Wanted: Wild Thing (Midnight Liaisons)

by Jessica Sims

  I crawled in about halfway, then got tired and lay down.

  “Get your legs in,” she snapped, and pushed at my limbs. “Come on.”

  “You’re not being nice,” I chided sleepily, but I curled up and she slammed the car door. One of my sparkly heels caught in the door, and it bounced back open. She gave a sigh of exasperation, then grabbed my feet and began to undo the buckle across the arch of each pink shoe. I giggled and squirmed, not used to someone touching my feet. I didn’t even get pedicures—I’d learned to do my own. “That tickles.”

  “I’m going to tear your wings out if you don’t stop squirming,” she said in a deceptively charming voice. “I’m going to clip them so you can’t fly away, but if you don’t behave, I’ll just rip those wrinkled little things out at the root.”

  I frowned. That didn’t sound nice. I pressed my heated face to the seat and sighed, wishing the leather felt cooler against my skin. “Sorry.”

  “That’s better,” she said, tossing my shoes into the car and shutting the door.

  I yawned, my eyelids heavy. I barely noticed her getting into the front seat of the car and turning the ignition on. The radio blared, but she quickly clicked it off and glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Just a few minutes more and we’ll be at one of the nearby ley-lines. I can open a portal there, and we’ll be home free.”

  “You should just use your rune,” I said helpfully. “That’s what Hugh does.”

  “That’s different magic, you idiot,” she said, backing the car out of the parking lot. “The fae realm is more guarded than those pitiful pocket realms that the servants live in.” She glanced in the rearview mirror again and gave me a shrewd look. “So Hugh has a rune, does he?”

  “He does,” I said dreamily. “He’s got two of them.”

  “Finian’s spent a small fortune on you, then. That kind of magic isn’t cheap.” The car eased forward, and she shifted gears. Her eyes widened as she looked in the rearview mirror. “Oh, dear.”

  Something heavy slammed into the back of the car.

  I rolled off the seat and slid to the floorboards of the car, wincing. I dragged myself back onto my seat and flopped back down as the fae in the front seat hastily put on her seat belt.

  The heavy thing slammed into the back of the car again. I heard the crunch of metal at the same time I heard the feral roar.

  “That’s Hugh,” I said and patted the yawn escaping my mouth. “He’s not happy.”

  A snarl escaped the woman’s pretty mouth as she looked back at me. I watched her jerk at the gearshift, then I heard the tires squeal as the car lurched, then shot forward, nearly knocking me off the seat again. My stomach gave a queasy lurch.

  We jerked to the side, turning out of the parking lot.

  Something slammed into the car again. The crunch of metal was even louder than before, and glass shattered. The world flipped and my body slammed into the roof of the car.

  Everything went black.

  I woke up a few moments later, blurry. Shattered glass was all around me, and I was lying on the roof of the car, with the street at eye level. Had we flipped over? I could hear a police siren somewhere in the distance, but it seemed so far away. Something wet trickled down the side of my face, and I swiped at it. I glanced at the front of the car, but it was empty.

  I was alone.

  “Oh, dear,” I muttered to myself more than anyone else. I raked aside the broken glass with my hand, then winced when that hurt. Whoops. I examined my arm and watched blood well up through the sleeve of my pretty white dress. That was stupid, Ryder. But stupid seemed to be the only brain function I had left. That, and the constant feeling that I needed to take a nap.

  I got to my hands and knees and began to crawl onto the street from the back of the car. It took a few moments for me to wiggle out, and by the time I did, both my hands and my knees were cut up from the glass. There was no pain, but it’d hurt in the morning.

  Once outside the car, I staggered to my feet and stared, in a daze, at the wreck of the vehicle. There was only one car in the wreck—ours. It had been flipped onto its back, and one side looked as if it had been hit by another car. The door was accordioned and smashed shut.

  There was no sign of the fae anywhere. Or Hugh, for that matter.

  My eyes closed, and I weaved unsteadily on my feet.

  “You okay, miss? Do I need to call nine-one-one?”

  I opened my eyes and stared unsteadily at the man who had appeared. On the other side of the street, a car had its flashers on, and the front door was hanging open. The man at my side was older, gray-haired, and wore thick glasses and a sweater-vest.

  Was this another one of the fae’s tricks? Frowning to myself, I pinched the man’s cheek. “Is that you in there?”

  He gave me a disgusted look. “You’re drunk, aren’t you? Give me your keys.” He held out his hand. “I’m calling the police. You should be ashamed. You could have hurt someone.”

  “I wasn’t driving,” I protested, then yawned heavily. “I just want a nap.”

  An earsplitting roar came from down the street.

  “What the hell was that?” the man whispered.

  I turned toward it, my interest pricking. “Is that Hugh? Here, kitty kitty. Nice kitty.” I tried to snap my fingers, then became fascinated with the way my fingers didn’t seem to work properly. Stupid fingers.

  Heavy feet slammed on the pavement, and the man next to me sucked in a breath. “Do you see that?”

  “See what?” I peered at the world around me, but everything was fuzzy and black. I couldn’t tell what was going on. I weaved unsteadily on my feet.

  “I gotta get out of here,” the man shouted, and he let me go.

  I collapsed on the ground, unable to stand on my own. I was pretty sure I had glass in my butt now, and I whimpered, unable to help myself. I couldn’t do anything. What was wrong with me?

  Roofies. Oh, right. I decided I hated roofies a second before the world got all black around me again.

  The earsplitting roar happened again, dragging me back to consciousness. I cracked one eye open and saw enormous striped paws near my head. I was lying on the concrete, glass glittering all around me and distracting my vision. I whimpered, because everything hurt and I was too weak to get up.

  An enormous cat-head appeared in the edges of my vision. I saw stripes, feral green eyes, and enormous, foot-long fangs extending from the barrel-sized head.

  Hugh.

  “Hey, kitty,” I said sleepily.

  My head fell back to the pavement, and I was out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I came to sometime later, my eyelids heavy as if there had been a brick resting on each one. My mouth tasted like a wad of cotton, and my head felt fuzzy. I could hear crickets chirping, and the grass under my head was wet. My eyes slowly focused, and I looked up at a canopy of leaves overhead.

  Huh?

  I scrubbed at my mouth, hating the taste of it and wishing I could remember more of how I’d gotten here. Every bone in my body ached, and something hard was digging into my lower back. My head pounded, and I lifted a hand to rub at it . . . and realized that I had horns.

  Frowning, I glanced at my hand and realized it was scaled.

  Scales . . . trees . . . flashes of last night rolled through my mind. Crawling out the bathroom window. A car wreck. Hugh’s animalistic roars. A woman’s face slid in and out of memory. Sickness rolled through my gut.

  I’d been kidnapped.

  I rolled over in the grass, my blunted claws digging into the earth as I assessed the situation. My eyes were having a hard time focusing on my surroundings, but it was warm and humid in the area, and birds chirped somewhere in the distance. Insects buzzed, and the ground underneath me felt wet with dew. The smells of dirt and plants overwhelmed my senses and made my stomach churn sickeni
ngly. I wanted to throw up. Had the disguised fae prince managed to get me to the fae realm after all? Was that why I was in my changeling form?

  Something fuzzy touched my back and I jerked upright, flipping over with a shriek to look.

  An enormous saber-toothed tiger stared back at me, green eyes gleaming. The long fangs protruded from his mouth, gleaming and dangerous and inches away from my face.

  I heaved a sigh of relief. “Hugh.” I reached out and grabbed the cat by the ruff to kiss his nose. “Oh, my God, you have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

  A rough tongue swiped at my cheek, the cat version of nuzzling. I laughed with relief, and it turned into a sob. “I don’t know what happened last night. My mind’s all messed up. Where are we?”

  The cat nosed me again, expectantly.

  “I don’t speak saber-tooth,” I told him. “Nor do I interpret nose-butts.”

  The cat made a low, grumbling noise in its throat that might have been either a purr, a growl, or a laugh. I couldn’t tell. He turned, paced away a few steps, and his shoulders hunched.

  I knew what that meant—a shift. I closed my eyes to give him a bit of privacy, waiting patiently for him to finish shifting. A moment later, a big hand brushed my cheek. I opened my eyes and looked into Hugh’s human face.

  He was stark naked.

  I glanced down at my body. So was I, for that matter. “Where did our clothing go?”

  “You transformed when I carried you through the portal,” Hugh said. His gaze, surprisingly anxious, continued to search my face, and his thumb stroked my chin. “I had to take your clothing off or it would have hurt you. Your dress was very tight against your skin.”

  Oh. That it was. It made sense, I suppose. I still had trouble focusing. “And your clothing?”

  “Tore it when I shifted.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t important. “Are you well?”

  “I’m not hurt? All my scrapes and bruises are gone.” I distinctly remembered broken glass and blood on my hands and knees, but the scabs on my skin were only tender and well on their way to healing.

  “Time has passed. You have been asleep for some time.”

  I pressed two fingers between my brows, wishing my headache would go away. “Last night seems to be a blur.” Try as I might, I couldn’t recall everything. It flashed in and out of my mind in a vague jumble of images.

  “The fae tried to grab you,” he said, then angrily bared his fangs. “You went with him. Why?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think. “I think he drugged me. Roofie. It’s something someone can put in your drink that gets rid of your inhibitions. Basically it makes you unable to say no.” I shivered. “I can’t believe I was roofied.”

  “And nearly taken.” His eyes narrowed, and that hard look crossed his face again. “I nearly lost you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, then grimaced. “And I don’t know why I’m apologizing. I didn’t know I was going to be drugged.” I glanced around at our surroundings. “So you took me here? To the primordial realm?”

  Hugh gave a short nod. “There was much chaos after your car turned over. People were arriving, and I had lost my clothing because I’d changed. They were going to take you away, so I chased them off and took you. The fae ran and I could not find him.” He bared his extended fangs again, Hugh’s version of a scowl. “I think he shifted faces once more.”

  I rubbed my arms, shivering at the thought. “If he can change faces over and over again, I don’t know how I’ll be safe from him.”

  “You will be, here in the primordial realm with me,” Hugh said fiercely. “You will not leave my side.”

  “But we can’t stay here. Finian won’t like my being here, because it messes up his schedule. Time passes differently in this place, so that screws up how much time I have left before I fully turn.” I extended my arm and regarded my scales. They were a pale green, softly gleaming. It was . . . pretty. That was strange. I touched my face and wondered how different it looked. I craned my head, trying to glimpse my wings, but they were still wrinkled and lay against my back, not fully developed.

  Hugh got to his feet, leaving me eye level with his rather impressive equipment. “At this moment, I do not care what Finian likes or does not like.” He extended a hand down to me.

  I took it, blushing and trying not to glimpse the cock I had been eye level with just moments ago. My feet were still wobbly, and my legs were feeling weak. I struggled to take a few steps, then sighed at how much it made my head spin. “I think I’m still hungover from the drugs.”

  “I will carry you,” Hugh said. He reached for me, and before I could protest, he swung me into his arms. One strong hand grasped my thigh and supported me behind my knees, and the other crossed my back and pressed me against his chest.

  My breast pushed against his bare skin and I gasped, feeling need flood through me. “Sorry.”

  “Do not apologize for touching me,” Hugh gritted as he shifted me against him.

  “Yes, but . . . you don’t want to be tempted,” I said, feeling that same overwhelming sadness. I shifted, trying to get comfortable in his arms without pressing too much of my body against his. “I won’t do that to you anymore. It’s not fair to you.”

  “Ryder, do not worry about me.” Hugh pulled me closer to his chest, shifting me so I had no choice but to press a hand against one lightly furred pectoral. “Get comfortable. It is a long walk back to the caves.”

  “The caves?” I looked at him in surprise. “Is that where we’re going?”

  He gave a short nod and began to walk.

  “Are . . . are you sure you want to carry me? I can walk. I just need time to adjust—”

  “Let me care for you,” he said softly. His arms tightened around me. “Relax. Sleep if you need to.”

  I wouldn’t. I remained tense as Hugh cradled me against his chest and continued to stride forward through the swampy forest. After a few minutes of silence, though, I realized Hugh wasn’t breathing hard. He wasn’t winded at all. So I relaxed, lulled by the rocking motion of Hugh’s steps.

  Eventually, I even drifted off to sleep, still exhausted.

  I woke up sometime later, my cheek cuddled against Hugh’s shoulder, one side of my body warm from lying against him, the other chilly. I glanced around and saw that it had gotten dark while I’d slept. I looked up and saw Hugh’s cat-eyes, gleaming in the darkness. “Where are we?”

  “Almost to my home,” Hugh said in a low voice. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better, I guess?” I rubbed my eyes and sighed at the sight of my changeling skin. “Still scaly, though.”

  “You will be as long as we are here in this realm,” Hugh said. “It is part of who you are.”

  “It sucks.” I wrinkled my nose at my scales, though they were now a pale, pretty green. “I hate it.”

  “You are beautiful,” Hugh said, ducking a low-hanging branch. “I could look at you all day and never get tired of gazing at you.”

  Oh, wow. I felt a wiggle of heat prickle through me at that. “Thank you.”

  “I speak the truth,” he said simply.

  He did, because he never lied. I basked in his compliment for a time, still snuggled up against him and feeling too delicious to volunteer to get down and walk. There was something decadent about letting Hugh carry me, and I hated to admit that I enjoyed every moment of it.

  “We are almost there,” Hugh told me. He shifted, then glanced down at me with concerned eyes. “Can you walk?”

  “I can try,” I told him and felt a little twinge of disappointment when he shifted and gently placed me on my feet. I wiggled my toes in the grass. I was hungry and tired, but the fuzzy, confused feeling had left me. I took a few steps and nodded at Hugh. “I’m good. Thank you for carrying me.”

  “It was my pleasure,” he told me in a husky voice that s
ent shivers up my spine and made my folded wings flutter. When he said it like that, it really did sound like it was a pleasure for him.

  Was Hugh . . . flirting with me? This wasn’t like him. I gave him a surprised look, and another when his hand slid down my back, as if reluctant to release me. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, then put a hand to the small of my back, just north of my flicking tail. “Come. Do not be afraid. I will protect you from everyone.”

  I frowned at that. “Do I need to be protected from the others?”

  “They . . . will not be pleased to see me. Now, come.” Hugh nudged me forward.

  We dove through low overhanging trees and maneuvered around brushy ferns. The jagged, sheer cliff appeared in the distance, and I felt a pit of dread in my stomach at the sight. Why would the other primordials be unhappy to see Hugh? Had something else happened that I didn’t understand? I kept my worries to myself, since Hugh had gone silent, a sure sign that he was troubled.

  Timidly, I brushed my hand against his. For some reason, I wanted to be held. To know that someone was going to help me. That I wasn’t as alone in this as I felt.

  Hugh’s hand clasped mine. He laced his fingers through my own, and I felt that weird wiggle of warmth in my belly again. I noticed that his claws were out, though, and glanced up to see his eyes completely dark, entirely animal. He was on high alert.

  Then he stopped. He lifted his head and sniffed the air.

  I glanced around, seeing nothing. Trees, trees, darkness, and more trees. Just then, a pair of gleaming eyes caught my attention in the nearby bushes. I sucked in a breath and nudged Hugh.

  “I know,” he told me. “It’s all right, Ryder. It’s Artur, come to greet us.”

  The bushes shook, and a moment later, the warrior emerged. He was fully naked as well—strange how I still wasn’t used to all the naked beefcake strolling around in this place—and wore a scowl on his brutal, ugly face. His arms were crossed over his chest (which was thicker and broader than Hugh’s, which I didn’t think was possible). “Brother. You will not receive a warm welcome for this return, I am afraid.”