Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  "Change of plans." Damien sounded closer now, and she felt Cash stiffen. "I'll take her."

  Cash went very still, and she felt sudden heat pour from his body through the comforter. "Who changed the plans?" he asked carefully.

  "I did." Damien was so close that the darkness of his energy slid across her.

  "Jace is still the pack leader," Cash said evenly, his voice like razor-sharp steel. "I take orders from him."

  "Jace is in prison, so as his number two, it's my pack right now," Damien said. She felt his hand touch her back, but Cash swiftly stepped away.

  "My orders," Damien said, irritation crackling through his voice. "My call. Give me the body."

  There was a long moment of silence, and Bryn's heart started hammering. Sweat was streaming down her temples from the heat Cash was generating, nearly suffocating her.

  Finally, Cash spoke. "You're his number two only because I declined," Cash said, his voice so low it sounded almost like a growl. "If I decide to claim it, it's mine, so back off." Then he turned, and began to walk, his strides long and even as he walked away from Damien.

  Bryn strained to listen for footsteps, but she could hear nothing more than the continued groans of men, and the panting of the wolves.

  "Don't fuck with me, Cash," Damien called out.

  Cash didn't turn around, and he didn't slow down. "All healers shift and stabilize the injured ones to keep them alive until the paramedics arrive," he commanded. "Everyone else clear," he ordered. "Now."

  For a moment, no one responded, and then she heard Damien snap an order to the wolves. Instantly, the room was filled with the sound of thunder, a loud crash that made her jump, then suddenly, she heard the low conversation of men in discussion, hurried words and orders as they hustled to do Cash's bidding. Other wolves sprang into action, their toenails clicking on the floor as they raced toward the door.

  Cash turned sharply, away from the sounds, and the scent of blood and death became fainter. He moved faster, his body lithe and effortless as he sprinted down the stairs, still holding her tightly. She thought she heard the sound of canine toenails clicking on the steps, and she tried not to grunt as he ran, his shoulder digging into her belly.

  He shoved open a heavy door, and then she could hear the sounds of the sirens in the distance. Should she call for help? Was that better than letting Cash take her away in a quilt? But he'd kept her alive, and the police hadn't been able to accomplish that. She knew him. She could trust him...except he was clearly affiliated with the wolf pack that had savaged a woman in front of her and had attacked the men assigned to protect her. What the hell was going on?

  He set her down on something soft. "She's dead," he announced, loudly. "I got it."

  "I'm coming with you." It was the voice of another man, one she didn't recognize.

  Cash swore under his breath, but she heard the sounds of two car doors slamming, and then the engine roared to life. Damn. Someone else was in the car with them. The vehicle lurched forward, and she slid across the seat as they took off, slamming into the back of it. Her face was smashed against the back of the seat, and she could barely breathe, but she was afraid to move. Who else was in the car?

  Sweat was pouring down her forehead, stinging her eyes, and her arm was burning where she'd sliced it. Her lungs were aching with the need for oxygen, and she knew she was almost out of time. Her arms were pinned to her sides, and there was no way she could get out. She knew she had only a few minutes left until she suffocated. Cash needed to unwrap her, and fast.

  She closed her eyes, trying to calm her frantic heart and breathe quietly enough not to give herself away. What had she done, letting a man she hadn't seen in years entomb her while her police protectors were being assassinated? The truck skidded around a corner, dumping her off the seat onto the floor, but mercifully rolling her over so her face was no longer against the seatback, allowing her to breathe ever so slightly.

  "What happened back there?" The other man asked, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stay calm. If the passenger was someone Cash trusted, he would have unwrapped her by now. The fact she was still trussed up on the floor could mean only one thing: the man in the car with them wanted her dead.

  * * *

  Cash swore as he heard Bryn slide off the seat onto the floor as the SUV peeled around a corner. He knew he had to get her out of the comforter fast, or she'd suffocate. He was still reeling from his first sighting of her in over a decade. She still had the same blue eyes he remembered, but they weren't as innocent anymore. He hated the shadows he'd seen in them, and it had taken all his willpower to stand back and entomb her in the comforter when all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and shield her from all the nightmares haunting her, like he used to do.

  Except…his response to her was nothing like it had once been. She'd been his best friend, a girl he knew so well she was a part of him. She'd been his safe place, his source of strength, but it had never been sexual or romantic…but all that shit had gone flying out the window the moment he'd pulled her against him and felt the curves of her body, and realized that she'd become a woman. His entire body had gone hard and hot instantly, an instinctual, predatory response he hadn't been able to control.

  His moment with her had been so fast, so fleeting, but it had triggered something in him that was still searing through his veins. He could still feel her body against his. Her scent was wrapped around him, filling the car like some siren call that made him want to vault over the backseat, drag the comforter off her, and haul her into his arms and kiss her until the need pouring through him abated.

  "Cash." Drake London, his best friend, pierced his thoughts. "What the fuck went down at the hotel? I could hear the screams from the ground. I thought no one was supposed to get hurt, other than the girl." Drake was wearing black jeans, black boots, and a long-sleeved black tee shirt, dressed for the night, just like Cash. He'd been Cash's backup in case it turned out it had been a setup by Damien to take Cash out, which they'd both suspected.

  The hit had turned out to be legit, but it had still been dicey as hell at the end. Cash had been a breath from calling in Drake when Damien had reached for Bryn to claim her. He'd seen the bloodlust in Damien's eyes, and he knew the other man was barely holding power over his wolf.

  "I think Damien ordered them to attack," he said curtly, his mind moving at rapid speed. How the hell was he going to ditch Drake? He needed to get Bryn out of the comforter and fix her arm. He still couldn't believe she'd cut herself like that. His wolf had nearly taken control of him when she'd hurt herself. It had taken all his willpower to stay in control, when his wolf had been raging to protect her. What had she been thinking? His arm was already healing, but she was human and wouldn't heal like him. He needed to tend to her, and he couldn’t do that while Drake was in the car. It was too dangerous.

  "Damien ordered them to attack?" Drake frowned, his brow furrowed in disbelief as he braced his palm on the dash and turned around to watch the road behind them. "You're sure?"

  "Either that, or he let them go when they scented blood. Either way, he's responsible."

  "Damien's bad news."

  "No shit." Everyone knew that Damien always treaded close to the edge of bloodlust, but Jace Donovan, their alpha, always forced him to keep control. But Jace was currently locked up in prison awaiting the outcome of his trial.

  Drake glanced down at Bryn's inert body on the floor. "I can't believe you killed her."

  "Did my job." Cash hit the gas harder, flying down the winding road, heading deeper into the woods. He needed to put some space between himself and the rest of the pack, but he had to ditch Drake before he knew what was up. He scanned the road, looking for a place to unload his friend.

  "She was your girl," Drake observed, studying him thoughtfully. "You're too loyal to hurt anyone who matters to you."

  "It was a long time ago," he muttered, still cursing that Drake had been looking right at him the moment he'd found out the n
ame of the woman the pack was planning to assassinate. He and Drake had been together for more than a decade, a couple of fucked up kids who had scraped together a survival that neither of them deserved. Drake had been with him in those early days when he'd snuck back to Bryn's house to check on her while she was sleeping. He'd been afraid to let himself be alone with her, so he'd always brought Drake with him, with orders to do whatever it took to keep Cash from hurting her.

  Of course, Cash's need to protect had been strong enough that he'd never even been close to hurting her, but his need to bring Drake as a backup had given Drake an inside look at the life he'd kept private from everyone else. When Damien had announced Bryn was the target, Drake had realized instantly that it was the same girl that Cash had guarded when they were teens.

  "Maybe it was long ago, but it hasn't been long enough." Drake watched him, but Cash refused to look at him, scanning the woods up ahead. They were at least ten miles off the main road now, not far enough, but he was out of time. He had to get Bryn out of the damned quilt.

  He hit the brakes, and the SUV skidded to a stop.

  Drake raised one eyebrow. "What's up?"

  "Get out."

  His other eyebrow went up, and he didn't move. "Get out? Why?"

  "Just get out."

  A look of understanding dawned on Drake's face. "Son of a bitch. You didn't kill her, did you? Jesus, Cash. She's alive?" He glanced toward the backseat, his face lined with concern. "She's going to suffocate in there."

  "Get the fuck out. Now." Cash reached under the seat and pulled out Bryn's gun, pointing it at his best friend. "Silver bullets, my friend."

  Drake made no move toward the door. "I'm in. I'm with you. You know that."

  "I won't risk you. Damien will hunt me down when they realize what I did, and he's controlling the pack right now." Cash raised the gun to eye level. "I have a gun with a silver bullet. You have no choice." His gut was eating at him for pulling a gun on the person who'd stood by him since his life had gone to hell. He knew he could use Drake's help, but he wouldn't risk his friend's life.

  "They'll never believe that you would pull the trigger on me. And I don't either." Drake jerked his chin at the steering wheel. "Drive. Let's get the fuck out of here. Where are you planning to go?"

  Son of a bitch. "You don't understand," Cash said. "There's nowhere safe. I won't risk your life."

  Drake turned to look at him, and his eyes went cold. "I'm not going back without you, Cash. You're the only family I have. Put the fucking gun away and drive. I'll get her out." He went to lean over the backseat to grab Bryn, and Cash swore and pressed the gun against Drake's temple. "No."

  Drake went still, eyeing Cash. "Son of a bitch," he said softly. "You're serious."

  "I won't let you die because of my choice," Cash said. "Get the fuck out."

  "It's my choice." Drake reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. He flipped it open, moving slowly but intentionally. "While you're fucking around, she's dying back there. Shoot me if you want, but you risked everything to save her. Don't lose your shit now."

  "Shit! Drake—"

  His friend had already sliced open the comforter. Swearing, Cash set the gun on the dash and leaned over the backseat to help his friend strip the tattered remnants from Bryn. Her hair was damp with sweat, and her skin was flushed from the heat.

  Fear rippled through him, and Cash yanked the last piece from her face. "Bryn!"

  She sucked in a gasp, rolling onto her side. Guilt knifed through his gut when he saw her lying there, her arm cradled to her chest, her hair tangled and damp. It took every ounce of self-control not to leap into the back and pull her into his arms. He would have if Drake hadn't been there, watching with too much insight.

  She looked up at him, then her gaze flicked to Drake. There was so much fear in her eyes that he swore, fighting to suppress the need of his wolf to protect her. He didn't want to scare her even more by letting her see what he was. "It's okay, Bryn. I'll shoot him if he tries to hurt you." He held out his hand, keeping his voice gentle. "Come on. Let me help."

  She reached out, sliding her hand into his. Her hand was shaking, and for a split second, he was transported back to when they were kids, and he'd fished her out of a pond that she'd fallen into. Those same blue eyes, the same trust, the same trembling hand. He couldn't help but smile, and she smiled back, and for a brief second, the years vanished, and it was just them again, two lost kids counting on each other.

  Then she winced in pain, and he was back in the moment, back in the middle of a high-stakes race for survival. He helped her onto the backseat, grimacing at the amount of blood still oozing from the wound in her arm. "Shit. We need to get that fixed." He sliced a section of the comforter into strips, and bound her arm to stem the flow of blood. It was crude but fast, and he was aware of Drake beside him, continuously scanning their surroundings to make sure no one was sneaking up on them.

  Bryn said nothing, focused tightly on his work, her gaze occasionally flicking warily toward Drake. In less than two minutes, the wound was secure. He still needed to get it cleaned, but it would hold for now. She sank back against the seat, holding her arm to her chest, her shoulders slumped with weariness. Her tension had eased, however, and he knew that she was starting to trust him to keep her safe.

  "Hey." Drake grinned at her, extending his hand over the seat. "I'm Drake London, Cash's best friend. I'm his only friend, actually. The guy's not too social."

  She smiled back, faintly, warily, and shook his hand, contact that made Cash's wolf restless. Drake was his best friend, but he was also a male, and Cash's wolf didn't like him touching Bryn. "Cash has always been a loner," she said. "No one else would hang out with him except for me. You'd think he'd learn to be more popular in his old age, but I guess not."

  Drake grinned. "I like you. Welcome to the party."

  She smiled back. "Thanks. It seems like a great party. I'm thrilled to be here."

  Drake laughed, but Cash couldn't take his eyes off her as she spoke. Her voice drifted through him, throaty and feminine, just as he remembered...except it was more. She was a woman now, not a kid. Her cream-colored tank top was tight across her breasts, and he couldn't fail to notice that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were dark circles beneath the fabric, and the swells of her breasts were easily visible. Which meant that Drake would notice as well... Possessiveness roared through Cash, and he grabbed his leather jacket from the seat beside him and handed it to her. "Here."

  She raised her brows. "Thanks." She accepted it, draping it over her lap.

  Her lap.

  Not her breasts. Her fucking lap.

  "So, what now?" Drake asked. "Where to?"

  Cash realized he wasn't going to be able to dissuade Drake from being a part of the situation. "You're an ass," he said.

  Drake shrugged. "Live with it, buddy. What's the plan?"

  Cash flexed his hands on the steering wheel, thinking fast. Having Drake on his side gave them more options. "Tell Damien that you saw the body. That I ripped her up good. That I'm going to drop it on the courthouse steps on Thursday morning, when the building opens."

  Drake's brows shot up. "You want me to go back to them? Damien knows we're tight. He knows I'll lie for you. If he thinks you didn't kill her, my story isn't going to change his mind."

  Cash thought back to the way Damien had looked at him when he'd carried Bryn out, and he swore under his breath. "You're right. He has something going on. He'll come after me. I need to get Bryn to a safe place. Can you head him off and stall him?" He glanced in his mirror and saw Bryn's eyes widen. She looked over her shoulder, checking the dark woods.

  "We need to go," she said. "They'll be coming."

  "I know." He looked at Drake. "You in?"

  Drake looked at them both, then swore. "Fine, but keep in touch. Tell me where to meet up. I'm not staying with the pack without you and Jace."

  Cash wouldn't stay without Drake and Jace either. He nodded
. "You got it."

  Drake glanced back at Bryn. "Don't fuck him over, Bryn," he said softly, an edge to his voice. "He's risking everything for you."

  She met his gaze. "I would never hurt him."

  The steadiness of her voice made satisfaction rush through him. The bond they had was still there, maybe even stronger than it had once been. Urgency pulsed through him, the need to get her alone and away from the other male. "We need to go."

  Drake saluted him and got out of the truck. His face was grim when he looked back at Cash. No words needed to be spoken aloud, but the message was clear. Drake had his back until the end, but that end might be only hours away now, despite all their years of fighting for survival. Cash had risked it all for a girl.

  "I know," Cash said, acknowledging the unspoken sentiment. "Thanks. Watch your back."

  "Always." Drake stepped back and slammed the door shut. Cash didn't hesitate or look back. He just hit the gas, and the vehicle exploded forward, the tires spinning as he took off, Bryn's life solely in his hands now.

  Chapter Three

  "HOW ARE YOU doing, Bryn?" Cash asked as he pulled out onto the road, leaving Drake standing on the edge of the woods. He hit the gas, the SUV leaping forward as they hurtled down the winding road. "Come up front."

  His voice was exactly as Bryn remembered, so familiar, and yet, at the same time, so different. It was harder now. Colder. More dangerous. She still couldn't believe he'd pointed a gun at Drake. The boy she'd known would never have done that. She didn't move from her seat. "Where have you been for thirteen years?"

  He met her gaze in the rearview mirror, and she saw a flash of pain in his eyes. It was gone almost immediately, replaced by an impenetrable wall that had never been there before. Then he shook his head. "How bad is your arm?" he asked, not answering her question.

  "Bad, I think. The blade went deeper than I intended." What had she been thinking, slicing her arm open? The whole scene from the hotel was surreal, a horror flick that had left a coating of filth on her. So much blood. The screams. She'd known those men who'd been assigned to protect her. "Did they all die? Are they dead, because of me?"