by Mina Carter
He winked to reassure her, his eyes full of easy charm, and Caitlin couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief. However much Jayce hadn’t wanted her around, she knew they’d give up their last breath protecting her.
“Yeah, what he said,” Jayce pitched in. The werecat’s gaze flitted from one to the other. Then he smiled. It wasn’t a nice expression.
“You’re Vanir, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
The cat reached inside his jacket and pulled out a snub-nosed handgun. Cat screamed as he pointed it directly at Jayce. “Got a message from your dad.”
Chapter 2
“Run!” Ryder bellowed at Cat, shoving her toward the back door as Jayce collapsed, blood pooling in a wide circle on the floor around him. She did as she was told as Ryder waded into the fray, shouting Jayce’s name.
The bar erupted into violence as the big wolf and the locals took on the werecats. Two more shots rang out. The long mirror behind the bar shattered as she passed. Cat shrieked and ducked, covering her head with one hand as she scooted a few steps, half on her hands and knees, before gaining her feet again.
“Hey, asshole! That was my mother’s!” the woman at the bar yelled and ducked out of sight, emerging a second later with a heavy shotgun in her hands. Within seconds the place resembled a war zone.
Jayce’s blood scented the air like exotic incense and Cat stopped by the door Ryder had pushed her toward. She trembled, caught between the instinct to run for safety and her need to do something. She couldn’t just leave them and save her own ass, not with Ryder standing over Jayce’s still form throwing werecats around like they were toys.
Cat bit her lip, her expression worried. She hoped Jayce was only unconscious, but there was an awful lot of blood on the floor. Too much blood. Moving before she was conscious of deciding, she dodged back through the crowd, able to avoid the grasping hands with ease to reach the safety of Ryder’s side. He turned as she drew level with him, violence in his eyes. He didn’t argue her presence, just nodded.
“Get him out of here,” he ordered, turning back to the fight. Cat squeaked as a chair shattered over his shoulder, but the tall wolf barely seemed to notice it, snapping a bark that sounded odd in his human form and lashing out with a vicious right hook.
Doing as she was told didn’t come easily to Cat but she was scared enough to obey without question. Wrinkling her nose, she hooked her hands under Jayce’s prone form and hauled him up so she could link her fingers over his broad chest.
“Don’t you dare die on me, you awkward bastard,” she muttered as she started to pull him backward.
It was like dragging a lump of granite. She’d known Jayce was solid, but even being plastered over him less than ten minutes ago hadn’t given her a real appreciation for how heavy all that muscle could be.
“Christ, Jayce, you need to go on a diet,” she grumbled, setting her heels and dragging him another couple of feet.
“Well, hello, what do we have here?”
Cat looked up. Standing over her, his leather jacket gone with his shirt ripped and bloody, was the blond werecat, a leer on his lips.
“You really are a pretty little thing, aren’t you? I didn’t think when we took this job we’d get a bonus like you as well.”
Cat snarled at him, baring her teeth. All fire on the surface, she hoped he didn’t realize her knees were practically knocking together. “One step closer and I’ll—”
He laughed. “You’ll what? Nip my ankles?”
A shadow rose behind him. Cat flinched as the butt of a shotgun flashed, the sound of a meaty crunch audible as it connected with the back of the werecat’s head. He went down like a marionette with its strings cut. The woman from behind the bar looked down at the fallen figure impassively and then delivered a savage kick to his stomach.
“That’s for my mom’s mirror. Filthy cats, given half the chance I’d take a spade to the bloody lot of ‘em. Always yowling and fucking outside. It’s disgusting,” she complained, kneeling next to Jayce and checking his pulse.
Cat offered a small smile. “After that I’m hoping you’re a dog person,” she indicated the shotgun and the fallen cat.
“Yeah, dogs are cool. Wolves are okay too,” she replied, amusement in her gray eyes. “Hey, Blake…get your good-for-nothing ass over here!”
Her bellow had a tall, slender man on the other side of the room look up sharply. Fighting two cats, he hit them with the nearest thing at hand, using the top of a table like a huge club.
“Fore!” he yelled before dropping it on the unconscious forms and strolling over to the fallen wolf and his companions as though he had all the time in the world.
“How’s he look, Honey?” Ryder dropped to his knees next to Cat, worry etched into his handsome face. Cat glanced around, belatedly realizing all the cats were unconscious or moaning in their own private worlds of pain.
Good. Served them right. All she was concerned about was Jayce. She looked back at him as worry twisted in her gut. There was so much blood. Way too much. It pooled thickly under his body and the heady scent of wolf blood and approaching death rolled around the bar. Inside, Cat’s wolf threw back its head and howled mournfully.
The bartender pulled the blood-stained vest away and studied what lay beneath. “He’s gut-shot. We need to get him conscious and shifted. That should clear most of it up. Get him out of danger anyway.”
“Hate to break it to you guys, but this lot called for backup. I’m seeing bikes on the road and ten to one they ain’t the local bike club,” Blake said, moving to the window to look out, urgency in his voice.
Cat’s heart thudded in her chest as the fight or flight instinct fired through her veins. They needed to get out of here before more werecats arrived. With Jayce injured there was no way they’d make it out alive.
“We’re gone. Honey, hold them as long as you can would ya, sweetheart?” Ryder hoisted Jayce in his arms and stood as though the unconscious man weighed nothing. “Cat, get the door. We’ll head out the back.”
“You got it,” the woman replied, her attitude businesslike. “Blake get out front and stall them while I get the wardens on the line.”
Cat strode ahead of the taller werewolf and his burden as they headed out the back door of the bar. Hopelessness swept over her as she stared at the barren terrain. The bar and motel were in the ass-end of beyond, nothing about for miles. There was nowhere to hide, and with Jayce injured they needed somewhere to hole up so he could heal.
“Shit, what do we do?” she asked Ryder, panic clogging her throat. Perhaps they could hide in one of the rooms…no, that wouldn’t work. Werecats had an excellent sense of smell, easily the equal of any wolf. With Jayce bleeding out they’d be found within minutes.
Ryder carried on walking, past Cat and around the back of the motel where he laid his friend on the ground and turned to her. “Change,” he ordered as he undressed.
“W-what?” Cat didn’t hide the surprise that filled her. “What here? Now? It’s not even night…or a full moon.” Her speech faltered as he dropped the T-shirt to the ground and her eyes riveted to the expanse of muscled male chest on view.
Oh my, he has a nipple ring. Heat hit Cat broadside and she put a hand out to the wall to keep her balance, dragging her eyes up from his tattooed and pierced torso.
“Change,” he repeated, his eyes uncompromising. Then he sighed, his expression softening. “Cat honey, we need to move and fast. Which means we need Jay on his feet and not bleeding. So we need to get Jay to change. The only thing that’ll do that now is…oh fucking hell, he’s gonna kill me.” Ryder broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“What? What’s the only thing that’ll make him change?” Cat demanded, reaching for Ryder’s arm as he made to turn away. It was like grabbing a brick wall, full of solid muscle.
He looked at her hand, her pale slender fingers in direct contrast to the tanned brawn of his forearm. The heat in his eyes when he l
ooked up made her gasp and take a step backward.
“Pussy,” he bit out. “Hot, wet pussy. A female wolf…the instinct to mate. It’s the only thing that’ll bring him around in time.”
Cat’s eyes widened, and her cheeks burned. He wanted her to…
“What do I need to do?” she finally managed, her heart pounding as several images flashed through her brain, each more erotic than the last, and imprinted themselves on the backs of her eyelids.
“Take your clothes off.”
Cat closed her eyes, embarrassment washing over her. She understood the need. If Jayce changed, it would force his body to heal. “Turn around then.”
Ryder barked a laugh. Cat winced at the harsh tone.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. A woman who looks like you getting naked and you want me to turn around? Sorry, sweetheart, I want front row seats for this one.” He folded his arms and watched her with interest.
Cat compressed her lips into a thin line. He wanted to play hardball did he? She could do that. It was just like an art study class. She’d posed naked before, no big deal. She’d pretend she was in a room full of artists rather than in front of one of her childhood crushes. Besides—her eyes dropped to the bulge in the front of his pants—he’d have problems with this game of chicken before she did.
Yeah, just like art class. Sure.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She pulled it up and over her head in one smooth movement and dropped it to the dirt at her feet. “So all I have to do is get naked right?” She unsnapped the buttons on her jeans, her cheeks burning. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Not in front of Ryder. Especially not in front of Ryder.
Her gaze flicked to Jayce, still bleeding out on the ground. Determination straightened her spine. What was getting naked, even dancing around in the buff, if it saved Jayce’s life?
Oh fuck, she was gorgeous.
Ryder had had many daydreams, wet dreams and fantasies about Cat over the years, but none of them matched up to the sheer perfection of the reality.
His breathing caught as she slid the denim down her hips in a move to rival any erotic dancer. She wasn’t trying for erotic. He could tell that. There was too much of an air of innocence about her…Ryder doubted she knew the meaning of the word “sultry.” Unlike the women he and Jayce were used to spending their lust on.
The life they led meant women like Cat were few and far between. It didn’t take long in the places they frequented for even the most innocent to lose that naiveté, no matter how much they tried to hang on to it. Which suited the two wolves just fine. They weren’t gentlemen, not used to the mushy relationship stuff.
Most of the time Ryder just wanted to fuck and fuck hard.
So why, watching the slender woman in front of him tremble as she slid those jeans off her sinfully long legs, did he want to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay? Why, when he preferred black leather and nipple clamps, was white cotton suddenly the most erotic thing on the planet?
A noise on the other side of the buildings snapped his head around. His eyes narrowed as he listened to the muffled shouts and the roar of engines. The sound of bikes, a lot of bikes, and a truck.
“They’re searching…sounds like Blake’s heading them off, which gives us a bit of time but we need to move now. They’ll be back after they catch him, if they can. Blake’s not exactly slow when it comes to hauling his ass outta trouble.”
Ryder didn’t envy Blake when they did, but he was a shifter too. Quite what flavor, Ryder didn’t know, no one did, but Blake had a bad enough reputation that no one messed with him. Not even Ryder and Jayce. Hopefully he’d be able to handle a crowd of pissed-off cats.
Ryder shook his head and stripped his pants and boxers off, he couldn’t worry about the other shifter now. He had Cat and Jayce to look after. Besides, if they hurt Blake, or worse, the cats would have Honey to answer to and the Amazonian bar owner was not a woman to mess with. She wasn’t a shifter herself, but since this was the only paranormal bar in miles, she could call on the assistance of every nonhuman in the local vicinity.
He shoved the leather and cotton over his hips down to his ankles, freeing his already hardened cock. He’d been hard since Cat had first walked through the door, a situation not helped any by her increasing nakedness now, but it wasn’t anything he was going to apologize for. Not even at the soft gasp that escaped her, one she quickly smothered as she turned away to unclip her bra.
She wasn’t above a peek herself then. Ryder smiled as he kicked his boots off, the footwear thudding into the dirt. Dammit, he would have to leave them. Clothes could be folded up and secured with a belt to make them easy to carry in wolf form, but custom-made, hand-stitched leather boots? His jaw would be aching for days.
White cotton hit the ground, a flash in his peripheral vision, and Ryder prayed for strength. How the hell he would get through this he didn’t know, but he had to, for all their sakes. That werecat had been loaded for wolf. Ryder had smelled the silver in the air after he’d shot Jayce. Worse, he could feel the burning sensation spreading through his blood-brother’s body as the silver poisoned his system and held him locked into his human form.
His dying human form. A truth Ryder had forbidden Honey to mention in front of Cat with a look and a shake of his head. She was too sheltered to realize what the sharp tang in the air was and, dammit, he wanted to keep her that way.
“Change. Now. He doesn’t have much time.” Blood still dripped from Jayce’s torn abdomen, the thirsty sand below his body absorbing it greedily. “No time for modesty. We need to run noooooowww!”
His last word was stretched out into a moan as Ryder reached for the power of his wolf. The change gathered in a hard knot deep inside and gained critical mass. It bubbled and raced outward under his skin, the push of fur against the inside a warning the wolf was right under the surface. Ryder let it loose, the change ripping through him at light speed.
Bones popped and cracked under the skin. Skin that boiled and stretched into new configurations to cover the shape beneath. Fur sprouted across the tawny human flesh, covering scars, tattoos and piercings alike. Within seconds the man was gone, replaced by the wolf. Opening his eyes, he shook himself, a heavy shudder racking the powerful lycan form and making the thick fur shake.
He was just in time to see Cat finish her own change—the delicately boned, smaller wolf whimpering as she came to her feet in front of him.
Mine. Possessiveness surged through him as he padded around her, the instinct to claim her in this form almost overriding his ability to think. Fuck, she smelled fantastic, her scent calling out to him in a way he couldn’t remember another she-wolf ever affecting him. Not even Vanessa, the bitch who had started all his and Jayce’s problems with the pack.
Sure, Jayce had been the one with the balls to challenge for her but both would have enjoyed her before the month was out. It was the way they were. The bond was too deep for either to have separate relationships…which doomed them both.
The woman they wanted as a mate, the mother of their cubs, wasn’t the sort of woman who would ever consider taking them on. It wasn’t the way wolves were built. They mated with one partner for life, not two. So they limited their relationships to floozies and easy women. Women eager, even begging, to take two horny wolves on in a threesome.
Just fucking. Never loving. And Ryder’s heart ached for the loss.
His muzzle skimmed over Cat’s fur from her tail to up behind her ear. She flinched, skittish on her paws, but held her ground. Good girl, Ryder silently approved. She knew better than to run, in any form. He was glad because if she did, no force on earth would stop him chasing her down and claiming her as his own.
Then Jayce would kill him.
If Jayce survived that was. With a growl Ryder circled again and shouldered Cat toward the still prone form of his brother, prompting her to do her thing. Cat yelped, a sharp sound of surprise, as she was alm
ost knocked off her feet. She shot him a sharp look and padded over to Jayce.
Ryder watched intently, standing to one side with half an ear out for any noise on the road. In all honesty, he’d done as much as he could. He’d gotten Jayce out of there, out of harm’s way, but now it was up to Cat to tempt him into the change that would save his life.
Guilt coiled in his gut. He should have known the cat was packing heat, should have moved quicker, faster, and stopped Jayce getting shot. A grumble sounded in the back of his throat as he berated himself. Cat shot him an irritated look, taking the noise to mean “get on with it.”
Ryder cut the low rumble and watched her. She was graceful in this form, and just as beautiful. Not for us, the big wolf reminded himself as she stepped around his still human-clad brother, whining and nudging him. Her long pink tongue flicked out and laved the side of his neck, his face, anywhere she could touch him.
Jayce groaned, a faint prickle of power touching the air.
Yes, it was working! Ryder couldn’t help taking a couple of steps forward, hope welling in his chest. He’d known Cat would do it. Her scent, light and delicate, was persuasive and he’d taken a gamble it would pull Jayce back to the land of the living. Considering how they’d felt about her, had always felt about her, it was a safe bet. Ryder shied away from the thought. He couldn’t get attached because, as soon as they got to safety, she would be going back to the pack’s protection.
Jayce groaned and opened his eyes. “Caitlin?” He blinked as a spasm of pain crossed his face. “Oh fuck…” He tried to roll over, curling his shoulders to get the momentum to turn onto his side, but failed and fell back with a cry. In an instant both Cat and Ryder were there, the smaller female wolf wedging herself in under the injured man’s side as Ryder used his broad head to roll Jayce over.
Dammit, change, you bastard. He yipped his frustration at his brother. Lying on his side, skin pale and breathing shallow, Jayce still understood him, his lips curling in a small smile. Ryder’s yips changed to a deep rumble, a warning that if Jayce didn’t do something soon Ryder would get annoyed.