Rae, Beverly - Howling for Sara [Night Runner Werewolves 1] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Special Edition)

by Beverly Rae

“Most likely. But just in case, let’s spread out. Plus, I’m not sure she’d know the way back. It was dark when we arrived.” Michael’s gut twisted as he began shucking his clothes. “Howl if you pick up her scent.”

  Within seconds, the men had transformed into werewolves. Michael whirled around once, snarled, then started the search. Nick and Max fanned out to the right of him while Ranlon and William took the left side. Jimmy followed Michael straight west into the setting sun.

  The pack ran for almost three miles before one of them picked up Sara’s scent and howled to raise the alarm. Michael never broke his pace as they swung toward the sound of the howl. Ranlon and William, back in human form, stood rigid, their eyes glued to a spot on the ground.

  Michael slammed to a stop and shifted alongside Jimmy who did the same. “What is it?” But a weight dropped into his stomach as he took in the footprints. Two sets of footprints instead of just one.

  “She was here.” Ranlon’s dark eyes met his. “Her scent’s faint, so she must’ve been here sometime around midmorning.”

  Michael saw the same thought reflected in his friends’ faces. If only they hadn’t gone for the run as he’d suggested. If only they’d stayed home and kept her safe.

  “Michael, do you smell it?” William growled.

  He frowned, drew in a long breath, and almost gagged. The smell was unmistakable. “Werebear.”

  Nick and Max padded toward them, still in wolf form. Michael held up his hand to keep them from changing. “The shifter was in human form, so maybe he didn’t hurt her. Did she go with him?”

  William knelt and examined the footprints. “Looks like she went willingly enough. But who knows how long he’ll stay in his human body. She’d better not be with him when he shifts.”

  She didn’t know about shifters yet. He hadn’t had time to tell her, much less show her what they were. If he had, he could’ve broken the news to her gently, keeping her from becoming too frightened to understand. But the werebear wouldn’t care. In fact, he’d get off scaring the hell out of her. Right before he tore her apart.

  Bile rose to his mouth, and Michael turned to keep the others from seeing the fear he knew had to be showing on his face. Following the footprints, he shifted back to animal form and started running toward the hills.

  * * * *

  Sara bit down as hard as she could and chewed. She gnawed on the rope for several minutes before stopping to check on her progress. Only a small portion of the heavy braid showed any signs of fraying. At this rate, she’d never get free before Victor returned.

  Would he return as a bear? Or as Victor the human? Not that it mattered. He was cruel in whatever form he took.

  She shuddered, remembering the way he’d looked at her before he’d shifted. She’d seen the lust in his eyes, but unlike the desire Michael and the rest had shown her, Victor’s lust was filled with evil glee. He wanted her body, not her mind or her heart.

  Michael and his friends had wanted to take care of her, to pleasure her, to know her. Victor was a beast whether in human or bear form, but the werewolves retained their humanity even while in their animal bodies. If she ever got another chance with them, she swore she’d welcome the men into her bed and her life.

  Her body, bruised and scratched, ached with pains she wasn’t sure would ever go away. She toed off her shoes and sucked in a hiss at the blisters scattered over her feet. Sweat and grime covered her body, and her hair tangled around her face. A small cry escaped her and she laid her head against the side of the lean-to. Giving into the fear and pain, she cried, letting her sobs rack her body.

  She’d never get free. Never see the men of Matheson Ranch again. Never feel their loving touch or their strong arms wrapped around her. She slumped against the boards and closed her eyes, ready to give up. Maybe if she could sleep for a little while, she could think clearer. But sleep eluded her.

  “You were meant for us.”

  Oh, if only she could hear those words again. If only she’d acted earlier on the dreams. If only she’d recognized what the dreams had meant. She could’ve found the men who wanted and loved her sooner. If she had, she wouldn’t have run away and straight into the arms of a kidnapper.

  She moaned then opened her eyes to see her face, dirty and tear-stained, in a shard of broken glass tucked into the crevice between two boards. She stared at the image, trying to reconcile the woman she saw with the woman she was inside.

  Stop the pity party and think! Crying about her troubles wouldn’t help. She needed to think clearly if she had any chance of surviving.

  The men didn’t know where she’d gone and probably assumed she’d headed back to her car. Victor had taken her in an opposite direction and, like a fool, she hadn’t questioned him until it was too late.

  The sunlight filtering through the slats grew dimmer by the minute. If she could reach the glass, then maybe she’d have a chance. And if she could get free, she’d try her luck in the dark. Any danger out there was better than what she faced when Victor returned.

  She yanked on her restraints, hoping to gain enough leeway to reach the glass, but she was tied too close to the boards. To reach the glass, she’d have to break free. But to break free, she’d have to reach the glass. A laugh boiled up from her chest into her throat to burst out of her mouth in hard, short coughs. But the laughter soon turned to sobs.

  No. Don’t lose control again. She wiped her tears away with the back of one hand. Even if she couldn’t use the piece of glass to get free, she’d find another way. She had to.

  How long would Victor stay gone? His departure hours ago had given her renewed hope, but her chance of escaping was growing smaller by the minute. Closing her eyes, she did the only thing she could think to do. She pictured Michael and the others coming for her.

  But would they really look for her? Or would they decide to forget about her? Some of them had already taken what they’d wanted from her, so did that mean they no longer cared about her? Weariness swept over her, relaxing her body until, at last, she slept.

  * * * *

  “You were meant for us. Sara, tell us where you are.”

  She frantically checked the surrounding area looking for them. Did she really hear them? Or was she imagining things?

  I’m here. I’m in the lean-to.

  She waited, hoping to hear them approaching, but heard nothing. Again, she shouted, then stopped as the alternative struck her mute. What if Victor heard her?

  Squinting her eyes closed, she concentrated, trying to envision the scene as she hoped it would play out.

  “We’re coming for you, Sara.”

  I’m here. In the lean-to. Go west toward the hills.

  Sara concentrated harder and saw the wolf pack coming toward her, their paws striking the ground, their tongues lolling out of their mouths as they increased their pace.

  “We’re almost there, Sara. Hang on.”

  Here. I’m here. Please hurry.

  Michael rushed toward her, his human arms outstretched and his face a mask of worry, and skidded to a stop. Jimmy, Nick, Ranlon, William, and Max came beside him. All of them looked around, their expressions worried and haggard, but they couldn’t see her.

  Please don’t give up. Please help me.

  “Tell us where, Sara.”

  She reached for them although her hands were still bound and opened her mouth to tell them where to find her. But suddenly her voice was gone as Victor’s hand clamped around her neck. Unable to speak or breathe, she looked to the setting sun and prayed.

  In the west. Find me in the west close to the hills.

  Chapter Five

  Sara’s eyes flew open to find Victor, his hand clamped around her neck, his furious face an inch from hers. The anger in his yellow eyes flamed at her, and she could taste the stench of death on his breath. Dried blood caked in the corners of his mouth.

  She inhaled, trying to find air, and failed. Kicking, she fought, struggling against the impossible.

  “I h
eard you scream, bitch.”

  He cursed and let her go. She dragged in a precious breath, the air wheezing in and out. Victor snagged her legs, pinning them beneath his.

  “I should’ve stuffed a rag down your throat.” His anger lessened, replaced by a sudden gleam in his eyes. “I know what I’ll do. I’ll stuff my cock down your throat instead. See if you can yell for help then.” He narrowed his eyes and sneered. “But you’d probably bite my cock off, wouldn’t you?”

  She swallowed, wincing at the pain. If her throat hadn’t been so raw, she would’ve told him he was right. Her gaze slid away from the cruel eyes and down his arms. Although his clothes were covered in dirt, blood stained his neck and arms as though he’d dressed after getting splattered. Had he killed the cows he’d searched for? Or was it worse? Had he run into Michael or the pack and won?

  She dared to seek out his eyes again.

  Reaching behind him, he grabbed something, then tossed a torn and bloodied flank of a cow beside her. “You should be grateful, honey. Here I was, working hard all day to bring home the bacon and all you did was lie around doing nothing. Well, okay. The beef. But it’s the same idea, right?”

  Flies buzzed around the meat and her stomach rolled over. Did he expect her to eat the meat raw? Or was she supposed to skin and cook it for him?

  He undid the rope from the boards. Examining her still-bound hands, he studied the teeth marks in the cord. “Looks like you’ve been busy, too. Did you really think you could chew through this? Sweet thang, you have so much to learn.”

  Cackling, he snagged the rope holding her legs together and tugged her toward the middle of the lean-to. Rocks, sticks, and other debris dug scratches into her back, and her tank top rode up to expose the bottom of her breasts. She groaned as pain ripped into her.

  He swung one leg over to straddle her. She struck out, fighting even when she knew it was useless. Still, if she could land one solid blow to mark him before she died, she’d count it a victory.

  “Knock it off, bitch.”

  He struck her cheek hard enough to make her dizzy. She ground her teeth together, gathered what little saliva she could, and sent a wad of spit into his face. He snarled, slapped her again, and thrust her arms over her head. She fought, twisting her body every way she could, but he still managed to pin her hands above her head.

  A determination to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her mixed with her fear. She wouldn’t go down easily. Wouldn’t let him have any pleasure killing her.

  “Why don’t you just calm down? It’s not like you can do anything to stop this. You and me? We’re going to get to know each other real well. And who knows? You’ll learn being with a werebear is a whole lot better than hanging out with a pack of dogs.”

  He slid his thumb over her lips. “Sure is a shame I can’t trust you to blow me. You have such pretty lips.”

  She snapped, trying to bite his finger, but he yanked his hand away too fast. “Go fuck yourself.”

  “Ah, there’s my girl. But why should I when you’re here to do it?” He cupped her breasts, squeezing them hard. “You have the best tits I’ve ever seen, you know that? Oh, wait a sec.”

  He feigned a thoughtful look and pouted. “Nope. Not the best tits. That hooker in Vegas had amazing tits, but hers were fake so I had to cut them off. I guess that means you’ve got the best real tits I’ve ever seen. Does that make you feel any better, honey?”

  Sara glared at him, keeping her mouth shut as she tried to fight the terror threatening to take over. He could take her body, but he’d never have her mind or soul. If she could survive with those intact, she would continue to fight him until she drew her last breath.

  Another slap caught her unprepared. “Bitch, when I give you a compliment, you need to say thank you.” He gripped her chin, digging his fingers into her flesh. “Now say thank you.”

  She refused, instead trying to spit again. His scowl deepened. “Spit on me again and I’ll tie you outside for the night. We’ll see how the varmints like you.”

  “You’d better let me go before they find you.”

  He swung off her then took her ankles in his big hands. “The Night Runners aren’t going to find you. At least not until I’m through with you.”

  Night Runners?

  He saw her confusion. “You are new to the pack, aren’t you? That’s what they call themselves, you know. Like the word werewolf isn’t good enough for them.”

  He untied the rope from around her ankles but didn’t turn her loose. Instead, he pushed her legs wide, then settled in between them. She kicked, aiming for his head, but he was faster. He leaned on her inner thighs, keeping her legs spread far apart. Tears sprang to her eyes from the pain.

  “You try and kick me again and you’ll wish you were dead. Now let’s you and me have some fun.”

  Again, she tried to get free, and if she couldn’t escape, then she was ready to die. Anything before he could take her.

  “Go on. Fight. I like it when a woman fights.” He licked his lips and ran a hand over her mound.

  She inhaled but kept the cry of revulsion from her lips. Snaking his hand under her shorts, he skimmed his thumb along her pussy lips and moaned. “Oooh, how tight are you? Or have those dogs worn you out already?”

  Her gaze slid past him to the open area beyond and she sent out a prayer. Please come for me. I need you.

  Victor saw where she was looking and jerked around as though he expected the werewolves to be leaping toward him. Relief poured off him and he turned back to her with a wicked grin. “Very funny. You had me going there for a second.”

  “You’re afraid of them. I can see it in your face. And you should be. When they get here, they’re going to rip—”

  He plunged a finger inside her, stilling her mouth and her body. “No more yapping and no more tricks. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll even let you live.”

  She closed her eyes, willing herself to ignore him when he thrust another finger inside her. Think of something else. Think about being somewhere else.

  But her mind couldn’t shut out the cruel invasion. Bile rose to her throat, and she tasted blood as she bit her tongue to keep from screaming.

  “Look at me, bitch. I want to see it in your eyes when I cram my dick inside you.”

  She didn’t respond, and more pain seared into her head as he hit her again. She opened her eyes, saw his lustful leer, and turned her head to look behind him.

  Her breath hitched in her throat and for a minute she wasn’t sure if she was seeing things. “They’re here,” she whispered, not bothering to hide the glee in her tone.

  He shook his head and snorted. “Don’t try to pull that trick again. Do you really think I’m so stupid?”

  “Yeah, I do.” She gave him her own wicked grin. “But this time it’s not a trick.”

  Victor whirled around, falling off Sara. “No!”

  She dug in her heels and pushed herself to a sitting position. Six werewolves stood outside the lean-to, their fangs exposed, their amber eyes glittering.

  * * * *

  Michael growled, his tail low between his legs, his ears laid back. He darted his gaze between the man and Sara. Rage ripped through him as he took in her wide, frightened eyes and the massive, purple bruise on her cheek. His inner beast howled, encouraging him to strike, to tear out the man’s jugular vein.

  Ranlon, Max, and Jimmy moved to stand beside him, their jaws pulled back in snarls. William and Nick took his other side, but when William stepped forward, Michael moved to block his way. Their gazes met and Michael showed his teeth, telling him to wait. He gave the others a similar look, and although Nick and Max swished their tails angrily to disagree, they did as he ordered.

  Sara’s captor reached for a metal bar, snatched her by the front of her tank top, and pulled her to his side. She struggled but she was no match for the large man. “Back off, dogs. Take one step closer and I’ll bash her pretty head in.”

  Michael could barely see as th
e anger grew stronger, energizing him with power. No way would he let the man escape, but he couldn’t risk Sara’s life. He paced up and down in front of his friends, determined to find a way to get at him.

  “Victor, let me go.” Sara’s voice trembled, but Michael could see the fire in her eyes. She looked at him then gave him a slight nod.

  “Shut up, bitch.” Victor shook her but never took his eyes off the werewolves.

  Michael stopped and readied himself. Sara was about to do something, and he had to be ready.

  “Don’t call me a bitch.” Taking him by the wrist still holding her top, she brought his hand to her mouth and bit down. Victor shouted and yanked away, lowering the metal bar.

  Michael pounced, hitting Victor and sending them rolling together over the ground. Michael got onto his paws in time to see Sara scramble out of the lean-to toward the safety of his friends. The other werewolves growled and barked their encouragement, then formed a semicircle around her to protect her.

  Michael leapt at Victor again, scraping his claws down the man’s arm as he flew past him. Victor shouted profanities, stumbled, but managed to stagger away.

  “Look out!”

  But Michael didn’t need Sara’s cry of warning. The man changed quickly, his human form vanishing under short, brown fur. Within seconds, Victor had changed into a large brown bear.

  Roaring, the bear lumbered toward Michael. Michael dodged to the side, narrowly escaping the bear’s deadly swipe. The rest of the werewolves howled and snarled, dancing in front of Sara, egging the bear to confront them, but the bear was intent on coming after Michael.

  Michael knew a bear, especially a werebear, was stronger than he was. Weaving in and out, he darted in to snap at the bear’s neck. Several times he attacked then jumped away seconds before the bear could react. Victor roared again, frothy spittle flying out of his mouth as he exposed sharp fangs. He whirled around then lifted onto his back legs. Again and again, Michael outmaneuvered the bear, but his attacks on the bear’s back legs wouldn’t prove deadly.

  “Help him,” cried Sara. Her word was all the pack needed and Michael growled the order to attack.