by C. C. Wood
As swiftly as he’d grabbed my hair, Darrell released me. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He turned toward me, crouching down so we were at eye level. “Now you. How much does Sophia know about the situation?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed in his face. He scowled at me, his hand shooting through the bars to grab my chin.
“What the fuck is so funny?” he asked.
“Y-y-you,” I answered, taking a shaky breath as I struggled to control the hysterical giggles bubbling up inside me. “Who do you think sent me here, Darrell? She knows everything. In fact, I don’t think it will be long before she and her allies descend on this town and put you all down like the sick animals you are.” I wiped the smile off my face, my gaze boring into his. “And I think you know very well what Gram will do to you when she finds out you’ve killed me.”
I saw a shimmer of real fear in his eyes before he blinked and it was gone. My reputation as a fighter was well known in the U.S., but the hushed rumors whispered about my grandmother spread all over the world. Sophia MacArthur was the first female alpha to hold her pack against all challengers for over a hundred years. She was fair and generous to the wolves under her protection, but anyone who crossed her would quickly find out that she was merciless. There would be no hiding from Gram once she realized what he’d done, and Darrell knew it.
The door to the front area of the police department slammed open. Darrell and I both twisted to look at the newcomer.
“Get your hands off her,” Brayden Kirkpatrick snarled.
Carefully, Darrell released me, lifting his hands up to show his palms as he backed away.
“No one touches my mate but me,” Brayden continued, stalking forward. His voice sounded rusty, as if he used it so little it no longer worked correctly.
I watched him warily as he entered my cell, walking up behind me until I could no longer see him. I felt his hand stroke my hair and fought the instinct to shudder in revulsion.
“Leave, Darrell,” Brayden commanded. When Darrell hesitated, Brayden growled low in his throat. Though he was creepy as hell, he was more dominant than Darrell Whelby and they both knew it.
“I’ll be back later,” Darrell threatened, his eyes darting from me to Lachlan.
Brayden remained utterly still behind me as the older wolf left the room, waiting until the door clicked shut before he moved again. His hands whispered over my hair, down to my shoulders and back. I wondered what he was doing, my body tensing. When his palms came up to squeeze my breasts, Lachlan and I both growled.
“Don’t touch me,” I commanded, my voice so low that the words were little more than a rumble in my throat.
Without a word, Brayden grabbed the front of my t-shirt and ripped it from collar to hem, his hand coming back up to twist my nipple in a punishing grip.
I couldn’t bite back the yelp that emerged from my throat at the pain. Lachlan howled, throwing the weight of his body against his bindings, straining to get free.
Brayden leaned against my back, pressing my naked torso into the bars as he twisted my nipple again. “You’re my mate and I will touch you however I like,” he hissed.
When I turned my head and tried to bite him, he backed off quickly, releasing my breast. His hand flew up and connected with my cheek in a sharp slap. Though it wasn’t pleasant, I’d been hit harder in sparring practice by adolescent wolves. I snapped my teeth at him again.
“You’re weaker than most of the pups I train.” I hissed.
He hit me again and I laughed, which only made his rage boil higher, but I didn’t care.
“I’m not your mate,” I stated, leveraging against my bonds in order to face him more fully. “And I never will be.”
His only reply was to tear my ruined shirt from my body and shred my underwear. A tendril of fear unfurled inside me as he stripped me naked. He pressed his nose against my shoulder and inhaled, letting me know that he smelled my trepidation. His eyes glinted with malicious amusement. He wanted my fear. He liked it.
Just feet away, Lachlan fought the ropes holding him like a mad creature, snarls and nearly unintelligible threats falling from his lips, but Brayden ignored him. I didn’t dare look in his direction and draw Brayden’s attention away from me.
He brushed my hair aside, his hands nearly gentle, revealing the bite mark on my neck. The mark that Lachlan had left there just hours ago.
His body crowded mine and I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat when I felt his erection grind against my ass. “You shouldn’t have let him bite you, Chloe,” he whispered in my ear.
I tensed and strained against the ropes when his hands moved around my thighs, his fingertips trailing up over my hipbones and belly to my breasts. He cupped them, stroking my nipples. I gagged and bucked, trying to dislodge him, but he merely pressed his weight more firmly against my back, pinning me to the bars. With his cheek brushing mine and his chin resting on the bite, Brayden stared at Lachlan.
“For marking what’s mine, you will die, Ian Lachlan,” he stated. “But first, I’m going to make you watch me claim my mate while you’re powerless to stop me.”
His hands released my breasts, one moving up to fist in my hair and angling my head to the side, his grip so tight that tears sprang into my eyes. With my neck bared to him, he struck, his teeth sinking deep into the muscle of my shoulder. Growling low in his throat, he shook his head, tearing into the flesh and destroying the mark that Lachlan had put on me.
I screamed in agony, my back arching hard in an attempt to escape the pain. Only then did Brayden release me.
“There,” he crooned as blood dripped down my chest and back. “That’s much better.”
I heard the telltale clink of his belt buckle and I knew what was coming. The constant thud of Lachlan’s body hitting the bars behind him as he fought to free himself pierced the haze that pain had cast over my mind. I looked at him, knowing even if we escaped with our lives, neither of us would be able to get past this. Even if I succeeded in killing Brayden, the ghosts of tonight would drive a permanent wedge between us.
Shrieking, I jerked my hands and feet inward, feeling the rope cutting in to my flesh as I strained. The anchors beneath my feet groaned in protest and I felt a flash of hope. The wall of bars holding me up quivered and squeaked as I pulled harder.
Brayden’s hands were on me, trying to hold me still, but I was possessed.
“I AM NOT YOUR MATE!” I roared, feeling the muscles and tendons in my arms stretch to their breaking point.
Suddenly, the ceiling above us caved in with an explosion of debris and dust, and Brayden was thrown away from me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lachlan
A cloud of dust obscured Chloe and Brayden from my view. My wolf was howling inside me, fighting to get out. I held onto my control by the thinnest thread. If I shifted, trussed up as I was, my arms and legs would be pulled out of joint.
Instead, I focused on my fingers. If I could keep the change only in my hands, I might be able to shred the ropes enough to break them. Eager to join the fray and kill the male who attacked our she-wolf, the animal inside me cooperated. I’d never attempted a partial shift before. It was dangerous and difficult. Only the oldest, strongest wolves mastered the feat, but right now I was willing to try anything to help the woman I loved.
My fingernails lengthened and sharpened, becoming claws. It hurt like hell. The rest of my body wanted to follow, to shift into wolf form, but I couldn’t allow it.
I twisted my wrist until I managed to scrape at the rope stretched taut between the bars and my arm. I glanced at the other cell. The dust was settling and I could see Chloe’s shadow, still bound to the bars, and two forms battling behind her.
Someone had come to help us. As I cut at the ropes, I sniffed, sneezing when the dust hit my nostrils. I couldn’t smell our rescuer, but I had an idea who it might be. If my guess was correct, he would still be weak.
Finally, the rope snapped and my arm was
free. Releasing my other arm and my feet was much quicker. I lunged across the cell. Chloe’s eyes met mine, hard and cold. She nodded to me as I split the ropes on her wrists. Crouching down, I reached through the bars and freed her feet.
Without a word, she whirled and jumped into the battle that raged behind her. The dust had settled enough for me to catch a glimpse of the wolf that had crashed through the ceiling. It was Carter Whelby.
The door that led out of the holding area flew open, crashing against the wall. Three of Darrell’s officers came in, heading toward the cells. Adrenaline cleared the last of the drugs from my system, my vision sharpening and the nausea fading. Leaping to my feet, I charged.
Rather than fight as shifters did, with fangs and fists, the first officer drew his sidearm, pointing it at me with trembling hands. The first shot grazed my shoulder, but I was on top of him before he could squeeze off another. I ripped the gun from his grasp and my hand sliced across his throat. He gaped at me, his hands clutching the torn flesh as he hit the ground.
The other two wolves reached for their weapons as well, their eyes wheeling wildly. I felt a surge of loathing as I lifted the weapon I still clutched and shot them both without hesitation. They were too weak to hold their position with their shifter abilities, so they would die without the respect of a fair fight.
I glanced out the door, found the police station empty, and turned to aid Carter and Chloe in their fight with Brayden. As I faced the group, a body flew at me from the cell, sending us both through the wall. A figure sprinted past us, his clothing torn and bloody.
Chloe ran after him, stopping only when she saw me sprawled beneath Carter. She stared after Brayden for only a moment before coming over and helping me shift Carter to the floor.
He groaned, clutching his ribs as his head lolled. “Did we get him?”
A smile tugged at my lips, but it was grim. “He got away.”
“Fuck,” Carter groaned, rolling onto his side and sitting up. “What about Darrell?”
“Gone,” I answered, standing and helping Carter to his feet.
Chloe moved ahead of us, checking the open room that held the officer’s desks and the reception area. It was empty.
“We need to leave,” she said. “Before they come back.”
Carter coughed. “No. We have to get to the safe. This might be our only chance.”
Though Chloe gave him a measuring look, she didn’t argue. “Where?”
I supported Carter’s weight as he led us to Darrell’s office. He pulled away from me, staggering behind the massive desk in the center of the room. Falling to his knees, he shoved the office chair aside. The floor beneath the desk appeared to be the same tile that appeared in the front part of the building, until he pressed on one of the squares. There was a quiet click and the tile popped up. Moving it aside, he began pulling out stacks of CD’s, flash drives, and printed photographs.
“Take these,” he commanded me.
“Where am I supposed to put them? In my pockets?” Chloe was still naked and all I wore were my jeans. There was no way everything in his hands would fit in my pockets. I was itching to get out of this place. There was no telling how many wolves would come with Darrell when he returned.
Chloe appeared at my side, a plastic shopping bag in her hand. Without a word she took the stack of evidence from Carter and shoved it inside. Tying the handles together, she moved to Carter, helping him to his feet.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” she declared.
“I have a car hidden a few blocks away. Go out the back,” Carter mumbled, leaning heavily on her.
The night was utterly still when we exited the building, the first, faint streaks of dawn appearing in the east. I watched Chloe carefully, looking for any signs that she might still be suffering from the effects of the tranquilizer that Darrell had given us, but she was alert, moving swiftly and silently through the shadows despite her burden.
A few minutes later, we were inside Carter’s car, driving away from town. His voice was thick and pained as he gave me directions. The fact that he’d managed to take on an alpha wolf in his weakened condition said more about his commitment to helping us than any vow he could have made.
We arrived at an old farmhouse a half hour from Prater just as the sun rose over the horizon. Chloe and I helped Carter from the car.
“Are you sure this place is safe?” I asked him.
He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees. “Yes. No one knows about the house. Not even my father.”
Chloe and I exchanged a look over his head. That’s what we’d believed as well. We needed to figure out how Darrell had found us in the first place, but now wasn’t the time.
I leaned down and scooped Carter in my arms. He groaned in pain but didn’t argue as I carried him up the steps to the door.
“Key?” Chloe asked, coming around to open the door.
“My right pocket.”
She gingerly fished it out his pocket and unlocked the knob, pushing the door open for us.
As I entered the house, Carter asked, “You gonna give me a kiss while you carry me across the threshold?”
I heard Chloe chuckle behind me. Considering the ordeal she’d just been through, the fact that he made her laugh meant I owed him a debt I could never repay.
“Where’s your bedroom?” I asked.
“Whoa, now I am not that kind of girl,” he slurred.
“Maybe I should just drop you if you’re feeling well enough to joke,” I muttered.
“Up the stairs, second door on the left,” he replied.
Chloe was still smirking when she followed us into Carter’s bedroom, but the smile faded when she got a clear look at his injuries.
“Get me some towels and hot water,” I commanded, leaning over Carter’s prone body on the bed. “I’m going to get him cleaned up and see what I can do for him.”
“I’ll heal,” he argued weakly. “Just bring me some water and some ibuprofen.”
“Ibuprofen thins the blood, you idiot,” Chloe retorted testily. “Just let us get you sorted out.”
I ripped Carter’s t-shirt down the middle, revealing the cuts and massive purple bruises on his abdomen.
“Okay, I’m really beginning to think you have a thing for me. First you carry me into my bedroom and now you’re tearing my clothes off.”
I prodded the worst of the bruising, making him hiss with pain. “Sure, once you’re healed I’ll take you out for dinner and dancing.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re definitely not my type. Dinner and dancing? When were you born? In the 1940’s?”
“Yeah, 1942.”
He chuckled harshly. “Damn, you look pretty good for an old fucker.”
“How touching,” Chloe said dryly as she re-entered the room. “Should I give you two another moment?”
I glared at her. “Just bring me the stuff.”
She and I worked together, cleaning Carter’s wounds. He tried to refuse when we began licking the worst of the cuts, but we ignored him.
“Shut up,” Chloe demanded. “You saved our asses and we’re going to help you in any way we can.”
He stopped protesting. By the time we were done, his breathing was much easier and the bruising on his abdomen was fading. The internal bleeding had stopped as his body healed itself.
Chloe helped me strip him naked and draped a sheet over him.
As his eyes closed, Carter mumbled, “There’s clothes and stuff in the other bedroom. Take whatever you need.”
We waited until his breathing was deep and even before we left the room.
As I closed the bedroom door behind us, I said, “I need to see to your injuries, Chloe.”
She turned toward me, looking exhausted in the morning light. “They’re probably all healed by now.”
I glanced at the savage bite mark on her neck and she winced, looking away.
“I’ll tend to it,” she stated quietly.
“No, I’ll do it. I’m
going to have to help close the bite with saliva,” I insisted.
Her shoulders drooped as she gave me her back and walked into the bathroom. “Just let me take a shower first. I’m covered in blood and dust.” Then she shut the bathroom door in my face.
With a sigh, I found the other bedroom Carter had mentioned and rummaged around until I found a pair of men’s boxers and a t-shirt. It wasn’t ideal, but I thought she might want some clothing between her injured skin and the coarse sheets on the spare bed.
When I entered the bathroom, she was just stepping out of the shower.
“You should get cleaned up too,” she suggested. “So I can see if your cuts need treatment as well.”
I sensed that she wasn’t ready for me to touch the bite wound on her neck yet, so I did as she asked. The water ran black and red as I washed the blood and dirt from my skin as quickly as possible. A few minutes later, I climbed out of the tub and snagged the towel she’d left hanging on the rack for me.
I dried off and slipped on the shorts I’d found for myself. Chloe was no longer in the bathroom, but I found her sitting on the side of the bed in the spare bedroom. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she was wearing the clothes I laid out for her.
“Thanks for finding these,” she said.
I nodded. “No problem.” She tensed as I moved behind her. Seeing it, I shifted to the side closest to her injured shoulder but still within her sightline. “I need you to take off the shirt so I can see the bite,” I stated, keeping my voice soothing.
Exhaling heavily, she lifted the shirt over her head, taking the towel with it. Gently, I shifted the damp strands of her hair to the side, revealing the ragged edges of Brayden’s handiwork. Though it had been hours since he’d bitten her, the wound still oozed blood and the skin was healing in some places, but unevenly. The scarring would be deep and likely permanent.
Rage filled me at the sight. Not just of another male’s bite on her body, but the pain it symbolized. Her pain. Swallowing a growl, I leaned forward and slid my tongue along the one side of the injury, then the other.