“I know who her father is,” he scoffed. “I don’t have a death wish.”
His frankness caused my indignation to splutter, and confusion swamped me. “Then what do you want?”
“You,” he said with a possessive heat that flushed my skin.
“I know who your father is too, and he owes me.” A large hand cupped my jaw. “I’m here to collect.”
An eerie calm settled over me. I wish I could say this was the first time a kitsune had come at me to get to my father, but it wasn’t. I knew the drill, and I wasn’t going gently into any good night.
That left me with two options, and both sucked. Option one: exit quietly then whip out the teeth and claws away from mortal eyes and their well-meaning interference. Option two: scream for help, drag humans into a fae matter, get brought up on charges by the conclave for risking exposure to said humans, and then bend over to kiss my foxy ass goodbye.
One of these things sucks less than the other…
“Do as he says, Tee.” I made the call when she hesitated. Her mom was human, and she had a soft spot for mortals. The guilt would gnaw at her if she got one injured while trying to protect me. “We don’t want any innocents hurt.”
Thierry’s fierce grin bolstered me, and she flared her light for an instant before snuffing it. “I don’t mind relocating the party.” Teeth bared, she smiled at Dean like the predator she usually hid so well. “The smaller the audience, the fewer the casualties.”
Katsuo took my arm, and Dean placed a hand at Thierry’s waist to hide the pressure of his blade against her side. Our quartet exited the building, and Thierry and I allowed ourselves to be herded toward a bricked-in Dumpster enclosure that sat empty, its container pushed against the rear of the convention center. A tiny voice in my head warned of the high probability these two had scoped the area and done their prep work first, like removing the Dumpster and securing this scenic spot for our chat.
I caught a whiff of the pungent refuse sliming the concrete pad and balked, but Katsuo hauled me in after him. Waiting until the brick wall concealed us, Dean snapped, “Do it.”
Katsuo reached into the folds of material at his side and produced a gun he aimed at Thierry. Such a mundane solution to their problem. I didn’t expect it. Shifters preferred teeth and claws to weapons. Thierry was good, but she was far from bulletproof. Twisting Katsuo’s arm in a vicious arc, I broke free of him and threw off his aim. He misfired once, and I leapt for Thierry. Lucky number two hit home. Stinging pain radiated from my shoulder blade down my spine, and I landed in a heap on the sticky cement. The world spun beneath my cheek, my consciousness unwinding thread by thread. In slow motion, I shoved onto all fours then rose to my knees. A third distinct pop of displaced air rang out. Direct hit. Thierry crumpled in a heap with a dart protruding from her neck. A dart. Not a bullet. I almost laughed with manic joy. Thank the gods. We might survive this after all. Now that I comprehended my loopiness was drug-induced and not the product of blood loss, my inebriated optimism skyrocketed.
“Tee.” I stroked her cheek. The sedative hit her faster. The dart I intercepted must not have fully compressed. She was out cold when I shook her shoulder. “It’s all right. I’ll get you out of this.”
“You shot Mai.” Dean’s snarl echoed in the confined space.
“She jumped in front of the gun,” Katsuo snapped. “I couldn’t stop time and pluck the dart from the air.”
Turning his back on Katsuo, Dean squatted in front of me, dismissing Thierry as a threat that had been neutralized. The curve of his jaw flexed, and he flicked the thick rope of hair that had been hanging over his shoulder behind him. Those eyes, bottomless and hard, fixated on me. Frightening. Yet they seemed so familiar. Dean. I was being abducted by a Dean Winchester wannabe, which would have been five-alarm hot minus the whole abduction thing.
I tilted my throbbing head back to make eye contact. Bad idea. Bad. Idea. He reached for me, and I snapped at his fingers. Even sedated, I was faster than he expected, and I ended up sinking my teeth deep in his wrist instead. A coppery tang filled my mouth, and smug satisfaction warmed my gut.
“Color me surprised,” he mocked. “A Hayashi with a spine.” He gave me a nudge, and I fell against Katsuo. “Secure her.”
Hands clamped around my rib cage, almost under my armpits, and Katsuo promised, “I won’t hurt you.”
“Thierry,” I wheezed as he lifted me and tossed me over his shoulder. “You can’t leave her out here. I’ll behave.” For now, I mentally tacked on. “I promise. Just take her inside. Please.”
A scowl cut Dean’s mouth. “I’m not a barbarian. Your friend will be well taken care of.” He gestured, and another male smelling of kitsune trotted over. “Take Thierry to their room.” He smoothed a hand over my butt all in the name of locating my keycard. “Here. The room number is three-oh-four. Stay out of sight, but keep an eye on her. If she’s not up and walking around in an hour, call the conclave for a pickup.”
“Will do.” The man bent and scooped my best friend into his arms. “I’ll follow as soon as I’m able.”
Fabric smelling of musk and sweat brushed my lips. Dean shoved it past them into my mouth while I was distracted with Thierry, and tied the material tight behind my head. “Forgive me if I don’t trust your promises.”
Smart man. “My dad will hear about this,” I mumbled through the cloth, kicking my legs until Katsuo clamped a hand behind my calves to restrain me.
Dean wound a second layer of fabric around my head, and then a third, before he muted me. His breath hit my nape, and hairs rose down my arms. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” Husky laughter rolled over my skin, and my inner vixen perked up her ears at the sound. Traitor. A sour feeling blossomed in the pit of my stomach that was more than Katsuo’s bony shoulder. “I wouldn’t want him to miss his little girl’s big day. Cooperate, and I might even let him walk you down the aisle.”
Katsuo lurched into motion, and I struggled to catch my breath. He rounded the corner too fast, and I banged my head against the edge of the brick wall while straining for one last glimpse of Thierry. Pain wilted me, and I slumped down his back as he carried me away. Thanks to the dull throb in my temples, I couldn’t tell if that hammering in my head was my pulse or if those were distant wedding bells I heard ringing.
Chapter 2
As it turns out, not many folks look twice at an Inuyasha hustling through a parking lot with a bound-and-gagged Jareth thrown over his shoulder. One guy we passed even laughed, like he thought it was hilarious I was being abducted by a wannabe feudal half-demon. Maybe he thought it was romantic. Or maybe he thought it was a bondage cosplay gone wrong…or would that be gone right? Either way—snapping a picture of Katsuo’s retreating back as I bounced against it? Not helpful.
A silver pickup squealed into a parking space beside us. It rocked when a door was opened and then shut. Footsteps rang out. Metal groaned. My head still hurt too much to raise it far enough to investigate.
“Give her to me,” Dean demanded.
Katsuo set me on my feet gingerly, keeping his hands at my waist to prevent me from toppling over while I battled vertigo. A heartbeat later a second pair of hands steadied me, and more of those unwelcome tingles spread from that brief contact. Looking at Dean made my chest ache. His long hair was natural, not a prop, and loose strands tickled his cheeks. Hooded eyes slid over me, drinking in the sight of me like a parched man who had stumbled onto an oasis.
“Mai.” He said my name reverently, as though he doubted I stood before him. The hard slant of my eyebrows must have spoken volumes. He stared at me, his will all but beating against me. It wasn’t magic, though that poured off him too. This was pure magnetism. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?”
No, but I would never forget him. I memorized every square inch of his face and told myself it was so I could describe him to my father later and not because his presence called to some visceral corner of my soul I hadn’t known existed within me.
/> He didn’t wait for me to mumble an answer against the gag. He gestured to Katsuo, who placed a wad of fabric in his hand. Dean shook out the bag and draped it over my head. Nostrils flaring, I sucked in a panicked breath and breathed in the scent of chamomile, lavender and…magic.
My head lolled, too heavy to support. What the violence of the dart failed to do, this fragrant magic gently accomplished. I slumped against Dean and let him hold me, and he did, so tenderly I might have been cradled by clouds instead of his muscular arms. Or maybe that was whatever drowsy-soft spell he’d used on me. Either way, I was suddenly much less concerned by the idea of two rogue kitsunes bundling me into a pile of quilts spread over the bed of the truck.
The purr of the engine rumbled under my back, and the vibrations lulled me into a dreamless sleep.
Dragging my eyes open required too much effort. I rolled onto my side, groped across the bed for my body pillow and growled when my fingertips didn’t brush it. It must have fallen on the floor again. Oh well. I didn’t have the energy to hunt for it. I kept turning until I rested flat on my stomach with my face buried in my pillow. Awareness crashed over me a second later. The fiberfill didn’t smell like me, didn’t smell like home. I shoved onto my knees, and the bedframe squeaked beneath me.
I crawled to the edge of the mattress and sat. Now that I was awake and away from the nest of quilts that held faint traces of my scent, the sting of pine cleaner burned my nose. My toes brushed industrial carpet in Unseelie gray. I stood and walked the perimeter of the room, fingers trailing along the wall as though walking through a dream. This place reminded me of any one of the dozens of roach motels Thierry and I used to crash at during spring break. Except those usually came with a few dozen roommates sporting twitchy antennae, and this one, while shabby, was immaculate.
The cotton batting stuffing my head made focusing more difficult than it should have been. I reached the door through the haze and gripped the knob. The cool bite of metal swiped away more cobwebs, and when turning my wrist got me nowhere, a bolt of dread struck my heart.
“Katsuo,” I said out loud, remembering. Then louder, “Katsuo.”
I pounded on the door until my fists went numb, then whirled toward the window opposite the bed. I jogged to it, threw back the curtains…and met with iron bars spaced so close together that even if I somehow managed to break the glass, my fox couldn’t squeeze through. That I was imprisoned in a kitsune-proof room didn’t escape my notice. This wasn’t random. They had prepared for me.
While breathing through the panic, I scratched an itch on my forehead. My fingers came away with brownish crust beneath the nails. Thanks to shifter healing, I didn’t have a goose egg, just a smudge of old blood. The urge to scratch moved up to my scalp where dried sweat left my skin salty under the hairnet. I ripped it off and ran my fingers through my matted hair, working out the tangles. Limp chestnut strands had stuck to my nape, but the wig was nowhere to be found. My boots were gone too. I had been left in socks, gray spandex tights and a men’s old-fashioned bloused shirt.
Shifters might not have a problem with nudity, and it didn’t appear that I had been stripped so much as had layers removed, but the violation of being manhandled while I was unconscious made my gut churn.
A quick rap on the door set me on high alert. It swung open, and Katsuo swept across the threshold carrying a plastic plate and matching tumbler. No silverware meant scooping his eyeballs out with the dull edge of my spoon would have to wait.
I anchored my fists on my hips. “You shot and drugged me.”
“You leapt in front of the dart. If you want to blame someone for that, point the finger at your chest.” He placed the food and drink on the nightstand. “We chose the calming hood for you. We didn’t want you to harm yourself during the trip.”
“I’m not the one who’s going to be hurting if you don’t release me.” I snarled, “Now.”
“That’s not possible.” He straightened, folded his hands across his navel and waited. “You should eat.”
“Not hungry.” A lie, but one I stuck to. Who knew what drugs might lace the food? “What time is it?”
He removed a phone from his pocket and woke the display. “It’s ten-oh-five.”
Meaning I had been here longer than twelve hours. “You have to let me out of here.”
“I can’t do that, Mai.”
“I’m due at a panel in an hour.” My anger redoubled. “People will notice I’m missing.” I didn’t name Thierry. I wanted them to forget all about her until it was too late. All I had to do was survive until she found me. “It won’t take long for word to reach my father.”
“I called the Expo this morning and told them a family emergency made it impossible for you to honor your schedule.” Proving he still knew how my mind worked, he added, “Your friend checked out first thing and headed home.” Calm and cool, he stood there, unaware of how much I wanted to shift and then bite his head off—either of them. “It will take days for her to locate you, and by then…”
“What happened to you?” I throttled my rising anger. “What did that nutbar do to force you into this?”
“Ryuu is my brother,” he answered softly. “I wasn’t forced into being here. I’m participating of my own free will.”
Ryuu. A prickling sensation raced across my scalp. Where had I heard that name before?
“You don’t have a brother,” I argued, not as sure as I had been moments ago that was true.
“You’ll remember soon. I hope.” A faint smile. “Even if you don’t, I meant what I said. You won’t be harmed, Mai.”
“Why do you two keep talking about my memory?” I hadn’t hit my head that hard. “Are you running some kind of brainwashing cult or something?”
“You’ve already been brainwashed.” Cold anger spiked his words. “We all were.”
All the superglue fumes from his costume-making must have gone to his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have to go.” He retreated toward the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours with lunch.”
The urge to change rippled over my skin. I was quicker on four legs than he was on two. I could slide through the door in fox form before his human body squeezed through the gap.
Hand on the knob, Katsuo hesitated. “You can’t shift for a few more hours. Trying is only going to hurt you.”
“I can’t shift?” Icy fingers of dread stroked down my spine. “What do you mean I can’t shift?”
As if to prove him wrong, my body reacted, igniting the change. Pain sizzled through my nerve endings, and I sank to the floor heaving. Panic coated the back of my throat, and I tasted true fear for the first time since this ordeal began.
Katsuo rocked forward on the balls of his feet and then back. “It’s a side effect of the sedative from the dart.” He rushed to add, “It’s nothing permanent. Get something in your stomach. Walk around some. The more you move, the faster it will burn out of your system.”
“Fine,” I panted through the residual pangs. “I’ll do jumping jacks in my cell. It’s not like there’s anything else to do in here.”
A glimmer of pity lit his dark eyes. “You know how immuring works.”
“Immuring,” I echoed, tasting bile. “That crackpot was serious? He thinks he’s going to mate me?”
This just kept getting better and better. Females held all the power when it came to choosing mates. We tested males, forced them to prove their worth and earn the right to court us. Fail the test, and you’re out of the running. No take-backsies. And the tests varied from female to female. The requirement could be as mundane as a male performing the trick of tying a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue, which one of my cousins chose, or as complex as a female slapping a stick of chalk across a male’s palm and asking him to hit the chalkboard to solve an algebraic geometry problem, which one of my sisters still used to narrow the field.
Of course, as with most traditions, there were loopholes. Claim a female on her skulk
’s land under the full moon, and she’s yours. Needless to say, I avoided home—and males—like the plague during ripe lunar phases. Last night there had been a crescent moon, and I sure hadn’t been on Hayashi land. That meant the only legal and binding way this claim would stick was if he had already passed my test, which was impossible. No one had ever come close.
That shred of hope gave me strength. All I had to do was survive. Once this was over, after Ryuu thought he had won, I would walk out of here on his arm. Then I would kick him in the junk, steal his truck and drive myself home. Until then I was stuck here…immuring.
Shudder.
Captured vixens brought into a new den were often isolated from their family and friends to make the transition between skulks easier. That was the line fed to us. Me? I called a spade a spade. Males used deprivation to kick-start a case of Stockholm syndrome between the captured female and her new mate. It was a disgusting practice.
“I’m sorry,” Katsuo mumbled again, ducking out the door before I could reach it—or him. A shadow loomed in the hallway. A guard no doubt. One who was about to get an earful.
“Coward,” I screamed, shoving to my feet and lunging after him. My fists pounded the door until its frame rattled. “Come back here so I can finish yelling at you.”
Proving he possessed some self-preservation skills despite all evidence to the contrary, he didn’t rise to my taunts. The door remained shut and locked, with me on the wrong side of it. Katsuo didn’t return. Not to retrieve the plate of food I didn’t touch. Not to replace the late breakfast with a later lunch. Not even to serve me dinner.
I paced until sweat stuck my shirt to my spine and worked up an appetite and a thirst I had to quench using lukewarm water from the drippy bathroom sink.
It would take more than a few hours without food, filtered water or conversation to break me. Clearly, as well as they thought they knew me, they hadn’t been aware of how strict my parents were or how often I got into trouble as a kit. This was a cakewalk.
Dog Eat Dog World: Limited Edition Bundle (Black Dog) Page 78