by Liza Street
He stopped wiping the mark on her shoulder and tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes.
“I guess we should,” he said carefully.
What wasn’t he saying?
But instead of asking, she put on her clothes and left the trailer. Morning was approaching, a new lightness in the sky that she could barely see against the branches of the pines and fir. The air was cold against her skin, making her glad she’d opted for a sweatshirt. She kept both the sweatshirt and her t-shirt pulled slightly away from the bite on her shoulder. The bleeding had stopped, but she didn’t want the fabric to irritate the wound.
She didn't think anything could compare to the pain she was feeling. Not the pain from her bite—that didn't bother her in the slightest. But the pain of thinking that Marcus didn't want her. The pain of leaving him behind. It didn't feel right, this idea of leaving him here while she was whisked off to safety.
And then there was the notion of him not wanting to bite her. He didn't want to mark her as his. Oh, he had seemed to enjoy it enough. They both had. But now that the post-sex haze had faded, she sensed he was regretting all of it.
Well, screw him, she thought as they walked to the gravel line. He could regret whatever he wanted, but she wasn't going to regret a thing. The only thing she regretted was leaving him.
Then again, she wasn't leaving entirely. If Grant and Caitlyn didn't want to take her in, she'd find a spot to camp out while she waited for Blythe to get free.
Marcus reached for her. Very carefully, he moved her hair aside, uncovering her bite. "Does it hurt?"
"Not really." It stung a little, and it was sore, but she didn’t mind it.
"I'm sorry it had to come to that," he said.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled and exhaled slowly. She didn't want to hear anything else about his regret, she didn't want any apologies. She wanted him to hold her tight, so tight like he would never let her go, like he had in the trailer.
They faced the gravel line. As the sky lightened, she could see more of the forest, Caitlyn and Grant’s cabin with its darkened windows, and even the outline of the dusky mountains in the distance.
Their toes touched the gravel.
"Well, I guess this is it," Jessica said. "The moment of truth."
"I'm going to miss you," he said.
"No you won't," she said with forced cheer. "I'm not going anywhere until we get Blythe out."
He nodded. "That's right. I forgot."
Her heart felt heavy as a stone. It was like he wanted her to disappear, like he never wanted to see her again. She wasn't sure how to reconcile that with the man who’d just made passionate love to her in the trailer.
She was tired of thinking about it, anyway. Maybe, with a little distance between them, she could start to figure things out.
"All right," Jessica said. "Let's do this."
As before, they held out their free arms. Their other hands were joined.
As before, Jessica felt a solid barrier in front of her.
Startled, she looked up at Marcus. Her feelings were a jumble. Elation, that she wasn't leaving his side after all. Heartache, that they weren't actually mates. She hated the stupid wall. She hated what it was doing to her. It was ridiculous that something invisible could have so much power over her. Not only power over her physically, but power over her emotions. If this was the real world, the world she had grown up in, she would go after Marcus no matter what. There’d be no stupid wall to worry about, no mate marks, no psycho animals trying to get her.
She kicked the wall. "I hate this place!"
When she tried to kick the wall again, Marcus wrapped his arms around her and hauled her back.
"You're going to hurt yourself," he said.
"I don't care. I am just so mad."
He didn't say anything; he merely held her tight. Her ear was pressed up against his chest, and she listened to his heartbeat. Instead of calming her, the sound reminded her of what she could not have—Marcus's heart.
"I need to be alone," she said. "I promise to stop kicking the wall."
"Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone when you're upset."
"I'm sure. Please, get out of here." Her throat choked up on the last words. She didn't want him to see her crying.
His mouth twisted in concern. He looked torn between giving her what she wanted and ignoring her wishes.
“Please,” she said. “I’m not asking to run off into the woods like last time. I’ll stay in the trailer. I just need space.”
"I'll go find Jase or Stetson to keep watch," he said finally, his forehead wrinkled in a frown. "I'm sorry, Jessica."
She wished he would call her by some other name, inject a little levity into the situation, but if she was being real, she knew that their wacky terms of endearment would only make her cry.
Marcus eventually released her. “Are you really sure you want to be alone?”
“Yes.” She knew he’d hear the truth.
Sighing, he said, "Okay, if that's what you want."
She couldn't bring herself to look at him, and waited until his footsteps faded away before she went inside the trailer.
Only then did she let her tears fall.
She didn't know how much time passed before a quiet knock came on the trailer door.
"It's Jase. Marcus asked me to come. I'll give you your privacy, but if you need anything, let me know.”
"Thanks," she said.
She waited until his footsteps faded away. He’d be able to hear everything she did in here, so she forced herself to breathe past the tightness in her throat until the urge to sob passed.
Then she punched the shit out of one of the pillows.
She was no longer mad at Marcus. She was mad at herself, for falling in love with him.
22
Marcus’s cabin had never felt less like his own. It had been weird enough moving into the place after Carter and Lena left the Junkyard. But it was roomier than the trailer, and he could actually stretch out on the bed. Now, though, nothing felt right. He should be with Jessica. He ached to hold her, to wipe away her tears, to erase her sorrow.
He didn't understand why they couldn't get over the boundary line. Mate mark or no, he knew with certainty that she was his mate.
But maybe he wasn't the one for her? It stood to reason that there could be someone else out there to love her as much as he did. She was the best person he knew. Maybe the fates had chosen someone better for her.
The day passed slowly, every moment a rock filling his heart until he felt too heavy to move. He moved between sitting inside the cabin, to sitting outside, and could go no farther.
The sun was dipping, shadows stretching over the forest floor, and Marcus couldn’t sit any longer. She’d had all day to herself. He couldn't leave her alone another second while she was hurting.
He stood up, put on his shoes, and left the cabin.
He hadn’t gone five yards before a piercing scream rang out over the dump.
His feet refused to move. Heart in his throat, he played the scream over again in his mind. The tone had been wrong for Jessica—a lower pitch.
It had to have been Blythe.
So instead of running for the trailer to check on Jessica, he ran in the other direction, toward the dump. It was what Jessica would want him to do, despite his urges to first check on his mate.
Because she was his mate. He wasn’t asking fate about it—he was telling it to himself. As far as his heart and soul were concerned, Jessica was the one for him.
When he reached the dump, he came upon an alarming sight. He had never seen more than Blythe's head, because she had been hidden away in the old RV. Now, however, he saw her entire wiry form as Barnum led her to a cage.
It took Marcus only a second to take in everything in front of him. Blythe screaming, Barnum's fist clenching the back of her sweatshirt as he pushed her forward, and the cage itself—constructed of scrap wood and metal. Barnum must have made it, probab
ly with Alleman's help.
"Get in there," Barnum growled, giving Blythe another shove. "There's gonna be a fight tonight, and you're the prize."
Marcus strode forward. "Let her go. Now."
"Or what?" Barnum said. "Are you going to fight me for this one, too? That's a bit greedy of you, don't you think?"
"You know that's not what I'm doing," Marcus said. "Let her go. This is wrong."
Barnum shoved Blythe the rest of the way into the cage, then slammed the door shut. He fit a padlock into it, then pushed it closed. "Wrong? There's no wrong here. They dumped us in the Junkyard because we’re wrong. What the fuck else do you expect me to do in here?"
"I expect you to be better." Marcus took careful, restrained steps forward.
“Fuck you. We’re moving the fight up to tonight. The Junkyard’s tired of waiting.”
This was less than ideal. Marcus had thought there would be more time to prep.
Marcus didn't stop advancing until he was within three feet of Barnum. They stared each other down. Marcus was vaguely aware of Blythe in the cage. He got ready to throw the first punch.
Just as he was about to swing, Blythe shouted, "Marcus! Behind you!"
Her warning came too late. Pain exploded through his head and he went down, face first into the mud.
As he lost consciousness, he heard Barnum say, “Now that bitch will be mine.”
23
Jessica had spent all day moping in the trailer. At one point, Jase had knocked and let her know he would be sending Stetson along to take his place as guard. Then Stetson had knocked, letting her know he was switching with Jase. She wondered how many days would pass this way. She wondered when Marcus would come back. When she had said she wanted time to think, she hadn't meant days and days.
As far as the actual thinking she was doing, it wasn't helping. Her heart felt bruised and achy. Her eyes felt puffy and sore from crying so much. Even flipping through the plant books didn't give her as much comfort as it should have, because they were a reminder of Marcus.
"Giving someone a book isn't a declaration of love," she muttered angrily to herself.
Now that it was evening, and Marcus still hadn't come back, her despair was quickly turning into anger. He should be here, dammit. They should fight for each other. Like she had said earlier, fuck fate. She wasn't going to let fate determine who she loved. She loved Marcus, that was all there was to it. No, she couldn't explain it. She had no idea why it happened so quickly. Maybe it was a shifter thing. Or maybe, when she knew, she knew.
If Marcus didn't arrive in an hour, she was sending Jase out to get him. As much as she'd like to march into the woods and find him herself, she knew that would be the height of stupidity. She had made enough mistakes in this Junkyard.
The sound of snarling animals broke the peaceful quiet. They were close, maybe a couple hundred feet from the trailer.
Someone had come, and they were fighting with Jase.
Rigid with fear, Jessica dropped to the floor of the trailer to hide. Then she realized how silly that was. There was no hiding from shifters—they’d sniff her out regardless of where she went.
She clambered over to the bed where she’d be able to peek out through the curtains. All she could see was darkness, though. Shadows moved through it, but she couldn’t make out shapes, not even what animals were out there.
The fighting was over almost immediately. Jessica held her breath, waiting.
Someone knocked on the trailer door and she jumped up. Please let it be Jase—please let him have won. Or even better—Marcus.
"Hello," she said softly.
There was no answer.
"Jase? Is that you?"
A sinking feeling in her gut told her it wasn’t Jase.
The door banged open. Instead of Marcus or Jase, she was face to face with Alleman. His red-blond hair was streaked with blood, making it look darker, and his black eyes shone with excitement.
He was happy. And that was bad news for her.
Immediately, she grabbed the closest thing she had to a weapon—the kitchen knife she had used for slicing apples.
He laughed when he saw her pick it up.
“Barnum, come see,” he called over his shoulder. “Our little bitch has a weapon.”
A second guy showed up in the doorway. His brown hair was short and his hazel eyes looked dead. He smiled, too, and with those dead eyes, his smile was just as creepy as Alleman's. "The pup has claws."
Holding the knife out in front of her, Jessica tried to steady her breathing. Her arm was shaking wildly, but she would not hesitate to cut one of these guys—or better, both. They might win the fight, but she wasn't going down easy.
Alleman looked from the knife to her face and laughed again. Then he lunged toward her.
A week ago, Jessica would not have been able to even track his movements. But after spending all day, every day with Marcus, she had more of a fighting chance. She slashed out with the knife, and what she lacked in confidence, she made up for with panic.
The knife wasn't very sharp, but it sliced through Alleman’s forearm anyway. She must've caught him somewhere important, because he was bleeding a lot.
"You'll pay for that," he growled, before reaching for her again.
She slashed out with the knife again, but she wasn't as lucky this time. The blade merely grazed the top of his hand, and then his arms were reaching around her in a chilling mockery of an embrace. He squeezed her wrist until she was forced to drop the knife.
She stomped on his foot, but she wasn't wearing shoes and he was, and it probably hurt her heel more than it hurt him. She used her elbows, knees, and feet, trying to get free. He merely grunted when she made contact.
"She's a feisty one," he said to Barnum. He lifted her and carried her the few steps toward the door.
Jessica's hand was free, just barely, and she tried to grip the door jamb. She knew the effort was futile. These guys were stronger, bigger, faster.
They left the trailer. Several yards away, a figure was lying on the ground, a huge mountain lion, probably Jase. The big cat wasn’t moving, and she was too far away to see if its body rose and fell with breaths.
As Alleman continued carrying her, she tried to scream for Marcus. As soon as a sound left her throat, Alleman’s hand came over her mouth. He smelled like beer and body odor. She tried to bite his hand anyway, but he held her face in a way that she couldn't.
He carried her through the dark forest, step after purposeful step. Jessica was facing forward, grateful for at least the smidgen of mercy that she could see where they were headed. One of his arms was banded around her arms and waist, the other he kept over her mouth.
Barnum walked nearby, but not too close. She doubted either of them trusted the other. Maybe she could use that to her advantage. She tried to talk through Alleman's hand, to make it seem as if she was more panicked than usual, and then to signal with her eyes that Barnum was coming after her. But Alleman ignored her.
They reached the dump. Jessica recognized the school bus, then the RV where Blythe was staying. The tractor was still next to it, where she and Marcus had hidden that night when they visited Blythe. But there was a gaping hole in the back of the RV.
Jessica struggled again, harder. Where was Blythe? What had they done with her?
They came around the edge of the RV, and Jessica found Blythe. She sat in a giant cage that looked like it had been constructed from random pieces of metal and fencing. Blythe was sitting with her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, but she looked up as Jessica and her captors moved closer.
"Jessica!" Blythe shouted.
Barnum fiddled with the lock on the door, then yanked it open. Blythe rushed forward, but Barnum held her back while Alleman pushed Jessica into the cage. The force of Alleman’s shove sent Jessica to her knees and she yelped at the sharp sting of pain.
Blythe spit at them as the cage door clanged shut. "Monsters," she hissed.
B
arnum shrugged, and Alleman laughed.
"You will each become attached to one of us eventually," Alleman said. "Once you're mated, the others will leave you alone. Doesn't that sound nice?"
"If that's the truth,” Jessica shot back, "then I’m already mated."
"That so?" Alleman said.
"Yes, Marcus is my mate."
He gave her a sly grin. "I sense a lie there."
Dammit. She wanted Marcus to be her mate, but the barrier had other ideas. Shouldn't her heart’s desire count more than some stupid magic spell?
The two men walked away, Barnum whistling as he went.
Blythe helped Jessica off her knees and into a more comfortable sitting position. Jessica hugged her friend, relieved to see her whole and uninjured.
"I was so worried about you," Jessica said.
Blythe squeezed her tighter. "I was fine until a couple hours ago. They ripped apart my RV and hauled me to this cage. Your guy, Marcus, tried to save me."
Jessica leaned back from Blythe, terror thrumming through her veins. "Marcus? Is he okay?"
"I think so. They knocked him out and dragged him away. But he was still breathing, from what I could see."
"As soon as he wakes up, he'll save us," Jessica said. She knew it with every fiber of her being. Marcus wouldn't rest until she was safe.
The realization was swift and sudden. This was why he wanted her gone, out of the Junkyard. It wasn't because he didn't like her. It wasn't because he didn't think they were mates. It was because he thought her departure was the only way she would be safe. He had said it, but she hadn't really internalized the meaning until this moment. This situation was exactly what he feared.
She understood now.
Not that it would've made any difference, though, not with the boundary keeping them inside.
Jessica stood up. "We need to search the cage for weaknesses. Nobody's around. If we can pull it apart, even just a tiny bit, maybe we can crawl through and escape."
"I've tried it," Blythe said. "Even though it looks like a piece of shit, every bit of wire and metal holds. Besides, if we get out, where are we supposed to run to?"