CHAPTER EIGHT
They had driven for at least thirty minutes before Connor pulled off the main highway into a service station. Four gas pumps sat out in front of the store. The place was dimly lit by two street lamps, but the lights in the convenience store were bright and inviting.
“We need some fuel, and by the sound coming from your belly, I think it would be wise if you ate something. I won’t cuff you if you promise not to run off or cause a scene.”
She threw him a sarcastic glance. “What kind of a one-sided deal is that?”
“It’s not really a deal. It’s an offer.”
“It’s nice of you to let your prisoner eat.”
“Well, just imagine if you’d been arrested tonight for your involvement in that crime ring. Most jail cells around here won’t extend the same offer. They don’t care if you starve while you wait. Besides, women like you don’t belong in jail.”
She pressed her lips together and stared at him from between lids scrunched into a narrow glare. “Don’t be so quick to judge people you’ve only known for such a short time.”
“Have you got skeletons in your closet?” he asked.
“The only things I keep in my closet are clothes, not dead people.” She pulled back the door handle and started to exit the truck.
Connor darted around the truck to meet her. As he lifted the gas pump, he shot her a warning glance.
“It’s not like I have anywhere to run. This place is out in the middle of nowhere. If I call out for help, very few will hear me. If you really wanted to see me cause a scene, you should have stopped at a busier intersection,” she said.
“There’s a police station five miles west of here. Why don’t I drop you off there?”
“Don’t push your luck,” she grumbled.
He chuckled and swiped his card through the machine.
Antonia crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the truck as he pumped gas into the tank.
“Let’s make it quick,” Connor said, after returning the pump to the handle. “Get a snack and let’s head out.
“I need to use the restroom.”
“Don’t try anything foolish while you’re in there either.”
She rolled her eyes.
Some chimes rang above them as Connor opened the door for her.
The little convenience store looked barren and it was certainly quiet inside. She spotted a worker restocking the cooler in the back, and a cashier behind the registers in the front, but there was only one customer perusing the aisles.
Antonia headed in the direction of the restroom, fully expecting Connor to follow, but he didn’t. She still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t either a cop or connected to Cobra somehow because why else would he have any interest in her? What did he expect to learn from her if she knew so little?
But if this man got her out of a shooting spree without being killed in the crossfire or picked up by the police, he could very well be the man to help her get her brother back. Andrew had already entered the room down the hall before her back at the Dockhouse bar, but she had to believe that he was still alive. She could only hope that he’d escaped from both the cops and Cobra.
After relieving herself, Antonia washed her hands and exited the restroom. Connor wasn’t waiting right outside of the door either, but he was standing less than three feet away.
She observed as he threw two large bags of chips and four large tins of beef jerky in a shopping tote.
“Get what you like. We have two hours yet on the road before we get where we’re going,” he told her when she’d joined him near the shelf.
“And where would that be?”
“A safe and secure location. It’s only so we can ask you some questions. And you might want to lay low for a while until what happened back there is sorted out.”
“We? Who will be asking me questions?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss that right now, but whatever offer was made to you for the drop, I’m certain it will be tripled if you tell us what you know.”
An offer tripling what Cobra had extended to her and Andrew would last them a couple more months. If Andrew spent his cut wisely, it might even last them longer than that. But that was all fine and dandy until Cobra found out they’d never made the drop…if they ever found out. Maybe everyone except her brother were taken in by the cops and arrested. Maybe they, except for her brother, were all dead.
“You’re assuming that I want money,” she said.
“What do you want?”
Antonia nibbled at her bottom lip. There was a good chance Andrew had escaped just like her, but she couldn’t be certain unless she had concrete confirmation.
“I’ll need to make a phone call and think about it,” she replied.
“Grab some food. We’ll discuss more in the truck.”
As they stacked their items on the counter, Connor took out his wallet. With very few words spoken in broken English, the man at the cash register rung up their items.
Antonia’s attention reverted to the small television located just behind the cashier.
The hard plastic enclosure the television was posted behind was extra dingy, and she could barely see the screen, but when she strained to listen, she heard the news report loud and clear.
“Breaking news…Authorities are searching for two armed suspects: A man and a woman. The pair is wanted for questioning regarding the deadly shooting that broke out earlier inside the Dockhouse bar, a private nightclub north of the city. They were seen fleeing the bar by numerous bystanders. If you spot the pair, please call the local police authorities at …”
“Fuck,” Connor mumbled in a low growl beside her.
The news reporter went on…
“…Caucasian male. Over six-feet tall. Blond hair. He was last seen wearing a black, lightweight jacket. Young, African-American female. Short, slender in build. She was reported to be wearing a grey hooded jacket and carrying a black backpack.”
Antonia met Connor’s gaze. The expression on his face told her that he was just as suspicious as she was. Had the news reporter identified them? The descriptions were vague, but Antonia didn’t have to check herself to remember that she wore a gray hooded top, had a black backpack, and sported a full head of black tight curls.
By that time, the cashier’s movements had slowed to a snail’s pace as he looked from Antonia to Connor to the television and back again.
“What’s the holdup?” Connor grumbled.
The cashier’s eyes widened and then he dropped his gaze and rung up the rest of the items with lightning speed.
Connor slid some bills on the counter to pay for the food and he and Antonia each grabbed a bag and exited the store just as fast as they had come in.
When they got a glimpse of what was waiting for them on the other side for the door, they stopped dead in their tracks.
Right near the gas pumps stood two men and the ugliest Doberman Pinscher Antonia had ever seen.
She gasped when the dog growled and bucked against the leash holding him.
She felt Connor tense beside her as he raked his attention over the scene. He grabbed her arm and shoved her behind him.
The man holding the leash gave them a lethal grin before he bent down and let the dog loose.
Antonia’s breath and scream caught in her throat. A gush of air rushed past her, and that was when she realized that Connor had put major distance between them.
The Doberman charged toward them, but Connor rushed head on toward the animal. The atmosphere around her seemed to shift and vibrate, and the scene before her faded in and out. A visible spark of energy pulsed around Connor’s body until all she could make out were pieces of clothing flapping back as he charged.
In a matter of seconds, Connor, the man, had dissolved into thin air and out protruded the limbs and head of a wolf.
The minute she recognized that Connor had changed into a full-grown wolf was the same moment he collided violently with the Doberman
Pinscher.
Antonia couldn’t hold her scream in any longer. It tore through her throat and sliced through the night air like a freight train.
Her empty stomach churned as she witnessed the most vicious animal fight she had ever seen. Both wolf and dog moved lightning fast, and all she could make out was light tawny fur and black shiny fur in the rumble.
She hadn’t realized that she had scuttled backward until her back hit the glass door of the store. No matter how much she wanted to run, she could not tear her gaze away from the sight or cause her legs to move.
That didn’t stop one of the men from coming toward her while his dog had Connor occupied. She turned abruptly and jerked at the handles to try to enter the store for help, only to realize that the door was locked.
The bewildered eyes of the man who had rung them up stared back at her through the glass.
“Please open the door,” she screamed.
The cashier backed away slowly, his eyes focused on what was happening outside his store.
Please, she mouthed and jostled the handle.
The dimwit shook his head slowly. He was either too frightened to open the door or didn’t want to. Before she could fully process why, the man who had been coming toward her grabbed Antonia from behind.
She turned around and swung, catching him in the jaw with a left hook.
Her attacker grunted and came at her once again full force. She broke off running toward the truck, pumping her legs as fast as she could. Her chest burned with exertion as she ran, but she figured she’d rather pass out from exertion than have the attacker knock her out cold. She had already been kidnapped once today. Something told her that the two men and Doberman Pinscher were not there to save her ass.
Her fingertips briefly touched the car door, but then it was snatched away as her attacker caught the hood of her jacket and jerked her backward. She landed on her ass on the dusty ground, the force of the fall knocking the air right out of her.
She smelled gas and blood. She even tasted the hot metallic liquid in her mouth before realized that she had bit her tongue when her bottom had hit the ground.
Her attacker was a large brute of a man. He charged once again and leaned down to grab her. She kicked her foot out and caught him in the face once more.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed at him.
“Hit me again, bitch, and we’re going to have some serious problems,” the brute warned.
Antonia scrambled backward, scuttling to the driver’s side of the truck.
She caught sight of the fighting animals as she attempted to flee, and it finally dawned on her that Connor was in grave danger. The Doberman attacking him was a lethal opponent, and the blood pooling on the ground where they were fighting was a dead giveaway. The wolf Connor had changed into was twice as big as the dog, but the dog was twice as aggressive.
She rose to her feet and yanked the door to the truck open, but the brute shoved her again. This time, she collided with the large tin trashcan near the pumps.
He pulled a thick rope from his back pocket and made a loop, which appeared wide enough to trap her with. As he approached with the rope, she searched nearby for a weapon. Her attempts were cut short when he threw the rope over her body and tugged, squeezing her about the waist. She dry heaved. Courtesy of her empty stomach, nothing came up.
With what little strength she had left, she grabbed hold of the trashcan and hoisted herself up. The brute was much stronger and pulled the rope in an attempt to loosen her grip.
Antonia spotted a broken glass bottle in the trash and reached for it. Taking one last breath, she loosened her grip on the bin. As soon as they met in the middle, she raised the bottle and buried the broken end of the glass into his face.
The brute hollered in pain and clutched at his eyes where she’d stabbed him. She thrust the heel of her boot into his nuts, and he collapsed to the ground.
Tearing the car door open, she reached between the seats for her backpack. Her fingers trembled as she unzipped the enclosure to get her handgun.
A sharp pain crept up her back and she cried out.
“Where do you think you’re going with our shit, little girl?”
Antonia turned around to find the second man standing beside her with an iron rod.
He raised the object, but never got a chance to bring it down.
Connor’s familiar human form appeared behind the man. He grabbed the attacker by the head with both heads and snapped his neck. The man dropped to the ground, and all that remained was Connor. His clothes were ragged and torn with mostly just shreds left. There were bite marks and scrapes on almost every limb of his body. Eyes that reminded her of a wolf glared back at her. Pronounced canine teeth protruded from his gums as he grimaced in what appeared to be more pain than anger.
Panting and startled beyond reason, Antonia grabbed the handgun from between the seats and aimed it at Connor’s chest. Her finger trembled on the trigger as she sized up the human…no, the creature…before her.
His pained expression turned into something else entirely. Defeat, maybe? His brows came together in the center and he grimaced. In what? Distress?
“If you’re going to kill me, do it with one shot,” he told her.
His statement puzzled her, and the corners of her lips folded into a frown.
His presence began to overwhelm her in way she didn’t understand, and the tension began to leave her body.
“I’m…I’m…” she mumbled. She shifted her attention to the Doberman Pinscher lying dead in a puddle of blood on the ground. What the fuck was this guy? Who the fuck was this man? Was Connor a man at all?
As soon as she lowered the gun, he closed the distance between them and took the handgun away from her.
“You got hurt,” she said.
“It’s nothing,” he said quickly.
“But your arm…” She took hold of his right forearm and slid a finger over the ragged incision.
Antonia’s fingertips tingled where she’d touched him. Connor gasped, and she looked up just in time to see his blank stare replaced by a euphoric expression. Something foreign tore through her, consuming what little energy she had left. Heat rose between them, and an invisible energy tore through her. She’d experienced many emotions before in her lifetime, but this feeling and reaction, one that she obviously could not control, was a first for her. From the shocked look in his eyes, she could tell that he was just as puzzled by her body’s reaction to touching him as she was.
“Impossible,” he mumbled under his breath.
When Antonia looked down at his arm again, the jagged claw mark was gone. She shook her head and stumbled back away from him.
Some of the deep scratches on Connor’s torso also began to mend together and fade away, leaving only smudges of blood.
If this were some dream, she needed to wake up soon. The things she’d seen and witnessed tonight were beyond normal. She almost wondered if she had been drugged. She’d had one drink at the bar only to fit in, but that had only been cola. Had the brute hit her too hard across the back earlier?
Antonia swallowed down her disbelief and credited what she had seen to hallucinations.
“Are you okay?” Connor asked, placing one hand on her shoulder and a palm against the right side of her face.
“I think so.”
“We have to go, Antonia. Somewhere far from here. I want to help you. Do you understand that?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“Good.”
After helping her into the truck, he started the engine by the same means as before and sped off.
“Are you wearing a wire?”
“A what?”
“Are you wearing anything that contains a tracking device?” he demanded. “A cell phone. Your clothes?”
She shook her head. “No, they didn’t touch me or my brother. The bags were dropped on a bench near a park for us to pick up. We left our IDs, anything that would identify us, at home.”
&nb
sp; “Does the Luger belong to you?”
“Yes, I keep it most of the time for protection. It was a gift from my brother.”
He swooped up the bag in the middle of the floor and unzipped the large part. With one hand on the steering wheel, he pulled out an iron-encased box. “Is this the thing you were to deliver?”
She nodded.
“And what’s inside?”
“I don’t know. I just deliver.”
He brought the box up to eye level to inspect it. “It’s locked.”
Connor jostled the bag around, turned it upside down, and shook. Nothing else came out. He switched the light on overhead and turned the bag inside out.
“There.” Antonia pointed to an unusual black strip sewn to the inside seam of the bag. “There’s a wire.”
“It’s a live tap. That’s how they found us at the station. We’ve got to get rid of this bag.”
“Please do,” she said. “I don’t think I can handle any more deaths.”
He rolled the window down and tossed the bag out.
Connor didn’t drive the speed limit this time, and she almost wondered how he could manage at all with his injuries.
She glanced sideways at him, noting the way his wounds seemed to self-repair, and how new skin was now folded over the areas she’d known were covered in blatant bite and scratch marks from the Doberman.
“What is going on with your body?” she asked slowly.
“I’m a wolf shifter of Caedmon blood. Our gifts give us the ability to self-heal about twenty times faster than a human. I’m sorry you had to endure what happened back there, but I had to shift to save you.”
“That wasn’t the first time I’ve seen a man change into a wolf.”
He turned swiftly to look at her. He was silent for a moment as his gaze shifted from the highway to her. “Would you mind telling me when you first saw something like this?”
“I was nineteen. My brother and I were homeless at the time. You see a lot of things at night—strange things—when your misfortunes lead you to live on the streets.”
“On the streets? Do you mind telling me about your misfortunes?” His voice was strained with tension as he asked her this question.
Wolf’s Honor: Caedmon Wolves Book Six Page 5