by Anna Lowe
“Janna Macks,” he said coolly. “Such a pleasure to see you again.”
“You,” she blurted.
The man smiled and waved her captors away with a hundred dollar bill. “We’ll take it from here, boys.”
Janna backed away. The three men who’d hauled her outside were one thing. But this…this new enemy put ice in her blood.
Even in the dim light of the alley, she could make out the blue rings tattooed on their fingers. Blue Bloods. The rogue band who’d murdered her family and attacked the saloon not long before. Five of them.
“Seems you still haven’t learned your lesson.” Victor Whyte, the leader of the Blue Bloods, shook his head sadly. Then his face twisted into one of sheer malice. He grabbed her hair and twisted it, forcing her to her knees. “We’re here to teach you. The hard way.”
He pulled her head back — so far back, she could see the moon overhead. So far back, it was a wonder her neck didn’t snap.
God, he was going to kill her here. Now.
“You said we’d get a chance to play with her first,” one of the rogues gathered in the alley protested.
Play? She winced. She’d rather die quickly than endure what they had in mind.
She yanked at the belt tying her hands and felt it give slightly. If she could stall for a few minutes, she might be able to get it off. But Jesus, she didn’t have minutes. She had seconds, at best.
She drew in a huge gulp of air and screamed into the night. Drawing help — any help — was her only chance.
The big man behind her smacked his hand over her mouth a second too late, and they all stood, listening for a reaction for a moment or two.
“We kill her,” the leader hissed. “Now—”
He turned at the sound of hurried footsteps pounding into earshot. A tall figure appeared at the end of the alley, silhouetted by a dim streetlight.
Janna’s hope sparked, then faded. There was only one man there, not the armed posse she’d been praying for. An innocent man who’d likely be killed, too. God, what had she done?
“Hey!” he shouted, and everyone froze.
Janna looked up, recognized him, and blurted one hopeless word.
“Cole?”
Chapter Thirteen
Cole stood panting much harder than he ought to have been for the short run from his pickup to the alley. But he’d been panting the whole drive over. Pulling on his collar, too, and gnashing his teeth, not to mention scratching his ear so hard, it hurt. The urgency had been enough to pull him back from the abyss he’d been about to careen over and run to his car. Trying desperately to keep the madness at bay just long enough to…to what, he wasn’t so sure. Only that he had to push the beast he was turning into back and get to Janna right away.
“Back off!” he yelled. Much as he wanted to sprint down the alley and punch their dirty hands off her, he went slowly, checking the scene.
Four — no, five — big guys. He couldn’t see their faces but his nose caught a bleachy, unnatural scent that made him snort for clean air.
The warning bells that had been clamoring in his mind on the way over went off on a second frenzied round.
“You,” he huffed, recognizing the man who’d led the attack on Janna in the saloon weeks ago. The man he’d confronted once before.
He bared his teeth and a low growl filled the alley. A real, animal growl that would have scared him if he’d stopped to think.
Let me out! a gritty voice yelled from inside. Kill them! Kill!
Killing, he had no problem with. Not with guys who dragged a woman into an alley and tied her up. But it was the same voice that had been screaming at him to do all kinds of crazy things to Janna, and he wasn’t about to let it take control.
His facial muscles twitched wildly as he scratched an ear like a lunatic. Yes, he was going crazy. A fucking Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde he was powerless to control.
“Cole! Don’t!” Janna called.
He’d have jumped off a cliff for her. But desert her when she was in danger? No way.
Four of the five guys were big and burly, and the fifth was a pudgy older guy who spoke like he goddamn owned the place.
“We’ve got everything under control here. No need to get mixed up in other people’s business.”
Right, under control. Cole almost spat the words aloud, but his jaw was killing him. That feeling of teeth being push-pulled again, all four canines at the same time.
He shook his head and advanced another step, balling his fists.
The man had white hair and wore a white suit that seemed completely out of place in a dank alley at night. Whyte, that was the asshole’s name. He tilted his head at Cole and his eyes lit up in recognition.
“Ah, our knight in shining armor, back for another try.”
More like a raging bull, but whatever. Let the guy bullshit all he wanted.
Shift! Shift! Let me out!
Cole had no idea what the inner voice meant by shift, but he sure as hell wasn’t letting another enemy loose in the alley right now.
You need me to save her!
No way. He had to keep a cool head. To figure out a way to fight five guys long enough to let Janna get away.
The two men holding Janna started backing away with Whyte, while the two men closest to him stepped forward. For a moment, he could still see Janna, watching in desperation, and the next, a big body stepped between them, blocking his view.
Which was when the plan to keep cool went out the window.
Cole lowered a shoulder and charged the first guy. Rammed hard enough to send the ass sprawling then turned just in time to avoid the second guy’s fist. He caught the outstretched arm and twisted it hard, making the man grunt and drop to his knees.
He did it without thinking, and thank God, because the inner voice was screeching now.
Let me out! Let me kill them!
“Move,” Whyte barked, and the man holding Janna dragged her backward. When she dug in her heels, he slapped her.
Cole winced at Janna’s pained cry and blinked at the dejá vu. Janna, fighting off hands that slapped and grabbed at places no man had a right to touch, not when a woman didn’t want him to.
It hadn’t been him hurting Janna in his nightmares. It was these men.
His vision went red with fury, and he took his vengeance on the next guy with a vicious left hook. The guy stumbled for his footing while Cole paused to cradle his right hand. Jesus, he might as well have punched a brick wall. But the pain in his hand was nothing compared to the searing pain in his mind. Like his brain was being drawn and quartered. Torn by a hundred impulses and instincts, all contradicting each other. The voice in his head was winning control over his body, making his arm twitch, his lips draw back. He started snarling — not just on the inside, but on the outside, too, like a rabid dog.
Stay in control. Stay in control…
Give me control! the wild thing demanded. Give it to me! I’ll save her!
“Cole!” Janna yelled.
He looked up just in time to sidestep the man jumping at him. He spun and booted the man into the trash cans standing by the wall. The other men stirred into action behind him, making inhuman noises as they did. There was a bone-chilling popping sound, along with a guttural moan. Clothing ripped, maybe catching on something as they rolled to their feet. He heard a growl and a furry kind of rattle, too, like a dog shaking itself. The scent of musky dog — the kind Rosalind’s car was filled with — reached him, making the hair on the nape of his neck rise.
The ringleader in that ridiculous white suit glanced behind Cole and smirked.
“Fight us now, cowboy.” He nodded at the others. “Try fighting us now.”
“Run, Cole,” Janna whispered, going wide-eyed. “Run now!”
No way would he run. He’d face them like a man and go at them again. And again, and again, for as long as it took until Janna was safe.
You run, he telegraphed with his eyes. The second you can get away, run.
&
nbsp; He turned, raising his fists, and pulled up short, because there was no one behind him. No one at eye level, anyway.
A hellish snarl rose out of the quiet of the night, and he looked down.
What the…
Three big dogs gnashed their ivory teeth at him, drooling saliva. Their scrappy fur bristled along their backs and their eyes gleamed.
Not dogs. Wolves. Where did they come from?
The second he thought it, his body convulsed. His elbows shot up and back, and he bent double like he’d been punched in the stomach. All the color seeped out of his vision until all that was remained was black, white, and a thousand different grays.
They came from inside. Just like me, the voice in him snarled. Let me out!
He choked on his own breath. No way was he letting any such beast loose. He’d die before he did that.
Trust me.
Trust his own crazy mind? Trust a beast that wanted to hurt Janna?
I will never hurt her! The voice clawed at him from the inside, splitting his mind. His fingers flexed of their own accord, and his shoulders convulsed backward. So hard, the pain was more color — white — than sensation, and he fell to his knees.
“Cole,” Janna cried. “Let it out! Quick!”
He knew the wolves were advancing on him, but he didn’t understand how Janna knew about the voice inside him.
Let him help me, she said. The strange thing was, her voice didn’t reach his ears. It was all in his mind. Let your wolf out!
He didn’t have a wolf. He had a fucking headache, three wolves about to rip his throat out, and not a second to spare.
Trust it! Janna cried.
This time, her words came with images that rushed into his splintered mind. Some pleasant, like that meadow in the mountains, where he’d dreamed of grass tickling his nose while he padded along on the ground. Other images were brutal but empowering, like the snap of mighty jaws. The liberating feel of four legs, the sheer power he could possess…
You can do it!
A wolf. She wanted him to turn into a wolf, like these murderous beasts?
Not like them. You’ll see. Now! Shift now!
If he could choose to turn into any animal, it would be a bull. That, he understood. The way to move, to turn, to kick. To seek with his horns. He could do a bull. But a wolf?
I’m your only chance! the gritty voice inside him said. Janna’s only chance!
Shift! Janna screamed as the three wolves closed on him. Damn it, shift now!
The order zipped through his body and mind, and he had no choice but to surrender. His shoulders pulled back and his jaw gave way to the scratching pain of lengthening teeth and cracking bones.
I’m your partner, not your enemy, stupid. Let me out!
Let it out! Janna echoed.
Cole closed his eyes and conjured up his own image of that mountain meadow, in which Janna was just in front of him, swishing her tail…
He opened his eyes just in time to roll out of the way of the nearest wolf’s snapping jaws. He jumped to his feet and launched himself at it, baring his jaws. It was only in midleap that he registered the fact that he’d jumped off four feet, and that his nose was a long way in front of his eyes. No time to question that, though. Not in the thick of the fight.
He tore into the wolf’s neck then jumped away as the other two closed in.
They growled, and he growled back. A real growl, vibrating in a deep, curved chest, and it felt good. Powerful. Mighty, even, and mighty pissed off.
The three wolves circled him, snarling the whole time. Checking him out just long enough for him to take stock, too.
Four feet and a goddamn tail…attached to him. A mind aflame with fury and a blazing need to kill. All totally foreign, but the soul inside…that still felt like his.
I am you, stupid, the voice muttered, echoing inside him as if he’d whispered the words to himself.
Me?
He shook his head and felt a pair of ears flap around his face. Jesus, it was true. The wolf was him. And it wasn’t a raging beast that would hurt Janna in the worst possible way. The beast would protect her to the bitter end.
So let’s get started, it said.
Cole nodded and snarled at his foes. Yes. Let’s.
Chapter Fourteen
Janna stared as Cole shifted from man to wolf, as shocked and mesmerized as a human would be upon seeing a were shift in front of their eyes. Not because she’d never witnessed a shift but because of what it might mean in Cole’s case. Death? Madness? The end?
In all the time she’d spent worrying about this moment, she’d imagined a slow, agonizing shift. A foaming mouth and wild eyes, signaling the battle within. Groans of excruciating pain and a clumsy, awkward change.
She should have known Cole could do better than that.
He shifted the way he’d tangoed with the bull: seamlessly. Gracefully. One second, he was standing as sure and fierce as any a cowboy ever had, and the next…the fairest, sleekest wolf she’d ever seen burst into a series of furious attacks. Quick and agile, with the same sense of perfect timing he had as a man. He rolled away from his attacker, then twisted and snapped back. Turned on the other rogues and kept pace as they snarled and circled him.
“Whoa,” the man holding Janna muttered.
“Get him!” Victor Whyte snapped at the three rogues who had shifted into wolf form.
Janna used the distraction to jerk free. She stumbled back and landed hard on her ass, but her wrists shifted within their bounds. A little more slack and she’d be able to—
“Watch her!” Whyte barked.
When the fifth man hauled her up by the elbow, the belt cut into her wrists. She winced away the pain and focused on extending one wolf claw. A single claw and nothing else — a tricky operation so unlike her usual all-or-nothing shift.
The alley exploded into a frenzy of growls and barks as the three rogues pounced on Cole.
“Cole!” she screamed.
For a minute, all she saw was a tangle of fur and fangs. Then Cole leaped free, jumping toward her, with his golden fur stained burgundy. God, was that his blood or the blood of the enemy?
The three rogues whirled, forming a line, and Cole turned his back on Janna to face them. He snarled a warning any wolf in a ten-mile radius would have heard.
Mine! Mate!
She didn’t know whether to cry or to cheer. The snarl indicated that Cole had accepted the wolf half of himself — but at what cost? If he ceded too much control to the wolf, his human side might be lost forever.
Janna sawed frantically at the edge of the leather with her claw.
One rogue feinted, and Cole batted him back with a huge, outstretched paw. A second rogue seized the chance to snap at Cole’s back leg, but Cole was faster. He jumped out of the way then spun and leaped at the rogue, who yelped and darted away.
Janna shook her head. Three against one meant all Cole could do was shake each attack off. He could never move in to kill a single wolf, because the other two would close in.
“I’ll take her. You get him,” Whyte ordered the man guarding her.
Shit. Four against one. She sawed faster.
Whyte started dragging her backward. His hands were cold and clammy on her bare skin.
“Should have learned your lesson a long time ago,” he hissed in her ear.
His breath was foul; his tone haughty.
“Purity,” he crowed. “Purity…”
The words brought her to the night her pack had been ambushed and annihilated by Whyte’s rogues. Simon and Soren had hunted down and killed all those directly responsible, but they were just the tip of the iceberg. Whyte had been the one who’d incited the attack. And he would order attacks on more innocent shifters if he wasn’t stopped.
She sawed desperately at the belt as four wolves battled Cole in a messy, merciless fight.
She was ready to scream in frustration when the belt broke, and she was suddenly free. Her hands flew apart, immedia
tely formed fists, and punched the rogue leader in the face.
“Bitch!” he yelled, stumbling back.
Janna summoned the other four claws and slashed at Whyte again. The rip of bare flesh under her claws had never felt so satisfying.
“Bitch this.” She snarled, dropped to all fours, and shifted into her wolf form.
Whyte shrank back, and it took everything she had not to go for his throat. She couldn’t afford to let the coward go, but even a second spent attacking him might be a second too late for Cole. She wheeled away from Whyte and snarled at the rogues in the fight.
Mate! Save my mate! her wolf cried as Cole went down.
Four rogues closed over him, going for the kill.
Janna leaped forward, tackling the nearest rogue. She chomped down on his ear, pulling him to the side. The male wolves had a size advantage, but surprise was on her side. Surprise, fury, and a crushing need for revenge. She dove at his throat and closed down hard.
Die, enemy. Threaten my mate and you die, her wolf snarled.
His blood was acrid, his matted fur dank. She held on as he struggled. This one would die. The next one would die, too. All of them, even if it meant her own death.
She spat when the rogue went still and focused on finding Cole. The fight between him and the rogue wolves had gone from a pileup to a three-on-one triangle again. For a split second, she caught Cole’s eye and cried into his mind.
Cole?
Janna! His husky voice sounded in her head. A voice just enough like the real Cole to give her hope.
She wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him until she could be sure his human side wasn’t slipping away, but there was no time. The rogue closest to her pivoted and barreled straight at her.
She borrowed a page from Cole’s bullfighting book and sidestepped at the last second, then bit down on the rogue’s back leg. The wolf kicked madly as chaos broke out beside her: two versus one in the other fight.
Better odds than before, her wolf decided.
It was up to her to make the odds even better, so she hung on as her foe dragged her along. The wolf was a big one, so she dug her claws into the ground, trying to make him stumble. Looking for an opening—