She looked at Lexxie in panicked anger but her friend appeared as upset as Heather.
“I didn’t know about this,” Lexxie insisted. “I swear. He told me it was a Howl.”
“It is a Howl,” Nate objected. “But rather than dancing and fucking, Heather’s mating ceremony will be the entertainment.”
His fingers banded her upper arm, firm, unbreakable. Even if she managed to break free, where would she go? Rather than humiliate herself further by kicking and screaming, Heather walked at his side, chin raised, gaze coolly assessing. He hadn’t exaggerated. The vast majority of attendees were male and many were from other packs.
The crowd parted for them, offering her an unobstructed view of the combatants. Three fights were going on simultaneously, each bout savage and bloody. She crossed her arms over her chest and forced herself to watch. She would not show fear in the face of this madness. She had to remain calm and watch for an opportunity if she hoped to escape.
Escape? Was there really any hope that she could outrun all these men?
“As soon as this round is decided, we’ll be down to the final six,” her father explained. He seemed absorbed by the competition, yet he maintained his hold on her arm. “My money is on Risdon, but Braden Montego is solid too.” He motioned toward two men standing across from them. She recognized James Risdon. The other man was a stranger to her. James was one of her father’s favorites and James had made no secret of his desire for her. Braden was tall and lean with sharp features and pale-green eyes. He stared at her boldly as if he were already undressing her.
One of the combatants screamed and Heather’s attention returned to the fight. The wounded man held his arm against his chest, his hand twisted at an unnatural angle. His opponent smiled with malicious joy and Heather felt sick all over.
“He needs to shift to mend the bone, but he’ll be disqualified if he does,” her father explained, fascination making his eyes gleam. Ignoring the pain, the contestant attempted to continue.
It was all so cruel, so vicious. She started to turn away but her father jerked her back around.
“They’re spilling their blood for you. You can have the decency to watch.”
Decency? Nothing about this was decent.
The winners were declared a short time later and the final six paired off. She tried to calm down, to accept the inevitable. She was a Therian wolf. Her mate needed to be strong and capable. That’s all this was, a demonstration of his strength and…savagery! Blood marred their features and cruel ambition twisted their expressions. They weren’t allowed to shift and still they looked more animal than man.
This might be “an honored tradition” but she found it revolting.
Disgust and fear gave way to desperate purpose. She would not be the prize in this vicious competition. She would not submit to the brutality of men!
Drawing energy deep into her chest, she shut out everything but the hot tingle. All around her men cheered and shouted, calling suggestions to the ones slugging it out in the center. She tuned out the sounds and focused inward. Ever since she transformed six years ago, she’d been able to sense her inner self. She’d tried countless times to transform again but the stakes had never been this high before. If she stayed here she would die, perhaps not physically, but part of her soul would be consumed by the indignities they had planned for her.
Energy coalesced in her abdomen, spinning and twisting into a concentrated ball. Her skin felt tight, painfully confining, and her joints began to ache. Invigorated by her progress, Heather slowly opened her eyes.
Lexxie was the only one not engrossed in the fighting.
Heather felt her eyes burn as the shift took hold deep inside. Yes! It was working.
Lexxie’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Don’t.” Her lips formed the word but the sound was swallowed up by the roar of the crowd.
Heather was beyond caution, beyond caring if this made her look weak or embarrassed her father. She would not spend the rest of her life with the winner of this horrendous contest. Her Therian nature had saved her once before. When Carlos threatened her life, it was as if her ancestors rose up and triggered her transformation. This wasn’t a typical shift. This was more elemental, a Therian equivalent of fight or flight.
She surrendered to instinct and allowed her Therian nature to take over. Her wolf tossed her head, anxious and ready to escape. She closed her eyes again as her wolf thrust through her human form. Blinding pain flashed through her being as the shift hit her fast and hard. Nate cried out and grabbed a handful of fur but the rest of her slipped away. Heather spun on her back legs then leapt between two stunned onlookers.
“Stop her!” Nate screamed. “If you catch her you keep her. And claim her any way you like.”
Her father’s horrible words followed her into the surrounding forest. She wasn’t sure where she was going or how she’d survive without her pack. All she knew was her life here was over and she couldn’t look back.
* * * * *
“Give me your keys or I’ll put you in a cab. Either way, you’re not driving home.” Jake Parlain held out his hand expectantly. The inebriated frat boy glared and his girlfriend giggled. The downside of owning a bar was dealing with drunks. Long ago Jake had accepted the reality. He couldn’t stop every irresponsible customer but he would never turn a blind eye to those he noticed. “How much have you had to drink?” he asked the girlfriend.
“I don’t drink. Alcohol makes me sleepy.” She scrunched up her surgically perfected nose and smoothed down the ultra-short skirt of her clingy dress. “Besides, it’s fattening.”
“Are you headed to the same place? I don’t want you to reach your place then let him take over behind the wheel.”
“We live together but he doesn’t trust me with his Porsche,” the pretty brunette told him in a conspirator’s whisper.
“He should have thought about that before he started slamming whiskey shots,” Jake returned with a wink.
“I’m a better driver drunk than she is sober,” the young man grumbled.
“Maybe, but we’re not going to find out tonight.” Jake snatched the keys out of the young man’s hands and tossed them to the girlfriend. “Be careful. You don’t want to come between a man and his sports car.”
“Unless you’re bent over the hood.” The drunk laughed loudly and slapped his leg.
“Let’s go, Gary. You’ve embarrassed yourself enough for one night.”
The couple staggered out, frat boy’s arm draped over his girlfriend’s shoulders. Jake just shook his head and looked around the empty tavern. Closing time was still forty minutes away but Kelly, the waitress, was already turning up chairs and her fiancé, the bartender, was balancing the register. Jake wasn’t concerned by the trickle of customers. Aspen was a ski town. Summers were always slow.
“That was nicely done.”
The comment drew his attention to the doorway beside the antique bar. His sister Enya stood there in jeans and a t-shirt. She’d changed out of her “work” clothes, which generally consisted of low-necked tops and short skirts. Jake frequently accused her of using her assets to attract customers but it was hard to argue with the results. In the three years since Enya had taken over management of the bar, Toulouse Tavern had become a hip, modern hangout rather than the stodgy pub their parents had left behind.
Three weeks before Jake’s twenty-second birthday, their parents—along with six others—were killed in an explosion. There had been rumors of foul play but an in-depth investigation proved that an aging gas line had ruptured and no one was to blame.
Refusing to allow his three sisters to be split up or placed in a group home, Jake had petitioned the court for custody. Even at such a young age Jake was responsible and ambitious, so the court had allowed him to try his hand at parenting. He’d put his life on hold and focused on increasing the profits of the family business and seeing to the care and safety of his three sisters.
Now Enya ran the bar and Jake man
aged the adjacent restaurant, and life had fallen into a comfortable routine.
“I thought you’d gone to bed.” He wended his way between the tables and joined her at the end of the bar. The doorway led to a large storeroom and the stairway by which Enya accessed the second-story apartment. The compact space had been crowded when all four of the Parlain siblings lived there. But Liz chose her mate, Tara moved to Boulder and Jake purchased a house, which left the apartment for Enya.
“I tried but someone was blasting the jukebox.” Her face had been scrubbed clean of her customary makeup, but a shower couldn’t dim the emerald streaks in her jet-black hair. Her skin looked pale, and purple smudges shadowed her deep-green eyes.
“I’d think you’d be used to that by now.”
She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. “Not with this headache.”
“Well, they’re gone now, so get some sleep. You look miserable.”
Before she could react to the suggestion, someone screamed. Following the shrill sound, Jake flew through the storeroom and out the back door. Kelly stood near the dumpster, a bag of garbage in her hand.
“There’s a…b-body back there.”
Jake motioned her back into the bar before he went to investigate. Enya stood in the open doorway, too curious to leave yet smart enough to stay back.
He approached the dumpster slowly, drawing his tiger closer to the surface so he could analyze scent. Stale booze, rotting food and decomposing garbage masked the lighter smells. The alley was dark and damp from an earlier rain, which only added to the olfactory clutter.
Reaching the corner of the dumpster, he leaned around and spotted a small, filthy foot. Was it a child or a woman? Either way, he sensed no danger. The foot was attached to a long, well-toned leg, the shape appealing even under a liberal coating of dirt.
“Are they alive?” Enya called from the doorway.
“I’m not sure yet.”
The person was lodged behind the dumpster. It was almost as if he or she had tried to cram into the tiny space for protection. Bracing his back against the wall, he rolled the dumpster forward and knelt beside his uninvited guest. She was female, he quickly determined, young and naked. Had someone dumped her here? Sexual abuse was far too prevalent even in— Or was she Therian?
Dreading what he expected to find, he eased his hand beneath her tangled hair and searched for the pulse on the side of her neck. “She’s alive.” He leaned in and inhaled deeply. “She’s Therian.”
Enya rushed forward and handed him a blanket. “Is she wounded? Shot? What’s wrong with her?”
Conventional wisdom dictated that he leave her as is and call an ambulance. But she wasn’t human so conventional wisdom didn’t apply. He looked her over, trying to discover the source of her unconsciousness, but there were no obvious wounds or visible clues.
He brushed the hair back from her face and cursed under his breath. “This is Heather Fitzroy.” It didn’t matter how she’d ended up here, they were screwed.
In an instant Enya’s concern evaporated. She tensed and folded her arms. “What’s a wolf doing in cat territory?” He understood her sudden chill. She had good reason to mistrust wolf-shifters but he didn’t share her resentment of all things wolf.
“I’m not sure she knows where she is.” He draped the blanket over her naked body then lifted her into his arms. She felt tiny and chilled as he carried her toward the back door.
“Wait. What are you doing?”
“We can’t leave her out here.” Even knowing Enya’s history, he was shocked by her lack of compassion. Heather had nothing to do with what happened eight years ago.
“Wrap her in the blanket and call her pack. I don’t want that in my house.”
He tensed, annoyed by his sister’s stubbornness and concerned about the female in his arms. “She’s unconscious and desperate enough to try to hide behind a dumpster. Don’t you think we should find out why before we do anything else?”
“Yeah, including bringing her inside.”
He ignored her protestation and took his unmoving bundle inside the bar. Kelly stood at the far end of the storeroom, eyes wide and uncertain. “She’s alive, Kelly. You probably saved her life.” A faint smile curved her lips but she didn’t speak, so he turned toward the stairs.
Enya caught his sleeve. “This is your bar, but that’s my home.”
“I’ll take her to my house as soon as I get her stabilized. Now help me or get out of the way.” Heather was completely limp in his arms and the skin around her mouth was taking on a bluish cast. He’d thought the stench emanated from the dumpster but much of the unpleasantness lingered on her skin. “Where have you been?” he muttered as he started up the stairs.
“Put her in the bathtub. She smells like a sewer.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Besides, it was Enya’s furniture that would be soiled by Heather’s condition. He carried her into the hall bath and carefully placed her in the bathtub.
Enya moved past him, folded the blanket back then turned on the water.
What he suspected was cold water splashed across Heather’s feet and she moaned, shifting restlessly.
“Come on, Heather,” Enya muttered. “You’re safe now. It’s all right to wake up.”
He wasn’t sure if Enya had rediscovered her compassion or if she was simply anxious to be rid of her uninvited guest, but her tone was kind and her hands gentle as she took over Heather’s care.
Jake watched Heather’s face, waiting for her eyes to open. Her head rolled from side to side and she kicked out weakly. Unfortunately her features remained blank, her eyes closed.
“She needs energy and she really needs a bath. Go wait in the living room. I’ll see if I can wake her.”
“Not a chance. She could turn feral or shift on you. I’ll stay back, but I stay here.”
“Fine by me. I guess you’ve already seen her anyway.” She pulled the blanket off Heather and tossed it toward the hamper. “She’s going to require a prewash. Damn, this girl stinks.”
Jake tried to keep his eyes on Heather’s face as Enya stood and released the hand-held showerhead from its bracket. Even covered in dirt and who knew what else, Heather was beautiful. Her reddish-gold hair tangled about her face and shoulders, one perfect spiral trailing down between her breasts. He only allowed himself a glimpse at those gentle mounds before he dragged his gaze back to her face.
His interaction with Heather was minimal but she’d always fascinated him. Unlike most wolf females, she was spirited and independent. Landon, her middle brother, insisted that she was more like her father than any of Nate’s sons. Jake wasn’t sure that was a good thing—Nate Fitzroy was a ruthless prick—but it piqued Jake’s interest either way.
Enya rinsed away the worst of the grime then turned off the sprayer. “She’s exhausted and her energy levels are dangerously low.”
“Can you feed her?” Everyone in Jake’s bloodline could pass energy to others but Enya could deliver the most concentrated stream. Besides, to help feed Heather, Jake would have to touch her and he’d rather keep his distance while she was naked.
“I’ll try, but I doubt it will be enough. She became your responsibility as soon as you brought her inside. This isn’t going to fall on me.”
“Understood. Just see if you can bring her back to consciousness. We need to understand her situation before we make decisions about her.”
Enya laughed. “Little late for that. Besides, there is no ‘we’ in this. I’ll do my best to wake her up then you get her out of here.” Without waiting for his agreement, she turned back to the tub and placed her hands on Heather’s shoulders.
Heather stirred restlessly beneath the hot palms burning into her shoulders. Energy flowed into her body, saturating her cells and sizzling through her bloodstream. Water lapped at her legs and she rested back against something smooth and cool. Her mind was muddled and every muscle in her body felt limp and useless.
“Where am I?” she whispered w
ithout opening her eyes.
“Aspen. How did you get here? Is someone chasing you?”
The female voice was unfamiliar so she forced her eyes to open. Light stabbed into her brain, making her shudder and moan.
“Get the light. She’s trying to open her eyes.”
The light seeping in through Heather’s eyelids dimmed, so she slowly tried again. She was lying in a bathtub and a woman knelt on the floor beside her. The woman moved her hands to the edge of the tub, silently waiting for Heather to speak. With the light off, she could keep her eyes open, but now the woman’s face was shadowed.
“Are you injured or just exhausted?” The woman finally spoke again after a long, tense silence.
Terrified and desperate to avoid the hunters, Heather had run until her legs gave out and she’d had no choice but to rest. “I feel much better now. Thank you for the energy.”
The woman chuckled. “She’s all yours. I have no use for wolves.” She pushed to her feet and walked out of the bathroom, brushing past a man Heather hadn’t noticed before.
Light from the hall illuminated one side of his face and outlined his muscular body. Jake Parlain. Holy shit, she’d run to Jake for help? She must have been out of her mind. There was no way he would stick his neck out for a wolf. No cat would.
“Why don’t you finish cleaning up then put on this robe? Now that you’re feeling better, you can explain what brought you here.” He placed the bathrobe beside the tub and slipped from the room, leaving the door ajar so she wasn’t in complete darkness.
The details of her situation came crashing down on her. She was naked and in the bathtub of a tiger-shifter. Her father had encouraged the hunters to run her down and rape her. Several of the bastards had spent the past seven or eight hours trying to do exactly that. After utter desperation triggered her shift, she’d run and run until she was too exhausted to move then she’d hid until she recovered enough to run some more. When or why she’d decided to come to Aspen she honestly couldn’t say, but Jake was no stranger, so somewhere along the line this had become her destination.
Therian Prize Page 2