by Brenda Trim
Anger pulsed hot as Ryan thought about the way others perceived him. It boiled out of control to the point he stood up and snatched the bedside table, hurling it across the cell. A loud crack echoed when it smacked into the iron bars, and the wood splintered into several pieces. Ryan roared his fury, pounding his fists against his bare chest. He needed to get the fuck out of this cage before he lost his mind.
His eyes darted around the small space, looking for anything that might help him escape. He stalked to the metal door of his cell and inspected the lock. It was a traditional electromechanical lock found on most prison cells. A key was used to open it, but Ryan had only seen Liv with the key.
He quickly scanned the room again, looking for something to pick the lock. He noticed a broken lamp laying by the bed. When he’d grabbed the nightstand, it fell to the cement floor, causing the lampshade to pop off the top. It left the metal harp and socket exposed, and he eyed it carefully. That might be the solution he was searching for, Ryan thought as he made his way to the light fixture.
Squatting on the floor, Ryan disassembled the metal housing. He needed two small pieces. One to act as a tension wrench and the other for the pick. He managed to find a couple of pieces he felt were sturdy enough to handle the task then stripped the metal with ease. Again, he was impressed with his strength. Not that shifters were weak, but the power he felt now overshadowed what his wolf provided.
Ryan’s head snapped toward the door when he heard the click of the lock. Staci, Liv’s right hand at Smith & Kimbro, walked into the room carrying a tray. She smiled his way, despite the fear wafting from her body.
“Hi. How are you?” Staci greeted as she eyed him warily.
Ryan knew his features frightened the female and a leer spread across his face. The Ravin enjoyed when its large canines made a grand appearance for the human.
Staci gulped and paused momentarily. He watched her eyes roam to the broken furniture in his cell. She let out a sigh and met his gaze. “Well, that makes three. Do you have something against nightstands?” she muttered with a shaky laugh.
“Let me out, and you won’t have to worry about it,” he snarled. His raspy voice was still unfamiliar, but he appreciated the effect it had on the female.
“Sorry. No can do. Remember? We’re trying to help you, Ryan. Your family wants you back home with them,” Staci explained.
Ryan grunted and went back to his tinkering. He turned his body to hide the objects he was working on. The last thing he needed was to have her tattle to his brother.
“What are you doing? I could bring in some projects if you tell me what you enjoy. That way, you wouldn’t have to destroy your room,” she offered as she cautiously made her way to the desk near his cell.
He didn’t bother replying to her absurd comment. What the fuck did she think this was? A day-camp filled with fun activities?
A small tote swung by her side, and Ryan detected the scent of salami, ham, and fresh bread. He guessed there was an Italian sub inside the bag. His snout wrinkled in disgust. He didn’t want that processed bullshit. He was hungry, and his Ravin needed to hunt for his food. He preferred fresh meat to the crap they made these days.
His gaze immediately roved her body. Staci was an average female with curves that all males admired. There was a time when he would think of nothing but getting inside her panties. Now, he wanted to tear into her supple flesh and taste her warm blood. Did that make him a monster? No. It made him a predator. And she was his prey. It was a natural part of life as far as he was concerned. Did humans punish lions for hunting gazelle in the Serengeti?
“Has Cassie been by lately?” she hedged as she placed the tray and tote on the desk then boldly met his gaze despite her fear.
Ryan glared her way but said nothing. Was she trying to make pleasant conversation? If so, she weren’t succeeding. He had no desire to discuss Cassie with her. If Staci wasn’t careful, he would rip her to shreds when he escaped.
His thoughts inadvertently went to Cassie. He hadn’t seen her since they brought him to Liv’s lab. He imagined she was pissed after he grabbed her by the throat, but he couldn’t listen to her rant about releasing her precious Ryan. Ryan was just fine, and she needed to accept that. He may look different now, but that didn’t mean he should be locked in a prison cell and treated like a common criminal.
Ryan recalled the last time he visited Cassie at her home. He went to her in human form. He planned to convince her that turning Ravin was a good thing and that they could still be together. He acknowledged he mainly went because his body needed a release. It had been weeks since he’d been with her, and Ryan was accustomed to sex regularly. It was one thing he and Cassie had in common. She was the first female Ryan had encountered with a similar sexual appetite. That was probably why he liked her so much.
Their visit started out great. Ryan admitted to her that he missed her which was the truth. Said he needed her, which was also true. But as soon as they started messing around, the scent of the Packard males bombarded his senses, and he lost control. Accused her of fucking them, despite the fact he didn’t smell their arousal on her body.
Cassie belonged to Ryan. It was a punch in the gut to think of her with another male. He knew the only reason she smelled like the males was because she spent the night at the Packard cabin with Liv, but all rational thought disintegrated when he visualized her having sex with the two males.
As he spat hateful words, Cassie’s pained expression told Ryan his words were hurtful, but he didn’t apologize. Then her hurt morphed to anger. When Cassie slapped him, he almost attacked. It would’ve been fatal if he had, and the last thing he wanted was to kill her. It took every ounce of control to turn around and leave, but that’s precisely what he did.
Staci’s soft voice interrupted his musings. “Ryan, I need to give you a blood transfusion,” she informed him. He glanced over at the tray of supplies. “It’s for your benefit,” she added.
A menacing laugh escaped his throat. “How ironic. Holding me captive while claiming to help me,” he snarled.
“It’s the truth. The more infusions in your system, the better. I would like nothing more than to see you walk out of that cell, but I need your cooperation,” Staci explained as she lifted a syringe and held it between her thumb and finger.
“Oh, I’ll cooperate,” he offered, and went to his bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Come and get it,” he goaded while he offered his arm. Ryan knew the only way she could administer the shot from that distance was to walk inside his cell.
Staci tilted her head and pursed her lips. “Very funny. Would you please come over here? It’ll take five seconds then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Ryan heard her heart rate increase. It sounded like a galloping horse to his sensitive ears. “Come closer, my dear. I can barely hear you,” he muttered on a chuckle. If he could persuade her into his space, she was a goner.
Staci took several steps and stopped when she reached the bars. “Meet me halfway,” she countered.
“Closer,” he whispered.
“I can’t get any closer,” she refuted, but Ryan sensed her curiosity.
She was considering his invitation. This was his best opportunity to feed and get out of the cell. Evidently the female needed incentive. Ryan reached deep and allowed his human form to surface. He knew females appreciated his features, and Staci was no exception. Her eyes widened as she took in his muscular form.
“Yes, you can. Unlock the door,” Ryan persuaded, his gaze never leaving hers.
“It’s too risky,” she confessed as she reached into her lab coat pocket and pulled out a key. Ryan was certain that was the key to his cell.
As if deciding against it, Staci quickly shoved the object back into her pocket then leaned her forehead against the metal bars. She wasn’t ready to unlock the door, but her willpower was slipping. He could taste sweet freedom on his lips.
Turning on the charm, Ryan murmured, “You strike me as the type w
ho likes playing with fire, Staci.” His gaze raked over her body, and he licked his lips in appreciation. “Unlock that door and let’s strike a match,” he said and winked.
Blush stained her cheeks, and Staci lowered her head. “You’re teasing me. I know you’re involved with Cassie,” the female admitted but chanced a glance his way.
“Cassie doesn’t understand what I’m going through. She wants nothing to do with the new me. You’re different. I can tell there’s no judgment from you,” he said as he got up from the bed and strode toward her.
Staci’s blue eyes filled with desire as he slowly made his way to the bars. The Ravin was clawing at his insides, wanting to take control, and his wolf growled, demanding Ryan shift. He shook his head, trying to focus on his task. He didn’t need this inner turmoil. His goal was to seduce Staci and get the fuck out of the cell.
“You certainly don’t seem like what Liv described to me. Maybe the infusions are helping,” she muttered as Ryan stopped in front of her and reached between the bars to cup Staci’s face.
“Possibly. Right now, I’m just a male craving a kiss from your irresistible lips, Staci,” Ryan whispered and leaned his head down until their lips were scant inches apart. There was barely enough space between the bars, but he knew she was taking the bait.
She closed her eyes and went on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his. Ryan took advantage, coaxing her mouth to part as his hand trailed along her jaw then lower to her throat. Staci moaned, and Ryan slipped his tongue inside her mouth. He tasted fear, lust, and elation as he took control of the kiss.
As soon as the Ravin detected the female’s mix of emotions, claws extended from Ryan’s fingertips and tightened its grip on Staci’s throat. It would be so easy to snap her neck. His body trembled at the thought. It was such a rush, and the temptation was hard to ignore, but he needed that fucking key in her pocket.
Staci’s eyes popped open when his sharp talons dug into her flesh. The scent of copper filled his nostrils, and the Ravin pushed through the mental barrier.
Staci gasped when she realized what was happening. The creature pulled back, enjoying the terror rushing through her veins.
“You silly girl,” he sneered as fur exploded from his pores, and his snout elongated. Canines burst from his gums, and he squeezed her throat to the point she was choking. Her face turned red, and Ryan heard her heart pounding against her chest. “Now, give me that key,” he growled.
The Ravin wanted to feel her heart beat its last thump. The pulse against his fingers was erratic, and blood trailed down her neck. It was an invitation the beast couldn’t resist.
Lowering his head, Ryan’s tongue swiped across her flesh, lapping at the crimson fluid. A rush, similar to an orgasm, blasted through his body. Ryan pulled her closer. His claws raked her skin, and the result was a stream of blood which he quickly consumed.
He wanted more and envisioned slicing her in two. If her blood was this satisfying, the Ravin could only imagine the gratification of feasting on her insides.
Lost to the rapture, he forgot about the key and the syringe in Staci’s hand. Until the sharp tip punctured his side. The blow caused him to release his hold, and she pressed the plunger, forcing the blood into his body. She quickly backed away from him, hands wrapped around her injured neck.
“Looks like I get the last laugh. Fool me once, shame on you. It won’t happen twice, Ryan,” Staci spat and rushed from the room.
He roared his rage and grabbed the metal cage, shaking it with all his might. He was strong, but the iron cell held its own against him. Damn thing was indestructible. He punched the air, imagining it was his brother’s face. Why was Lawson doing this? Couldn’t his brother see he didn’t want or need his help?
He stalked back to the bed and picked up the mattress then flung it across the small space. It landed with a thud, and Ryan grabbed the metal bed frame. With both hands on the railing, he wailed his frustration as he bent the structure until it was a mangled mess then tossed it aside.
If they wanted to treat him like a wild animal, he’d give them what they expected.
Chapter 4
Bart glanced from his paperwork to the conference door when it opened. Patricia walked in and nodded his way. “Mr. Smith, your nine o’clock guests have arrived,” she announced and held the door open for his investigative team.
Patricia was dressed in typical fashion, which consisted of various colored pantsuits, and her dark hair was arranged in a tight bun at the back of her head. She was by far the best assistant known to man, and Bart acknowledged he couldn’t manage a single day without her by his side. She handled his personal affairs better than most of his staff performed their appointed duties. In fact, if he weren’t so selfish, he’d recommend she run for office. She was that proficient.
“Thank you, Patricia,” Bart replied and set his folder aside. He stood and walked toward the small group. “Dean, Michael, Kelly, Trina. Thank you for coming so early. I hope traffic wasn’t too brutal,” he said in greeting and shook hands with each of them before motioning toward the large conference table. “Please, have a seat.”
“Brutal would be an understatement, but that’s Chattanooga for you,” Kelly replied as everyone selected a chair and sat down. Kelly took the seat on his right. “It’s good to see you again,” she muttered low enough that only Bart heard.
He glanced over, and she smiled seductively. Bart politely returned the grin and took his seat. It was no secret she was interested in him. Hell, the first time he met Kelly, she practically threw herself at him. Granted, she was drunk, but still. Every man preferred a challenge, and Kelly was a little too available for his taste.
“Mr. Smith, if that is all, I’ll check on breakfast. Coffee or juice, anyone?” Patricia asked.
“Coffee, please. In fact, just bring the pot and pour it down my throat,” Dean commented, and the others laughed.
“Juice, please,” Trina and Kelly chimed simultaneously.
“Water,” Michael muttered as he opened his laptop and began typing on the keyboard.
“Got it. Water, two juices, and a barrel of coffee,” Patricia joked then excused herself from the room.
“Thank you, Patricia,” Bart said to her retreating back. “Alright then. Let’s get down to business. What do you have for me?” Bart asked and clasped his hands on the mahogany table.
Trina reached inside her tote and pulled out a folder then slid a paper across the table to Bart. He picked up the document and stared at it. It was the list of facilities Liv and Lawson had provided to him.
“As you can see, I highlighted the locations we visited. Of the fifteen, we’ve checked eleven. The remaining four are scheduled for next week,” Trina explained as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“Oh, wow. That was fast. I didn’t expect you to cover half of these in that time frame. Thank you for making this top priority,” Bart replied as he looked over the notes written on the sheet of paper.
“Well, the reason we covered so much territory is because there was nothing to report,” Michael interjected as he closed his laptop.
His deep voice echoed through the room, and Bart did a double-take. He’d been around the guy dozens of times, but it still took him by surprise when he spoke. His slim build and baby face made you think he was barely old enough to drink alcohol, yet he sounded like James Earl Jones with his bass vocal cords.
“Nothing at all?” Bart asked skeptically. Bart witnessed Jim Jensen’s savage behavior against Liv and knew she’d never lie to him. She was terrified when she discovered the captive shifters.
“Basically,” Kelly added. “Most of the facilities were shut down permanently. The few that were open were selling off the medical equipment and inside furnishings.”
Bart sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you found nothing? No shifters in captivity or being abused?”
“Nope. I guess that’s a good thing, huh?” asked Dean as he reached up and rubbed hi
s goatee.
Bart chewed on the inside of his mouth as he pondered the information. “Yeah, I suppose. It just doesn’t make sense. Did you ask about Jim Jensen?” he inquired. He knew Jensen was dead, but he wondered what his employees were saying about his absence.
Just then, Patricia walked in, carrying a platter filled with coffee, creamer, sugar, and cups. Several staff members followed her into the room, carrying trays of various food items. Patricia served each guest and asked if anyone needed anything else then she and the staff exited the room.
“Oh, my, God. These are the best biscuits I’ve ever tasted. I need this recipe,” Trina blurted and covered her overstuffed mouth.
“Good luck with that,” Bart teased. “I’ve known Patricia for ten years, and she has yet to share that family secret with anyone. Anyway, what did you learn about Jim Jensen’s whereabouts?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I got distracted by the biscuits. So, one interesting tidbit from our investigation was Jim Jensen’s wife. Elaine is a strange one,” Trina offered as she shoved more biscuit in her mouth.
“How so?” Bart asked. He recalled Liv saying she felt sorry for the woman because she was certain Jim cheated on her at every opportunity.
“Well, considering her husband is presumed dead at this point, she didn’t appear fazed by it. When we questioned her about Jim she nonchalantly said, and I quote, ‘He’s probably living in Fiji with some twenty-two-year-old,’ as she cozied up to a man that looked half her age. What a hypocrite,” Kelly relayed as she nibbled on a blueberry muffin.
Why wasn’t Jim’s wife more concerned? Liv must have been right about the guy. But what about the wife cozying up to a younger man? Perhaps she took a page out of her husband’s book, or was it something more?
“That is interesting,” Bart agreed and took another sip of coffee.
It was his second cup of the day, which was rare. Typically, it was one cup before his morning workout to get the boost of energy needed, but today he missed his five-mile run because of the early meeting and felt like he was moving in slow motion. Hopefully, the extra caffeine kicked in soon.