by Harte, Marie
Terror knotted her stomach. The last time she’d been this close to him, he’d assaulted her. A few slaps to her face and he’d ripped her blouse. Miles had intervened, and they’d fled. But there was no Miles to save her, and Dean needed her more than she needed him. Time to play it up for all she was worth.
Dean lay still, not daring to hope he’d seen the truth in her eyes. Had she been playing this entire time? That expression on her face when she’d seen him glaring at her, his heart in shreds, meant everything. That kernel of helplessness, that sadness, it was there. He’d seen it. He knew it existed…for him.
Her emotional distress had been buried under a pretense of shallowness and self-involvement. How had he missed it? Stacey would never consort with Hunters, not to save her own skin. But to save his?
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling every bump, bruise and gouge on his body. He was in no condition to fight, and the pride—who should have arrived by now—was nowhere in sight. Instead, Lex had come.
The big bastard smelled like death, a puffed up promise of torture and pain just waiting to happen. Dean wanted to tear him down to nothing but knew he wouldn’t manage to do more than kill himself quickly, not in his condition. Fear for Stacey made it hard to function, but he refused to let Lex know of his terror.
“This is the prick we’ve been worried about?” he rasped and got to his feet.
Lex turned to face him, a pinch of annoyance on his face. “Dean Chastell?”
Jeremy answered. “Yep.”
“The one who spent some time with my female?”
Dean let out a low growl and answered, “The one who fucked her, yeah.” He took a swaggering step forward. A mistake, because it was all he could do not to fall on his face. Not the image he wanted to project while trying to appear Lex’s match.
The asshole was as big as Dean, and the thought of him pawing at a scared Stacey sent him into a rage, which lent him the strength to stand without falling flat on his face.
Stacey glared at him, and he could finally see the worry in her face, which didn’t help his confidence any. To the dickhead, she said, “Look, Lex, if you want me, I’ll—”
Dean interrupted before she could sacrifice herself. “Talking here, sweet cheeks. Let the big boys play. You’ll have your turn.”
“Sweet cheeks?” She fumed.
He much preferred her annoyed to scared. But even better, he’d drawn Lex’s attention.
“This is the raggedy thing you fucked?” He laughed, and his goons laughed with him. But the lead Hunter didn’t smile. That was the one to watch throughout this. Though he might not be friendly with Lex, he definitely had his own agenda, and it wouldn’t pay to underestimate him. Dean wanted Stacey away from Lex and Ted, but the woman wasn’t moving an inch.
He took a few steps, feeling better about himself when the hurt numbed and he moved without impedance. “Instead of hiding behind everyone else, including a female,” Dean added with a sneer, “why don’t you face me right here, right now?” From what he’d heard about the guy, Lex was not only a bully, but a chauvinist. He’d take offense at the claim that he needed a woman to protect him. Or so Dean hoped.
Stacey opened her mouth to retort but Dean silenced her with a roar.
Then Lex responded, venom dripping from every word. “You Chastell pricks never learn. You think because you killed my brother, I’m afraid of you?” He snorted. “Ronnie was weak. He was blood, but barely. I owe you for his death, and I’ll make you pay. I don’t hide behind anyone.”
“Funny coming from a guy who sent cats and Hunters to ambush two cats, one of them a girl.”
When Stacey scowled at him, he took precious energy to send her, “Shut up and let me distract him. When he’s on me, make a break for it. But watch Ted and the other Hunters. Something’s not right with them. They’re not here to help Lex.”
“I know that, you idiot. I’m trying to protect you. It’s obvious you can barely stand.”
“Thanks for the confidence, sugar lips.”
She choked on a burst of hilarity. Or was that incredulity? He wasn’t sure which. Because Lex launched himself at him, in his human form.
Lex tackled him and punched him in the nose, which hurt, and was also embarrassing. Dean couldn’t see straight, though his feline skeletal system could normally take a beating. Then again, he’d had a huge one already.
A flash of light signaled Lex’s change into his animal spirit.
“You are such an idiot,” Stacey spat.
He heard shuffled movement, and then Ted confused Dean even more when he said, “No, don’t. Let’s wait and see how this pans out. I’m enjoying this.”
He blinked hard to clear his vision, not sure he’d succeeded when he saw two cats standing in front of him where there should only have been Lex. And then the haze retreated and her smell hit him. Stacey had shifted, and the stubborn female had just inserted herself between him and Lex. Shit.
Lex hissed and screamed, the high pitch of his warning more jarring than irritating. He sounded as annoyed as Dean felt. Not good. “Well, hotshot? Let’s go. Or do you need a woman’s help to stand?”
“That would help, actually.” Dean let her assist him to his feet and panted heavily while he sought the strength to keep himself upright. “Let’s get to it.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Lex snapped his tail. His ears went flat against his head and he bared his teeth. “I could rip your throat out in one lunge. But I don’t think I’m ready for you to die yet. I want you to watch while I mount my pretty pussy right in front of you, you weak bastard.”
Dean snorted. “Oh sure. Like she’ll let you. You tried that once and got slapped down for it, didn’t you?”
Lex reached for him but Stacey nudged Dean out of the way and struck back with a claw to his face.
Lex didn’t seem to like that much. Not from what Dean could see from his position lying on his side once more. Fuck, but his legs just didn’t want to hold him.
“Get up, damn it.” Stacey didn’t seem any more pleased with him. “I can’t take him by myself.”
“As if I’d let you.” I won’t let her. I can’t. I’ll never convince her to stay with me if I’m dead, he thought, a touch hysterical. Digging deeper than he ever had before, Dean forced himself to his feet and launched his tired-ass body at Lex. He took the big cat down, absorbing the claws and bites while buffering Stacey from his threat. But his girl wasn’t content to let him have all the fun.
While he used his dead weight to keep Lex occupied, she did massive damage. The feline ripped into Lex, tearing off an ear and gouging his throat while Dean locked his jaws around Lex’s shoulder to pin him down. The fucker wriggled like a worm on a hook, but Dean refused to let go. Even when blackness started to overtake him once more, he held on, unwilling to leave Stacey alone.
“Hold on, Dean,” she shouted between feints at Lex.
Lex, the bastard, had a lot of blood in him. Though much of it pooled beneath them, he had enough left pumping through his veins to toss Dean into the legs of several cats waiting on the sidelines.
“Stacey. Run,” he managed and clamped onto the leg joint nearest him. He recognized Jeremy’s yowl and ground his teeth deeper. This fucker had betrayed them. He would die if it was the last thing Dean did. Anything to save the woman he planned on mating if he lived through this. Hell, if she lived through this. She’d have to save herself. He just prayed she really was as self-sufficient as she’d always claimed to be.
Stacey walled off her panic at seeing Dean overwhelmed. He’d taken such a beating, and all because of her. Well, that and his smart mouth. But she didn’t intend to let his hard work go to waste. Concentrating on ending Lex once and for all, she snarled as she circled him.
He bled profusely, leaving a slippery mess on the floor beneath him. That she’d use to her advantage. She wasn’t sure why the Hunters hadn’t stepped forward. Lex’s cats had been held back by a few of Ted’s guys. Wi
th guns trained on them, the felines knew better than to disobey. But what did they expect working alongside Hunters? Had the pride really expected Ted and his ilk to play nicely?
“Fifty says the female takes him,” Ted offered.
“I’ll take that bet,” another of them said with a laugh.
A few of the other Hunters chimed in, and while she was glad to provide them some entertainment, she couldn’t wait to be done with Lex…so she could chew on the human assholes.
“You bitch.” Lex leapt at her but she was too fast. She rocked back and countered with a rake of claws down his chest, making the wound there even bigger.
“That’s right. A prime, grade-A bitch who’s going to make sure you never rule anyone again.” She hissed as he knocked her down. He sliced into her belly but she twisted away, using his fading strength against him.
Though weakened, he was still a good hundred pounds heavier than her, even in cat form. And he had a mean streak she’d never managed, not on a good day. But after seeing what he’d done to Dean, she had every intention of killing Lex and not batting an eye over it.
A sudden roar behind her made her smile. She heard more cats, a few wolves, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the growling of a fox. Good. They could take care of the Hunters while she finished Lex.
She just prayed Dean would make it. If the bastard died on her before she could yell at him for turning macho at the worse possible moment, she’d kill him herself.
Monty didn’t know what he’d expected, but Dean Chastell covered in blood and not moving had to be the worst of it. He raced past the Hunters and spitting felines, what few of them there were, and darted to Dean’s side. To his right, Stacey and another cat, presumably Lex, fought. But she seemed to be winning, and damn it all, Dean looked close to death.
“S-save her,” Dean slurred. He’d lost a lot of blood, but his heartbeat sounded strong enough.
Thank God.
“Holy shit. I knew I’d find you again if I looked long enough.”
Monty froze. He knew that voice—one that had haunted his dreams and perpetuated his nightmares for years.
He turned and saw Ted Norris, the man who’d first captured him and introduced him to what Hunters were all about, standing and smiling with an evil glee that turned the animal in Monty inside-out. Something about Ted wasn’t normal, even for a Hunter. He had power, and it made Monty’s wolf want to run away and fight all at the same time. Most humans couldn’t tell one wolf from another. But Ted had always known him. The Pits, where Hunters forced Ac-taw to fight one another or die, had been a brutal mess of fur, fangs and claws. Yet Ted had kept track of Monty, his personal pet, no matter where Monty went or what he did.
Monty growled and took a step toward him, wanting to but not able to leave Dean, not with the mess of Hunters and rogues still fighting. Monty didn’t know who was who, and though he’d brought a few of Quince’s cats with him for backup, he didn’t trust them. He only trusted pride, and there were few of them as it was.
“We have unfinished business, wolf.” Ted would have lunged when Burke knocked into him and bit down hard.
From Monty’s vantage point, it looked as if Burke had a hunk of the man’s shoulder. But then Ted screamed and twisted, and Monty saw the skin of his cheek flapping in the wind.
“Outstanding hit, Burke.” He barked his enthusiasm and then growled again, wanting nothing more than to join his buddy. Yet a part of him whimpered. That part Ted had scarred came limping back to life, terror like a bitter taste in his mouth. And Monty hated himself for it.
Ted screamed and struck at Burke again and again. But Burke continued to dig at him. The man should have been dead by now, but of course he wasn’t. He somehow managed to snake his weapon between them.
Monty let out a stream of warning barks. “Burke, look out!”
Ted smacked Burke in the temple with the butt of his rifle. Then he shoved Burke away from him with supernatural strength. Before he could shoot, one of his buddies dragged him back, just as a cat leapt and missed him. Ted shot the cat and raced away, one hand held to his face. But before he escaped the lodge, he looked back over his shoulder.
“I’ll find you again, boy. See if I don’t.”
Monty growled, caught between a fine sweat of terror and an overwhelming need to kill. He shook from the strain before realizing the danger had yet to pass. Though his reinforcements had overtaken the Hunters and rogue cats, Stacey still battled Lex in the center of the room.
He shook himself free of the past, of the memories of cages and torture and blood, and stepped forward. The friggn’ cat will kill me if she’s hurt. Hell, he could smell Stacey’s bonding scent clearly on his friend. Yet he suddenly noticed none of the others stepping forward to help her out. Instead they watched and waited, taking in a show.
Ty sat on his haunches while Grady grinned and lay down, his wrists crossed.
“I give her another swat to the head and he’s down,” Grady said.
“Nah. The bastard is big. I’m thinking it’ll take more than that. She hits like a girl.” Ty’s whiskers twitched with laughter, especially when Stacey hissed at him.
Then she yowled and went for Lex’s jugular.
Monty shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d seen cats kill. He lived with the pride. But her ferocity impressed him because she gave Lex no quarter. She didn’t flinch when the bigger cat flailed and pierced her skin. She didn’t stop pulling at the bastard’s throat. And when Lex went limp, she gave a final crunch, breaking his windpipe before she dropped him and walked over to Dean.
“Holy shit. Now I’m in love.” Monty wagged his tail, glad she didn’t look too worn down. A little bloody and beaten up, but nothing that wouldn’t heal.
With a disdainful sniff, she glanced at Dean. “Will he live?”
“Do you care?” He knew damn well she did. He could see the anxiety bristling her fur.
Yet she responded with a calm she had to be far from feeling. “I suppose. I wouldn’t want Burke or Rachel to be too upset if he dies.”
“Yeah. Right. He’ll live.” He frowned down at Dean. “I think.”
Stacey walked between him and Dean and nudged Monty out of the way. Then she plastered herself to Dean’s side and didn’t move. “Go get him help.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Monty loped to Burke, who had already shifted and was calling in a medical team. In minutes the raptors would appear to lend a hand.
They watched while Stacey licked Dean’s wounds, her paw keeping him steady while she tended him.
“Oh hell. That looks mighty possessive.” Burke made a face at the pair, but Monty could tell his friend was pleased.
He shifted back and joined Grady and Ty who stood by the far wall, watching Joel. “Hate to tell you boys, but I smell a mating. I think I’m owed some money.” He noticed Grady’s annoyance, which made his win even sweeter.
“Not from me you don’t.” Ty grinned. “I hedged my bets. I’ll be collecting from Joel as soon as he lets go of those two.”
They watched Joel, still in his massive bear form, carting two bloodied Hunter carcasses toward the growing pile in the middle of the room.
Ty cleared his throat. “I, ah, think I’ll talk to him later about my winnings.”
Grady snickered. “Smart man.”
“Shut up.”
Monty gave his friends an update on what he knew about this mess and watched Burke check over his brother. The cat seemed satisfied his brother would live, from the relief on his face. He stepped aside and motioned for Monty to join him.
Monty crossed to his pride leader. Christ, it sounded so weird to think of himself—a wolf—belonging to a pack of cats. “Burke?”
“You okay?”
Sensing the direction of the conversation, Monty closed up, burying his fear, his confusion and his frustration under an unassuming smile. “Sure. Why are you asking?”
“Something passed between you and that Hunter.” Burke scowled as he glanced around h
im. “I think the fucker got away.”
For now. “We’ll catch him.”
“Yeah, well, my bet is he’s going to be the order’s new priority. A Hunting party this close to Cougar Falls? Not good, wolf. Not at all.”
Monty didn’t like it either. His thoughts immediately went to Sophie. The woman was skittish enough around their own kind, new to being Ac-taw. If she fell in with Hunters, she might never recover. Hell, he still hadn’t.
“Monty?” Burke put a hand on his arm, instinctively knowing the wolf needed to be touched.
“You’re a good pride leader,” Monty said, gruff with sincerity.
“I know.”
Monty snorted. “And way too arrogant for a pussy.”
“That’s Boss Pussy to you, mange-boy.”
Monty sneered and flipped him the bird. They bantered, engaging Grady, the bear and the fox as well. But though he pretended all was well, he knew the nightmares would return, and they’d plague him until he finally ended this. Until he’d mounted Ted Norris’s fucking head to his wall.
Chapter Nine
Three days later, Dean still couldn’t believe it. Stacey had defeated Lex Gates. And she’d been vicious about it. She’d impressed the pride, Quince’s cats and everyone around town—or so he’d been told by Grady, who added to tales about her bravado with every visit to the sickroom Dean had been forbidden to leave.
With a wince, he dragged his legs over the side of the bed. Nurse Ratched, as Ty called the bird who’d healed the fox from his own brush with Hunters, had done her best to stitch Dean up. But even she’d needed help and called in crotchety old Doc Stanley, whose sage advice of rest and more rest Dean could have done without. He didn’t need to sleep, he needed Stacey’s warm thighs and sweet kisses to heal him. Unfortunately the princess needed to tend to her fans instead of the man who’d nearly died trying to save her sexy ass.
His brothers didn’t seem too worried about him either, which peeved him more than a little. Neither of them had offered him any sympathy. Instead they stuck him with Rachel and Julia—torture at best. The mothers-to-be had been practicing all that nurturing crap on him, which wouldn’t have been too bad if that had involved soft caresses, comments about his bravery and red meat. But they insisted on chastising him for nearly getting himself killed in between force-feeding him broth and vegetables. Christ, if they kept it up, his cat might shrivel up and die.