by Layla Nash
The blonde waved his hand in front of me and I blinked, forcing my attention back to him, and the smile returned. "There we go. Just one question, and answer me honestly — did you willingly join the Auction? You wanted to find a mate through the fights?"
His blue eyes mesmerized me. I couldn't look away. He was powerful, a strong leader, and he held me captive with just a look. The room swam around me but he remained perfectly steady, perfectly clear. I hadn't felt that way about a man since... God help me.
It took me a few tries to get my mouth to work, but I managed to whisper, "No. Didn't want —"
Before I could get another syllable out, the alpha lurched to his feet. "She's lying. That's bullshit. You already signed —"
The bear stood as well, massive shoulders straining his coat, and held his hands out. "Don't do anything you're going to regret, friend."
"Fuck off," the beta said, and even without seeing the bear's face, I knew that was a bad move.
The blonde squeezed my shoulder as he got up, then faced the two wolves. "You've broken the code and definitely the law. You'll face the Alphas Council, and they will determine your punishment."
"Not likely." The alpha shoved the table toward the two strangers and headed for the door. It swung in and he shouted into the hall, "It's a trap," and then chaos broke out everywhere.
Shouting and growling and grunting reached me from the hallway, men shoving and fighting, and then someone took a swing at the blonde and he lost it. The dress shirt he wore tore at the seams as he tackled the beta who'd threatened me, and I wobbled to my feet as a stray kick reduced my chair to splinters. I leaned on the wall but the alpha grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the hall. He muttered, "You'll pay for this one way or another," and I growled.
The bear snarled and threw the beta into the hall, roaring for someone named Benedict to stop fucking around and fight. I blinked, struggling as much as I could with the alpha gripping my arms, and desperately wished I could shift. The room was too small to fight as a wolf, but a wolverine would tear that place up. They'd never know what hit them.
Except — the strength drained from my limbs and I nearly fell to the ground as someone body-checked the alpha into the door. I looked up to see the blonde lean over the guy, then I blinked up at a tall, skinny guy with a similar cast to his features. He smiled and said, "So you started all this trouble, hm?"
I wanted to deny it, to tell him to go fuck himself, but the room tilted and I fell. He caught me before I hit the ground and helped me brace against the wall. Sound distorted as I watched his mouth move but couldn't understand anything he said. I couldn't breathe. Felt hot and cold all over. My hands shook as I tried to hold the door frame, tried to hold myself up as a battle raged in the hallway. The sharp tang of blood stung my nose and I flinched, searching for the source. Shouting rang in my ears. I needed to sit down. If I sat down for just a moment, I would feel better and could get on with escaping.
Everything turned a little gray, a little muddled, and I slid down the wall.
The skinny guy said, "Edgar, over here," and the blonde froze as he looked up.
At me. At the skinny dude. At the blood that streaked the door jamb and covered the skinny dude's hands where he tried to hold me. Even through the chaos in the hallway, his words landed like rocks around me. "She's hurt. He hurt her."
Everything blurred, but a roar from inside the room rattled my brain and the walls around me. The skinny guy held me up, tried to hustle me out of the way of the brawling men, but something exploded out of the small room in a cloud of gold fur and dark claws. More blood coated the walls and everyone started running. The skinny guy shouted something at me, patted at my back and shoulders and arms as if searching for something, but my mind fixated on the enormous lion raging down the narrow hall, leaving a wake of bodies and white-faced allies.
I blinked again and then the lion stood in front of me, face and chest stained red. He nosed my hip and thigh, a concerned grumble vibrating from his chest, and I frowned down at him as everything else grew dark. A lion. I reached to steady myself on him, rather than the skinny guy, but pitched forward and kept falling into darkness.
Chapter 4
Edgar had not intended to shift. He wanted to punch the smug bastards in the face, not claw them to pieces. It would have been far more satisfying to see the alpha who'd sold her standing in front of the Council, answering for his crimes. But when Benedict said, "She's hurt," something broke loose in Edgar's head. The lion would not be denied, and though Edgar knew the girl wasn't his mate — she couldn't be his mate, it wasn't possible — the urge to protect and defend her overwhelmed him.
And that pissed him off. He hadn't lost control like that since right after Anna died, when the idea of living was so painful he couldn't face himself in the mirror.
He scowled as he stalked through the resort, Atticus at his side, and searched for additional perpetrators. Owen, the easy-going medic from Kaiser's den of bears, loitered after them as if on a Sunday stroll, though his combat experience in Iraq showed through as he methodically cleared room after room with only a pistol. Edgar liked Owen well enough, but that didn't mean he wanted non-family around when he felt like he was fraying around the edges.
The rest of the pride, and most of the O'Shea pack, helped sort through the willing and unwilling outside. Most were shocked to learn that there was a seedier side of the Auction, but the alphas of the BloodMoon pack were jaded enough to question the veracity of even the most wide-eyed innocent. Including the pink princess who still thought he and Kaiser were a couple. Edgar snorted, shaking his head, then waved away Atticus's raised-eyebrow question. The bears had strange senses of humor.
Edgar's teeth ground as he caught the scent of more wolves, a few cats, and turned toward the southern end of the resort. As soon as the rest of the pride arrived, Logan took one look at Edgar and recommended he spend time in the emptier parts of the resort, the lion still too close to the surface to deal with the general shifter public. And Logan certainly didn't trust Edgar to guard the organizers, isolated in two separate rooms until the rest of the Council arrived, or the surviving members of the pack that had sold Ivy.
So Edgar hunted through the back rooms and bowels of the resort, searching for the holding area where other unwilling girls might be hidden. The four or five he'd seen couldn't have been enough for the crowd of men wanting to bid — there had to be more. Somewhere. They'd already interrupted the escape of the men who'd successfully fought and purchased the first three girls in the Auction, and handed the girls over to Carter to calm down and check over.
Atticus didn't speak, only followed as Edgar stormed through the empty halls. A maid in a pastel uniform jumped out of their way as Edgar nearly overturned her cart, dodging at the last minute to avoid it, and Atticus grumbled instructions for the woman to return to the breakroom and wait there until the management arrived. Edgar kept going, trying to concentrate on the myriad smells and emotions in the still air of the hotel as the hint of nervous wolf faded. He had to find the girls. Had to find them. They might be hurt, like...
His fists clenched and he lurched to a stop as the lion flexed. Snarled. Wanted to return immediately to the room he'd rented at the resort, where Ivy lay unconscious. Edgar struggled, for the first time in a very long time, to control his lion. The beast had been quiet over the years, after his mate died, as if resigned to living without passion. Living without anything except anger and grief. And then that girl fought so desperately to save herself, and the bastards hurt her... The growl increased.
Atticus cleared his throat, standing back and not making eye contact. "She's as safe as she can be right now, man. Eloise is with her, guarding her, and you know no one is getting past Crazy Eyes."
Edgar gritted his teeth, staring down the hall ahead of him as he wrestled with the lion. "Logan only put her there because he doesn't trust Eloise to guard the sons of bitches who tried to buy the girls without turning them all to stone."
"She's not mine. She's just — hurt." It was a lame way to finish that sentence, and they both knew it. But Edgar couldn't think of anything else to add with Owen standing behind them, staring at the ceiling and humming tunelessly. She couldn't be his. He'd already lost his shot at happiness. His mate was dead. This girl just reminded him a little of his Anna, that was all. That was the only explanation for why his lion killed to avenge her pain. "Let's go."
Atticus followed in silence as Edgar searched, chafing against his youngest brother's judgment and the pants he borrowed after shifting shredded his favorite jeans. Yet another reason to hate the guys who sold Ivy — it would take him forever to break in another pair of jeans like that. They'd been perfect. He pushed away thoughts of whether someone might be able to save the jeans as a whiff of fear and rage drifted from a southward corridor. Atticus sensed it too, tensing next to him, and Edgar glanced down the long hall. Two armed men guarded a pair of doors, scanning the hall for any threats.
Atticus reached for a pistol from the back of his jeans but Edgar waved him off. Even silver bullets didn't always stop shifters, and he didn't want the bastards to have enough time to duck into the room and hurt the girls. Edgar started to strip, using hand gestures to communicate his plan to Atticus and Owen so there was no chance the wolves would overhear, and when Atticus nodded, his expression one of long-suffering exasperation, Edgar shifted.
He felt freer as a lion, if burdened by a sense of grief greater than even in human form. Somehow, the lion felt Anna's loss more keenly. Edgar hadn't been able to shift for years after her death. The first time he tried, he nearly got stuck in lion form and walked into the woods to die. Only Logan pulled him back.
Edgar shook off the thought and paced down a parallel hall to sneak up behind the guards. When he paused in a side corridor only a few feet beyond the guards, he stepped on the radio he'd carried. The click signaled Atticus, who was supposed to cause a distraction. The distraction turned out to be Owen, who stepped into the hall and called to the guards, "We're ready for the next three."
Edgar would have cursed if his lion mouth could have managed it. Stupid bear and his death wish. But it worked — the guards faced him, weapons ready, and one frowned. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Jones sent me," Owen said cheerfully as Edgar snuck up behind the guards, placing each paw carefully so he barely disturbed the air. "Didn't you get the call?"
Just as one of the guards raised his pistol to aim at Owen's head, Edgar leapt. His front paws collided with both guards, knocking them face-down on the carpet of the hall, and he snarled. Dug his claws into the men as they tried to maneuver their weapons. Atticus strolled up and dropped Edgar's clothes next to the prone men. "Change back, brother. We've got this."
Edgar hesitated, for a wild moment wanting to shred the guards as well. They had to know where the girls would end up. Any real man would have helped them, not imprisoned them. The lion growled.
Owen retrieved the shotgun and pistols the men carried, leaning under Edgar's bulk to search for additional weapons, then straightened and jerked his chin down the hall. "We can take a walk if you have business to take care of, Edgar."
"He's not going to —" Atticus started, but Owen held up his hand to cut off the younger man, expression difficult to decipher.
The bear's voice was so quiet even Edgar's lion hearing almost missed his words. "Sometimes justice comes quietly and alone. Maybe we need to take a walk."
One of the men under his claws gurgled and struggled, and Edgar leaned more heavily on him to cut off the man's air. Atticus started to look alarmed when Edgar didn't immediately move. "Brother, you can't."
He could. Edgar knew he could. It would be so easy. The rage of seeing Ivy collapse, covered in blood and smelling only like fear and pain, sustained him. He could rip the men to shreds and not regret it for a moment. The lion wanted to, ached to feel them come apart in his claws. And that made him pause. That way lay madness and zero control.
Owen waited, the appropriated shotgun turned back on the guards, and shrugged when Edgar backed away. Edgar shifted back to human, breathing hard and not meeting Atticus's gaze, and dressed as quickly as possible. Owen trussed the guards up like Christmas turkeys, then radioed back to the rest of the group for extra help to guard them.
The bear glanced at Atticus and said, "Keep an eye on them, big guy?" but didn't wait for an answer. He looked at Edgar with a critical eye, then nodded at the double doors. "I'll be the first in the door, brother."
"I can —"
"If their pal is on the inside and takes a shot, I'd rather it get me than you. You've got to worry about that lovely young lady waiting on the other side of the hotel. All I've got is bad memories and shrapnel." He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes, and Edgar wanted to give the kid a beer. Maybe something stronger. Owen sighed, turning his attention to the doors. "Besides, you still look like you want to murder someone, and I'd rather the ladies see my pretty face than your ugly mug first off."
Edgar bent to retrieve another pistol. "Fine. But for the record, your friend Kaiser thinks I'm a good-looking dude."
Atticus snorted. Owen grinned, then kicked in one of the double doors and launched into the dark room. Edgar followed close behind, struggling to see and aim in the pitch black, and braced himself for a barrage of bullets or a machete or something. Nothing happened. Then Owen made a startled "Oof" noise and the sound of ripe melon hitting the ground sent Edgar's adrenaline surging.
He managed to find the light switch just in time to duck as a chair sailed at his head. Edgar frowned, lowering his pistol as he scanned the room — half a dozen women, in various stages between terrified and pissed as hell, stared at him. One pinned Owen to the ground. Edgar took a breath to order her to release the bear, but paused as Owen looked up at the girl, a dazzled expression on his face.
The bear grinned, looking a little breathless. "Hi. I'm Owen. Nice to meet you."
The girl kept an arm-bar across his throat, clearly less enchanted than the kid. "We're walking out of here, and you're not going to stop us."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Owen remained sprawled underneath her, arms over his head and shotgun forgotten, and managed to look like he'd planned the whole thing. "I've got a car, if you want it? There's only half a tank of gas, and one of the tires needs air, but it should get you to where..."
"Jesus, Owen." Edgar pinched the bridge of his nose and holstered the pistol. "Have some pride, man."
"It's not every day an angel falls from heaven and lands on me, Edgar." Owen lifted his head enough to shoot Edgar a dirty look. "So give us some privacy, will you?"
Edgar sighed, rubbing his temples, and held up his hands to get the attention of the rest of the women — most of whom carried makeshift weapons or guarded those who couldn't defend themselves. "We're here to help you. You're free."
"We can help ourselves," the girl sitting on Owen said, leaning to retrieve his shotgun, and the bear made a grumbly pleased noise as she expertly checked that it was loaded. She gave the bear a dark look, a deep southern accent making her words drip like honey. "And we're all leaving. Alone."
"Absolutely. No one will stop you." Edgar clicked his radio and listened for a response from the rest of the team. Atticus spoke to someone in the hall, so reinforcements had arrived. "We've shut down the Auction. We would like to take statements from you all, then you're free to go wherever you want. We'll make sure you've got whatever you need before you head out."
The girl shoved off Owen, kneeing him in the side though the bear never stopped smiling, and scowled at Edgar. She had beautiful dark eyes. "And who the hell are you?"
Before he could say anything, Owen went up on one elbow to watch her, for all the world lounging around on the floor because he wanted to and not b
ecause he'd been tackled. "He's Edgar fucking Chase, darling, and I'm Owen. It's lovely to meet you."
Edgar scowled; so apparently Kaiser couldn't keep his mouth shut.
The girl snorted, for the first time relaxing her grip on the shotgun as she eyed Edgar but tilted her head at the bear on the floor. "Is he always like this?"
"Fortunately, no." Edgar glanced into the hall, then nodded to the other women. "You're safe. The men responsible have all been captured. If there are others you want to implicate in what happened to you, we'll take those names and investigate."
The women helped each other, some of the terrified ones barely able to walk without assistance, and filtered into the hall. Owen's girl aimed a sharp kick to the junk of one of the guards, pausing for a moment with the shotgun barrel pressed against the man's throat, and the bears and lions and wolves in the hall watched her in silence. Neither Edgar nor Owen, nor any of them, would stop her.
One of the other women, with long dark hair in a tangled cascade down her back, caught the girl's arm. "It's not worth it, Sidda."
The southern girl didn't move for a long time, then scowled and handed the shotgun to Owen. "Fine."
The bear followed on her heels, already in love, and Edgar stood back to supervise as the O'Shea pack roughed up the guards and frog-marched them back towards the holding area. Because the guards and most of the perpetrators were wolves, it fell to the O'Sheas and the other wolf pack in the city to administer justice. Edgar had no doubts about what that would look like, but for once it was nice to stand back as someone else did the work.
Kaiser, frowning as he watched Owen trip over himself to guide the girls back towards the main part of the resort, shuffled up to lean on the wall next to Edgar. "What the hell is wrong with that kid?"