Their bodies pressed together. Her small breasts flattened against his chest, and as they rubbed together the delicious friction abraded her nipples. She dug fingers into his solid shoulders, exploring his sinewy strength. His lean muscles flexed and rippled beneath her palms, a delicious reminder that he was strong enough to overcome her. He chose to yield, secure in his own power. She loved that one little thing about him which was so different from any other man she'd ever known. Silver didn't need to control or her subdue her. It encouraged her trust in him, allowed a seedling to take root in the rocky soil that surrounded her heart. Next time they were together, she hoped she'd be strong enough to submit to him.
Mouths mated in a deep kiss, Silver gripped her waist, settling his hands on her hipbones. He spanned her ass cheeks with splayed fingers and pressed his thumbs against her abdomen with firmness to tantalize. She ached at her core, craved his caress on her clit and the stroke of his fingers within her. Silver moaned against her mouth, the sound muffled, and then rocked his hips, thrusting his crotch against hers. The front of his pants strained to contain his erection. His cock was big and his pants skintight; that had to hurt.
Temptation took her hand and led Hannah down a dangerous path. Wicked musings danced through her mind. She wanted to make him suffer: to take him in hand and tease him to a full erection through the smooth leather. Only a thin thread of common sense kept her from succumbing to the enticement.
Giddiness swept through her along with tightness in her chest that came from holding her breath for too long. Abruptly, she broke the kiss. She threw back her head, gasping for air. Beneath her, Silver emitted an audible huff. They clung to each other, panting for breath.
"Hey, guys? I'm sorry to interrupt," Branwen said, clearing her throat. She lilted, the distinct note of laughter in her voice.
Hannah flushed, hideously embarrassed. Shit, she'd forgotten they weren't alone. Hastily, she straightened, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve. Silver also came upright but without a hint of self-consciousness. She envied his aplomb.
The room, noisy minutes before, was as quiet as a vacant church. Hannah and Silver were the center of attention. The others stared, their expressions a mix of wide grins and smug smiles. Thankfully, no one snickered or outright laughed, or Hannah would've melted into the floor.
"You're both adorable. I hate to ruin Silver's grand gesture, but do you suppose I could have the box?" Branwen held out her hand. "I'll need it to study it to make a convincing replica."
"Why do we need a replica?" Muttering, Hannah retrieved the box, which she’d tucked beneath her elbow. It was remarkable that she hadn't dropped it. She hesitated to hand it over to Branwen. The other woman seemed nice enough but was still a stranger.
Branwen glanced over at Disco, and the pair traded a loaded look. They weren't the only ones with that exasperated expression either. Ursula, Oz, and Cheyenne had it, too. Silver, however, spread his hands in a silent I-don't-know shrug. A thin sigh escaped Hannah. Apparently, they'd missed an important piece of the conversation, but at least she wasn't alone.
"We're going to create a counterfeit to trade to Balthazar for your grandmother," Disco said, stepping smoothly into the awkward gap. Thus far, the guy had given Hannah more reasons to dislike him than to like him, but she appreciated the effort.
"I don't know. What if it's not convincing and he figures out it's a fake? Balthazar is ruthless. I wouldn't put it past him to retaliate..." Hannah shuddered to think of what the werewolf might do to her grandmother.
"He won't even suspect. I'm that good," Branwen said with complete confidence.
"I don't know..." Hannah gnawed her lower lip while an internal debate raged. She disliked the thought of playing games with her grandmother's life, but this was better than her other options. Persistent guilt ate at her insides. She should disclose Fiona's situation to Silver and his friends right then and there. The second she told them, she would look bad and the situation became even more unwinnable. But if she kept quiet and they found out anyway, she still looked bad.
"Trust her. She's that good." Disco's stilted tone twisted the compliment into an insult. He was looking at Hannah when he said it, but she doubted he missed the hurt that twisted Branwen's face.
"It's a solid plan," Silver said softly, speaking to Hannah. "We might need the real box to negotiate with the Russians. Roman Malkin is way more dangerous than a small timer like Balthazar."
"You're probably right." Privately, Hannah considered Balthazar and Nick, her ex, to be at least as dangerous as the Russians. She knew the pair and what they were capable of—especially Nick, who was cruel and vindictive.
"Once we have Hannah's grandmother back, we're giving the damn box back to Malkin." Disco cut in, steely eyed and toned, his message directed at Silver. "Whatever you wanted it for, forget about it now. We'll be lucky to get out of this mess with our skins intact."
Silver stayed silent, but based on the sour pucker of his mouth, he didn't like being given ultimatums one bit. He must want the box or he wouldn't have gone to the effort of stealing it in the first place. Of course, she'd wondered about his motivation but only as a matter of fleeting curiosity. Up until then, Hannah hadn't given it hard thought.
"Here." Hannah crossed the room. She placed the box into Branwen's open hands but found she couldn't let go.
"It'll be okay. I promise I'll take good care of it." Branwen offered a gentle smile of reassurance.
"Thank you." Hannah forced herself to let go. Shaken, she turned away, feeling completely exposed. She headed for the door but paused before Silver. Their gazes locked.
"You stepping out?" Silver asked, correctly intuiting her plans.
"Just for a few minutes. I need some air."
"Want company?" he asked carefully.
"I need to be alone." Silently, she pleaded with him to understand how desperately she needed space. She didn't plan to run off.
"Take all the time you need. I'll be right here if you need me." Silver flashed a smile that lit his entire face and warmed her heart. He trusted her.
"Thank you," Hannah murmured. Their intimacy frightened her senseless, and left her antsy and exposed. More than she could deal with right now, especially given the crisis with both her grandmother and sister.
She should tell him about Fiona.
Her conscience nagged but conviction, however, was a struggle. What if she told them and they changed their minds about helping her? She was a fox-shifter among coyotes, one with a heap of troubles. At some point it would occur to them that she was more hassle than she was worth, and then they'd abandon her. No, she was better off keeping her mouth shut. She would find some way to stall Malkin. Once Nana was safe and sound, she would quietly return the box to Malkin... and she hoped and prayed he would release her sister. She owed Silver something, though, as a show of good faith.
She knew where to start.
"I'm going to call Balthazar. If I don't, he will hurt my grandmother."
"I understand." Urgency crossed Silver's handsome face, and then he grimaced. Obviously, he wanted to be there when she made the call. It spoke to his discipline that he didn't insist.
"I have to do this alone. Balthazar's senses are too keen. He'd pick up on anything in the background that doesn't fit with my cover story."
"Do you know what your cover story is?" Disco asked.
"I figured I'd just tell him an abbreviated version of the truth. I couldn't make up fiction weirder than being chased by armed goons and the Russian mafia, and then snatched by a vanful of coyotes." Hannah lifted a corner of her mouth in a quirky smile, mirroring with a single-shoulder shrug.
The joke garnered appreciative chuckles from the band. Their warmth and acceptance was palpable—a warm blanket swathed about her. It filled Hannah with yearning for that inclusiveness and belonging. What would it be like to be a part of Silver's life? A dangerous desire, doomed to end in heartbreak if she wasn't careful. She must never forget.
&n
bsp; No shifter touched another's mate—doing so was taboo. Her affair with Silver would end the second he found out Hannah already had a lifemate. His friends would ostracize rather than welcome her.
"Can you try to buy us some time?" Branwen asked with a frown.
"Sure, how much do you need?" With an effort, Hannah held the other woman's pitying gaze without wavering. No backing down. It was just her imagination that she wore the long list of her fears and failings on her face.
Branwen looked to Disco. Wordless communication passed between the pair, and Branwen provided the answer. "I need at least twelve hours to work the enchantments. Is tonight okay?"
"That gives me time to recruit some backup," Silver said.
Oz murmured in agreement, and Disco nodded. Within seconds, they had a consensus: one way or another, the band would be ready to go by the next sunset.
"I'll tell him six o'clock and find a way to buy us the time." Hannah fled from the stuffy, crowded little room onto the second-story walkway. Within, everyone resumed talking all at once. The loud din passed right through the closed door. Good thing the band members held the adjacent rooms.
She took the stairs fast and headed across the parking lot in a random direction. Hannah walked for a quarter mile or so, often glancing over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being shadowed. Ever wary, she scanned the sky, too. As much as she wanted to trust Silver and his friends, she wasn't quite there yet.
Hannah traveled a mile before she felt safe enough to stop. A covered bus stop on the side of a busy street offered temporary refuge. Even in the middle of the night, there was a good volume of roaring traffic.
She dug out her cell phone and winced at the time. Four in the morning—hours since she'd missed her check-in time with Balthazar. The werewolf would be furious. Hastily, she dialed his number and waited, tense with anxiety, while it rang.
Nick answered instead of Balthazar. "Hannah, where the hell are you? Balthazar was furious when he heard you ran from his guys."
"Put my grandmother on the phone." You bastard. Hannah held back the curse, but only just barely. Her self-control slipped thanks to the strength of her hatred. Her fox gained ascension; her teeth grew sharp points and her lips curled over her gums in a silent snarl.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Nick asked, ignoring her demand.
"It's none of your god damn business what I was thinking. It's not your job to ask or even wonder. You're just a goon. Now, put my grandmother on. If she's been hurt, I swear I'll kill you." She sprayed spittle with the force of the vow.
"Geez, language, Dollface," Nick drawled.
Dollface. Silently, Hannah gagged on the hated pet name. She strove to get her anger back under control. "My grandmother. Now."
"Hold on, I'll get her," Nick said, disgruntled. A door opened, squeaking on its rusty hinges, and his footsteps echoed. Hannah hung on the line, her entire concentration focused on listening. Another door opened, and then Nick bellowed, "Hey, Granny, wake up. Say something."
"I don't understand. What—" The receiver caught a snatch of Grandma Bonita’s sleepy voice.
"Grandma..." Weak with relief, Hannah dropped onto the bus stop's wooden bench. She wanted to say more—to offer reassurances and say "I love you"—but Nick returned before she got the words out.
"She's fine," Nick said in that bullying tone she knew so well. "Now tell me where you are, Hannah."
A distressed wail escaped Hannah. Hearing her grandmother's voice had tipped her off-balance and knocked the fight out of her. She lost her composure, and her position of power with Nick reversed. He must've sensed her vulnerability, because he brought the full brunt of his will to bear through the mate bond he shared with Hannah. The psychic noose tugged taut around her throat. As much as she loathed and defied him, he still possessed the ability to influence her.
"I want to talk to Balthazar." Out of habit, Hannah retreated behind the mental walls that'd protected her all these years. When she convinced herself she was a stone-cold bitch, Nick couldn't touch her. The icy remoteness gave her the gumption to leave him in the first place, and kept her strong enough to stay away. To her panic and dismay, her customary coldness proved elusive. She didn't snap immediately into the taciturn mindset.
"Balthazar is asleep and I'm not gonna be the one to wake him up. Now, no more demands. It's time for you to start explaining," Nick said, exerting his resolve against her through the mate bond. Years ago, when they first met, the coyote had used charm and guile to convince her, but he seldom bothered with subterfuge anymore.
"Nick, please," Hannah pleaded, reeling from shock. Right when she assumed her defenses were gone, she finally achieved a protective stance. Her shields were weakened but not gone. Also, it wasn't Nick's doing. After a delayed realization, she leapt to the obvious conclusion. Silver—it was his fault. Her beautiful lover had undermined the foundation of her control and that terrified her.
"I like that tone. Haven't heard that in a long time." Nick lilted in surprised pleasure. His smug sense of superiority carried through the mate bond. The guy's ego knew no bounds.
Hannah hesitated. Maybe she could use that flaw against him. She'd spent too many years rejecting Nick to be able to sell a radical change of heart toward him. He might, however, buy into her having a complete breakdown. The coyote-shifter already believed her to be weak and stupid. Really, she didn't blame him for that low opinion. When she first met Nick, she was trusting and gullible. He'd taken advantage of her naiveté and manipulated her. Never again, but Nick didn't know that. He'd outsmarted her once—she would bet her incisors he assumed he could do it again. Of course, there was a risk he would pick up on her intentions. Ultimately, it was a chance she was willing to take.
"Nick, I don't know what to do. Everything is just such a mess..." Hannah fumbled for words. Groveling didn't come naturally to her. It grated on her pride. Subterfuge, though, was a fox's innate talent. She stopped trying to close the mate bond down, and instead allowed her all too real fear to surface.
Nick proved too eager. He jumped at the chance to gloat. "I've been trying to tell ya, Dollface, but you don't listen. You've brought the worst of this mess on yourself."
"You're right. It's just... I'm so scared." She broke on a genuine sob and wept. The last few days, she engaged in a constant battle not to break down. Her fear and sorrow were the genie in the bottle; once unstopped, everything poured out all at once.
"You went wrong when you left me and it's been a long slide down a steep hill ever since—" Nick indulged a few more rounds of I-told-you-so while Hannah cried.
She derived perverse pleasure from sobbing louder in a determined attempt to drown him out. The game went on for a bit like that. Nick talked over her and Hannah bought the waterworks. She drowned in tears. And weirdly, it allayed her anger and allowed her to regain her composure.
"For fuck's sake! Will you stop already? This isn't helping anything!" Nick roared at the top of his lungs. His anger buffeted her through the mate bond.
With a final dramatic sniffle, Hannah shut it down. She threw out a few more snuffles and faked hiccups. In a weepy confession, she said, "I lost the box."
"You what?"
"I said..." Hannah dragged her hand across her face and inhaled, noisily gurgling snot. It was a masterful performance. She gave herself bonus points. "I lost it."
"You lost it?" Nick sang out in the alto-range, sounding as though his balls had been snipped. "Are you fucking kidding me? Please tell me you're fucking kidding me. Balthazar will fucking lose it. He'll go insane."
Hannah smirked. "Technically, I didn't lose it."
"The hell you say?"
"I hid it. There were so many people chasing me—Balthazar's guys and Malkin's men and that band of coyotes—"
"Say what?"
"There's this other band of coyotes who want the box." Hannah threw the extra information out in glib fashion because it added to the inanity. "They were all at my apartment. I got scared s
o I stashed the box. That way when I got caught which I did, it didn't get taken. Oh, I escaped by the way. Thanks for asking."
"Hannah, you're not making any sense. Slow down 'n' start over. Start by telling me where you hid the box," Nick said, gently coaxing. As though she would share that and give up the only leverage she owned. The guy really did believe she was an idiot.
"This isn't a secure line. Someone might be listening. Don't worry, I put it somewhere safe," Hannah said, deliberately hedging because she wanted to see how easily he accepted her evasion.
"Fine." Nick made a production of grumbling but gave in far too readily. It told her what she needed—he had taken the bait. He would tear her apartment complex to the foundations. Of course, he wouldn't find it, but the diversion would buy Silver and his band some time.
"What about Fiona?" Nick asked with false concern that had to be a ploy intended to distract her. He didn't want Hannah deducing his intentions.
She glanced skyward in disgust. "Fiona is safe. Don't worry about her."
"Where are you now, Dollface? I'm worried about you, baby. Tell me where you are and I'll come get you."
"No, not while the sun's up. Too many people are looking for me. You might be followed. Don't worry. I'm holed up somewhere safe for now. I'm going to stay put until tomorrow evening. Once it's dark, I'll get the box and bring it to you." Hannah talked fast so Nick couldn't get a word in edgewise. She didn't want to give him time to challenge her plan.
"Hannah—" Impatience edged his tone. Nick hated being told what to do.
"Nick, please..." Hannah begged, hating every second of it. "I've already admitted you were right about everything."
"Everything?" Nick asked warily.
Outfoxed: A Zodiac Shifters Paranormal Romance: Gemini Page 11