by S. Young
Her upper lip curled. “I’m not at full strength.”
“Aye, well, I suppose we’ll see how we get on when you are.” He took hold of her wrists and brought them down behind her back.
Thea squirmed, and he tightened his hold, knowing it must be painful, but she never showed it. “Let’s go.”
“You really think I’ll believe you’re the world’s best bloodhound without testing that theory?”
He heard the warning in her voice.
In the name of expedience, he transferred his hold on her to one hand and quickly pulled the syringe out of his back pocket. Just like that, the coppery, blood-like tang of her terror filled his nostrils and Conall forced down a prickle of guilt. He couldn’t imagine she felt guilty about all the people she’d murdered. He didn’t want to use the drug now that he knew it messed with his ability to track her, but she didn’t know that. “Easy way … or hard way?”
“I … I can pay you more than Ashforth.”
“By stealing from people. No thanks.” Conall kept the syringe in one hand while he yanked open the door and quickly grabbed her arm with the other. His huge hand wrapped easily around her small biceps. For a tall woman with generous assets, she felt fragile and small beneath his touch. Most human females did.
But she wasn’t human, he reminded himself, as he yanked her out into the hallway.
“I would think someone who is mercenary enough to hunt a woman he knows nothing about for money wouldn’t care where the money comes from.”
Conall stopped and hauled her close, bending to enunciate the words in her face so she could make no mistake about his determination to finish this job. “Ashforth isn’t paying me. Someone important to me is dying and I hear you’re the cure. I bring you to Ashforth to answer for murdering his wife, and he’ll give me some of your blood.”
If she felt anything about this information, she did a wonderful job of not showing it. Instead, she tilted her chin in defiance. “I’ll give you some of my blood, if you’ll just let me go.”
“No can do.” He shook his head and continued to pull her down the hall with him. “I struck a bargain with this man and my word is my honor.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” she sneered, trying, and failing, to yank free of his hold.
Conall gritted his teeth and held on tighter. If she kept fighting him, he’d inadvertently hurt her. Stupid lass. “Keep moving.”
She stopped as they entered the stairwell. “Seriously. My life is more important than your goddamn honor.”
“There’s a trail of bodies from the East Coast of the US through mainland Europe that makes the latter questionable.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Exasperated, wishing he could drug her without causing her pain or him to lose his connection to her, Conall let the growl show in his voice. “Let’s cease talking entirely.”
To his surprise and relief, she did.
8
Thea had spent a good few hours recuperating in the tiny room of the hostel, feeling her strength slowly come back.
Do you know what she didn’t feel?
That internal goddamn warning system that alerted her to danger! Conall was standing right outside her door when she heard him. Not felt him. Heard him!
Her internal warning system was broken.
Or so she thought.
As the bastard hauled her none-too-gently down the rear stairwell of the building, it took Thea a moment to feel the warning because her heart rate was already speeding. But the prickle of heat down her neck and spine, the overwhelming feeling of dread, alerted her.
Conall abruptly stopped, his hold tightening as he scowled down at her. “What is it?”
Thea scowled back. “What?”
“Your scent changed. Not fear … but something like it.”
He could smell her emotions? Well, that was invasive. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Stay out of my … scent.”
His growl was intimidating. The guy was huge. But thankfully he kept moving. However, that feeling didn’t wane and Thea began to realize it wasn’t about the Scot. There was danger waiting for them outside.
Great. Her instincts were working. They’d merely decided the werewolf hunting her wasn’t a threat. She gave an internal huff and prepared herself for whatever was coming. She could warn Conall there was something dangerous outside but why would she do that when she could use whatever it was as a distraction to escape?
The big bad wolf had just pushed open the fire door that led out into the parking lot when he went rigid. His grip on her became painful as he stared out into the shadowed lot.
“Someone’s here. A threat.” He glared down at her. “You felt them.”
She shrugged.
“You could have warned me.”
“I could have.”
“Brat,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped carefully out into the lot. He kept a hold on Thea but positioned her partially behind him.
That’s when the first shot fired.
Conall was a blur of movement as he turned to cover her body with his. She felt him jerk and grunt seconds before he pushed her behind a car.
Shocked, Thea stared at his strained features as he slumped against the wall. He’d taken a bullet for her.
What …
More bullets punched through the wall above them as Conall growled. He tried to get up but pain darkened his eyes as he collapsed.
Okay.
Maybe he took more than one bullet.
“Stay,” she ordered, turning toward the gunfire.
Two different directions.
Two gunmen.
“Dinnae.” He grabbed her wrist, his hold still strong. “Dinnae even think about it.”
She wrenched her arm away as he struggled to stand. “We’re sitting ducks.”
Conall slouched over, the color draining from his face. “Silver.” He winced in agony. “The bullets are silver. Know … know I’m a werewolf.”
Thea had read books on supernaturals and in some, they stated silver was poison to a werewolf. She’d always wondered if it was true and if so, why? Guess this was proof. But she still didn’t understand the why.
Not that it mattered.
It just meant it was up to her to deal with the shooters. Whoever they were.
Peeking around the car she saw a shadowed fighter behind a white sedan less than a hundred yards away. Thea pulled back as he fired again.
She braced herself, one hand to the wall, one to the car. And then she pushed off, a streak of movement so fast, not even the quickest supernatural could hit her.
Although Conall had certainly been fast enough to grab her, she remembered, disconcerted. But that was a worry for another time. She had more immediate problems.
One second Thea was behind the car.
Next second, she was behind the shooter, ripping the gun out of his hand and pressing it to his temple. She used his body as a shield against the other gunman somewhere on the opposite side of the lot. She peered around him, searching, and found a woman with a gun pointed at her.
“You’re both human.” Thea dug the gun into the man’s head.
She felt him tremble. “Don’t kill me.” He was English. Huh.
“Weird request coming from a guy who just tried to kill me.”
“Not you. Silver bullets won’t kill you. Our client said so. Those were for the wolf … to get him out of the way.”
“Willis, shut up!” the woman yelled.
Sirens filled the air in the distance.
Thea bit out a curse. “Looks like we don’t have a lot of time. Who sent you?”
“I can’t. They’ll kill me.”
Frustration ripped through Thea. The sirens were getting closer, and she had no time to interrogate the humans. With a growl of anger that would have impressed even Conall, she took the butt of the gun and cracked it across the back of the shooter’s head. He crumpled to the ground.
The female fired at Thea as she dashed across the parking lot, but no one could hit a target that moved as speedily as she did. Thea snapped the gun out of the shooter’s hand and threw a punch with enough strength behind it to knock out a guy Conall’s size.
After, she wiped down the gun and left it by the unconscious woman’s side, deciding to leave the shooters there as a gift for the Polish police. It would give Thea time to get out of Dodge.
With those sirens growing steadily closer, Thea glanced back at the car where Conall laid injured. The facts were that the wolf was trying to deliver her to her greatest enemy.
However, he’d also put himself in front of her when bullets began flying.
She knew it wasn’t because he cared.
He needed her alive.
Still … if she left him, he would die.
“Not your problem,” Thea said through gritted teeth and started to walk away.
The guilt stopped her three strides in.
“Oh, fuck!” She spun around and raced back to where he was lying, eyes shut, beads of sweat rolling down his temples. “Wolf Boy?”
His eyes snapped open. They were mostly icy gray except for the rim of dark gray around the edge of the iris. Wolf eyes. Compellingly vivid. “I told you … dinnae call me that,” he grunted.
“Can you get up if I help?”
Conall’s expression was suspicious. “Why would you help?”
“Do you want to die here or not?” she snapped, bending down to slide an arm around his wide, strong back. His shirt was wet with blood. She pulled him up to his feet, and he grunted, sounding surprised.
“Fuck, you’re strong,” he grunted, clinging onto her.
She got him across the lot and opened the back door of his car. When she pushed him in, she winced at his blood-soaked shirt as he sprawled on his front. His legs were way too long. She searched his pockets for the car keys and as she wrenched them out, she said, “You need to bend your legs to fit in the car.” Thea pushed at them. “Now, Conall!”
He snarled several curse words but did as she asked.
Thea wiped her blood-smeared hands over her dark jeans and got in the driver’s seat. And then they were thankfully on the move.
Just as she was turning at the top of the street, she saw police cars and ambulances in her rearview mirror. Forcing herself not to speed, Thea sighed with relief when they veered into the hostel lot and she took off for the freeway.
“How many times were you shot?” She glanced into the back seat.
The wolf looked unconscious but answered, “Three.”
“How long can those bullets be in there before …”
“Before I die?” He coughed and shifted with a wince. “It takes a while … But I’d rather … not wait that long.”
“Do you have a first aid kit in this car?”
“Boot.”
She knew from having grown up with British parents that the boot of a car was the trunk.
“Oh. Okay. Good.” She threw another glance into the back and saw his eyes were open and watching her. Thea turned again toward the road. “If I save your life … will you let me go?”
He was silent so long she thought he’d passed out, but when she glanced back, he was still watching her. “No, lass. I cannae promise you that.” He coughed and grimaced in pain. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he continued, “It would mean breaking a promise I vowed I’d die to keep.”
Thea wondered about the person who had elicited that kind of loyalty from the wolf, and bitter envy flooded her chest with a dark, burning heat. There was no one on this planet willing to die for her because they cared that much.
Oh sure, they’d throw themselves in front of bullets to keep her alive … but that was always because they wanted something from her.
Shaking her head in disgust, Thea was furious at herself. She should have left the wolf to die and now she was taking the chance that if she helped him, he really could track her down again.
“But no,” she muttered to herself. He was bluffing. An ability to track someone with their scent no matter where they were? It was ridiculous.
She’d help him, her conscience would be clear because she wouldn’t owe him anything anymore, and while he was recovering, she’d take off, never to see him again.
They’d been on the freeway a little over an hour, Thea’s panic mounting that she wouldn’t be able to find somewhere to stop, when she saw the sign for accommodation.
The place referred to the accommodation as apartments but as she pulled off, following the signs, the building she pulled up to reminded her of a motel. Although it was getting dark, there weren’t any other cars in the lot. Perfect.
Her hands were slightly streaked with Conall’s blood, but it almost looked like streaks of dried-in reddish mud. Reaching into the back, she realized Conall was unconscious, but his chest was still rising and falling. It was strange to see someone so mammoth and powerful, crumpled into this tiny car, covered in blood and weak as a lamb.
The dark voice in the back of her head told her she should leave him, protect herself.
But … she couldn’t.
“I will get myself killed one of these days,” she grumbled as she tentatively patted Conall’s pockets for his wallet. She ignored the rock-hard feel of his ass as she slipped her hand into his tight back pocket to pull out the leather wallet.
Fast as a whip, Conall’s hand clamped around her wrist.
Heart pounding in surprise, Thea’s eyes flew to his face.
He stared at her balefully. “What are you doing?”
Annoyed that he’d once again been able to take her off guard (seriously, what was that?), she yanked out of his grasp, taking the wallet with her. “I need money to pay for a room. And I need a room to see to your wounds.”
The wolf still appeared incredulous, but he had no choice but to trust her. Thea scooted out of the car and strode with an air of casualness into the small reception. There was a refrigerator with drinks in it and a large display with snacks. An older woman sat behind the desk, her back to the door, watching—
Thea raised an eyebrow.
She was watching porn.
Or a very sexually graphic romantic drama.
“A room, please.” Thea leaned against the high counter.
The woman glanced at her and then at the TV. She sighed in frustration and turned to Thea. “One hundred zloty for the night.”
Thea nodded and wandered over to the drinks’ cabinet. She pulled out two large bottles of water and grabbed a couple bags of chips and candy bars. “These too. And I’d like your room farthest from the road.”
The woman didn’t even flinch. She took the money and handed over a key. “Checkout is at eleven.” She turned back to her sexy movie, summarily dismissing Thea.
Grateful fortune had delivered her a room and a motel owner uninterested in her existence, Thea grabbed the bottles and food and tried not to drop it all as she carried it to the car.
She parked around the corner out of sight. Once she’d dumped the stuff inside the basic but clean little motel room, Thea searched the trunk for the first aid kit. Not only did she find a large first aid bag, she found bottles of water, protein bars, and a rucksack with a change of clothes for Conall. She grabbed it.
Once the kit and rucksack were inside the room, Thea returned for Conall.
“Right, big guy.” She opened the rear passenger door thinking it might be less painful for him if she pulled him out feet first. “Here goes nothing.”
Thea couldn’t get her hands all the way around his calves, they were that thick with muscle. Jesus, this guy was huge. “What do you eat?” she murmured, hauling him out and ignoring his groans of displeasure. “Steroid Popsicles?”
Conall stumbled on his feet as Thea wrapped her arm around his back to hold him up. He was worse than before, falling heavily into her, giving her his entire weight.
“Holy crap.” She braced against him. His weight wasn’t the issue, it was his
size. He was at least nine inches taller than her and made of solid muscle. Unless he wanted her dragging his legs across concrete, she’d need a little help. There was only one way Thea knew how to make him angry enough to come around. “Wolf Boy, help me out here, yeah?”
His head snapped up, his eyes opening to little slits. “Brat,” he grouched, but it did the trick.
Curse words Thea had never even heard before filled her ears as she helped Conall into the motel room. Not wanting blood on the sheets, she took him into the small bathroom and tried to lay him gently on his stomach … but he kind of hit the ground. Hard.
“Sorry.” She winced before she hurried to lock the door and grab the first aid kit.
Inside she found scissors and began to cut off his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Cutting off your shirt.”
“You’re … helping me?”
Thea snorted. “Just catching up, huh?”
His hands lay near his face, palms to the bathroom floor, but they curled into fists. “Why?”
She’d been asking herself that for the past hour. “You covered me back there. I know you did it for your own selfish reasons, but I owe you. I don’t like owing anyone.”
After that Conall was silent. Thea spread the cut shirt off his back, revealing three bullet holes in an uneven triangle near his right shoulder. The holes were inflamed around the outer edge and silver veins amassed like spiderwebs around the wounds.
That didn’t look good.
Thea felt a pang of sympathy.
“Okay.” She folded out the kit, which was supplied with scissor-like forceps, the kind surgeons used. “I’m going to pull out the bullets. Don’t worry. I’ve done this before.”
In Thea’s experience men had a lower pain threshold than women. She’d seen men grump and groan like babies over a flesh wound that a woman would have brushed off as a scratch. So she was a little taken aback when Conall barely responded to her digging the forceps into his wounds. His body jerked at first, but he merely clenched his jaw and didn’t make a noise as she dug around for the bullet. This guy was tough. A worthy opponent.