Finding Chrissten l(-5

by N. J. Walters

  “How did you find me?” Brian had a huge ego. She needed to get him talking about himself.

  He shrugged. “Took a while, but someone’s been searching for us, tracking our property on various online databases. We simply started following the trail back. We hit some dead ends and came up with some possibilities. We checked the newspapers and found an interesting story about an incident last year. Didn’t take much effort to have a look and put it all together.”

  His eyes darkened and the expression on his face was feral. “Just because we’re wolves doesn’t mean we’re idiots. My second in command is quite the computer wizard. William’s been alive over a hundred years and has been studying computers since their inception.”

  Craig hadn’t covered his tracks well enough, even though he was an experienced hacker. Most purebloods didn’t like modern technology, but learned what they needed in order to get by. Their skills weren’t much different from the average human. It should have occurred to them that Brian and his pack might have a computer wiz too.

  “I knew another pack had helped you escape from Doctor Morton. They’ll all pay for that. I’m going to take both of you back to the pack. You’re mine, but the rest of my wolves can share this one.” He jerked on Bethany’s throat again.

  Chrissten couldn’t help but see Bethany’s pale, frightened face. She couldn’t let Brian take both of them.

  “How are you going to get both of us out of here? Someone will be up to check on us any minute.”

  “I don’t think so.” She could see the cunning in his face and an icy finger of fear scraped down her spine.

  “What have you done?”

  He laughed again. “Just a small diversion.”

  As if on cue, Chrissten heard the distant sound of breaking glass followed by a scream. Something was happening in the bar. Brian’s attention was momentarily diverted to the noise below and not on the two women.

  Chrissten didn’t hesitate. She partially shifted—claws forming on her hands and large fangs dropping from her jaw—and launched herself at her mate. Bethany saw what she was doing and picked up her feet, letting her full weight fall on Brian’s arm. He wasn’t expecting it and his arm jerked downward.

  It all happened at once. Bethany clawed at his forearm and managed to slip away. Chrissten jumped and hit Brian straight in the chest, knocking him back. She’d seen the instant of surprise in his face. She hadn’t been able to shift for the last months she’d been in captivity, and he obviously hadn’t been expecting a partial shift.

  He tossed her aside as though she weighed next to nothing. She shifted back in midair and yelled at Bethany. “Run!”

  Her friend didn’t hesitate, but bolted for the door. Brian was caught between the two of them. If he went after Bethany, he’d lose her. Bethany’s shoes pounded against the stairs as she raced down them. Time had run out.

  “Me or her,” she taunted. “You can’t have us both.” She rolled back to her feet, hands in front of her, ready to fight.

  “I’ll come back for the bitch.” He stalked toward her. She backed up until the wall stopped her. She had no gun, no knife. No weapons other than her brain and her body. She’d meant to get one but there was no time now. She was facing Brian alone.

  He struck out, his big fist connecting to the side of her face. She tried to avoid him but there was nowhere for her to go. She managed to turn her head and took a glancing blow rather than a full-on one. It was still a powerful hit and she saw stars. She brought her knee up fast and hard, hitting him where it would hurt the most. He doubled over and roared with pain. His next punch hit her with the force of a sledgehammer. Everything went dark.

  Hank noticed the two punks who came into the bar. He knew their type—young and cocky and looking for a fight. They were also packing weapons. He’d turned away from the door for a second, distracted by woman yelling at her boyfriend and the two had snuck in. He headed after them. He’d show them the door. They didn’t have trouble at Haven, which was one of the reasons the bar was so popular.

  He almost reached them. As if sensing him, the one on the right whirled around and smiled at him. Something was off, but Hank didn’t have time to figure out what it was. The second guy grabbed an empty chair and heaved it through the bar’s large glass window. The crash silenced everyone for a split second. Then the club erupted with life. Several women screamed and people began to hustle for the door. Michael sailed over the bar, coming to help him.

  Hank grabbed one of the guys just as he reached beneath his shirt and grabbed a gun. He didn’t get a chance to fire it. This guy was human and Hank wasn’t. He moved with preternatural speed, yanking the guy’s arm up and back. The bone snapped. The punk yelled and Hank grabbed the weapon.

  Michael had already reached the second man and had subdued him. Benjamin was calming the crowd with Quinn’s help. Kevin was on the phone, probably to the cops. Just what they didn’t need or want. Still, it could have been worse. The punks could have hurt one of their patrons.

  Isaiah and his brother came out from the office area and surveyed the situation. He could read his alpha’s expression as easily as he could his own. This was going to slow down their hunt tonight. Sirens sounded in the distance.

  Isaiah stalked toward the troublemakers. The guy Hank was holding was moaning and groaning like a baby. Hank shoved him into the nearest chair. “Stay.”

  He held the gun up by the end, using the tips of his fingers. “Here’s his weapon.”

  Isaiah took it from him, holding it the same way so they wouldn’t smear the fingerprints. “Tell Craig we’ll need the security tapes for the cops. The quicker we handle this the faster they’ll be gone.”

  “I’m on it.” Hank left his alpha to deal with the authorities. He figured they had at least a ten to twenty minutes wait.

  He was just heading toward the office when he heard footsteps pounding down the stairs. Probably Bethany and Chrissten wondering what was going on. He detoured toward the door, wanting to be there to reassure Chrissten that everything was okay.

  But it was Bethany who burst through the door and she was alone. Terror filled her eyes and she was out of breath. Hank grabbed her. “What?”

  “Chrissten.” She pointed up the stairs. “Brian has her.”

  Hank swore and started for the stairs just as the piercing sirens stopped and several policemen poured into the room. Great, for once the cops weren’t delayed. They were going to want to talk with him but he couldn’t afford to wait. “Tell Isaiah,” he ordered Bethany.

  He slipped out the door, closed it behind him and raced up the stairs. Terror, unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life, filled him. Brian had found Chrissten and taken her.

  He’d promised her she’d be safe here and he’d failed.

  All of his senses were on high alert as he entered his apartment. He could smell the other male, arrogance with a heavy dose of power. A tinge of fear and blood overlay the stench. Hank growled as he prowled the room. How had the other man gotten in?

  He left the room and backtracked to the corridor outside the apartment. He hadn’t come up from down below and none of the windows had been tampered with, so that left only one direction. Up.

  The roof. It was the only truly vulnerable area.

  Hank strode toward the narrow stairs that led to the roof. When he looked up, he swore. The hatch was open and the cool night air was blowing in. Hank pulled out his cell phone as he hurried back to his apartment. Craig answered on the first ring.

  He didn’t bother to mince words. “Your sister is gone. Brian’s taken her.” He ignored Craig’s cry of despair and his questions. “Listen. Listen to me,” he repeated when Craig kept talking. “Shut up and call Damek. I need to know where Brian and his pack are and I need to know now. The ruckus downstairs was an obvious diversion, but Isaiah and the rest of them are going to be tied with the cops for a while. That leaves me to find your sister. The rest of them can follow when they finish below.”

  �
�Okay. Okay.” Craig’s voice was shaky but he was in control. “I’ll call you back.”

  “I’ll be on the move. Don’t worry. I’ll get her back.”

  “I know.” Craig’s faith steadied him. He’d made both Chrissten and her brother a promise and he planned on keeping it. He’d never failed on a mission and he wasn’t about to start now.

  He went to his closet and pushed aside his clothing to reveal a locked panel. He pushed in the code and the lock gave. He pulled the door open to reveal a fully loaded weapons locker. He grabbed several silver knives, a handgun with silver-coated bullets and his sniper rifle. He didn’t know what he’d be facing when he found Chrissten.

  He grabbed a bag and shoved extra rounds of ammo and some C4, blasting caps and wire into it. Just in case he had to blow up something. He liked to be prepared.

  When he had everything he thought he might need, he quickly changed his clothing. He stripped and pulled on a pair of dark pants, a dark shirt and his sneakers. Nothing extra in case he needed to shift in a hurry.

  He grabbed the bag and strode down the hall. His destination was Kevin’s apartment and the fire escape. The door was unlocked and Hank pushed his way inside, his strides long and hurried. He unlocked the window and yanked it up, paused long enough to make certain the coast was clear and then he was out, hurrying down the metal stairs to the ground below.

  His phone rang just as his feet hit the dirt in the alleyway. “Talk to me.”

  He listened as Craig gave him a location and instructions on how to get there. “The others will follow as soon as the cops finish here.” He hesitated. “I don’t think Damek is going to be able to help.”

  “Thanks.” He started walking and looking for a cab to take him to his destination. He saw one and raised his hand to get the driver’s attention.

  “Get her back.” He could hear the sheer desperation in Craig’s voice.

  “I will,” he promised. He’d get her back or die trying.

  Hank disconnected his phone and set it to vibrate so it wouldn’t ring at an inopportune moment. He was on his own and that was fine with him. He didn’t have time to wait for anyone.

  His woman needed him.

  Chrissten’s head was throbbing and she felt nauseated. She swallowed a groan, trying to order her jumbled thoughts. Brian. He’d found her. He’d come for her just like she’d known he would. She wished she’d had more time with Hank and her family, had hoped to be able to hunt Brian before he found her.

  She lay still, not moving an inch while she struggled to pay attention to her surroundings. It was easy to pretend she was still unconscious. She wasn’t far from it. Only fear of what Brian might do to her kept her from slipping back into total darkness. It was safe there. No pain. No worries.

  But Chrissten was a fighter. It wasn’t in her to simply give up. Plus, there was her family to think about. Brian knew where they were. There was nothing to stop him from going back to Haven once he stashed her somewhere. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Adrenaline raced through her veins, giving her a much-needed boost of energy. She was cold and her body was vibrating. No, that wasn’t quite right. She wasn’t vibrating, but what she was lying on was. A vehicle. She was in a vehicle of some sort being transported somewhere. There was still time. Her hands were bound behind her, the heavy ropes biting into her skin, cutting off her circulation. The same rope was also wrapped around her ankles.

  She dared to open her eyes a crack, trying to orient herself. Was Brian driving? Was he alone?

  Concentrate, she ordered herself. She took a low breath and inhaled the scents around her. Gasoline, motor oil, metal, sweat, and beneath it all a musky male smell she recognized all too well. Brian. She beat down the terror that threatened to overwhelm her and sniffed again.

  It was difficult to center herself with the pain pounding in her head and all down the right side of her body. Obviously, her mate hadn’t been careful when he’d dumped her in the vehicle. She couldn’t tell if it was a van or an SUV. Definitely wasn’t a car.

  Chrissten was certain it was just the two of them. There would be more of them when they reached wherever they were going. Now that she knew Brian was driving, she opened her eyes fully and looked around. A van. Okay, she was in a van somewhere in Chicago.

  She had to escape. She couldn’t let him take her back to his pack. There was no way Brian wouldn’t punish her for escaping him and turning to another. She knew him. Knew his ego and pride. No way he couldn’t smell another male on her. She was surprised he hadn’t mentioned it.

  As quietly as she could, she inched her way toward the doors at the end of the van. Maybe she could open them. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were bound, but she still had the use of her legs. With her preternatural strength she might be able to kick the doors open. If she managed that, she could roll out of the vehicle and maybe attract attention to herself. It would hurt like hell, but it hopefully wouldn’t kill her. It was her only chance.

  “I know you’re awake.” Brian’s voice froze her in place. “I heard the change in your breathing,” he continued, his tone one of calm conversation. Chrissten wasn’t fooled one bit. He was on the verge of a murderous rage. It was always this way with him. The calmer he seemed the more violent he got.

  There was no reason to wait. She had nothing left to lose. Chrissten rolled to the end of the van, placed her feet on the doors, pulled back her legs and struck. Pain radiated up her shins and thighs. The door didn’t budge. She did it again and again. Why wasn’t it working? She wasn’t even making a dent in it.

  “Reinforced steel.” He made a tsking sound under his breath. “Really, Chrissten. You continually underestimate me.”

  “What do you want?” Desperation filled her. She couldn’t get out. It was her prison all over again, being controlled by others.

  Hank’s face filled her mind. He would come for her. Quinn would come for her. Bethany had escaped and she would tell them. She vacillated between being hopeful they’d come and being terrified they actually would. They could both be hurt.

  “What do I want?” Brian tapped his fingers on the edge of the steering wheel. “My mate for one. You belong to me. I say what you can or cannot do. Who you can or cannot fuck.”

  Chrissten sucked in a breath. She didn’t want to talk about Hank. Didn’t want Brian’s attention on him. “I don’t belong to you.”

  The tension in the vehicle ratcheted up a notch. Brian glanced over his shoulder to glare at her, his eyes practically glowing red in the dark. His wolf was very near the surface.

  “I claimed you. You’re mine.”

  It was as simple as that to him. He didn’t care about her any more than he would this van or a piece of property. That’s what she was to him. It would never occur to him to even be concerned about what she wanted. His life revolved around him and him alone.

  “I can smell that other wolf on you. I know his scent now. When I’m done with you I’m going back for your lover.”

  Oh God, what had she done? She knew she shouldn’t have slept with Hank. Now his life was in danger because of it. She had to find a way to kill Brian before he killed her.

  “What are you going to do?” She really didn’t want to know but figured it was smarter to keep him talking. Maybe she could figure some way out of this.

  Brian laughed and the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. Her wolf whimpered inside her. “You’ll find out.” With that ominous promise, Brian stopped talking and concentrated on driving.

  Chrissten’s mind worked furiously. There had to be something she could do. She tugged at the bindings around her wrists. The ropes were thick and tight. Given more time, she could probably work them loose. But time was running out.

  Ignoring the pain shooting down her arms, she pulled at the ropes while she prayed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hank sat as still as a stone in the back seat of the cab as it sped through the busy streets toward his destination on th
e South Side. The red lights lasted forever and he practiced counting and deep breathing every time they had to stop to keep from going crazy.

  Chrissten was out there alone with her mate, the crazy fucker who’d used force to claim her.

  Emotion bubbled up deep within him, but he slammed the lid back down on it. He wouldn’t do her any good if he went into this situation guns blazing. He needed to be calm and calculated. He was good at that. It was what had made him an exceptional sniper. An exceptional soldier. Patience. Cunning. Skill. He had all three. He just had to remember to use them.

  The cabbie had tried to engage him in conversation but had quickly realized he was fighting a losing battle. Hank didn’t want to talk. He needed to think. Plan. And pray. He only hoped Chrissten was where Damek said she would be. If she wasn’t— He broke off, not willing to finish that thought.

  His phone vibrated and he yanked it out of his pocket. “Yeah.”

  “Where the hell are you?” Quinn’s voice was clipped.

  “On my way to get Chrissten.”

  Quinn swore. “Why didn’t you wait?”

  “No time.” Hank wondered if Bethany had told Quinn about him and Chrissten. He decided to lay it all on the line. He had nothing to hide. “Chrissten is mine.”

  Quinn swore. “We’ll talk about that later.”

  “Nothing to talk about.” That wasn’t quite true, but the only ones who needed to talk were he and Chrissten. The rest of them could keep out of it.

  Pure steel coated Quinn’s words. “I said we’d talk about it.” Translation, they’d fight when there was time to settle it.

  “Whatever.” Hank wasn’t afraid of Quinn or any other male. Chrissten was his. Case closed. If it took him a hundred years to convince her of that, he would. Patience was the key.

  Hank could hear rustling on the other end and changed the subject. “What’s going on?”