"That's right Wellborn. Do as exactly as I say and your girlfriend lives."
"Wife," Derrick corrected automatically.
Wolfe paused a moment. Derrick could almost hear him grin on the other end. "Wife," he repeated. "Even better."
***
Kristin wished she hadn't gotten hungry during the night. More than anything else at this moment, she wished she'd just gone back to sleep instead of downstairs for a snack. There was a fully stocked mini fridge in their room. Why hadn't she just gotten something from there? Her wrists burned as she tried freeing them from the ropes once again. It had only been a couple hours and her hands were already going numb.
"I have to pee," she called from the closet where she lay squinched up like a bug. The door opened and a man she didn't recognize stared down at her. He placed a bowl on the floor and shut the door again. "Are you serious?" she yelled.
She had no idea where she was. She barely remembered anything after bumping into Randy Wolfe. She'd thought it was a funny coincidence that he was in Vegas at the same time they were, until he'd pulled a gun on her and made her follow him to a limo waiting outside. She thought it was hilarious being abducted by a superstar in a limo, until the man inside the limo hit her from behind when she turned her head, and everything went black. She woke up tied up in this closet. She only knew it was a closet because there were clothes hanging in it.
"Hey!" she screamed again. "I'm not peeing in a fucking salad bowl!"
The door opened again, only this time the man who opened it had a bat. Kristin felt it collide with her head, and then she felt nothing else for several hours.
***
Derrick sat in the locker room, his head in his hands. His palms were sweating. He thought he was gonna puke again. Coach had been waiting to pounce on him for going to Vegas the night before a game, but when Derrick had finally arrived at the stadium he'd looked so bad, Coach had said nothing. Wolfe had sent Derrick a picture of Kristin, her hands tied, her face bloodied. The room spun as someone slapped his back to congratulate him again on his wedding. He was going to kill the fucker. Painfully. He put his head deeper between his knees and resisted the urge to shift that always tried to overtake him under times of great stress. Now was not the time. He had to think.
Let him have it. Wolfe could have the record. Derrick didn't care. All he cared about was getting Kristin back. If that meant he had to fake an injury and pull himself from the game for the rest of the season, so be it. Nothing was more important than saving her. Then he’d kill Randy Wolfe.
"You alright Derrick?" Tate asked, coming up beside him. His arm was still in a sling, but his depression had lessened.
"Fine," Derrick mumbled.
"You don't look so fine."
Bolero yelled from the back, "Didn't you hear? He got married last night? He'll never be fine again." The team cackled and Derrick put his hands over his ears.
Tate watched him carefully. "Where's Kristin?" he asked.
Derrick shook his head. Randy hadn't told him what to say when someone asked about her. "Out," was all he could think of.
"Out? What does that mean?" Tate laughed.
Derrick looked at him and Tate jumped back. His eyes were red and glowing a horrible black color that made him look like he belonged in a hospital bed.
"Come on guys. It's game time," Coach yelled. Derrick put his helmet on before anyone else could see his face and followed the others onto the field.
***
Tate couldn't believe how badly they were doing. The first quarter was just ending, and the Peregrines were down by 21. To nothing. Derek hadn't made it five yards across the field. Every time he moved he seemed weighted down with invisible sandbags. Coach was yelling at him on the sidelines. Tate wondered if he should say something to Coach. Derrick had looked more than a little sick before the game started. He’d looked like death.
Maybe if I get Kristin on the phone it would help. He couldn't believe she wasn't here. She was one of the few women he'd met that had a true love of sports. Derrick was lucky to have her, she was a pretty awesome lady.
Tate watched Coach scream some more at Derrick—he hadn't stopped screaming since yesterday when Derrick had left that message saying he was in Vegas. Tate finally felt bad enough for Derrick that he went down to the locker room to get his phone and track down Kristin. Only problem was, Tate didn't have Kristin's number. Derrick's locker was open and his phone was unlocked, sitting on the shelf inside. He opened it up and saw a new text message. Maybe it's her. Maybe they'd had a fight or something and she was texting now to say she was on her way.
He opened the message and almost dropped the phone. It was a picture of Kristin. Her face was a mass of bruises. Blood pooled around her nostrils. Someone held her head up by her hair, a picture of a Greek sailboat on the wall behind her unconscious head.
The message read: Try harder. We don't want people to think you're throwing the game, idiot.
Tate replaced the phone in Derrick's locker. He recognized the background in the shot. Son of a bitch. He'd seen that painting on the news recently when Randy Wolfe had bought it at auction.
Chapter 14
Halftime had just started. Coach was pulling Derrick into his office, screaming at him again. Tate dodged past everyone and yanked Derrick right out of Coach's path of attack, much to his dismay. Tate heard Coach screaming at him now as he ushered Derrick down the hall and to a semi-quiet corner.
"What—"Derrick started to ask.
Tate silenced him with a wave of his hand. "I know what's going on. I saw the picture of Kristin those fuckers sent you. I know where she is."
Derrick stared in silence at him, his brain going into overdrive. "Where?" he asked.
"Wolfe's house. That's who's got her, right? He wants you to throw the game?" The idea of it all made Tate sick. He'd heard of people betting on games, sometimes against their own teams, but stealing people's wives to force the outcome? He thought this might be a football first.
"Not exactly," Derrick's voice croaked. "He wants me to throw my game. Not the whole game. He doesn't care if we beat the Broncos or not, as long as I don't beat his record."
Tate's jaw fell open. "Of all the sick... Why didn't you call the cops?"
"I was afraid they'd kill her. I didn't know where she was. I couldn't risk that." Derrick's heart was thundering in his chest. He looked around the locker room to see if anyone else could hear it.
"Well, now we know. Let's call the cops."
Derrick shook his head. "No, by the time they get there, it could be too late. This guy’s obviously a few bricks shy of a full load. There’s no telling what someone so unstable might do."
"What do you mean?" But Derrick's lips tightened and his arms folded across his chest.
"Well fuck man, let's go get her ourselves then. Now!"
"What? During half time?"
"Yeah man, why not?"
Derrick considered this. They had at least twenty minutes before Randy would realize he was gone. Could they do it? He wouldn’t risk Kristin’s life.
Derrick's phone buzzed in his hand. He looked down at it, afraid to answer.
"Hello?" he put the phone to his ear.
"Derrick. Where's Kristin?"
It took him a minute before he realized who the voice belonged to. "Mrs. Walker?"
"Where is she?" her voice was urgent. Derrick didn't know what to say. Finally, he settled for the truth.
"Randy Wolfe has her."
"I knew it."
He heard Kristin's father in the back, cursing.
"You… how could you know?" Derrick asked. "Did he call you too?"
"I keep telling Kristin—we're psychic."
Derrick wanted to laugh, but how could he argue with them? They were calling him. They evidently knew something was wrong. Whether it was psychic ability, or some innate knowledge that sprung up when your child was in trouble, he had to admit there was something more than just guessing going on here.
<
br /> "We're here in Washington," Kristin's mom said. "Tell us where to go."
***
Half time was ending. Wolfe took the field, his eyes searching for his enemy. He hated Wellborn. He was a smug punk, and not nearly as good looking as the women seemed to think. The whistle blew and everyone filed into place. His eyes searched the faces, but Wellborn wasn't there. He searched the sidelines. He'd played so badly the first half, their coach probably pulled him from the game.
"Idiot," Wolfe mumbled. Then the ball was in play and the third quarter was rolling quickly along. Wolfe got the ball and ran with it, scoring another touchdown for his team. Every new yard he gained, felt to him like he was sticking a dagger deep into Wellborn's chest. His eyes scanned the sidelines again, wanting to see Wellborn's face. Something didn't feel right.
"Time out," Randy yelled, and ran over to his coach. "Where's Wellborn?" he asked.
"What?"
"Wellborn, where is he?"
"How the hell should I know? What's the matter with you? Get back on the field!" His coach screamed but Wolfe ignored him. Their coach was always screaming. He started back onto the field, then veered to the Peregrines side, surprising the hell out of their coach.
"Where's Wellborn?" he shouted. This was getting ridiculous. He wanted an answer.
The coach smiled. "Worried he's gonna beat your record?"
Wolfe felt his body start to tingle and pulled it back in. Shifting in front of a million people was probably a bad idea.
Coach tried to ignore Wolfe. He'd never liked the guy. He was happy when the Peregrines had traded him last year. When he saw Randy wasn't going away, he finally decided to say something. "Don't worry about your record tonight Wolfe. You saw Wellborn the first half. Sick as a dog. Can't even stand. I had Tate take him home."
Wolfe turned and left the field.
Chapter 15
Tate was a life-long Washingtonian and knew very nook and cranny of the state. He knew exactly where Wolfe's place was without even having to use his nav.
"I keep forgetting that Wolfe used to be on the Peregrines," Derrick said, grateful for Tate's help.
"Yeah, but that was before I joined the team." Tate eyed him, the prankster in him wanting to surface even now. "You know there's rumors about Wolfe."
"What kind of rumors?" Derrick asked.
"Oh, people say he's a vampire. Likes to drink the blood of small children and animals. Nothing too unusual for football." He made the joke then instantly regretted it when Derrick didn't laugh. "Sorry man, I'm an asshole when I get nervous."
Derrick's face was set in a hard line that looked like he'd never laughed at a joke in his life. He wasn't mad at Tate though, he was in shock. They were pulling up to Wolfe's house and Kristin's parents had just arrived... along with his own parents. They stood glowering at each other, but at least no fists were flying.
"What are you doing here?" he asked his parents, jumping out of Tate's car before it had even stopped moving. He felt bad dragging Tate into this. He didn't even know the whole story, and there wasn't time to explain it.
"What are you doing here?" Derrick repeated.
His parents looked at each other and shrugged. "We never left. It was all a bluff. We could never disown you. You're our son." His father's words swelled Derrick's heart with warmth, but there was no time for warmth right now.
"How did you know we were here?"
Derrick's father nodded towards Kristin's parents.
"You called my parents?" Derrick asked, incredulous. If Kristin were standing here, she'd be thrilled about that. Just the thought of her sent cold shivers up his spine. The buzz that had been following them since the playground faded in and out. "We have to hurry," he said, his voice breaking.
"How do we get in?" Kristin's father demanded.
"I thought stakes were only for vampires," Tate said, joking, running a hand over a wooden stake poking out of a bag slung over the back of Kristin's father.
Kristin's father rolled his eyes. "If you stab anything through the heart with a stake, it will die. Doesn't matter what it is. Doesn't hurt to use wood, just in case."
The response caught Tate so off guard he stopped walking around and really took in the situation. Kristin's parents... Derrick's parents... kidnapping and wooden stakes. "What's really going on here?" he asked, suddenly sensing that there were important details he was missing.
Derrick turned to him, "Randy's a werewolf. I'm a werepanther. Vampires are real. Though, there aren't any here. I don't think." He looked at Kristin's parents. They shook their heads. "No, none here."
Tate laughed. "Uh—huh."
"We're wasting time," Derrick yelled. He was right.
Derrick's parents went behind some bushes, and when they came back out they were walking on all fours. His father leaped over the fence easily. His mother followed. Kristin's parents stood glowering.
"We're not leaving you here alone with her," her father shouted. Derrick's father jumped up on his hind legs and knocked something off the side of the gate wall. The gate fell open and Kristin's parents stepped through it.
"Of course we're not going to leave you behind," Derrick said, turning to Kristin's parents. "You need to trust us, just a little. Not all shifters are evil." Then he willed his muscles and bones to form the familiar shape that he'd come to love. The itch to run made its way to his brain, and he didn't fight it. Running was good. Especially since they had to hurry.
Tate stood beside Kristin's mother with his mouth on the ground. "Awesome!" he finally whispered before slipping through the gate after the others.
***
Kristin heard noises below her. She opened one eye. Her face felt like a tenderized beef patty. She tried to scream, but it came out in a whisper. "Hello?"
Derrick's ears perked up. He could already smell her, but there were a lot of smells in this house. Wolf scent was barely palatable to panthers, and he'd been having a hard time finding Kristin because of it. Now, with her whisper, he had a guide. He ran towards her.
Derrick was at the top of the stairs, his path clear, when Tom leaped from out of nowhere, blocking his way. Derrick roared. Tom rushed at him. They rolled around on the ground for a while, teeth grinding against each other's skin, before, with a swipe of his massive paw, Derrick slashed Tom's cheek open and he ran off whimpering.
"Wait!" Tate bounded up the stairs. "Wait for me!" Derrick wasn't waiting for anyone. Kristin was close. Her scent was stronger now that he was upstairs. He followed it into the bedroom and pushed the closet door open. His wife was lying on the ground, unconscious.
Derrick felt his relief at finding her crushed as he took in the sight of her body. Her lips were blue. Her dress was stained. Her whole face looked like a giant bruise. Her eyes were half opened, as thought she was hallucinating. He licked her face and her eyes began to focus. She smiled and Derrick's heart leapt.
"Derrick?"
He was encouraged that her voice was stronger than it had been a minute ago. She looked bad, but he could hear the strength behind her words. "Derrick, look out!"
He felt something dig into his back. It happened so fast, he wasn't sure what was attacking him. For half a second, he thought Kristin's parents had driven one of their stakes into him. He tried to spin and see what was hurting him, but whatever it was dug into his body too tightly.
Randy Wolfe hung onto Derrick, refusing to let go. The anger in him boiled over and he dug his claws deeper inside him, envisioning hitting some vital organ. Suddenly, Wolfe felt a slug to his head. He fell off Derrick's back and hit the ground, looking up just in time to see Tate bringing a baseball bat down on him. He jumped at Tate, slashing his chest open with a satisfying rip that left his heart beating out of his chest. Tate fell to the ground. Wolfe grinned. It was almost too easy taking down jocks like Tate.
Derrick felt the growl rise in his throat seconds before he tore through the air, lunging at Randy's throat, it was with the intention of drawing blood. Randy turne
d, leaping at Derrick. They met in mid-air and clambered to the ground together.
More growls and roars sailed up from downstairs, and Kristin heard her parents scream. Her eyes flew open. She was wide awake now. Her head pounded and she felt like she'd gone through the windshield of a car, but she was alive. "Mom!" she screamed. "Dad! Up here! Help!"
Derrick and Randy rolled around the room together. Suddenly there were three more wolves in the room with them. The all pounced on Derrick. She could hear flesh ripping open.
"They're killing him!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, trying to get out of her ropes so she could help. She rolled across the room and got close enough to kick one, but it had no impact.
Two panthers appeared in the door then, followed by her parents, each holding a sword. She barely had time to wonder where the hell they had gotten swords before they all ran into the room together, each tackling a wolf. She watched, amazed, as her parents cut through the air with skill and efficiency, knocking the wolves down one by one. Derrick's parents moved so quickly, they were nothing but black streaks with razor teeth. As soon as her parents knocked a wolf to the ground, his were on top of it ripping it apart.
When the roars had stopped and the air was clear of wolves, Derrick shifted back to his human form. He was hurt but not dead. His parents, still panthers, huddled around Tate, whose chest was moving in shallow breaths. They took turns licking his wounds, which began to heal over, but not fast enough.
Derrick cradled her in his arms. Her hands, finally free, wrapped around his neck, pulling him close. There was a soft whimper from the corner and Kristin opened her eyes to see Randy pulling himself along the floor, his leg dangling off him in an unnatural way. She wanted to feel bad for him, but then remembered the way he'd tied her wrists together and shoved her into a closet. She hoped his leg fell off.
Derrick rubbed his head against hers, relishing in the soft buzz of electricity that had returned. Kristin's face was bruised, but she'd never looked more beautiful. His lips found hers as warm and wanting as ever, and they breathed each other in again, feeling their destiny in each other's arms.
Bears of Burden: THORN Page 31