Beast Out Of Hell

by Camilla Ochlan

  Silk, satin, leather and lace. That's my Jamie.

  How she loved to lounge on her red satin comforter trimmed with black roses. And Reaper loved to watch her. He'd watched her last night. This morning — her long legs tangled between the crimson sheets as he'd held her in his arms.

  But now the room was spotless. There was no trace of Reaper's presence. No hint that he'd spent the night.

  Jamie knows her Granny.

  Reaper knew Granny understood his and Jamie's relationship. Knew they were mates and all that that meant. And she'd accepted it. Accepted him. Still, it wouldn't be a smart move to thrust their sex life in Granny's face.

  "Granny'd get me fixed if she thought I was shacking up with her granddaughter." Reaper chuckled nervously to himself.

  The lingering smell of cold coffee and burnt scrambled eggs drew Reaper back into the living room.

  "Babe?" he called out. No one answered.

  He sniffed the air.

  Strawberry shampoo. Dog. Granny's stinky perfume and…Vomit?

  Reaper walked quickly through the dining room and into the kitchen. An almost full pot of coffee had been left on the breakfast table next to a plate of half-eaten eggs. And a charred frying pan had been dumped in the sink — bits of rank throw up stuck to the sides.

  "Ack." Reaper grimaced.

  Is Jamie sick?

  He leaned over the messy sink and poked his head through the open kitchen window. "Jamie?" he called out again. "You here? You okay, babe?"

  Reaper caught a glimpse of a shimmering white Beast bounding out of the woods on all fours.

  "Oh, good," he blew out in relief as he watched his mate zigzag through the tall grassy field — eyes blazing like amber firelight.

  So hot!

  In her Beast form, Jamie was mesmerizing. Her speed. Her strength. She radiated joy. Freedom. Everything Reaper desired.

  And she's mine.

  Reaper shook off the urge to turn himself and join his mate. He scrambled outside through the sliding glass door.

  "Jamie!" he shouted and hopped off the back deck, sprinting full tilt toward her.

  Jamie reared up to her full height, a towering goddess gleaming in the sunlight. She scanned the ranch and spotted Reaper. Her muzzle spread into a wolfy grin as she greeted him with a shake of her glossy white mane.

  "We gotta go!" Reaper called out.

  Jamie cocked her head and howled, "Why?"

  "Just come on!" Reaper commanded.

  Jamie's ears pulled back, and her hackles flared. Her wolfy grin turned into a menacing fang-filled scowl. She stormed toward Reaper in a few long strides and halted mere feet away.

  Shit. She's pissed. We don't have time…

  Jamie grunted out a low annoyed bark.

  "I'm sorry, babe," Reaper backpedaled. "Things are really bad…Please, we need to go…like now."

  Jamie's ears snapped up, and her slender muscles relaxed. Her gaze roamed over Reaper's body, resting on his leather vest. Her furred claws transformed effortlessly into soft human hands as she slowly reached out to touch him.

  "VP?" she whispered. "When?"

  "A few hours ago." Reaper raked a hand through his hair, pulling out a few dark blond strands in the process.

  "What does this mean?" she asked, her voice cracking.

  "It means Zeke will never let me go," Reaper bit out through gritted teeth. "That's why we gotta run."

  "But Granny!" Jamie burst out in tears.

  "Baby…" Reaper rushed to his mate, wrapping his arms around her.

  She feels different.

  Reaper tilted Jamie's face up and took a closer look at his mate. Her skin appeared more pale than usual, and her normally lean hard muscles seemed thinner, almost frail.

  She's lost weight. How'd I miss that?

  "What's going on?" Reaper held Jamie's face between his hands. "Are you sick? But you smell like deer. Did you hunt?

  "No…Yes… I'm fine…" Jamie pulled away. "I just…"

  "Just what?"

  "I just wanted some meat is all…" She dabbed her tear-streaked cheek with her palm.

  "Babe, you should've waited," Reaper said. "I'd have gone with—"

  "I don't need you to hunt for me!" Jamie hissed.

  "Okay," Reaper held up his hand. "I only meant with Zeke back, it's not safe…"

  "I…" Jamie whirled away from him, hugging herself tight.

  "You what?" Reaper asked roughly, torn between wanting to comfort his mate and shake some sense into her.

  "I can't leave Granny," Jaime whispered through quiet sobs. "Not now…"

  "Why?" Reaper asked more softly. "Is Granny okay?" He placed a hand on her quivering shoulder.

  What am I missing?

  Jamie bit her bottom lip and stared down at the ground.

  What's she not telling me?

  "You said it yourself…" Jamie looked up at Reaper. "It's not safe." She squared her shoulders and set her jaw. "I won't leave Granny."

  "We have—" Reaper began.

  "We have to wait," she cut him off.

  "But, babe—"

  "No." Jamie's eyes flashed hot amber. "I won't leave her."

  "Goddamn it!" Reaper yelled, feeling like a spinning top being flung across a burning table. "Don't you understand? If we wait, he'll find me. Find you!"

  "Don't talk to me like that!" Jamie pushed past Reaper and headed for the house.

  Reaper grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Jamie…Please…I'm sorry…"

  Whatever you want. Whatever you need. I'll do…No matter what.

  Jamie blew out a weary sigh. "Granny will be home soon."

  Reaper slid his hand down Jamie's arm and weaved his fingers through hers.

  "We'll figure it out. I promise," she said, squeezing his hand. "Besides…" She gave him her sexy grin and pulled him close. "Granny's gonna get The Werewolf Whisperer to help us."

  Reaper rolled his eyes. "What's she gonna do? Tell Zeke to sit?"

  "Granny says she's got skills," Jamie purred and dragged one of her long nails down Reaper's chest; a shiver ran up his spine.

  "Yeah, I saw that video too," Reaper huffed. "Splattered old Werebeast Santa's brains all over the place."

  "And she'll splatter Zeke's brains too." Jamie tugged Reaper's Hell Hound cut and white tee off. She ran her hands down his stomach.

  "Seems all she can do is shoot our kind." Reaper nuzzled Jamie's neck as he traced her curves with his fingertips.

  Jamie quivered.

  "Granny wouldn't bring Lucy Lowell here to hurt us," she moaned.

  "Doesn't mean we should trust her." Reaper ran a hand up Jamie's tank top and brushed his thumb across her nipple.

  Jamie sucked in a quick breath.

  "I trust Granny," she sighed and pressed her pelvis against the hard bulge in Reaper's jeans.

  He groaned and gripped Jamie's hips.

  She giggled. "So, we wait?"

  "We wait."

  Jamie's eyes sparked playfully as she unzipped his fly and yanked his pants down by the belt loops. "Wouldn't want you to shred another pair of jeans."

  "Not all of us can control the shift like you." Reaper hoisted her mini skirt up.

  Jamie stopped his hand.

  "You know…" she crooned and lightly scraped a razor-sharp claw across Reaper's blazing wolf skull tattoo. "We've never done it doggy style."

  Reaper snarled, his shift coming on faster and stronger that it ever had.

  "Girl," he growled low. "You're gonna be the death of me."

  "A little death is good," she replied with a giggle-growl of her own and pulled him down onto the soft green grass.

  Chapter 7

  Broglie

  Granny's Ranch

  Right now

  Xochitl stabbed at the last few crumbs of her apple pie with her finger, tensely waiting for Lucy and Granny to speak. Neither woman had said one word to each other s
ince the fiasco with Jamie and the Hell Hounds. Lucy just stared at the half-finished pot of coffee while Granny fussed around the kitchen as if she were running a diner, doling out pie, wiping down counters and washing dishes.

  Granny's gun sat unholstered next to the microwave.

  Did Jamie fire Clint six times or only five? In all the excitement, I kinda lost track myself.

  Xochitl chuckled to herself.

  She topped off her coffee, then mechanically set the pot in the center of the Formica table. She leaned back in her chair and stared up at the strip of pink rose wallpaper lining the top of the whitewashed, shiplap-panel walls.

  Didn't take Granny for the flowery type.

  Xochi's gaze drifted from the white traditional cabinetry, past the lace-trimmed window treatment and down to the farmhouse sink.

  It's got a very country living vibe. Not rustic log cabin like the rest of the house. Must be an addition. Wonder how long Granny's lived here?...¡Híjole! We don't have time for this. We need a plan…And we need the truth.

  Xochitl pushed her plate to the side.

  "So, Granny…" Xochi slurped up a quick sip of her coffee.

  Damn, that's good.

  "Now that you've got us agreeing to commit a felony," she continued. "How do you propose we get Jamie and Reaper outta here?"

  "After we find the kid," Lucy added. "I…screwed up."

  "No." Xochi shook her head. "Reaper running off was not your fault. That's all on Sleeping Werebeast over there." She flicked her chin behind her toward the living room.

  Still out cold on the pleather sofa, Jamie had curled up in a tight ball under a throw blanket. Her shoulders rose and fell rhythmically to the high-pitched murmurs she squeaked out.

  "Don't put this all on Jamie," Granny hissed, fixed on the dishes in the sink. "She's just a girl."

  "No, she's not." Lucy swiveled around in her seat and stared at Granny. "She's a Werebeast."

  "How often does Jamie turn?" Xochitl drilled.

  Granny dropped the frying pan she'd been washing with a clank.

  "So, a lot then." Xochi cocked an eyebrow at Lucy.

  Lucy ran her hand through her short copper-red hair.

  "Why does that even matter?" The old woman whirled around and placed her soapy hands on her hips.

  "It matters a lot, actually," Lucy said. "Werebeasts aren’t like Hounds and Ferals—"

  "Well, no shit!" Granny snatched a pink hand towel off the kitchen counter. "Pardon my French."

  Lucy gripped the edge of her chair.

  This whole mess has really gotten to Lucy. Or maybe it's the endless months on the road. Always more Afflicted. Always more to help…to kill.

  Xochitl shook off the last thought.

  "What Lucy means to say—" she cut in.

  "That's okay, Xoch." Lucy held up her hand, measured calm in her voice. "I got this."

  Xochitl nodded, confident Lucy was back in control.

  "Please, Granny…" Lucy gestured to the chair opposite her. She waited for the old woman to take a seat, and then poured them both another cup of coffee.

  Now she's back in her element.

  "Like I was saying," Lucy continued. "Unlike Hounds and Ferals whose appearance is unmistakable, Werebeasts are…for lack of a better term…disguised. Hidden. Rarely are there characteristics that tell me if Mr. Smith is a Beast or not. Maybe I'll get a flash of the eyes…like I did with Reaper. But most of the time I don't…By then it's too late."

  "Too late?" Granny's voice was biting.

  "Yeah," Xochitl said. "You saw how fast Santa turned. There was no time. We were all in danger."

  "And," Lucy added. "Because of that, we did what we had to do…"

  Lucy's words hovered over them like a thick eerie fog.

  "But, my Jamie…" Granny moaned out a sob, tears spilling from her eyes. "She's never hurt anyone…"

  "So far," Lucy said, matter-of-fact.

  "Luce." Xochitl handed Granny a napkin.

  "She'd never…" The old woman dabbed at her eyes and cheeks.

  Xochi's heart broke for Granny. She knew all too well what Granny was going through. She'd gone through it herself. She'd watched her baby brother, Miguel, tortured into turning. Watched him charge at her. Felt his jaws clamp down on her shoulder and arm like a steel vice.

  Xochitl involuntarily brushed her hand over the scar tissue on her neck and glanced at the La Güera design tattooed across the bite marks on her arm.

  Lucy puffed out a weary breath and stretched and twisted her wrists encased by her leather bracers.

  We both have our scars.

  "Look," Lucy said softly. "I'm sure Jamie would never want to hurt anyone. But there's no guarantee she won't. Werebeasts can't control themselves."

  "But Jamie isn't like that. She's always been in control." Granny blew her nose in her napkin.

  Xochitl shot a confused look at Lucy, a flurry of thoughts whirling in her mind.

  Control? Is that even possible for a Were?...Miguel can barely hang on when he's angry…Or maybe that's because of me…But what if he can?…Stop it, Xochitl. Uncle Vern or Lefty would've said something if…

  Lucy shook her head and shrugged as if to say, "Best not to hope."

  "Well…" Xochi blew out a resigned sigh. "Maybe now. But the more Weres change, the harder it is for them to return to human form. I know…My brother is a Werebeast...And he tried to kill me…"

  Granny looked up at Xochitl, dread in her eyes.

  "It was awful," Lucy mumbled as if she were speaking to herself.

  Xochitl flinched. She'd never heard her friend speak about that day in Memo Morales' warehouse. Xochi had few recollections herself — just the raging amber glow of Miguel's eyes and the searing pain of his fangs ripping into her flesh. To hear Lucy tell the tale sent chills up Xochitl's spine. She scooted closer to the table.

  "All the blood…the smell…" Lucy continued; her face twisted in a pained scowl. "And you…" She looked at Xochitl. "I thought for sure…"

  "I know." Xochitl gave Lucy a tight smile.

  Lucy cleared her throat and took a gulp of coffee.

  "What happened to your brother?" Granny asked Xochitl quietly.

  "The Catchers took him—"

  "Oh, God!" Granny shot up from her seat faster than Xochi thought possible.

  "Now, wait, Granny." Xochi stood and steadied the old woman. "Look at me."

  Granny met Xochitl's gaze.

  The old woman was slightly taller than Xochitl, but far thinner. And though she felt as if she might break in Xochi's grip, her build suggested that she had been more robust in her younger years.

  "That's not gonna happen to Jamie," Xochi continued.

  "But your brother…"

  "I got my Miguel back," Xochitl said. "Long story…But he's safe now."

  Lucy handed Granny her cane. "And Jamie will be safe. I promise."

  Granny nodded.

  "Good," Xochi and Lucy said together.

  Xochitl plopped down in her chair, all the energy drained out of her.

  "But…" Lucy said abruptly, placing her palms on the table. "We're still left with how to get Jamie and Reaper to Canada."

  "Well…" Granny hobbled across the kitchen to the stove and picked up the pie tin. She offered the remaining pieces to Xochitl and Lucy.

  Xochi waved off the pie. But Lucy eagerly took the tin back to the table and dug in.

  ¡Híjole! I thought I packed it away.

  Granny chuckled.

  "Anyway." Granny leaned against the kitchen counter. "I do have a contact at the California Oregon border. Fish and Game. She could get them across…For the right price."

  "That'd work." Xochitl perked up. "Should be cake, once they're out of California…If they move fast. Stay out of towns and off the main roads. Canada hasn't closed its borders yet…"

  "True," Lucy smooshed out through a mouthful of pie. "It could work.
That's if we can get Reaper back." She put down her fork and pushed the empty pie tin to the side.

  Damn! She ate that fucker fast!

  Xochi pried her eyes from the oversized pie pan.

  "We'd have to take on the Hell Hounds." She unconsciously twirled her turquois ring around her finger. "Not gonna be easy…Maybe if we take them by surprise…"

  "Yeah." Lucy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "But is it worth it? Getting Reaper…"

  "What do you mean?" Granny's voice rose in pitch. "Leave him?"

  "Luce?" Xochitl's eyes ping-ponged from her friend to Granny and back again.

  Leave one of our own behind? I don't know if I can…

  "Xoch, taking on the Hell Hounds is risky," Lucy replied, her tone measured. "How many do you think we can take out by ourselves before—"

  "But Jamie…" Granny cut Lucy off. The old woman's shoulders slumped. "I know what it's like to lose someone…young…" She turned away and looked out the kitchen window. "I can't put my girl through that…I won't."

  "Granny." Lucy stood and took a hesitant step toward Granny but stopped herself from going further. "Ask yourself what's more important. We can get Jamie to the Oregon border. No problem. But if we go after Reaper, there's a strong chance none of us get out."

  ¡Jódame! We're gonna leave Reaper.

  "She's right," Xochitl said, casting her eyes to the linoleum floor.

  "It'll break her—" Granny started.

  Flustered howling erupted from the barn.

  Xochitl leapt to her feet.

  Lucy's eyes went wide.

  The two women raced out of the kitchen and into the living room. Jamie's throw blanket was clumped in a heap on the sofa and the front door was wide open.

  "Fuck!" Lucy slapped at her thigh. "She's gone!"

  "¡Híjole!"

  "Fool girl!" Granny shuffled in through the dining room. "I know just where she's going."

  "To Reaper," Xochi and Lucy said in unison.

  "Looks like we're taking on the Hell Hounds." Lucy's hand went to the Beretta holstered at her hip.

  We need backup.

  "Granny," Xochitl said, a plan forming in her mind. "Get on the horn. Get your neighborhood watch up and running."

  "Yes!" Granny stomped her cane on the hardwood. "Good idea."

  Lucy shot Xochi a confused look as she slapped her Beretta mag in place and chambered a round.