Hot, Hard & Howling

by Mari Freeman

  The creepy Crey snorted out a laugh. “No, man. It’s not.” He offered the cat meat a third time. Trent still refused. “Not to worry. We won’t have to endure these accommodations for much longer.”

  “Oh?” Trent was testing his bonds. Wire, and it was tight; no breaking through that no matter how much of his strength he got back.

  “You have something I need.” The little man smiled.

  As Crey straightened and moved to look out a small window adjacent to the door, Trent saw the pyre. “Fuck.”

  A few amulets were scattered next to the fire. Trent felt the blood magic. The two-bit Sorcerer must have been stealing spells and power amulets to boost his power. That’s how he’d spelled the human at Nell’s house. That’s how Trent’s shift was being blocked now.

  Crey turned back to Trent. “You know what that means, do ya?” He shoved another piece of meat in this mouth and didn’t bother to wait until he was finished chewing to continue. “You’re in deep kimchi, my furry friend.”

  Trent struggled against his bonds one more time because he didn’t know what else to do at the moment.

  “Easy there, Prime. I can jack it back up.” He gestured to the pile of crap smoldering on the floor. “The spell. If need be. I wanted you conscious.”

  He squatted down to Trent’s eye level once more and propped his elbows on his bent knees. “I want to know what you and the Halfling did with the box. Her old man shouldn’t have kept such powerful toys.” He shook his head.

  “Where’s Nell?” Trent looked the little scumbag in the eye.

  “That’s what I want to know, dude. My hired help didn’t follow instructions very well. They were supposed to bring the girl and the box.” He poked Trent in the chest a couple of times then stood and scratched his crotch. “Instead, the methhead vamps brought you.”

  Crey took another bite of the cat meat. “My boss wants the box but I got other plans. That necklace is gonna set me free, dog. Bye-bye slave, hello master status. Tell me where to find it and we all go home happy.”

  Trent laughed. “How stupid do I look?”

  “Stupid enough to lose your girlfriend and the talisman all at the same time.” He winked at Trent. “Don’t worry, dude. I’ll take real good care of your girl.” He wriggled his nonexistent eyebrows.

  Trent roared with anger. He tried to shift, to let his snout elongate, show some teeth, but agonizing pain shot though his body. Pain stronger than any he’d ever felt. He screamed, his entire body tightening. His eyes watered, mucus dripped from his searing nose. He slumped to the side, shivering. With his hands tied around the post, his shoulders were wrenched when he sagged toward the floor, arms stretched at an awkward angle. Dirt clung to his face.

  “Dude. That looked like it really, really hurt. I suggest you not try that shit again.”

  Trent couldn’t see the little bastard but he heard the amusement in his voice. He tried to steady his erratic breathing. He had to calm down. Nell was going to need him to keep his wits. He was now bait.

  And Nell would take it. He knew it with all his heart. No way had she taken the box and found a way to contact the Council. She was just crazy enough to think she could rescue him.

  And it was his fault she’d feel desperate enough to do it. She’d waited too long, hoped for too long. And he’d let her down. He’d hurt her over and over again by trying to stay out of her life. Why? So he could lose her this way?

  The thought of anything happening to her made his stomach turn. This little freak was not going to touch her. She was his.

  If anyone was going to kill Nell, it would be Trent.

  He shook his head and laughed at his own thoughts. The irony.

  “You think it’s funny, Prime?” Crey asked.

  Trent opened his eyes. Crey was sitting in one of the chairs at the table. He studied the little creep. Nothing was going to happen here. This creep would need to take Trent back to the city to lure Nell into a trap. Trent would use that opportunity to make his move. In the meantime, he needed to figure out how to break the spell.

  He tried to right himself again. “I think you’re right. I think that shit hurt.”

  Hot, Hard & Howling

  Chapter Eleven

  Nell found the backwater. The moon was bright and she could see that the forest had been carved out just enough to accommodate three small shacks. Surrounded by trees on all sides, probably barely visible from the water for an average human, the shacks sat a short distance back from the shoreline. Light was coming though the cracks of the closest tiny hut and she smelled burning hair. Not good. She maneuvered the boat to the little dock in front of the farthest shack. The metal hull hitting the wood post of the dock made a louder noise than she would have liked. A larger boat with a small motor was already tied up at the first dock, facing away from the shore. With any luck, she’d be leaving in that one.

  With the machete in hand and the pack on her back, she tiptoed out of the boat, making her way to the shack along the line of trees that abutted the water. The sounds of the forest had died at her presence. She stood still among the tall cypress trees for a moment to allow nature to grow accustomed to her. The frogs started singing a few at a time. The rest of the swamp sounds, which Nell imagined came from all manner of slimy bugs and creatures, chimed in a few minutes later.

  She felt secure in her stealth for the moment. She crouched, taking small steps to make her way to the back of the hut. She knelt beneath a crude window and listened. She heard a voice that sounded more like that of a teenager than a man. Had she come to the wrong backwater?

  She inched up until she could just see over the ledge of the tiny window. The smell of blood magic made her stomach turn so violently she had to kneel back down. She took three large, cleansing breaths. Trent was in there. She’d managed to see him—or at least the back of him—as well as a man who was on a cell phone on the far side of the shack.

  She unsnapped the machete sheath and pulled out the huge blade. It was clean and sharp. The voice was getting closer. The guy was pacing while talking on the phone, and heading her way. Nell hunched down farther and pressed herself up against the wall.

  “I don’t like it. I can’t hold this spell forever.” He cleared his throat.

  Nell could hear a voice on the other end of the phone but couldn’t understand the words.

  Nell heard the phone snap shut. “Well, Prime, seems our ride has been delayed. Fuck. Finding last-minute help in this place is impossible.”

  “Pity,” Trent replied. He sounded weak.

  The little man cursed again. “I’m not so hot for your riveting conversation, Prime.”

  It was quiet for a moment. Nell wanted to look in again to get a feel for the layout. She was going to have to use her Demon gift, as much as she hated to. It was all she had. She heard chanting and a surge of light blasted through the window.

  Nell rose quickly, using the blast of light to her advantage. The man was crouched over a little fire, casting a spell. Trent was writhing, his arms awkwardly tied around a post in the center of the room. The creepy-looking Sorcerer was seriously into his work. This was her chance.

  The window was too small to get through quickly. As fast as she could, Nell ran back around to the door. Taking a deep breath to brace her resolve, she lunged forward, hitting the plank door with her shoulder.

  It bounced her backward, not giving a bit.

  So much for the element of surprise.

  A gun fired and wood splintered. Nell screamed and dropped to the ground, almost losing hold of the machete. Terrified, she crawled back to the edge of the woods.

  Everything was quiet. Nell’s heart was pounding. That adrenaline rush she usually loved so much seemed annoying at the moment. She hadn’t even considered a Sorcerer would have a gun. Stupid girl.

  “Nell Ambercroft,” the Sorcerer hollered out of the building. “How kind of you to come to us out here in the bayou. We were planning a reception for you in town. You’ve made this very
easy for me.” He cackled. “You bring that fucking necklace thingy in here and I’ll let you and your boyfriend go.”

  Yeah right. She wasn’t that stupid. She needed to buy some time. And how the hell did he know it was her?

  She heard him cracking up at himself and worried over the fact that Trent hadn’t weighed in on the conversation. For that matter, she was even more shocked he hadn’t started cursing at her for being in the bayou in the first place. Way too uncharacteristic for the Were.

  “Hee-hee-hee.” The man’s evil laugh chilled her spine. “Your boyfriend is a little, um, shall we say, under the influence right this minute. Evidently he can’t hold his magic.”

  Nell needed to see if Trent was indeed okay after that spell. “Open the door. Let me see him and I’ll bring the box.” She pulled the backpack off her shoulders and held it out. She was tucked behind a cypress but Crey should be able to see the pack. The door opened all the way in.

  It was less than a dozen feet from the tree line to the door. Nell eased out a little so she could see inside, machete hidden behind her leg.

  In the middle of the tiny hut, she could see Crey standing over a bound Trent Nicholas, Super Werewolf, with a gun pointed at the Prime’s head. She had no clue how she was going to get out of this situation.

  “Um. I…uh. I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “What?” Crey looked at Trent. “Did she really say that?”

  Trent’s head lifted slightly. He looked as if he was heavily drugged. “Sounds right.”

  He was alive. Nell backed father into the woods. “I’ll be right back.”

  The gun in Crey’s hand wildly gestured toward Nell before she lost sight of him by tucking behind the large cypress again. “Is she serious?” he yelled. “Did she just take a potty break during a hostage negotiation?”

  Nell didn’t hear if Trent responded. She leaned against the tree, her mind racing for a plan. She’d seen what she’d needed to see. Treat was alive but out of commission. Crey had a gun. She had a machete. The odds were not in her favor.

  Two small alligators moved away from the shore to her left, heading to the water.

  Marshmallows…

  Nell headed back to the boat, cringing each time she had to take a step. It was pitch black in the shadows of the cypress trees. Their huge roots stuck up out of the ground like the humps of sea monsters, slick and wet with the moisture of the swamp. Moss and bugs coated the branches she used for handholds as she steadied her balance, making her way to the boat as quietly as possible. Fortunately the creep holding Trent was too busy harping on and on about women to really notice her movement.

  Nell got the bag of marshmallows and went back to the spot where the gators had slipped into the dark water. She tossed several in what she hoped was their general direction. One gator must have seen the movement as the treat landed because he went after it fast, gobbling it up. He opened his mouth and hissed at her as if to beg for more.

  She tossed a few on the shore and then one even farther, into the trees. The second gator raced to get it before the first. They clashed, hissing and knocking each other with their long snouts.

  “Easy boys. I need you.” She gathered the machete, the backpack and her energy. She only had one shot at this. She led the gators to the edge of the woods with a trail of marshmallows.

  Nell stuffed a handful in her bra. Then she tossed the rest of the white, fluffy gator crack in the open area between the woods and the door of the hut. They only needed to get about six feet closer to the door. The gators rushed out of the woods in pursuit of the treats, hissing and charging toward the hut.

  “Fucking bitch. Can the Halfling talk to animals?” He took a step back and aimed the gun at one of the gators.

  Nell closed her eyes and pushed out with every bit of energy she could muster.

  Gators went flying. One sailed past Crey, crashing into the wall behind him. The other smacked directly into his chest.

  The gators were hissing in threat, Crey was cussing and Trent was laughing uncontrollably. Crey had dropped the gun to fend off the flying gator, allowing it to skitter over by the table.

  Nell rushed in screaming and swung the machete in a large, chopping arc. It came down on Crey, cutting several inches into this shoulder.

  The man roared and tried to back up, the machete still lodged in his shoulder right next to his neck. Nell didn’t let go of the handle so she was pulled back with him. She yanked, trying to dislodge her weapon.

  “Fucking Bitch!”

  She pulled on the handle again as Crey tried to grab her arms. The gator closest flung his head toward the pair, not caring what the humans were fighting over. Nell pulled harder, desperate to swing the machete again.

  She heard Trent growl. He was face-to-face with one of the gators, who still seemed pretty upset by his unscheduled flight. An agitated alligator was not a pretty alligator. Nell let go of the machete and grabbed some of the marshmallows she’d shoved down her shirt for safekeeping, tossing one close enough to Trent to get the gator’s attention. He turned this toothy mouth to the treat and away from Trent. The other followed his buddy’s lead. Nell tossed several more toward the door.

  “Good thinking, baby,” Trent said, sounding rather drunk. “I may have to give you a reward later for rescuing me.” He raised his eyebrows in exaggerated insinuation. He was smiling, enjoying the show with no hint of fear or concern.

  A crash brought Nell’s attention back to Crey, who was trying to get the gun from under one of the chairs. When he bent over, the handle of the machete had connected with the table. He cursed loudly but was close to retrieving the weapon.

  Nell had no shot at getting the gun or getting the machete back. She frantically searched for something to attack with. There wasn’t shit left in the shack but magazines, empty food wrappers and that ritual pyre.

  She reached deep for the little energy she had left and pushed her magic at the small pile of hot embers.

  They exploded, sending little balls of fire through the small room. One landed on Trent and Nell quickly brushed if off.

  Several more hit their mark, landing on Crey’s back. The Sorcerer howled and fell away from the gun.

  He spun on her. “That’s it! I’ve had it with this romance-novel heroine act.” His eyes were bloodshot and his shirt was covered in blood. The entire room smelled of burnt flesh. With barely a wince, he gripped the machete and ripped it out of his own shoulder.

  Crey advanced on Nell. She took a step back. He raised the machete. “Now, little Halfling, you die.” He glanced around the room. “Where’s the fucking box?”

  Nell shrugged. She’d left in the woods.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll find it.” He stepped closer. “Say goodbye to your girl, Prime.”

  “Bye-bye, baby,” Trent said.

  Crey took one more step—then gasped and stood stark straight, the machete still raised over his head.

  His eyes bulged and his body twitched. He took a very unsteady step toward Nell before his knees gave.

  The disgusting Sorcerer fell face first into the dirt. A second machete, gleaming in the light, protruded from the center of his back.

  Nell looked past him to the window.

  The top half of Captain Allen awkwardly protruded through the window. He gave her a large grin. “Couldn’t find it in me ta leave a lady alone in the swamp. Thought I’d come check and see if you was doing okay.”

  Nell was immensely happy for his chivalry. She looked at the dead Sorcerer. “Good now. Thank you.”

  Trent looked at the newcomer. “Nice shot.”

  “He, um… He’s been drugged,” Nell said as she removed the wire from Trent’s ankles and then his hands. He rubbed his wrists and stretched his shoulders but made no attempt to stand.

  Captain Allen pulled himself back out the window and went around to the door. He shooed the gators back to the water before entering the hut. He looked around. “Drugged, huh?”

  Trent looked
up at Nell as he leaned against the post. “I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk. I’ve figured it out.” He nodded his head, a very serious look on his face. “I’m probably gonna kill you. But it’ll be me killing you, and no one else. You hear me?” He pointed a wandering finger at her.

  Captain Allen crossed his arms over his chest and nodded his approval. “Man’s got a way with words, he does.”

  Nell grabbed the gun and Crey’s cell phone then retrieved the box from the woods. By the time she returned, Trent was standing with Captain Allen’s help.

  Nell looked around nervously as the Captain pulled his machete from Crey’s back and wiped the blood on the creep’s leg. “Can we get the hell out of here?”

  “Yes ma’am.” He led Trent to the dock.

  Nell looked back at the shack. “What about him?”

  He sat Trent in one of the seats next to him on the airboat then pointed to the gators on the bank. “’Round here, nature takes its course.”

  She tossed the gun and phone into the water. “Ah.” She nodded. “Somehow that’s fitting. I’d rather not be here for dinner though.”

  “Me neither,” Trent said, slapping his hand on his knee. “It’s about time I took you out. Like a real date.” He looked to Captain Allen. “You have any recommendations?”

  “Not much of a restaurant man, myself.”

  Hot, Hard & Howling

  Chapter Twelve

  “Please, break whatever hex the man put on him. I can’t take it.” Nell pleaded with Barri as the Voodoo Queen came down the stairs into the courtyard.

  The beautiful woman gave her an empathetic giggle. “Is this not what you’ve wanted?” She turned her head in Trent’s direction.

  He was sitting in a chair, leaning back. A silly grin was plastered on his face as he looked up at the morning sky. “It’s almost as beautiful as you, Nelly,” he said.

  “Not like this.” Nell shook her head. “It’s stopped his shift too.”