My Furry Valentine

by Karen Ranney

  I honestly didn’t know what to tell them.

  “Torrance?”

  Well, hell.

  “A friend of mine is in trouble,” I said. “I’m on my way to help.”

  Didn’t that make me sound like the fire department and the paramedics all rolled into one? Super Torrance to the rescue!

  “What kind of trouble?” Michael asked, walking around the back of the car to reach me.

  There wasn’t any room between my back bumper and the front of their car. I wondered if Douglas had ever been a cab driver.

  I decided to give them the expurgated version before realizing that wouldn’t sound any better than the unedited story. Either way they were going to think I was a loon. What a damn shame that my first day as their sister was so fraught with drama. Yep, fraught with drama was the perfect way of describing all of this.

  They were just going to have to assimilate a whole heckuva lot tonight. There was a good chance they might not be ready for it.

  “I think he’s through there,” I said, deciding to just forge onward. I headed for the road leading into the woods.

  The three of us walked down the road together, the way they watched everything around them making me wonder about their military service. When I whispered the question, Michael answered in the affirmative.

  "Marines. Both of us.”

  Well, yay me. Something was looking up, at least in my choice of companions.

  I stopped in the middle of the road, not understanding the sensation that suddenly buzzed through me. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

  I began to run. Let me tell you that running in three inch heels is like wearing spikes that go straight into your knees. I wish I could say I ignored the pain. I couldn’t, but it wasn’t as important as getting to Mark.

  A Furry's vision in pitch dark was better than a human’s, but not like night vision goggles. I tripped more than once — because of the damn heels — and almost fell flat on my face when I hit a rut in the road. I kept running, desperate to get to the cabin I knew was straight ahead.

  My brothers didn’t ask me any questions, but they kept up with me.

  I expected to encounter a hunting cabin, something tucked into the woods and perfect for those weekends when the guys would load up the pickup with a case or two of beer, their guns, and ammunition. What I saw was a tiny house with a gabled roof and a stucco exterior painted a color that looked light gray in the darkness.

  Two windows faced the road, and both had what looked like sheets pulled across the glass. There were lights shining inside and movement, tall shadows that looked like super Wolfies.

  I slipped around the property, keeping to the woods, Michael accompanying me. I don’t know what he’d done in the Marines, but he was good at surveillance. He and Douglas made some hand signals before Douglas went in the other direction.

  The sense of desperation that had fueled my run from the road was still there. I was abruptly grateful for my Pranic blood. I wasn’t winded. Instead, I was ready to fight.

  One thing I could say about my new brothers, they were not misogynists. Not once had they said that I shouldn't bother my pretty little head about the situation. Nor had they advised me to stay behind while they, rough-and-tumble males, solved the problem.

  Michael and I crept back to the front of the house, the only entrance point. Two windows were on either side of the door, and like those in the rear, they had sheets over the glass.

  If I hadn’t seen Douglas wave, I wouldn’t have known that he was joining us. He was so silent that even I couldn’t hear him.

  What, exactly, had the two of them done in the military?

  The approach to the house was surrounded with gravel and larger, chunky rocks leading to the three steps to the door. It was going to be difficult to get to the front door without making a sound.

  Too bad I didn’t have the ability to fly. That was one spell I hadn’t seen.

  There was a river nearby, and a waterfall not too far away. My brothers’ breathing was as loud as gusts of wind, but I didn’t recite my spell. I wanted to hear what was going on in the cabin.

  I listened for a few minutes, long enough to get a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “What are we going to do now?” one of the men asked.

  “Get rid of him,” Craig said. “He’s told us everything he knows.”

  Get rid of him? What had Craig turned into?

  I crept down behind a tree, pulled out my phone and called my father. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have involved him in this. After all, he had enough on his plate right now. But he was alpha of our clan and as such, could mobilize as many men as we needed.

  When he answered, I gave him a brief, whispered description of the situation.

  "There are four of them," I said. "And three of us. I don't have any doubt that we can overpower them, but I don't know what to do with them after that. They're guilty of kidnapping Mark and the authorities probably need to be involved. But Craig is their leader, which means he's your problem first.”

  My father didn't waste any time arguing with me. All he did was ask me for directions, which I gave us well as I could.

  "I don't suppose you have a GPS tracker on my car," I said, somewhat sarcastically.

  "Not on the new one.”

  I stared up at the canopy of leaves over my head, wondering why I hadn't thought to use the sniffer on my car. That was it. Dear old Dad and I were going to have a long conversation about privacy, personal boundaries, and the fact that I was grown, living away from home, and no longer twelve.

  “Stay there and don’t do anything until we get there.”

  He hung up before I could answer, which was probably a good thing.

  “What do we do?” Douglas asked.

  “Save Mark.”

  We couldn’t afford to wait. I had been able to feel Mark’s physical pain and I’d never been able to do that before. He’d felt mine, though, when Austin had tried to drain me dry.

  Then, suddenly, nothing. I couldn’t sense Mark even when I concentrated on his image. The silence was like a void in my mind, something that should have been there and wasn’t. That scared me, and it was a cold, frozen, empty terror. It felt like our connection had been somehow severed.

  Had they killed him?

  No, damn it, I would have felt that. I would have known. I was hoping that he’d just passed out.

  I wasn’t going to let them hurt him any more.

  I was Pranic, damn it, and that had to count for something.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I did like a brother who approved of me

  When Michael nodded to his brother, then made a forward movement with his hand, I shook my head. I had another idea first.

  The compulsion had worked earlier on Austin. Would it work on Craig? I’d be a fool not to try it.

  I knelt beside the tree, listening. Craig was making a phone call. It went into voice mail, but not before I heard Austin’s dulcet tones on the recording. Had Austin been part of this plot after all?

  Dear old Dad was not going to be happy.

  I pushed that thought away and concentrated on Craig. I closed my eyes and visualized him as he’d been in his human form the last time I’d seen him.

  Craig.

  I wished I’d practiced that seeing spell more. I would love to be able to peer through walls. Or trees, for that matter, since I was still kneeling behind the trunk.

  If compelling Craig didn’t work, there was always our brute strength.

  The problem was that the four men in the house might do something to Mark before we could reach him.

  “Torrance, what’s going on?” Michael whispered.

  I held up my hand and shook my head. I needed time and concentration for this to work. Or maybe I needed to be standing in front of Craig like I had with Austin. Well, hell, I was just going to figure out how to do this long distance.

  Craig. Come here.

  I allowed myself to
reach back into my past and remember Craig as he’d been when I was a teenager and enthralled with him. I recalled those nights when we went on the Hunt together and the passion that marked the dawns. He had been a gorgeous creature naked in the morning light, his skin tinted golden by the first rays of the sun. I’d been so needy, so innocent about his character. It had been a case of lust masquerading as love. There’s nothing wrong with lust, but next to love it was a pale imitation.

  I pulled my thoughts away from Mark where they’d strayed and back to Craig again.

  Craig. Come here.

  Would he come if he knew I was calling him? Or would he know it was a trap? His arrogance would only hear the tremor in my unspoken voice. I wanted him to remember, too, all those times when I’d been submissive, when he’d had total control over me, when I thought that love meant allowing dominance. I sent him a picture of the teenage Torrance, eyes shining with hero worship.

  Craig. Dearest Craig. Darling Craig.

  There was a good chance I was going to screw this up by vomiting.

  You need to leave the house now.

  Nothing happened.

  I pressed my fingers against my temples, wondering if vampires got headaches when they tried this mesmerism stuff. I really should have practiced more before giving this another try.

  Was there a limit to how many times you could do it before your head exploded? Or was the ability to mesmerize like a battery? Once you’d used it, you had to let it recharge? I didn’t know that, either. In fact, you could pack all the information I knew about my new talents into a thimble and still have room left over.

  I decided to try it again.

  You need to leave the house, Craig. You need to leave the house now.

  I was seriously sucking at this compulsion thing. And I couldn’t suck. Mark’s life was at stake.

  Craig.

  The door slowly opened. Craig stood there peering into the darkness.

  “What is it?” one of the other Wolfies asked.

  “I thought I heard something,” Craig said, still peering in our direction.

  Maybe I didn’t need to compel him, just throw a rock at the door or something.

  He moved out to the steps.

  I stood and moved closer to Michael. “That’s Craig. He’s the leader of this fiasco.”

  “Cut off the head, and the snake will die.”

  I wasn’t certain that we should be involved in any beheading, but I applauded the sentiment of that remark.

  I didn't underestimate Craig. As a Were he was fast and strong, but I'd overpowered him once and I could do it again. The problem was that I didn't want to show what I could do in front of all these witnesses. It was one thing to topple him when we were alone outside of Kerrville, another to do something in front of my brothers and the other Wolfies.

  I could just imagine what stories they would tell their buddies. Unless, of course, my father had them all imprisoned.

  Bottom line — and the bottom line really counted right now — it all depended on Mark. I had to get him out of there. If that meant that I exposed myself as Pranic to the world, so be it.

  Michael and Douglas made some weird hand signals in my direction and then disappeared, melting into the woods as if they'd suddenly grown branches and leaves. Michael headed toward the left while Douglas was making his way to the right, both of them soundless and frankly a little spooky.

  Seriously, what had they done in the Marine Corps?

  As I stood there, being relegated to the position of sweet young thing — I could almost feel my head being patted — Craig stepped down the walk, heading in my direction.

  Douglas attacked him while Michael entered the house with an ungodly war cry, something I remembered from an old Western.

  Well, hell, the least I should do was join them, sweet young thing that I was.

  I raced for the door and threw myself inside. At first it was a little hard to distinguish who was punching whom. I managed to avoid most of the blows while getting some of my own in.

  Until this moment, I don't think I've ever struck another human being. I've never wanted to. That was two firsts right there. Someone needed to pay for Mark's pain and I struck one of the Wolfies with a solid right hook, probably a lot stronger than he expected. There was a look of astonishment on his face just before he hit the floor.

  I caught sight of Mark then, and all thought of fighting drained out of me.

  Another one of the Wolfies tried to stop me from reaching Mark. Not a good idea. I think I gave him a neck chop, something I’d seen on TV. Anything to get him out of my way and stop him from bothering me.

  I could've done with a sword between my teeth or some type of gun. This hand-to-hand combat stuff was time consuming.

  I knelt beside the chair where Mark was sitting, fumbling at the plastic ties that held his wrists and ankles, wishing I had a knife. I didn’t want to cause him any more pain by pulling his wrists free.

  His face was almost unrecognizable. His eyes were mere slits. His lips were bruised and the rest of his face swollen and in various shades ranging from red to blue and black.

  I wanted to do to each one of those men what they’d done to Mark, with an extra helping for Craig. As soon as I’d freed Mark and gotten him some help.

  The chair was pointing to a corner and a monitor mounted on the wall. A green light on the bottom of the screen abruptly flashed to red and the screen went dark, but not before I saw a picture of a little girl asleep in a bed.

  I knew, instantly, how they’d been able to keep him there even with his Pranic strength. Mark had essentially submitted to them because of Cassie. As an inducement, I couldn't think of a better one than to use his daughter.

  "Mark," I said softly.

  I think he opened his eyes, but they were so badly bruised and swollen I couldn't tell for sure. His lips moved but no sound came out.

  "Don't try to talk.”

  Can’t.

  Really, I’m not the weepy type, although I’ve succumbed to tears a little too often lately. Like now, for example. I didn't try to hide how emotional I was.

  I wanted to do something, anything, but I couldn't even release him from his bonds. I looked around, just now registering that my brother had done a damn good job of overpowering three men. Of course, I’d helped in my sweet young thing way. All three of them were on the floor with various injuries.

  Michael was using the same zip ties to bind their hands behind them.

  "While you're at it, I would do their feet, too,” I said. "Do you have anything to cut them?”

  Like every man I knew, he dug into his pocket and withdrew a folded knife, tossing it to me with a grin.

  These new brothers of mine were really growing on me. In just a few hours, we’d already developed a camaraderie that was greater than anything Austin and I had ever had.

  I gently cut all of Mark's bonds and when he didn't budge from his pose, I moved his hands so they were hanging down at his sides, the better to get some circulation in them. I didn't like their bluish color.

  “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

  He made a movement, something that gave me a hint he was trying to speak again. Now was the perfect time for a little telepathic conversation. Thankfully, he got the hint.

  Danger.

  “Not to worry,” I said. “I brought reinforcements. My brothers.”

  Austin?

  “Nope. Michael and Douglas. You can meet them later.”

  I put my fingers on an undamaged portion of his face, feeling a tingle where we touched. I don't know if it was magic or being Pranic or merely simpatico, as they say.

  I looked at the monitor in the corner and then back at Mark. “Was it Cassie?”

  He tried to nod, but evidently the effort was too painful. I placed my hand on his shoulder. When he flinched, I said a swear word, one that wasn't very ladylike.

  Torrance.

  "Oh, don’t give me any lectures now. I'm not in the mood.”


  Not lecturing. Need you.

  “What can I do?”

  Find her.

  I nodded, then looked in Michael’s direction. “They were streaming something,” I said. “Is there any way to find out where from?”

  “They had a satellite on the roof, Torrance. It could have been from anywhere.”

  Hell, I hadn’t noticed a dish.

  “We need to call an ambulance,” I told Michael.

  No.

  “Now is not the time to act all macho, Mark. You need help.”

  “I’ve got a little medical training,” Michael said.

  Of course he did. I was beginning to think that my brothers were jacks of all trades.

  He examined Mark with what looked like skilled fingers. He even pulled out a pen light and flicked it in Mark’s eyes.

  “Any cuts?’

  “Cuts?” I asked.

  Hell, I hadn’t thought of him being stabbed. I’d just been kneeling here calmly talking while he was bleeding?

  No. Just their fists and anything else.

  I stared at him, wondering why the hell there was a note of humor in Mark’s voice.

  Michael was looking at me oddly.

  “He wasn’t stabbed. They just beat him.”

  “You have some kind of telepathic connection, don't you?" my brother asked.

  I glanced up at him warily.

  Weres, on the whole, don't believe in the paranormal world. Yes, yes, even though we can turn into four legged creatures once a month. We consider ourselves perfectly normal, but if anybody else does something weird, it’s just wrong. Maybe that’s why we have this aversion to vampires. Or anything else that goes bump in the night, for that matter. That also goes for having Pranic abilities, like super hearing and super strength and the ability to mesmerize someone.

  Michael, however, didn’t turn away. Nor did he look disgusted. Austin would have. Michael only grinned at me and continued to examine Mark.

  “We’re connected in some way,” I said, looking away when he unbuttoned Mark’s shirt. I wasn’t being all Southern Belle and ladylike. I just couldn’t stand to see the contusions on his chest and shoulders.

  I wish I’d met my brothers years ago. Something else my father and I would have to discuss. I was racking up quite a litany of conversational items.