He snorted. “Eben, no. I don’t got nothin’ to do with that asshole. I’m talking about the true pack leader, Theron. He’d like to meet with you for a while.” He pulled her toward his truck and tossed her in before climbing up behind the wheel. The engine roared to life as he cranked the wheel, turning around in the road. “You should have stayed safe, locked away in that house of Connor’s. But it’s their bad luck, and good for us.”
“Why?” She tried to twist her wrists free. It hurt, but less than it should have. The feeling was already leaving her fingertips. It would only be a matter of time before she wouldn’t even be able to bend her fingers.
“It’s going to throw the asshole off for a while. He’s going to come charging to the rescue, unprepared, and try to take you back. I can’t wait. I’m going to rip out his fucking spine.” He chortled over the thought.
The easily said threat froze her blood in her veins and the image of Eben dead solidified in her head. They were all crazy. It was the only explanation that made any sense. “He’s not going to come for me. He doesn’t even like me right now.” It was the truth, and would only become more so after he learned she’d left him.
He looked at her incredulously. “I can smell him on you, puss. That prick’s fucked you less than eight hours ago. No use lying ‘bout it.” He winked at her and turned back to the road. “Yup. It’s a strange thing to be Were, although I don’t really have any basis for comparison, you understand. We used to be mighty. Predators among sheep, you might say. Anything in our woods, we’d kill. Didn’t matter if it was little Suzy from daycare, or a stray cow from the farm down the road. If it was walkin’ on a full moon night, we took it down, and damned the consequences. We always made a good meal of it.
“We had one guy,” he continued, ignoring the look of horror on her face, “a real old-timer. He liked to skin them first, while they still squirmed. Only afterward would he eat them.”
Her mouth fell open and bile rose in her throat. “Stop.”
He smiled over at her. “Don’t ever confuse us with your humans. Other than the appearance, we’re nothing alike. Our brutality is too dominant. I’ll have to kill Eben, and if not me, then Theron, because if Eben’s left alive, he’s going to fuck us six ways to Sunday for touching you. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame him for it. That’s as it should be. He’s Were, and he’ll react like one. None of this write-your-congressman bullshit for us, thank God.”
She sat stunned, her bound wrists forgotten. His words echoed in her head, so awful she couldn’t get them out. But they served as a reminder—she’d forgotten what they all were. She’d made a mistake. They looked and talked like humans, but they weren’t. They were animal, far more than they were human, and she couldn’t ever forget it.
“I want to go home,” she announced, staring straight ahead.
“Sorry,” he replied, sounding anything but. “We’re going over to Angie’s house. Theron’s meeting us there. Besides, she wants to see the bitch who took her out of the running for Eben’s bed.”
It hurt to think of another woman in Eben’s bed, more than she wanted it too. “Does she love him?” she asked softly.
He snorted. “Fuck no. She’s a strong bitch. She wants the power that goes along with fucking him. Angie was kinda pissed when she found out he had a little human to do.”
“Why does Theron want me?”
He glanced at her, his lips twisting slightly. “It seems you’ve a history with him. He met you a few years back. Don’t know why he didn’t take you out then.”
It took her a minute to put two and two together, but when she did, a whole new horror surfaced, and stared at her with murderous eyes.
“Oh God.”
“Yup. For you, anyway.”
She stayed silent the rest of the drive, trying to come up with anything that would get her free. Matthew Granville happily continued chattering the rest of the way, recounting the most horrible stories she’d ever heard, and laughing ever time she flinched during the telling.
He pulled up at an old homestead with dilapidated barns. He got out of the truck and dragged her behind him, making her stand still as he looked at her restraints.
He whistled. “Damn, you did a number on your wrists.” He leaned down and jerked her hands up at the same time, which made her yelp as her shoulders were stretched in a way that was painful and not entirely possible.
When she felt the wet lap of his tongue on her forearms, she tried to jerk away. He retaliated by roughly pushing her down to the ground, keeping her still with a knee in her back. “Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice deep and rough, all amusement gone.
His tongue licked her wrists, moving below the ties in long swipes. She cringed, trying not to think about what he was doing or why he was doing it, and thankful that everything below the restraints was numb.
“What are you doing?” someone screeched from the right.
Gwen lifted her head from the snow, gasping as she was dragged to her feet by a rough hand on her bound wrists. A woman was striding toward them, tall and pretty, with a narrow frame and sleek muscles. She had cruel eyes, and they practically snapped with hate as they stared at her.
“This here is Eben’s little bitch,” Matthew said happily, absently wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “She’s sweet, too. No wonder he keeps her around.”
The woman, Angie, Gwen assumed, came forward, a sneer on her face as she studied her. “She’s a runt. Christ, what’s he thinking taking a little piece like this?”
“Maybe it’s not just her blood that’s sweet,” Matthew suggested lasciviously, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. Gwen shuddered and looked away from him.
Angie cocked her jaw and narrowed her eyes. Quick as lightning, her arm shot out and her fingers gripped Gwen’s jaw hard, jerking her head to the right, and then the left. “What’s he see in you, human girl? What makes you so special?” Angie leaned forward and drew Gwen’s scent deep into her lungs. “Christ,” she sneered, “you still smell like him. He probably fucked you just a few hours ago, didn’t he?”
Gwen shrank back from the woman’s resentment, but not quick enough. All at once, Angie’s hand came out and slapped her, so hard her ears rang.
Stars exploded before her eyes. She fell back and was about to go down when Matthew caught her and jerked her back to her feet with a vicious tug on her restraints. “Knock it off, Angie,” he growled, holding Gwen up with one arm. “She’s still got marks from that fuck-up Thomas. She doesn’t need any more beatings.”
“Fuck you,” Angie bit out angrily. “The little whore doesn’t need your protection. Do you think I’m going to let her fuck Theron into making her his mate?”
Matthew snorted. “God you’re a dumb cunt.”
Suddenly Angie screamed furiously, her hands reaching to scratch his eyes out. Matthew laughed and pulled Gwen behind his back and still managed to keep Angie away with one arm.
“Knock it off, you bitch.” He pushed her lightly and she fell back, only to spring to her feet and charge toward him again. Grabbing her by the hair violently, he threw her to the ground and smiled evilly. “I said,” he enunciated clearly, “knock it off.”
He turned to Gwen and she saw his eyes, changed and inhuman, pale yellow and spooky. “And you. Theron wants you ready in the barn.”
“If he’s going to fuck her, I want to fuck her!” Angie sat up, blood dripping from a gash on her chin.
“He may or may not,” Matthew said lazily. “But she dies either way. She saw him eating some bitch on a road a couple years back. Don’t know why he didn’t knock her off then.”
Angie wiped her face with the back of her hand, spreading blood along her cheek. “I don’t care. I want her first. I want her now!”
“You said she wanted Eben.” Gwen’s eyes went back and forth between them. She was about to meet the thing that caused her father’s death, but she couldn’t even focus on that while faced with these two. She looked
harder and harder between them, trying to decide who was the greater threat, but she couldn’t do it. Angie was downright crazy, but Matthew’s maniacal hilarity was just as dangerous.
“No,” Matthew drawled, “I said she wanted the power fucking him would give her. I don’t think she even likes dick.”
“Give her to me,” Angie ordered, her hands out, her fingers curled like claws.
Matthew folded his arms across his chest, forgetting Gwen for a minute. “I want to watch.”
Gwen didn’t think twice. She shoved her shoulder into the small of the big man’s back, turned around and began running for her life. Her feet couldn’t move fast enough as she heard Angie laugh at the sky, the sound more of a high-pitched bark, and Matthew’s bellow and snort as he joined the chase.
She headed for the trees, knowing it would be no contest and figuring the cover would help. She couldn’t get away, but she could try to make one of them angry enough to kill her outright. Death didn’t scare her—rape and torture did.
She ducked between trees, dodged around bushes, and all in all zigzagged as much as possible. She looked behind her, and saw no one, looked again, and saw the flash of a dark hide. Her heart immediately plummeted—they’d changed their skins.
Everything suddenly jerked to a halt as she tripped over a tree branch and fell onto her chest, so hard her breath whooshed out. Nothing moved for a second, and then the woods exploded. One of them landed on her back, heavy claws digging into her flesh. She screamed and tried to buck it off, but the creature stayed, already growling and drooling on her neck.
“Little bitch,” Angie said gutturally. Gwen shuddered beneath her, ready to try and kick her when another form came from the woods and plowed into the female Were. They went tumbling, and Gwen didn’t wait around. She clumsily got to her feet and started running again, the sounds of their fighting drowning out the heavy pounding of her heart.
It was only thirty seconds before she saw another flash of dark in the pale morning light. This time, it didn’t come from behind, but from the side, and Gwen was forced to veer right. Only then did she see the other Were, already waiting. It pounced, and she went down.
It snarled, its cock hanging out, red and ridged, ready to rip her apart. Matthew’s laugh came from the animal’s throat, deeper and far more terrifying than before.
“Pretty bitch,” he said through his Were mouth. “Gonna eat you up.” His clawed hand ripped at her shirt and scratched her breasts. Gwen tried to twist away, only to be stopped by Angie, who stood ready at the side, a wide gash open along her stomach.
She panted and drooled as she stared at them. “Give me a tasssste…”
Matthew snarled back at her and leapt off, guarding Gwen with a snap of his muzzle. Angie danced away, then circled and rushed him, locking onto his hind leg, tearing and clawing at him. They fell, both dominant and strong, and Gwen huddled against the snow, trying to get air into her lungs as she watched the horror play out in front of her.
They were evenly matched, she thought, turning on her side and watching through glazed eyes. Matthew was larger, but Angie was meaner, and in the end, with her muzzle coated in blood, she ripped his eye out with one swipe of her claws, and Matthew was left bleeding heavily, gasping through the pain as he fell aside.
“Now,” Angie said, slinking over to Gwen with her breath puffing out, “I’ll have my taste.”
Gwen kicked at her, and connected solidly with the Were’s muzzle. Angie’s head snapped to the side, a sharp bark of pain escaping from her throat.
When she turned back, her body trembled with rage. Her lips lifted in a warning snarl, and then she struck, latching onto Gwen’s calf, her teeth sinking into her flesh.
Gwen felt nothing except the intense pressure of the creature’s jaw. She held her for a moment, then jerked her entire body. Angie dropped Gwen’s leg and fell back, howling.
Gwen’s breath froze in her chest as she watched the Were. The creature’s head lowered again as her tongue came out and cleaned her muzzle. She eyed Gwen like she was a juicy roast, then her body collected, readying to strike.
Gwen tried to steady herself, and when Angie lunged, she closed her eyes and waited for the pain to start. It never came.
A new snarl, this one deeper and meaner, echoed in the woods. Gwen opened her eyes and inched back, staring as Eben leaped onto Angie, his hands deadly with claws, ripping her apart with little effort. The female Were growled and changed her attack, aiming for him, only to be caught in mid-leap, her head clenched between his hands. With one quick twist, her neck was broken. Eben roared and threw her to the side like so much trash.
“Come on!”
Gwen flinched away, but it was Connor, bending down and hurriedly lifting her in his arms. “We need to leave, right now.”
He ran from the woods with her clutched to his chest, looking behind him every few seconds. Gwen couldn’t help but stare at the massacre that was Eben as he laid the other Were dead, opening Matthew’s body from pelvis to neck with a vicious roar. Matthew put up little fight and died, blood streaming from his empty eye socket and his intestines spilling from his open abdomen.
“Don’t watch,” Connor ordered sharply, stopping next to the SUV and shoving her in the passenger side.
Jacques was there behind the wheel, revving the engine. “Come on! He’s already on the chase.”
Another roar shook the forest, this one so much deeper, containing ragged pain, forcing birds to suddenly depart their branches as they feared for their lives.
“Go,” Connor gritted out, jumping in behind Gwen and pulling the door closed. Jacques threw the vehicle in gear and they roared off, leaving the old farm behind. Gwen watched out the back as it grew smaller and smaller.
The drive seemed to take forever, when in reality it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. When they stopped the car, neither of the men moved. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Shhh.” Connor held his hand up, quieting her. Then after a minute of silence, he said softly, “Shit,” and threw his door open.
He helped Gwen out just as Jacques came around, ready to help.
“He’s close,” Connor said, picking her up and running to the front door.
Christian was there, holding it open and motioning them inside with a desperate wave of his hand, yelling, “Hurry!”
As soon as they were in, he slammed the door shut, locked it, and shoved three deadbolts home. Gwen watched through glazed eyes as he tugged over a huge trunk and started piling bags of what looked like sand against the door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked groggily. “Why are you acting like we’re about to be attacked?”
Christian added more bags, stacking them until they nearly covered the door. “Go take care of her,” he said, heaving another bag over. “Jacques and I can finish this.”
“Let me know if he tries to come through,” Connor ordered.
He took her through the living room, making sure to stay away from the windows, and carried her upstairs. As soon as he set her on the bed, Gwen rolled to her stomach. “Can you loose my hands?”
Connor went to the bathroom and came back with scissors. Once the bands were broken from her wrists, it took a few minutes before her circulation came back to her hands. When it did, the pain was worse than anything she’d experienced. She couldn’t help but cry as her nerves tingled back to life.
“Christ, you’re all messed up,” Connor muttered. He got a towel from the bathroom and pressed it to her wrists. “Hold still. I’ll be right back.”
He was gone a minute before returning with his medical supplies. He already had the bandages and gauze pulled out, and immediately set to work, cleaning up her wrists and applying antibiotic ointment.
“It’s ugly more than anything,” he said, peering into the wounds around her wrists. Gwen looked away and gritted her teeth until it was done.
After her wrists were bandaged, he looked at her back, which was heavily bruised more than a
nything, and then at her leg, which wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d feared. There were two puncture wounds, but they were clean and relatively small. The worst of the damage was heavy bruising, that went up nearly to her knee.
“Well, at least we don’t need to worry about rabies,” he quipped, taping a bandage over the wound, his eyes going to the window for a second before returning to her leg. “You’ll heal.”
Glancing at the window, Gwen asked, “What’s wrong?” Just then, the cry of a lone wolf cut the night. “Eben,” she whispered, answering her own question. Connor nodded.
He was close, close enough she knew she could see him if she looked out the window in the living room. His howl was long and lonely, and sad, she thought. It broke off, and then there was a minute of silence. When a heavy weight hit the house, making the walls vibrate from the force, Connor hung his head and whispered, “Shit.”
She stood up and whirled in a circle, trying to decide which side he was hitting. “What’s he doing?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“He’s trying to get you,” he said, following her nervous movements. “He fought for you and won, and now he wants you as his prize.”
“Wants me how?”
He stared at her, his eyes glittering. “He wants you in his pelt. He wants to mate. It’s imbedded in us, just like in other species that fight for mates. That’s why we got you out of there. He didn’t want you to have to take him like that, because he can’t help himself.”
“Oh, God.” She leaned against the wall for a minute, absorbing the idea. Eben was dominant and aggressive as a man. She couldn’t even think about what he’d be like in his changed form.
“He’s not going for the windows. Why?” she asked, as another hit racked the house.
“They’re specially made, reinforced. A bullet couldn’t even get through those windows, and he knows it, so he’s aiming elsewhere, hoping to break through.”
The house shook again from the force of his body. Christian came running up the stairs panting. “He’s trying to get through the south walls.”
Connor surged up. “Dammit!” he said, and they both left the bedroom.
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