by Unknown
Sam led the way out of the cabin. Halfway to the car, I remembered Colt’s sword. I knew instinctively that he wouldn’t want to be without it. A sword seemed a unique weapon, one that was an extension of personality as well as armament. I whirled around and ran back toward the cabin.
“Arabelle!”
“One minute!”
I shoved through the door, adrenaline and fear twining around my heart like choking vines. My heart squeezed and squeezed as I kicked away debris and dug through shredded furniture and bloodied cushions. I hated being in this room with its bad memories and dreadful carnage. I rummaged near the hearth, peering through what used to be the couch when I caught a dull gleam by one of the dead werewolves.
Lodged beneath the large carcass was Colt’s sword. Colt must’ve killed them with his blade before shifting into a werewolf. He would’ve been attacked by what … three werewolves? Four? If Sara was part of the plot, Kelt had probably released her so she could help kill Colt.
I saw the black scabbard discarded near the bed. That was probably where Colt had transformed—and by the state of the tattered clothes nearby, he’d transformed quickly.
I tucked the scabbard under my arm. Then I grabbed the sword’s handle and lifted it. The blade was lighter than I had assumed and I managed to carry it upright, like I was holding a flag. When I got to the car, Sam took the sword and its leather holder from me. The back door was opened, and Grey waited patiently, holding tightly to the wounded werewolf.
I scurried inside. Grey bent down, and with me holding Colt’s massive shoulders and scooting backwards, we managed to get the huge wolf somewhat settled onto the leather seat. His big head rested in my lap. His breathing was so ragged, I worried every shuddering breath could be his last.
Sam put the sword and scabbard in the trunk, and then he and Grey got into the front. Within seconds, we were flying down the mountain, tires squealing, and Grey cursing.
I clutched at Colt and prayed.
“GOTTA LOVE VEGAS,” said Grey as we pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour veterinary emergency clinic. “Sam, get the car gassed up and meet us back here. We’re going straight to Bleed City after we get Colt taken care of.”
With my help, Grey wrestled Colt out of the car. I felt utterly ridiculous striding into the clinic clad only in a dirty silk nightie, my arms and legs bruised from the battering my body had taken over the last couple of days. I could only imagine the state of my hair.
A woman in pink scrubs stood behind the glass check-in counter. She was tall and lithe, her skin the color of cinnamon-flecked cream. Her blonde hair was done up in a French braid. I felt like I was looking at the Swiss Miss featured on those hot chocolate packets. When she saw us, she didn’t blink. It was Las Vegas, after all, the city of the strange and unusual.
“What’s the story?” she asked. She stood up and studied the three of us. I wondered where a woman in a soiled nightgown and a man carrying an oversized injured wolf fell on her scale of weird.
Grey looked at me, his expression one of panic.
“We’re on our honeymoon,” I blurted. “We have a cabin up at Mount Charleston. We heard … um, noises outside.”
“I went to investigate,” added Grey. “I found him. He’s got some cuts, and I think he’s lost a lot of blood.”
She lifted a blonde brow. “I see.” She reached under the counter, and we heard a buzzing sound. “Let’s go to exam room three.”
GREY PUT COLT onto the metal examination table. Swiss Miss slid on a pair of plastic gloves.
“You’re the doctor?” asked Grey.
“Yes. My name’s Lisa Pearson. I know he’s a shifter,” she said as she began examining his wounds. “You want to tell me what really happened?”
“He got into a fight,” said Grey.
Lisa snorted and rolled her eyes. “You werewolves give a new definition to ‘succinct.’ He’s got bites from fangs and slashes from claws. What’d the other guy look like?”
“Like he was dead,” said Grey.
“Hmm.”
“Are you a shifter, too?” I asked. As a citizen of Bleed City, werewolves were par for the course. While I knew there were other shifter species, I had never met another kind.
Lisa nodded. “Werebear. You’re lucky you got me instead of the other vet. He’s a human, and he would’ve called animal control. Beck’s a rulebook nerd.” She jerked her head toward the wolf. “So, what’s his name?”
“Colt. He’s my brother,” said Grey. “We’re Shadow Pack. I’m Grey Burke, the alpha.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “This is my wife, Arabelle.”
“Good to meet you.” Lisa stepped back, her gloves now bloody and her expression grim. “I’ll need to take X-rays. He appears to have some broken ribs. You were right—he’s lost a lot of blood. He might have some internal bleeding. He definitely needs stitches, and he probably needs surgery.”
“I can give you blood for a transfusion,” said Grey.
“Good. I’ll call in one of my nurses—she only lives a few minutes away. And she’s a werefox, so you don’t need to worry about her discretion.”
Werebears. Werefoxes. Werewolves. How many other kinds of shifters existed? I supposed it was a question for another day, when we weren’t fighting for our lives.
After the werefox nurse, who was small-boned and had ginger hair, arrived and took blood from Grey, she went to prep Colt for X-rays and then surgery.
“There’s not a lot you can do for him,” said Lisa as she led us back to the small lobby. “It’s probably best to go home. I’ll call you when I’m done stitching him back together.”
“Will he be okay?” I asked.
“Shifters have amazing regenerative abilities. But sitting here and worrying about him won’t help at all.”
“I can’t leave him alone,” said Grey. “He’s not safe.”
“Look, if you guys are in trouble—”
“Nothing we can’t handle,” interrupted Grey smoothly. “It’s pack business.”
Lisa considered Grey for a long moment then she nodded as if she’d made a decision. “My brothers are werebears, and they have a bodyguard business,” she said. “Pearson Security. They’re really good at protecting people—and shifters.”
“They’re hired,” said Grey. “I want Colt to have someone guarding him twenty-four-seven.”
Lisa made a phone call and within minutes she returned to the lobby. “Gabe’s coming himself. He’s the oldest, and he’s a bad ass.” She paused. “Don’t tell him I said that. I try not to encourage the growth of his already sizable ego. Even so, trust me. No one who isn’t me or the nurse will get near Colt—at least not with their arms still intact.”
“Excellent.” Grey reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a credit card. “For your services and that of your brother’s. Keep it. Give Colt everything he needs.” He handed her his business card next. “You can reach me at this number.”
“Okay.” She looked us over. “You guys look like hell. Try to get some rest. Your friend’s in good hands.”
“Thank you,” said Grey.
WE SLIPPED INTO the back seat of the Mercedes. Sam turned around and offered me a plastic bag. “The gas station was attached to a souvenir shop,” he said. “I found a T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. They didn’t have a big selection, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with Vegas tourist apparel.”
“Thank you,” I said. “That was very thoughtful.”
“Good thinking, Sam,” said Grey. He patted my leg. “Go ahead and change, sweetheart.”
I looked at him, horrified.
He lifted an eyebrow. “What?”
“I can’t just … just change.” I lowered my voice. “I’ll be naked.”
“Oh. Well, don’t worry. Sam won’t look—will you, Sam?”
“No, sir.”
Grey smiled. “See?”
“What about you?” I asked in a furious whisper.
“Oh, I’m gonna
look,” he said. “Let’s go, Sam. Stay off the Strip if you can.”
“No problem.” He pulled out of the clinic’s parking lot and began winding the Mercedes through the back streets of Vegas.
I took the items from the plastic bag, which included a mini-hairbrush and a scrunchie. God bless Sam. My hair must’ve looked a true fright if he’d thought to pick up the tools needed to fix the mess. Either that, or he understood the love-hate relationship most women had with their hair.
I spied a pair of pink-stripped runner’s shorts that would probably cover my derriere—if I was lucky. I shimmied them on under my nightgown and put the flip-flops on my feet.
Grey stared at me, a smirk hovering on his lips as I tried everything to not get completely naked. Finally, I had no choice but to draw the blue silk over my head. My heart thudded in my chest. I’d been naked with him only hours before, but my skin heated as my upper torso and breasts were exposed to Grey’s greedy view.
“Do you need any help?” he asked huskily. His gaze roved over me with such heat, my nipples beaded and my skin prickled.
“No, thank you,” I said primly as I tugged on the black baby doll shirt. The graphic, glittered with pink and white crystals, proclaimed, “I Lost My Heart in Vegas.”
Well, I nearly had. No thanks to Rick.
“Nothing like truth in advertising,” I muttered. I stuffed the nightgown into the bag. Then I used the hairbrush, drawing the bristles through my tangled locks until my hair was smooth enough to wrangle into the scrunchie. I tossed the hairbrush in with the tattered nightie and put the bag onto the floor.
“You’re beautiful, Arabelle.”
I looked at Grey, my first instinct to argue with his compliment, but in his eyes I found sincerity. He looked at me as though I was the most revered art piece at the Louvre. How could I allow my womanly insecurities to ruin his praise?
“Thank you,” I said. “You’re very sweet.”
He looked away, staring out the window for a long moment. He turned once again to face me. “If Kelt is successful and becomes alpha of the Shadow Pack, I’ll become an outcast—or I’ll be killed.”
My heart turned over in my chest. “Killed?”
“I’m an alpha, Arabelle. Some are born to the privilege—and others take it. Kelt is trying to take it. If he succeeds, pack law is on his side. If I’m not strong enough to repel his attack and keep the reins of Shadow Pack leadership, I’m no better than a scruffer. I’ll lose the respect of those I’m supposed to protect and lead.”
“He won’t win,” I said.
“If he does … you will not have to honor your obligation to me,” he said. “In fact, you should take your family and disappear. I’ll give you the funds you need. It’s the only way to ensure that you and your loved ones stay safe.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Grey must’ve been truly rattled to consider the possibility that the Shadow Pack would accept a liar, betrayer, and murderer as their alpha. Someone who took leadership by force intended to rule by fear. The pack would do as Kelt said, as he demanded, because otherwise they risked their lives and the lives of their families. Kelt was a despot. With him at the helm, the Shadow Pack would become as chaotic and fractured as the Blood Pack.
“You’re my husband,” I said softly. “I stand with you.”
“You’re brave and strong. Your duty and integrity guide your decisions. You are amazing.” His gaze offered me such tenderness. “But, sweetheart, if Kelt wins he’ll make sure that neither one of us sees the light of day again.” Grey cupped my face and swept his thumb over my jaw. My flesh tingled where he touched me. “I’m giving you your freedom. You can go somewhere—anywhere you like—with your parents. Return to school. Live the life that Carolyn stole from you. Fall in love with someone of your own choosing.”
If I had gotten this offer a mere two days ago, I might well have grabbed onto it and ran, never looking back. Yet, I’d had a taste of the life that could be mine with Grey. I had mated with him, and I was bound to him not only in body, but in soul. He was a good man. He’d rather let me go and suffer the consequences of Kelt’s betrayal alone than risk my life.
But that risk, that choice was mine. And not even my alpha husband could take it from me.
“I stand with you,” I said firmly.
He stared at me for such a long time I began to squirm under his scrutiny. Finally, he let go of me. “You have the heart of a werewolf, Arabelle.” He pulled out his cell phone. “Call your parents. Tell them to get out of town and go to the Drift Resort in Vegas. They can stay in my suite, and I’ll arrange for Pearson Security to send a bodyguard to ensure their safety.”
My parents didn’t answer their home phone, and with panic creeping across me, I tried Mom’s cell phone. My mother picked up on the second ring. “Arabelle! Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m with Grey,” I said. “Are you and Daddy all right?”
“Yes. We’re holed up at Aunt Lila’s with some of the other townsfolk. We initiated the emergency phone tree, but only a couple of dozen got the warning. The werewolves are holding everyone else at the library. What’s going on?”
The fear in my mother’s voice chilled me to the core. She was whispering, and I had a vision of her hunkered down in some dark room with other scared families, waiting for help.
“Mom, I love you. Everything’s going to be all right. Now, give Aunt Lila the phone. Grey needs to speak with her.” As I handed him the phone, I noticed my hand shook. I threaded my fingers together and laid them in my lap. I knew Grey had noticed the tremors, and I was glad he hadn’t said anything comforting. I felt like the smallest act of kindness might shatter the courage I’d knitted from ragged remnants. However, I would punch him in the face if he said another word about severing our marital bond.
What Grey couldn’t understand, what I didn’t really understand myself, was that he was my only buoy in this raging storm. I clung to him because I knew he would save me—from Kelt, yes, but also from loneliness. The ache that had been part of my life since Carolyn’s suicide had disappeared the moment I lay in Grey’s arms. I could have no more an adventurous life than one lived as the mate of an alpha werewolf.
These were the thoughts that swirled in my mind, useless really, but I couldn’t fathom what would happen in the next few hours. I was terrified for my parents—for all of Bleed City. And for Grey—Grey who had the most lose, including his own life, if Kelt wasn’t stopped.
Kelt wasted no time taking control of the small town and its citizens. He’d already rounded them up like war criminals. The fear I’d been attempting to hold at bay spiderwebbed through my chest, making it hurt. What if Kelt didn’t stop with the Shadow Pack? He’d been plotting with the beta of the Blood Pack … what if Kelt attacked them next?
What was his ultimate goal?
As I wrestled with my own thoughts, Grey spoke in a low murmur to Aunt Lila. He finished the conversation and pocketed the phone.
“Several werewolves loyal to me escaped the compound and managed to get to Aunt Lila’s. They saved as many townspeople as they could before Kelt started rounding them up. It’s a goddamned mess.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Everything we can.” Grey looked at me. “I want to tell you all will be well. I want to give you comfort.”
“I prefer the truth,” I said. “Comfort has its time and place, of course. But now, now we need to assess, plan, and implement.”
“You’re a practical woman.” He leaned over and whispered, “I find that a very sexy attribute.”
My face burned with embarrassment. Mercy! I really needed to get used to Grey’s compliments, no matter how ribald. He was my husband, after all. He chuckled as he placed his hand over my clasped ones. “We’ll get through this, Arabelle. Now, why don’t you rest? No one will be sleeping much once we get to Bleed City.”
I didn’t think I would get even a wink, but I underestimated my own mental and physical exha
ustion. It seemed that Grey’s suggestion to sleep was all that I needed as I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
In no time at all, I’d drifted off.
14
I DREAMED OF the ocean. I’d never seen the Pacific—never gone outside the borders of Nevada—yet I stood on the beach, my toes digging into cool, wet sand. Night clung to the water and to the sky, clutching both in slippery black folds. A curl of moon hung in the midnight sky, the only light in an otherwise stygian world.
I stared into the distance, waiting. For what, I wasn’t sure.
The ocean began to churn and the ground beneath my feet shook. There came a horrible, screeching roar and in it, the cries of a familiar voice.
Grey.
Noooo! Sweetheart! Arabelle!
I awoke to Grey reaching across me and unsnapping my seatbelt. He shoved open the door. “We have to go. Hurry!”
I barely had time to process that the car wasn’t moving before Grey pushed my shoulder to get me going. I scrambled out, the flimsy flip-flops nearly tripping me. Grey clambered out of the car after me. I could see now that the Mercedes had not stopped of its own accord. The luxury vehicle rested at an angle across the two-lane highway, the front tires flat. In the driver’s seat, Sam slumped over the steering wheel.
“Sam!” I moved toward him, but Grey hauled me back.
“He’s dead. They shot the tires and then him.”
My stomach pitched. Oh, Sam.
Grey grasped my hand and tugged me along. I pulled out of his grip. “I have to get Colt’s sword.”
“I’ll open the trunk.” Grey ran to the driver’s side and reached through the busted window.
I went to the rear of the Mercedes. The second the trunk popped open, I reached inside and grabbed the sword and the black leather scabbard. Grey took the items from me, and together, we walked quickly away from the Mercedes and into the bleached unknown of the Nevada desert. By the time we stopped, the road we’d left behind was only a dark squiggle in the dirty sand.