Still, she nodded.

  Ripping the tape off stung sharply enough for her to cry out, but she somehow kept her composure. This was her last chance. She had to make it work.

  “You’re right about me,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. It didn’t work, but she was able to inject a flat, eerie monotone into the words. “I know you think I’m meant to be the seventh, and for a while, I believed I was too. I never thought that you were unworthy, though. I’m the one who’s unworthy.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not true.”

  “It is. I know that now. Killing me would ruin everything. You see, I wouldn’t be the seventh. I’d be the eighth.”

  Confusion was evident in his eyes and protruding brow.

  “I’m pregnant, Jonathan.”

  A certain truth rang through the bluff, even though she had no way of knowing for sure. Yet Jayson believed a tiny life could be forming inside her, and a cloud of sadness came with the thought. More than anything, she wanted to survive long enough to hold a baby in her arms. She knew that begging for her life wouldn’t work, but screwing up Tyson’s precious, all-important numbers just might.

  Or maybe it would make him angry.

  He stared down at her with his usual expressionless face, but he didn’t speak for some time. Clearly, this wasn’t an announcement he’d been prepared for. She resisted the urge to start babbling, compel him to see reason. This wasn’t a reasonable man.

  “You’re not showing.” Suddenly, his weight was off her and he knelt beside her, laying his head on her stomach. “I don’t hear anything.”

  She shuddered in revulsion and resisted the urge to buck away the cheek pressed so intimately against her belly. “The baby isn’t big enough yet. But I’m not lying.”

  He sat up. “Prove it.”

  An odd response, but it offered a flicker of hope. “I can’t,” she admitted. “I’m not far enough along.”

  A hint of a laugh followed. “Then you wouldn’t even know yourself.”

  “Yes I can. You know I’m a witch.” Something she’d tried revealing last time in hopes of playing on his superstitious nature. “I have ways of finding out things others can’t know.”

  And it was true, really. She could use tea readings, tarot cards, or divination. Even a ring or dowse held over her abdomen could give her the answer she sought. But none of that offered irrefutable proof.

  “Maybe.” He smiled suddenly. “But if it’s too soon for tests, then it doesn’t count. Don’t worry, Violet. It probably wouldn’t even have a heartbeat yet. You’ll still just be the seventh.”

  Her own heart nearly stopped.

  “Jonathan, listen to me,” she began in desperation as he stood up and bent over her. The click of his switchblade opening near her face silenced her.

  He grabbed her upper arms. “Let’s go inside.”

  She struggled and cried out in vain. She’d failed, and her cowboy and Indian wouldn’t be able ride in to save her in time. The good dream she’d been living had just become the nightmare—the last one she’d ever have.

  He’d just started lifting her upper half when Lana heard something crashing through the nearby woods. A streak of brown fur erupted from the bushes and took Tyson off his feet. Lana fell flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her. She wheezed and coughed while Tyson hit the ground close by. The animal on top of him was snarling and biting viciously, and Tyson screamed.

  Zane or Jayson had made it after all. Thank God.

  Lana did her best to wiggle her body away from the fight, which didn’t last long. There was an ugly crunch, like bone giving way beneath powerful jaws, and Tyson let out a high-pitched wail. Then he fell ominously silent.

  Blinking furiously to clear her eyes, she tried to see which of her mates had rescued her. The wolf s
wung around toward her, regarding her with gleaming yellow eyes. Red, stringy matter hung from his jaw, and a sweep of his tongue swept it up. Something was wrong with the picture, however. This wolf had brown fur. Zane’s was black, while Jayson’s was a soft, pale gray. No doubt others at the pack meeting had come along to help when Zane and Jayson had sensed her danger. This one had gotten to her first.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she said. “I take it you’re one of Jayson’s old pack mates.”

  The creature shuddered, and she laid there watching while bones shifted and fur retracted into naked human flesh. She shouldn’t stare, she knew, but she couldn’t help gaping at the phenomenon. The man who emerged had a sleek, well-toned body and sinewy arms. She glanced away from his bare cock quickly, but not before noticing it was jutting out somewhat. His was a body built for killing, and perhaps he enjoyed it a bit too much. From what she knew of the situation, Jayson’s old pack had endured a lot. It shouldn’t surprise her not all of them had come through it as solidly as he had. But she shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgment. He’d just rescued her, after all.

  It wasn’t until she glanced up at his face that she realized her mistake. His hair was an even wilder tangle of brown than the last time she’d seen it, but she recognized the werewolf who stood over her. She’d seen him before.

  “I know you,” she said in accusation. “You were in the parking lot this afternoon. You’re not one of Jayson’s old pack mates.”

  He flashed the same leering smile he’d given her during the confrontation at the market. “Oh, I’m one of his pack mates, all right. He and I go way back.” He gave a bow. “Avery Forrester. Didn’t catch your name earlier.”

  “You don’t need to know.” She began inching her body away, although it was a clumsy effort. “Why did you save me?”

  “Maybe I want you for myself.”

  He stared down at her with eyes that were still gold and gleaming with more than supernatural fire. He might have lost his fur, snout, and tail, but he appeared just as animal as when he’d been killing Tyson. She shuddered, trying not to think how easily he’d dispatched the cold-blooded murderer police had proven no match for.

  Jayson, Zane, she shouted loudly inside her head. Where are you?

  “I’ll admit I was damn surprised to find you out here screamin’ for help,” Avery went on. “Mighty convenient of another guy to get you all taped up.” He cocked his head and stepped over her, straddling her legs. “Question is, what do I do about it?”

  “You can let me go,” she spat out, rolling slightly to one side to get pressure off the wrists that were throbbing like hell. “Jayson and Zane will be here any minute to find out why I was so frightened.”

  “I was hopin’ you’d say that.” He leaned down and tugged her sweater away from her neck. She cried out, but he merely eyed her shoulder and pulled away. “I was right when I saw you before. They marked you.” He gave a satisfied grin. “That’s perfect.”

  “Stay back and they won’t hurt you,” she said, wondering if that was even true. “I’ll tell them you saved me from Tyson.”

  Avery shook his head. “They won’t be trottin’ along as soon as you think. See, they’re busy chasin’ after my brothers. Titus and Randall are leadin’ them down the mountain.”

  Her eyes widened. “To keep them away while you tracked my scent.”

  He winked. “Guess you’re smarter than they are.”

  A fresh new tidal wave of panic-strewn adrenaline flooded her, and she worked harder to shove herself out of reach. His cock gave an obscene jump as he sat down and pinned her legs beneath him. Her hands were going numb now that they were again trapped under the combined weight of their bodies.

  “Don’t fret, darlin’,” he said. “I did just save your life.”

  “Why bother?”

  “I’ll admit we toyed with the notion of killin’ you to teach Jayson a lesson. But we decided it’d be more effective to use you to convince him to join us. The question is, what do we do to pass the time while we’re waitin’?”

  “You can get this tape off me,” she tried.

  He laughed. “I don’t know. Watchin’ you wiggle around all bound up gives me other ideas that sound a lot more appealin’.”

  The song of baying wolves sounded in the distance. We’re coming for you, the wolves seemed to say. Hang on. But they were far off. They wouldn’t make it in time.

  “Please, just leave me alone,” she said.

  He smiled. “Make me.”

  Tears came in a fresh wave as she again tried to fight and squirm to get a man off her. He slid his hot, callused hands beneath her sweater and ran them over her belly.

  “Stop!” she shouted, her stomach turning over. “Don’t do this. They’ll be so angry they won’t ever join you.”

  He ignored her and gave her breasts a rough squeeze. “Oh, I think they will. And once we’re all in the same pack, you’ll be beggin’ me not to stop.”

  The sound of a shotgun chamber being racked froze him.

  “You heard the lady,” a cold, female voice said. “No means no, asshole.”

  “Jayel,” Lana called out in relief.

  Avery twisted around with a wicked grin. “I remember you from the night we took your worthless brother. My daddy wouldn’t let us keep you as a pet bitch for our pack.”

  “Get up and shut up,” she snapped. “Unless you’re so busy running your mouth you haven’t noticed I’m holding a fucking gun.”

  The murderous intent in her dark, gleaming eyes was enough to send a chill through Lana, but Avery gave a mocking cackle as he stood up. Jayel kept the shotgun barrel aimed square at his chest as he rose. His erection stayed stiff and ready, the wrinkled foreskin barely concealing the tip of his dick.

  He stood beside Lana and turned to Jayel. “Well now, ain’t you more of a badass than your snivelin’ brother? Seems we turned the wrong twin.”

  “I remember you too,” Jayel said. “Enough to know just how much I’m going to enjoy pumping a bullet in you.”

  Avery shook his head with a clucking sound. “Reckon you oughtn’t make threats you can’t deliver. Way I heard it, a gypsy made it so you can’t kill werewolves.”

  Now it was Jayel’s turn to smile, and the grin was so cold that Lana gave a shiver. “Yeah? Did you hear the part where I went to a witch coven and had that pesky curse lifted?”

  The shotgun blast roared through Lana’s head and took Avery off his feet. He landed beside her, lifeless eyes staring right at her. Foul-smelling smoke rose from the dark hole blown open in his chest.

  Jayel stalked up and stood over Avery’s body. “That’s for my family, you dead son of a bitch.” She spit on him and then met Lana’s gaze. “You all right?”

  Lana nodded. “You came back.” There was a quiver in her voice and a quietness that made her sound like a little girl.

  She shrugged. “I wanted to apologize, sort of.”

  “I’d say you sort of just did.”

  “Yeah.” She stared down at Avery. “It’s a good thing you told me how to break the curse.”

  “I didn’t, really. But I’m damn glad you figured it out.”

  Jayel glanced over and nodded at Tyson. “Who’s he?”

  “That’s the man I was running away from when I came to Shay Falls.”

  Jayel’s eyes widened. “The murderer?”

  “Yes. The other one—Avery Forrester—attacked him before turning on me.”

  Jayel shook her head. “Maybe you shouldn’t have given your magical braid protection to me. You’re quite the trouble magnet.”

  “I’m starting to think so.” Lana shifted position to ease the pain of a rock digging into her shoulder. “Think you could free my wrists and ankles?”

  Jayel was setting the gun down when a hand reached out and grabbed Lana’s arm. She whipped around to see Jonathan Tyson’s eyes on her. His face and chest were covered in blood, and his mouth moved as if he was trying to speak. He couldn’t form
any words, but he was alive enough for his red-stained fingers to dig firmly into her arm.

  Lana let out a shriek. “Jayel!”

  Jayel picked up her shotgun. “If he survived that attack, it means he’s got the curse now. He’s going to turn.”

  “Oh, no,” Lana said, wriggling away with wide eyes.

  Jayel headed for Tyson while racking a fresh round. “A serial killer werewolf? Hell fucking no.”

  The barrel went off just inches from his face, and his hand slipped off Lana’s arm and thudded to the ground. Lana tried to twist away from the blast, but the explosion whited out her view—and hearing—for a stretch. Her ears rang with a strange, high-pitched whine and she was spattered with blood. Jonathan Tyson’s blood. Slowly, she turned again, afraid to see those cold shark eyes boring through her. But they didn’t exist anymore.

  “It’s okay,” Jayel said. She pulled out her knife. “He’s gone now.”

  “Dead,” Lana repeated. “He’s never coming back?”

  “Not even as a werewolf. Silver to the heart will make sure of it.” With a vicious grunt, Jayel plunged the blade through his already bloodied chest.

  A sort of numb shock gave way to the realization that she was sandwiched between corpses. She began wriggling desperately. “Get me out of here,” Lana said. “Get me away from them. Please.”

  “Okay, okay.” Jayel set the gun down again and wiped her boot knife on Tyson’s shirt. “It’s all right. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

  That brought a flood of tears. She let them wash over her while Jayel cut the tape on her wrists and ankles.

  “Thank you,” Lana said. “Thank you for saving me.”

  Jayel pulled Lana to her feet, then grabbed on to her when Lana’s legs refused to hold her. “That’s what friends do, I guess.”

  Lana eyed her. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

  The woman paused before opening her mouth to answer, but howling from close by interrupted. Jayel shifted around to check the woods. Footsteps were audible now, many of them crashing fast through the underbrush. Jayel let go of Lana and ran for her gun.