Lone Wolf

by Karen Whiddon

  “Let’s go.” He prodded Beck’s back with something sharp that might have been a knife or a stick. This one, Beck vowed silently, rage welling up inside him, would pay later. He’d change and fight him, wolf to wolf. And when he won, he’d have no compunction about ripping out the other man’s throat.

  For now, he bent his head and struggled forward. One of his legs and three of his ribs felt broken. Luckily, shape-shifters healed quickly, so in a day or two, he should be good as new.

  If they let him live that long.

  Their nonsensical words had been exactly that—nonsense. He had no daughter. Even if such a thing were possible, Marika wouldn’t have kept his own child from him.

  Yet she had disappeared…. He cursed them and then himself for believing such nonsense even for a second.

  They urged him forward with a shove. He drooped, pretending to be weaker than he was, stumbling for good effect.

  “How much farther?” he croaked, conserving his strength for later.

  Striding ahead now, braided man barely spared him a glance. Again, Beck had to clamp down his fury. Though he truly thought he could take them all, he wanted to wait and see if they really had captured Marika Tarus.

  And find out if he actually had a daughter.

  He grimaced because the whispering thought wouldn’t go away.

  “There.” His captor pointed to a building, looming above them in the darkness. “We’re keeping her inside the basement, in the dark where her kind belong.”

  Stumbling again, Beck allowed them to steer him toward the entrance, all the while keeping his wolf and his rage in check. With each step, his anticipation grew. Could it really be Marika, the same vampire woman he’d sought for the past three years? What were the odds that these men had captured the one he’d hunted unsuccessfully for so long?

  A thousand to one, at least. Even higher, since they kept babbling about some mythical child.

  His child. Right. Again he shrugged off the thought. One thing he’d learned over the years was how dangerous it could be to allow himself to feel hope.

  Keeping his head down, he let them lead him inside, his anger building with every step, fueling him, giving him energy. He was careful to give no sign of his rapid recovery, conserving his strength for when he’d need it.

  Marika heard voices, muffled and faint, through her cement prison. They’d returned, the men who kept her here, believing she’d reveal the most precious aspect of her existence. Little did they know, she’d allow them to burn her to ash in full sunlight before she’d endanger little Dani.

  Then, the faint grinding as they struggled to remove the sarcophagus lid. Ah, her time had come. Their hour of reckoning.

  She held her breath while it slid slowly, painfully open, inch by inch. Even though they only used one small electric lantern, the new light seared her eyes, so accustomed to inky blackness had she become.

  Slowly, she adjusted, blink by blink, peering through her lashes at the blur of human faces surrounding her. She didn’t move, not yet. Motionless, she bided her time, building her strength for the optimal moment to make her bid for freedom.

  Then, once she was free, they would pay for daring to hold her here like this. She’d kill them all, one by one, and gorge herself in a fit of savagery on their still-warm blood, as her half-savage ancestors used to.

  Just the thought gave her a burst of adrenaline.

  “Get up,” one of them said, a hint of nervousness in his husky voice. “We brought someone to see you.”

  Instantly she froze, a frisson of fear stabbing her. Not Dani, surely they hadn’t found her daughter. No, she would have known, in that place in her chest where the heart of a mother once beat. Not Dani. Who, then, and why? Had they captured another vampire?

  Curious despite herself, she swallowed back the rage and pushed herself to her elbows, still pretending weakness.

  At first, blinking in the dim light, she counted only the same three. The tall shape-shifter with his long, dirty braid. The short man, fastidiously clean, who always smelled of coffee and soap, and the other, pudgy and mean-eyed, ever-present cigarette smoldering.

  Then, she saw him. The newcomer, another shifter. So badly beaten his swollen face was barely recognizable. Sagging against the cement wall, he seemed hardly able to hold himself upright.

  But when he raised his head and their gazes met, her entire world tilted crazily. Marika gasped, unable to help herself. Him! She knew this man, knew him intimately, and she’d taken care to avoid him.

  Grief stabbed her, awful and swift. “You,” she said. Only that, but enough. “Beck.” Anton Beck, who went by his last name.

  Slowly, painfully, he nodded and then gave her that lopsided smile she still remembered. “Marika, where have you been hiding? I’ve been looking for you for three years.”

  She dipped her chin, acknowledging the truth of his statement. “I know. I didn’t want to be found.”

  One of the others made a sound, reminding her of their presence. That they should witness this, such a powerful personal moment, brought the fury back in full force. For this, too, they’d pay.

  Reading her intentions in her face, Beck shook his head. “Wait,” he mouthed, cautioning her as if he had the right.

  The braided fool backhanded him. “Shut up. You talk when we tell you to talk.”

  Marika snarled, an almost wolflike growl that made Beck raise his head and go absolutely still.

  She remembered how things had been between them. Hell, from the look on his face, he did, too. Explosive. Amazing. Hot and fast, furious and gentle. She’d never expected to find that with him, and fear had been part of the reason she’d run.

  Dani had been the other reason.

  For a moment, the harsh sound of breathing was the only noise echoing in the basement. Two of the three men, the humans, shifted their weight uneasily, sensing perhaps their impending doom. Only their leader, the shifter who’d slapped Beck, seemed impervious, arrogantly confident.

  Or, she reflected grimly, stupid as hell. She’d bet on the latter.

  “Here’s the deal,” Ponytail said. “I’m glad you know each other. Wolf-man, we’re gonna let you drag vampire chick into the sun first thing in the morning. No.” He held up his hand as Beck made a noise of protest. “This isn’t nice, especially since we know you’ve been trying to find her for a long time. But she’s hiding someone we want more. You know this. The two of you can put your heads together and come up with a solution. Tell us where the kid is and we’ll let you go.”

  Marika watched Beck. Though he hadn’t known about their daughter, his closed-off expression showed no hint of his thoughts.

  “I’ll die before I let you have her,” she declared, waiting as Beck had asked, but eager to flex her returning strength and take them all down now.

  “We’ll let you have that wish,” the shorter captor chortled. His laughter died instantly when Marika cut him a look promising retribution.

  “Ten minutes.” Ponytail motioned the others to follow him. “This entire room is concrete, like a bunker. There are no windows and the only door is cement also, controlled remotely by me. So don’t even think of escaping. You won’t be able to.”

  The three exited. As they did, the heavy door ground into place, closing with a thud. The meager lightbulb cast long shadows on the walls.

  “Like the pyramids,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else. “Except they had only torches that went out once the oxygen left.”

  Swinging her legs over the side of the stone sarcophagus, she stood, swaying slightly. “You have no idea how good it feels to be out of that thing.”

  He came closer, studying her face with an intent look that made her shiver. “Did we—you really have a child?”

  For a split second she thought of lying, but she could no longer hide. “Yes. A daughter. I named her Danielle, Dani for short.”

  “How is that possible?” Frowning at her, he looked unconvinced. “Vampires can�
�t conceive.”

  Lifting one shoulder, she winced at the twinge of pain. “So they say. But I did. I went to speak with our seer and she told me this happens rarely. When it did, the child was meant to achieve great things. So, nine months later, my baby was born.”

  “Our baby,” he corrected, looking shell-shocked. As he stared at her, anger gradually replaced the surprise. “You kept this from me. My daughter. Why?”

  The moment she’d been dreading. Swallowing hard, she kept her gaze on him, not allowing herself the luxury of looking away. “Please. I had my reasons. I’ll explain later, I promise.”

  From the grim set of his jaw, she could tell he didn’t believe her. But finally, eyes blazing dark fury, he jerked his head in a nod.

  “Is Dani a Halfling?”

  Relief flooded her, which she instantly hid. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand his meaning. “She can shape-shift, if that’s what you mean. She’s alive.”

  “Not a vampire.” He spat the word as if he hated all of her species because of what she’d done. She didn’t suppose she could actually blame him.

  “No.” Her short laugh sounded bitter, she knew. “I couldn’t nurse her. But I bought formula and she thrived. She’s two and a half years old now.”

  “Why do they want her?”

  “That I don’t know. The seer warned me while I still carried her in my womb. To protect her, I hid among my own kind, until I learned Dani wasn’t safe there. Then I had no choice but to go into a human city and try to blend in. That’s how they found me.”

  “Where is she?” His voice was a harsh whisper. “My daughter, where is she now?”

  “Safe.” If she’d had a heart, it would have ached. So much pain in his face, grief in his voice. He’d never forgive her for what she’d done. She told herself it didn’t matter. Only Dani mattered.

  “For now.”

  “For always.” She glanced at the door, trying to judge the time. “When they come back, I’m going to kill them.”

  “Can you? Are you strong enough?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long has it been since you fed?”

  Again, she shrugged, forgetting her stiff shoulder. “Weeks, I think. Not long enough to hurt me. I’m fine. I’m still stronger than they.”

  “You need blood. Drink mine.” He came closer, turning his head so his neck was exposed to her. “Use my blood to give yourself strength.”

  Shocked, she stared at him, while her body reacted. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” she rasped, her mouth dry and her fangs suddenly aching. “When a vampire goes this long without nourishment, sometimes it’s difficult to stop.”

  “But you will.” His gaze met hers, his full of a confidence she didn’t share. “My sister loved you and said you were strong.”

  “Not that strong.”

  Again he moved closer, bringing to her his tantalizing scent, so aromatic that she wanted to weep. “Drink. Hurry up, we don’t have much time.”

  He hated her and yet was willing to do this for her? It made no sense.

  As if he understood her thoughts, he gave her a grim smile. “Two is better than one. If we’re going to get out of here, I need you strong enough to fight at my side. Now drink.”

  Despite her best intentions, she bent her head and moved in, ready to do as he asked.

  Chapter 2

  Before she could, the outer door began to grind open.

  “Too late.” She stepped backward, feeling only relief. Sharing blood with Anton Beck felt too intimate somehow, especially after what had happened between them.

  Plus, she didn’t really need it. Dark knows, she’d rested a long time. Even without feeding, she still had enough strength to take down ten puny humans.

  Protecting the injured shifter might be a bit problematic, though he seemed to think he was in fighting condition. For both their sakes, she hoped so.

  “How badly are you hurt?” She rushed the question.

  “Not as bad as I look.” Flexing his fists, he grinned at her. That grin, and the flash of attraction she felt, made her remember why she’d done what she had. Sometimes, she saw his face in her daughter’s.

  Pushing away her thoughts, she focused all her attention on the slowly opening door.

  When the concrete slab had opened halfway, two of their three captors stepped through. Only the tall shifter with the braid was missing.

  “Where’s the other?” She made her voice soft, casual.

  The fat one seemed nervous, pudgy fingers fidgeting with a ring of keys. “He went to get the rope.”

  Holding up a large cross, the dirty one grinned, showing stained teeth. “Don’t even think about trying anything.”

  A cross. What a fool. Some of her kind had lived in the times before Christianity. Either way, a cross had no effect on her. She wanted to laugh but knew better than to reveal the truth. She’d take any advantage she could get.

  Still, who were these men, and why were they living in the dark ages? Did they really think such a thing could harm her? They must not know squat about vampires. Excellent for her, bad for them.

  She eyed them, letting her gaze travel down the length of them, twisting her mouth as though she found them wanting. Which she did, actually.

  The smelly man began to sweat. He lifted his cross higher, trying to hide his terror. He didn’t realize that she could smell it, even over the stench of his unwashed body. The pungent scent of panic made her fangs ache and her stomach clench. Suddenly starving, she wanted to feed.

  But she forced herself to remain still. Though every instinct urged her to jump them—first the one with the cross, then his partner—she wanted all three to pay. She’d wait for ponytail man to return with the rope.

  “I don’t think he’s coming back,” Beck said in a casual voice. He still slumped against the wall, as though it hurt him to straighten. But she read both strength and determination in his dark eyes and knew that he, like her, only pretended weakness.

  What he didn’t realize was that she didn’t need his help. She didn’t need anyone’s help.

  It turned out Beck was wrong. Walking heavily, the other man returned with the rope. As he held it up, she frowned. What kind of rope was that? It looked more like snow chains for car tires, interwoven with metal links and rods for strength.

  Again she had to stifle a grin. They might have been able to keep her contained with a cement sarcophagus, but these puny metal chains would hold nothing.

  “Silver,” the man said, holding them aloft so they clinked. “Extra protection.”

  “Wrong species,” Beck drawled. “Vampires care nothing about silver. That’s us shape-shifters. You should have made the rope out of garlic.”

  Marika’s mouth twitched savagely at his mocking tone. The tall man suddenly appeared to have an inkling of his fate. His nostrils flared in terror, and he spun for the door, making a run for it.

  Now.

  Marika moved, vampire speed. Her former captor went down before he’d even taken a full step. Though by the laws of karma he should suffer, she ended his life quickly, ripping out his throat. Then, spinning before she’d even taken a satisfyingly deep drink of his warm blood, she launched herself at the other two captors, who’d frozen in shock.

  Fat man screamed like a pig. Dirty man went down blubbering. Him, she killed instantly. Turning to the fat man, she began gorging herself, letting herself drink her fill of his rich blood as the life force ebbed from him.

  “Enough. Let him go,” Beck said, yanking her up from her feeding.

  For a moment, she could only snarl up at him. Then, regaining her focus, she shook her head, sending droplets of blood flying. “I can’t. I’ve bitten him. If I don’t kill him now, he’ll become a vampire.”

  Beck frowned. “That one’s a shifter.” Pointing toward the braided one with the ripped-out throat, he moved closer. “He’s full-blooded, so he’s not dead. He won’t turn. You know our blood’s immune to your bite.”

&n
bsp; “I killed him.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “No, you didn’t. I just told you, he’s not dead. Only silver bullets or fire can end a shape-shifter’s life. Look, he’s already beginning to heal.” Standing, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, leaving a bloody smear. “Then we’ll set the place on fire.”

  “No.” Beck pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “He’s Pack. We have laws. I don’t want to be an accessory to murder. Let me call Pack authorities.”

  Punching in a speed-dial code, he gave the information in short, staccato sentences. When he hung up, she regarded him quizzically.

  “You didn’t tell them where we are.”

  “Didn’t need to. My phone’s a special phone, with a GPS locater built-in. They’ll use that to pinpoint this place.”

  “They can track you wherever you are?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?”

  He shrugged. “No. Why should it? I’m not doing anything I’d be ashamed of.”

  To each his own. With a nod, she bent over her victim, who’d expired quietly. Though she hadn’t drunk until she was stuffed, she felt pleasantly full. Already, her veins began to buzz with renewed energy. “This one’s definitely dead. Let me check the other.”

  A quick check of the pulse revealed that man, too, had expired. “I’m done here. Let’s get out of here before your Pack people show up. I don’t want to have to answer any questions.”

  Beck followed her as she headed for the door.

  Once outside, she took deep breaths of the cooling air, enjoying her mild buzz. She wasn’t used to the heady richness of fresh human blood. Like many other of her kind, she usually relied on blood banks or wild animals for nourishment.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her deceased best friend’s older brother. “I’m gonna run.”

  Beck grabbed her arm. “Not yet. If you’re going to wherever you have our daughter hidden, I’m going with you.”

  She hissed. “I’m not going there. I don’t want to endanger her.”