Blake and Reed pumped into her, their hands gripping her flesh. They changed their rhythms, each pulling out then shoving back inside her. Almost in the same instant, their bodies stopped, stiffened, then jerked as they roared their releases. As though signaling her, an orgasm, stronger than any of the ones she’d had before, released and shuddered outward.
If she hadn’t known it before, she knew it now. For better or for worse, Blake, Reed, and Victor were her men for the rest of her life.
“Blake.”
Her lover moved to lie beside her then pressed his lips to hers. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
Reed skimmed his hand over her hip, along the curve of her side, and massaged the muscles at the base of her neck. “Me, too. And Victor. We’re yours anytime, anyway, anywhere.”
She met each of their gazes and sighed. Relaxing with Reed and Blake against her and Victor looking on, she closed her eyes and slept.
* * * *
Reed motioned to the other men to keep quiet as they got off the bed, grabbed their clothes, and left the room. After dressing in the living room, he pulled out the recording that his friend with the parks department had given him only an hour before Sam had shown up at their home.
“I didn’t want Sam to see this.” He clicked the video on. “This is from the surveillance cameras at the parking lot.”
“How’d you get it?” Victor eased onto the couch.
“My friend works for the park’s security team.” Reed sensed their unspoken question. “Don’t worry. He won’t report this. He’s one of us.”
They hunkered close to the monitor and watched the grainy video. For several minutes, nothing happened. Then a dark image jumped on top of Reed’s pickup.
“That’s him.” Blake moved even closer. “I can’t see the scar from here, but I’d bet my last dime we’re watching the same werewolf that’s gone after Sam twice. The same one that killed my father.”
The werewolf raked its claws over the top of the truck then jumped onto the hood. Bending low, it dug its claws into the metal and formed two lines of claw marks from the windshield to the grill.
“Keep watching,” instructed Reed. “The best part’s coming up.”
They focused on the video again. The werewolf leapt off the truck then sauntered to the middle of the parking lot. The image blurred as the werewolf changed, and in a matter of minutes, a naked man stood where the werewolf had been.
“Does anyone recognize him?”
“Yeah. I do.” Victor’s features scrunched into a furious mask.
Blake stared at the image. “I know him, too.”
Chapter Nine
The growl in Victor’s voice grew deeper. “His name’s either Burl or Burke. I don’t know which, because he said both names the night he put the moves on Sam at the diner. I wrote him off as a jerk that had learned his lesson and never gave him another thought.”
He hated that he’d let the guy slip through his fingers. If he’d paid more attention, Sam wouldn’t have been in any danger after that.
Reed caught his eye. “There was no way for you to know.”
“The scar’s a dead giveaway. But we’ve got another chance now. I’ve seen him a couple of times when I drove by coming from the liquor store. He hangs out at that dive bar by the old Swanson hotel. What’s it called? Oh, yeah. The Sidewinder Saloon. Figures he’d go to a bar named after a snake.” Blake stood and headed for the door.
“Hold up, man.” Victor’s gut was twisted with rage, but he had to keep a clear head.
“Asshole. I’d like to shove a hot poker up his ass.” Reed punched the off button as the video came to an end.
“You know what the tracks on your pickup were, don’t you?” Victor rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans, trying to get the itch to strangle the man off his skin. “That was a warning. He’s telling us to stay away.”
“You’re not telling us to back off, are you?”
He snorted, dismissing Reed’s question. “Like hell we will. We’re going after him.”
“Should we leave Sam a note telling her where we’ve gone?” Reed dug in the drawer of the side table.
“Naw. But let’s get Luke across the street to keep his eyes peeled just in case. He can give me a call if he sees anything suspicious happening around the house.” Victor knew the werebear that lived across from them. Luke was trustworthy and dependable.
Although he’d rather have a werecat or a werewolf watching over her, a werebear wasn’t a bad option. They could move faster than anyone gave them credit for, even though they weren’t as sneaky as a werecat or as quick as a werewolf.
Reed and Blake followed him out of the house as he got on his phone and asked Luke to handle anything that came up.
“And tell me if she leaves, too.” He ended the call and hopped into the backseat of Blake’s Range Rover. “Let’s haul ass.”
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of the Sidewinder Saloon. The place wasn’t more than a barn that the original owner had converted into a bar. Peeling paint decorated the walls, and a sign that had half the letters burned out wouldn’t convince anyone with any taste to walk through its doors. Even shifters who preferred out-of-the-way bars weren’t likely to frequent the dive. The Swanson Hotel didn’t fare any better by comparison, although most of its clientele found the bar to their liking.
“Let’s see if our boy is inside.” Victor was out of the vehicle and stalking toward the door. He could hear the others’ footsteps behind him as their feet made crunching sounds on the gravel.
He shoved the heavy, windowless door open and took a few steps inside. His werewolf eyes adjusted quickly to the dim lighting and smoke-filled room. Too bad he couldn’t shut off his werewolf sense of smell. The stench of smoke, body odors, stale food, and alcohol burned his nostrils.
Reed shook his head. “Let’s get this over with before the hairs in my nose singe away.”
“There he is.” Blake thrust out his chin at an older man sitting at the end of the bar. The man nursed a drink, keeping his hand gripped around a bottle of whiskey. His black hair was receding and he had a paunch around his middle, but he looked like he was in good shape for his age.
Victor led the way again until he stood right behind the object of their hunt. “Hey, Burke.”
When the man didn’t answer, Reed tapped him on the shoulder. “Burl, is that you?”
Burl spun around on his stool and glared at them. A few days’ worth of stubble covered his jawline, and bloodshot eyes narrowed at them. “Who the hell wants to know?”
“We do.” Victor fisted his hands to keep from yanking the man to the floor. “We’re friends of Samantha Chambers. You remember Sam, don’t you? The pretty waitress you tried to maul at Tony’s Diner?”
Recognition lit up his eyes, and the snarl on his face faltered. Victor could smell the alarm wafting off him.
“Never heard of her.”
Burl pushed the stool, attempting to face the bar again, but Reed grabbed his arm and held him fast. “Maybe you remember her as the woman you tried to attack.” Reed leaned closer. “You know, when you’re in your werewolf form.”
Victor’s phone rang, but he ignored the call. He was too fixed on Burl to pay attention to whoever was calling him. After all, if Burl was here, then Sam wasn’t in any danger.
Burl stood up and tried to push Reed away, but Reed shoved his forearm into Burl’s barrel chest and knocked him against the edge of the bar. “Where you going, buddy? We want to have a nice long talk with you.”
“A not-so-nice talk is closer to the truth.” Blake eased closer, putting his body between Burl and the front door.
* * * *
Sam couldn’t decide if she was angry or flattered that the men had decided to confront the man who had attacked her. She’d awakened seconds after the men had left the bedroom, and when she heard their hushed voices in the living room, she’d waited until they’d left to hurry into the room.
/> Where had they gone? Why did they go without her or at least leave her a note? She plopped down on the couch, accidentally turning on the On button of the CD player. The image of a werewolf changing into a man stopped her cold.
She watched, her breath hitching in her throat. The werewolf she’d caught on her surveillance camera was the same one that was in the parking lot footage. Yet instead of watching a man turn into a werewolf, she watched as the werewolf changed into a man she recognized. He was the man at the diner, but he was more. The scar running along his right shoulder was enough for her to know that he was the werewolf who had tried to hurt her.
But where did they go? “Oh, shit.” They’ve gone to find him.
She stood and paced to the front door. Her mind whirled, trying to remember what she’d overheard. They’d talked about Burl or Burke or whatever his name was. Then they’d mentioned something about a dive bar where the man liked to go.
What was the name of it? The Snake Saloon? No. It’s the nickname for a snake. Sam rushed back to the living room and stared at the monitor again.
A snake. A rattlesnake? She stopped as the answer hit her. People call rattlesnakes sidewinders. That’s it. The Sidewinder Saloon.
She snatched up her satchel and keys and burst through the door running. If they planned on cornering the werewolf at the Sidewinder Saloon, she wanted to be right by their side.
Jumping into her car, she turned on the ignition and stomped the gas pedal to the floor. She whipped the Jeep into the street then yanked it back toward the corner as a large, burly man jumped in front of her. She’d almost hit him, but when she looked back through the rearview mirror, she saw that he was still on his feet and waving a cell phone at her.
She didn’t know who he was or what he wanted, but it didn’t matter. Taking the roads at a breakneck speed, she prayed she’d reach the bar in time. Her men were strong and brave, but could they handle a werewolf?
Luck was with her when she made every green light. She pulled the Jeep into the parking lot and let out a ragged breath when she spotted Blake’s Range Rover. She parked then grabbed her satchel, opened it, and reached inside to place her hand over her gun.
If only I’d put more than two silver bullets in it.
If she hadn’t gotten involved in getting the footage from the cameras, she might’ve remembered to do so. But two bullets were all she had, so they’d have to do.
She strode to the bar’s door with the satchel thrown over her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and entered the room. Smells, none of which were pleasant, hit her, bringing stinging tears to her eyes. She covered her nose and mouth then waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
“Sam?”
She squinted toward the bar. Reed, Blake, and Victor stood in a semicircle around the man from the surveillance footage.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
As soon as Reed said the words, Burl grabbed a whiskey bottle off the counter and smashed it over Reed’s head. She screamed as Reed’s body went limp.
Victor caught Reed before he hit the floor, and Burl took off running toward the rear of the bar. Blake pointed at her, stopping her in her tracks as she headed for Reed, then shouted for her to get out. Once she’d nodded, he turned and ran after Burl. Victor held Reed in his arms and shot her an angry look then echoed Blake’s command for her to leave.
Sam backed out of the bar. The breeze flowed over her, and she sucked in the fresh air.
“Now I’ve got you, bitch.”
She whirled around and straight into Burl’s fist. Pain and shock ripped into her, jarring her and sending the world spinning. The side of her face felt like it was on fire, but she had no breath to cry out. She slipped to the ground and landed on her back. Staring up at Burl, she watched as he rifled through her satchel and brought out the gun.
“Sam!”
She groaned and rolled to her side just in time to see Blake hurl his body at him. A shot rang out, and Blake jerked backward. She heard a thud as his body hit the ground. “Blake!”
Her attacker’s snarling face floated above her. White fangs erupted from his gums, and his amber eyes glowed with victory. “Don’t worry about him, bitch. He’s coming with us.”
She blinked, trying to make the world stop weaving. “Blake.” Reed’s and Victor’s names were muffled as she lost the battle and darkness overtook her.
* * * *
Pain seared through Blake’s shoulder. He could hear a man talking and tried to force his mind to work.
Why can’t I move my arms?
At last his eyes focused, and he almost wished they hadn’t. Sam was across from him, tied to a tree just as he was. A campfire roared between them, giving them the only light. The moon was hidden behind a cloudy sky, making the world under the canopy of the trees even darker.
He struggled, ignoring the agony his movements made. Sucking in air, he looked at the blood streaming down his arm.
Why haven’t I healed yet?
The man came from behind the tree with Sam’s gun in his hand and grinned at him. “Silver bullets make a mess, don’t they? Not only do they tear through your hide just like regular bullets, but they keep you from healing. What’s a shifter to do, huh?”
Sam’s beautiful hair was tangled, her shirt torn to expose the swell of one breast. She stared at their captor, confusion etched into her brow. “Blake, are you okay?”
He smiled at her, wanting to lessen her distress. “I’m good. How are you?”
“Isn’t this sweet? She’s worried about you.”
Sam glared at him. “Who are you? Is it Burl or Burke? Or just plain Scum.”
“Burl’s the name. Your pain is my gain.” Burl cackled and leaned closer to Blake. “She doesn’t know what you are, does she?”
“What’s he talking about?” Sam jerked her body, trying to loosen the rope binding her to the tree.
Burl glanced at Sam then back to him. “Isn’t this fun? You haven’t told your mate-to-be what you are. How sad is that? Are you afraid she’ll hate you once she finds out you’re like me?”
“I’m nothing like you.” The urge for his inner beast to come out was strong, but he had to hold it back. If he shifted now, Burl would shoot him again, and Sam wouldn’t have a chance.
Burl straightened up, stalked over to the campfire, and held the gun in both hands. “I have to thank you, bitch, for bringing the gun. I doubt I could’ve stopped old Blake here without it.”
He placed the gun on a flat rock then picked up the iron poker lying next to the fire and stuck it into the fire. “Sam, sugar, would you like to know a secret about your man? A secret about all your men? I’ve done my research, you see, and found out something very interesting about them. Not that it was difficult. They’re fairly well known. At least among people like us.”
“I’d like to shove that poker up your ass instead.”
Although Blake was proud she was strong and ready to fight, he couldn’t help but wish she’d keep her mouth closed. Antagonizing their attacker wouldn’t help. He needed to direct Burl’s anger away from Sam.
“Talk to me, prick head. Or can’t you handle a man?”
Burl grabbed the poker and held it up in the air. The last four inches of the iron burned brightly. “I’m handling you just fine, aren’t I?”
He paced over to stand in front of Blake. Although the red glow had gone from the poker, Blake had no doubt that the end was still hot as hell.
“Untie me and we’ll see how well you can handle me.” If taunting him kept him away from Sam, then it was worth anything that might happen to him.
Burl held the hot poker an inch from Blake’s face. “What do you think she’ll say once you get a nasty-looking scar on your cheek? Do you think she’ll want you between her legs?”
He twisted around to glare at Sam. “What about you, bitch? Does a scar make a man more appealing? Sexier?”
“Nothing in the world could make you sexy.” Sam’s
eyes sparkled with hatred.
Blake’s wolf clawed at his insides, ready to tear the man apart. He yanked at his ropes, his anger getting the better of his control.
“Don’t even try, pretty boy. You can’t break those ropes. At least, not as a man.” His lips pulled back into an evil grin. “Unless, of course, you want to change. Then you might be able to break them.”
“Blake? What’s he trying to say?”
He pulled his gaze away from Sam. Should he shift and save her? Or would shifting change the way she felt about him? He had to believe that Reed and Victor were searching for them. If he could hold on until they came, he wouldn’t have to shift in front of her, scaring her and perhaps losing her for good.
“Come on, man. Show the lady.”
Burl placed the hot poker against Blake’s shoulder. Agony ripped into him, more painful than the gunshot wound. Blake roared even as he gritted his teeth to keep the sound inside him. His inner werewolf snarled, clawing at him to be set free.
Burl pulled the poker away only to put it in the fire again. He came back and with a gleeful laugh and stuck the poker against Blake’s cheek. Blake screamed in pain, unable to keep silent.
“Stop it! Stop hurting him. You’re an animal!”
Burl whirled around to snarl at her. “I’m an animal? Oh, sweet slut, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Watch and learn.”
Blake prepared for more torment as Burl set the scalding iron against his chest, burning a hole through his shirt to sear into his skin. Again, he couldn’t hold back his cry as the fire scorched his body.
“Change. Show her what you really are.”
Five times more, Burl laid the poker into the fire then brought it back to torment Blake. Five times more, Blake withstood the agony, refusing to shift.
Burl glared at him. “Why won’t you change and save her, asshole?” He paused and studied him. “It’s more than not wanting to reveal your true self, isn’t it? Are you waiting for the others to come and rescue you?”
Jane Jamison Page 12