Ready to Run: Werewolves in Love, Book 3

by Kinsey W. Holley

  “You’ve known him for a couple months, right? Been out a few times? Lots of people fall in love in less time than that.”

  She yelped and covered her face with her hands. “Do not use that word. I mean— I’ve thought maybe I— No. No. No no no. Can’t think like that. Have to take this one step at a time.”

  TJ held up a hand. “Okay, okay. You’re right—one day at a time, can’t hurry love, blah blah blah. But I gotta tell you, I’ve—ooh! Wait, wait. How was the sex last night?”

  “Huh? How’d you know we did it?”

  “Oh come on.”

  “Aaargh!” She put her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. “Fine! It was—”

  “What, just fine? I always heard he was great in bed.”

  She turned her head to see TJ grinning devilishly, and she had to grin back.

  “Okay, yeah, it was great. He was great. I mean, really, really good.” She paused. “So…he’s had a lot of women?” He was eight years older than her, so she had to assume…

  “Eh. I’m not saying he’s as big a slut as Nick. ’Cause, you know, no one is. But he’s not shy, and chicks dig him.”

  Another thing to avoid thinking about right now.

  They pulled into the shared driveway of Bryan’s condo.

  “I’ll be back in a sec.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  She ran upstairs to get her purse out of Bryan’s bedroom. The doorbell rang as she was on her way back down.

  “TJ?” she hollered. “Come on in if you need—”

  “Okay, we will,” said a horribly familiar voice.

  Her legs went weak.

  “Wayne?”

  Chapter Nine

  “Listen, before we get into the Luxor thing, can I ask a favor?”

  They were seated on the leather couch in Nick’s office.

  “Shoot.”

  “Can I kill James Jerezelsky?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not even gonna give it some thought? Why don’t—?”

  “You think you’re the first wolf who ever wanted to kill the guy? No. He’s my wolf. I’ll decide when he’s too obnoxious to live.”

  They grinned at each other. Nick turned his attention to the pile of papers on the glass-topped coffee table. “What’d he do to piss you off?”

  “He told Sara we’re afraid to date fae chicks because they’re all crazy.”

  Nick fixed him with a quizzical look.

  “Well, okay, yeah,” Bryan grumbled. “So it’s true. But she didn’t know that yet. I didn’t want her to think I think that way.”

  “You do, though, Bryan. You won’t date fae girls.”

  “But Sara’s not like most of them.”

  “Normally I’d expect a woman with a talent like hers to be three quarters batshit.”

  Bryan laughed. “I know!”

  “But I think you’re too judgmental about fae women. They’re not all crazy.” Nick continued to rifle through the papers as they talked. “So, what next?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know damn well what I mean, wolf. She’s lost her family, her home, all her friends, she’s in a strange city with new people, and she’s only twenty-two. You can’t string this girl along, play house for a few weeks and then move on to the next—”

  “That’s not what I’m doing!”

  “So what are you doing?”

  “I don’t know!” He was almost shouting at his Alpha now, but Nick just raised his eyebrows and didn’t say anything. Bryan, feeling restless and pinned down, got up to stretch his legs.

  “How long were you seeing her in Luxor?”

  “We went out three times.”

  “Were you fucking her then?”

  “No.”

  “But you’ve fucked her since you’ve been home.”

  “Yes.” He didn’t like hearing Nick talk about Sara like that, which sort of horrified him.

  “If this is easy sex with a hot chick who’s temporarily dependent on you, then you’re being an asshole and—”

  “That’s not what this is.” That’s really not what this is. Oh shit. God help me.

  “So, what? You’re in love?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Bryan?”

  “I don’t wanna be,” he said miserably.

  Nick proceeded to twist the knife by laughing at him. “Why are you acting like such a pussy?”

  Bryan knew he said it in jest—he was still laughing—but it stung. “That’s what TJ said.”

  “What? What is?”

  Flinging himself down on the couch next to Nick, he put his head back and stared up at the ceiling as he confessed, “The other night—the first night we were home. Sara started crying, so I called TJ for advice, and TJ called me a pussy.”

  “That’s my girl.” He was surprised at the pride and affection in his Alpha’s voice. Nick reached over and backhanded him in the chest. “So what if you’re in love with her? What’s so bad about that?”

  “She’s fae.”

  “For fuck’s sake, B, is that all it is? That’s the only thing holding you back? If she’s not crazy, what’s the big deal with her fae blood?”

  “We couldn’t have kids.”

  “Hmm. Yeah, there’s that. I mean, some doctors claim they’ve helped fae women get pregnant by wolves. I don’t know the numbers. But even if y’all can’t conceive, you could adopt.”

  “That’s true.” Werewolf babies were hard to place. Werewolf families didn’t often adopt, and human families, even those who wanted boys, didn’t want the responsibility of raising a wolf. “Can you imagine what my dad would say if I told him I was in love with a fae chick?”

  “I bet they’d like Sara. And I know your mother’s ready for you to settle down.”

  He groaned. “Shit. You’re right. No, I’m not telling them about this for a while.”

  Nick laughed again and sat up. “All right.” He pointed at the papers on the coffee table. “Let’s talk about all this.”

  “Come on down, Sara Mae, before I hurt her.”

  Somehow she made it down the stairs to the second floor landing, and then she saw him. He was standing in the entry hall on the first floor, an arm around TJ’s neck and a gun pointed at her head.

  “What are you doing, Wayne?” Sara’s mouth had gone dry. Her voice came out thin and scratchy.

  “I’m looking for you. Now get the fuck down here. Me and you’s going home.”

  “Okay. Okay, Wayne. I’m coming. Just please, don’t hurt her.”

  “Move!”

  Slowly and deliberately, she walked down the last flight, making no sudden movements lest Wayne get twitchy. He looked real close to the edge. TJ looked both furious and terrified.

  She needed a second, that was all. The gun in her purse was loaded. She just needed Wayne to take his eyes off her for a second so she could reach in, pop the safety and shoot the bastard.

  As Sara reached the bottom step, she put a hand out to her new friend, but Wayne flung TJ aside, propelling her into a wall.

  He spun back to Sara and ripped the purse off her shoulder. “You don’t need that. Come on.” He shoved her toward the door.

  Behind her, she heard footsteps on the hardwood floor. She turned to see TJ sprinting for the guest room.

  Wayne stopped, turned and fired. TJ went down with a shrill cry.

  Sara screamed. Wayne grabbed her by the hair, forcing her face up to his. “Shut your hole or I’ll shoot her again.”

  Biting her lip to keep from screaming, she stumbled behind him as he dragged her out to a battered blue Chevy. She offered no resistance when he shoved her into the front seat and cuffed her left wrist to the glove compartment handle.

  “You’re sure the police know about the Hedges?”

  “Yeah. I followed Wayne a few times when he met with the chief—name’s Rice—and he was making payoffs. Wayne’s not too bright, but he’s mean as hell and he’s got a ring of guys workin
g for him in Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas, maybe even Oklahoma. It’s way too big for the cops not to know anything.”

  “Damn.” Nick rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. “I had no idea there was that much money in meth.”

  “It’s huge in the boondocks. I think Wayne was running pharmaceuticals too.”

  “Okay. So if the cops in Luxor—”

  “There’s only two of them.”

  “Right. If the cops know the Feds are on to them, and the Feds threaten to prosecute, maybe the cops won’t try to protect Hedges.”

  “Right,” Bryan replied, “but I think Wayne’s dead.”

  Nick’s private line rang.

  “You need to get that?”

  “No. It’ll roll to Nancy. Yeah, I bet you’re right, Hedges probably—”

  “Nick!”

  Nancy’s scream sent both wolves flying off the couch and into the lobby. The receptionist’s hands shook as she held the phone out.

  “It’s TJ. She’s hurt.”

  Nick grabbed the receiver. “TJ?”

  On the other end, TJ gasped, struggling to speak. “Wayne— He—”

  Bryan’s head swam as he heard the gurgle in her voice. Chest wound? God, please, no.

  Nick had gone ashen. “TJ, where are you?”

  “Bryan’s. I—”

  “Okay. Okay, sweetheart, we’re on the way. Hang on!—I’m coming.” He glanced at the phone as he dropped the receiver. “Call 911 to your house!”

  Bryan dialed as they raced for the elevator.

  They were headed north on 59—right back to Godforsaken Luxor. Wayne hadn’t said a word since they’d left Bryan’s house. He drove with one bandaged hand on the steering wheel, and the other—the right one, the one closest to her—clutching the pistol atop the console between the seats.

  She hadn’t said anything either, too busy fighting panic and nausea, reliving the moment Wayne had fired and TJ had crumpled to the floor.

  Had she gotten TJ killed?

  At this point, she didn’t care if Wayne killed her. If he was taking her back to Luxor to turn her over to the European wolves, she’d rather be dead.

  She could feel her phone pressing against her thigh through her jacket pocket. She’d charged it just this morning, and her free hand itched to pull it out. Wayne would grab it from her, of course. What if it started ringing? Would Bryan be trying to call her? If TJ were dead, he wouldn’t know anything about what had happened, would he? What the hell could she do?

  Okay, drama queen, get a grip.

  “How’d you find me?”

  “The Russians told me where Keeton lived.”

  “How’d they know?”

  “What the fuck do I care? They told me to get you, so I did.”

  Someone had talked—maybe the guy Bryan called when he caught the wolves at Grandma’s house, maybe someone else. He’d said the investigation was riddled with leaks.

  “Wayne, do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  “Yeah, I’ve saved my goddamned life, that’s what I’ve done.”

  “No, Wayne. The woman you shot works for the Houston Alpha. Your life’s not worth spit now. Nick Wargman’s gonna kill you.”

  From the corner of her eye she saw him turn to her, and she caught an expression of shock on his face.

  “Shit, Sara,” he breathed in a strange, vaguely awestruck tone. “You’re running around with werewolves?”

  They raced to his place on foot, passing the ambulance as it weaved and wailed down Louisiana.

  Nick was first through the open front door, Bryan right behind him as he followed a trail of blood—Christ, that’s a lot of blood—into the downstairs guestroom.

  TJ lay on the floor next to the bedside table, the phone in her limp hand. The right side of her blouse was soaked with blood. More blood had pooled on the floor beneath her shoulder.

  Nick dropped to his knees and gathered her into his lap. “TJ? Baby, it’s me.”

  He brushed the hair from her face and moved his hand down to her shoulder, as if to probe the wound, but stopped. His hand hovered helplessly above her, his face twisted in agony because there was nothing he could do. The scent of his fear and rage filled the room. Bryan clenched his jaw and ground his teeth to keep from whimpering as Nick’s pheromones washed over him, pushing him to change.

  The ambulance pulled into the driveway. Bryan heard them unloading the crash cart.

  TJ’s voice was so faint no one but wolves could’ve heard her words. “Wayne…he took her. He…”

  “Shh, baby, don’t talk. The ambulance is here. You’ll be fine.” Nick looked up at Bryan. “It went in her shoulder. I think her lung’s collapsed. I can hear it in—”

  “I know. I hear it too.”

  Her face was pale and slick with sweat. As the EMTs lifted her from Nick’s arms and put her on the stretcher, she tried to reach for him. “Nick, don’t— I’m…”

  “I know, baby. I’m right here. I won’t leave.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his mouth. “I’m right behind the ambulance. You going to St. Joseph?” he asked one of the EMTs.

  “Yes, sir. You want to ride with her?”

  He swallowed and shook his head. “No. Not a good idea right now. I’ll follow you.”

  The EMT nodded as they rolled her into the ambulance and slammed the door.

  Bryan stood on the bottom stair, clutching the banister, his whole body racked with tension. He’d fight the change with everything he had, but between Nick’s panic over TJ and his own panic over Sara, he wasn’t sure he could stay two-footed much longer.

  He’d known Nick was close to his assistant, but he was still shocked at his Alpha’s reaction. Only the deepest trauma could force the change on a wolf as powerful as a Pack Alpha. Bryan smelled the change on Nick, saw him trembling with the force of resisting it as he bent over, hands on his knees, shuddering and gulping at air just like Bryan was doing.

  If Nick changed, Bryan would change. And Bryan needed to be in human form to go after Sara. The thought of her in the hands of those savages filled him with a crimson rage and a queasy terror at the same time.

  The two wolves said nothing as each battled his body for control. The small entryway filled with the sound of their rasping, labored breaths and the smell of their distress. The dogs in the neighboring condos began to howl as they picked up the scent of the werewolves’ pheromones. The smelly cacophony made his head ring till he thought his ears would bleed. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get a handle on—

  Suddenly the air in the room became lighter. The crushing pressure of involuntary change abruptly vanished.

  Now that his Alpha had beaten back the shift, Bryan could too.

  Nick straightened and held out his arms. “Come here.”

  He allowed Nick to pull him in for a tight embrace. Calmed and comforted by the touch, he was able to breathe freely again. Fifteen minutes had passed since they’d gotten the call. It felt like an hour.

  Nick released him. “Her phone.”

  “What?”

  “Sara’s phone was in her pocket.” He frowned. “But if she can’t answer, or Wayne takes it away—”

  “No! Fuck me, I-I wasn’t thinking! I’ve got GPS coverage!”

  His heart tried to thump out of his chest as he looked at his watch. When had he last seen her? Thirty minutes ago? Forty? How far had they gotten? What’s he done to her by now?

  He stabbed at the keys on his phone, cursing at the progress bar as the browser loaded, and then he was online, and he punched in the GPS site, and…

  “There!” he shouted, and the howling outside the condo grew louder. He stared at the blinking yellow dot like it was his own heartbeat. “They’re on 59 going north.”

  “He’s taking her back to Luxor,” Nick said.

  “I gotta go, I gotta—”

  Nick grabbed his arm as he headed for the door. He tried to pull away, but his Alpha’s fingers were an iron band around his biceps a
nd he couldn’t get loose. Nick’s face betrayed no sign of exertion as he held a two-hundred-fifty-pound werewolf in place with one hand and dialed his phone with the other.

  “I’m calling Taran,” Nick said as the phone rang. “We’ll call the Feds and tell them what’s going on. You’ll fly up there and beat Hedges to Luxor. Stop trying to get away from me, wolf, it’s pissing me off. Taran? Listen to me. Sara Hedges just got snatched by her uncle. He shot TJ.”

  Taran began shouting questions.

  “I don’t know!” Nick barked. “Call Lark. Tell her to get to St. Joseph’s. Then come pick us up here at Bryan’s condo.”

  “What’s so fucking funny? Answer me, goddamn it!”

  Wayne swatted her, the pistol grip striking her hard right behind the ear and knocking her head into the window. She struggled to catch her breath as stars danced behind her eyes.

  “Goddamn it, Sara—”

  “All right, all right! I can’t talk if you knock me out, can I? You want to know why I’m laughing?” Because if I don’t, I’ll lose my mind. Please, TJ, don’t be dead. “Because you’re a moron!”

  Wayne blinked, his tiny, watery blue eyes opening and shutting with a twitch that always made her itch to punch him.

  For the first time, she noticed how awful he looked. Besides the bandaged hand, he had bandages on all ten fingers, bruises on his forehead and cheek, a cut on his temple, and a sickly yellow cast to his face. And beyond that, he looked…scared. She’d seen Wayne Hedges enraged, petulant, resentful, frequently confused, but she’d never seen him scared.

  She wished she could enjoy the spectacle, but a scared Wayne was a dangerous Wayne.

  “You really don’t know?”

  “Don’t know what?” he yelled, fear and uncertainty seeping through his bluster.

  “Those guys—the Russians?” Actually, Bryan had said they were from the Czech Republic and Serbia and a couple other countries she was certain her uncle had never heard of. “They’re werewolves, Wayne. Just like Bryan.” And no wonder Bryan never heard Wayne discussing them.

  Now Wayne looked truly sick with fright, blanching beneath the blue and purple bruises. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. The wet, raspy sound of his breathing filled the car.