Caught in Forbidden

by Keira Blackwood

  “I can come back in two days,” I offered as we went back upstairs

  “That soon? That’d be great, thank you!”

  “No problem. I should—” I gestured for the door. I was ready to put my feet up and call it a day.

  “Take another cookie with you.” Daphne held out the plate.

  No sane man would ever say no to one of Daphne’s cookies, so I gladly accepted and headed back out to my car.

  A truck flew up the drive, headlights bouncing. I stopped by my car door and watched as the truck skidded to a halt beside me.

  The doors burst open as soon as it was parked, and I could hear the agitated voices before I got a glimpse of who was there.

  “You are never ever allowed to eat beans again.” Moira half-laughed, half-gagged as she slammed the passenger door shut.

  “Me?” Brody shook his head. “You can’t blame it on someone else when there’s just two of us.”

  “Just wind down the window, stop anywhere along the side of the road, and stick your rotten-egg-smelling ass out into the wind so I don’t have to smell it.”

  “Hey,” I said with a small wave, before shimmying around to my seat and wishing I hadn’t waited to see who was here.

  “Hey, Matt,” Brody said. “PSA. Don’t road trip with Moira or you’ll never get the smell out.”

  “It wasn’t me!”

  “I’m just going to—” I shut the door and slowly backed my car away.

  Crisp autumn air poured through the open window as I drove back toward town. Two good things had come out of my visit to the B&B. One—cookies. Two—Moira and Brody had successfully distracted me from the stress of my day.

  I looked up at the near-full moon that hung large in the cloudless sky. It looked bigger than usual, like it belonged in a painting or—

  A flash of movement in the road caught my attention. It was something large—human large. My heart racing in my chest, I swerved. Pants, black hoodie—definitely a person—he dove to the side. My tires bounced off-road. I hit the brakes and threw my truck into park, then climbed out.

  Did I hit him? I searched the road, frantically looking for the person. The metallic scent of blood tinged the air.

  A hand lay on the blacktop, small, unmoving. I ran closer, following the form over the small slope. I knelt down. There was a heartbeat, thank god. Tight jeans, curvy thighs, oversized hoodie that fit over the swell of full breasts. Strawberry-blond hair splayed out around her head. Her temple was stained red beside a large rock where she must have fallen while trying to dodge my car. Her features were delicate, and her eyes were closed. She was beautiful. She was human. And she was alive.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get you help.” I pulled my phone from my pocket.

  She grabbed my wrist and her eyes flickered open, only to shut once more. The scent of fear mixed with soft notes of jasmine. “No hospitals.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Are you in some kind of trouble?” Aside from almost getting run over?

  Her chest rose and fell, but she didn’t say another word.

  Something inside me flipped like a switch. Whoever this woman was, she needed my help. And I knew when I looked at her, she was my mate.

  Chapter 3

  Cordelia

  Unfamiliar sheets and a killer headache reminded me of my college years.

  But I wasn’t in college. My immediate worry was that I was in some kind of holding cell, and my heart thumped rapidly until I realized this wasn’t a cell; I was in some stranger’s house. I patted down my body, checking for my hoodie and jeans. The hoodie was gone, but my long-sleeved top was in place, as were my bra and pants. My shoes were off. Socks were on. My body didn’t feel messed with; it felt just as grimy as it had before.

  And here I was mucking up someone’s bed.

  This wasn’t a hospital—the room held the scents of grassy earth. Maybe a hint of almond. Very manly. I sat up to look around. The light coming through the window could’ve been morning or late afternoon from the way it slanted. I’d guess morning, given the chill in the air. A dresser sat on one side of the room with a framed picture of a mountain landscape perched on top, and a single nightstand rested on one side of the bed, with a lamp on it. My filthy hoodie was folded up at the foot of the bed, on top of a dark blue and green quilt.

  As I was looking around, the sexiest man on the planet walked into the room.

  “Oh good, you’re awake,” he said.

  His voice was deep and rippled through me like silk on skin. He had short, neatly trimmed dark hair that made me wonder if he had some kind of military background. The way he carried himself, and those massive shoulders, made me think he’d rock bootcamp. He wore gray sweats and a white t-shirt. His gray eyes creased at the corners as he smiled at me.

  Hello, Adonis. I’d been hit by a car, died, and come straight to heaven.

  “Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

  I could only nod. Whatever headache I’d been feeling before, it was forgotten now.

  Still, I had to get control over myself. Hot or not, this guy had brought me to his freaking house instead of to a hospital. The bedroom seemed a lot smaller all of a sudden, especially after spending two weeks in the woods.

  “I made you some toast and eggs,” he said. “It’s not much, but I’m shitty in the kitchen. Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding before I remembered my headache. I winced. “I’m starving.”

  Before I could stand up, he came back with a tray. Scrambled eggs, two slices of toast, and a sliced apple sat on a plate. There was even a glass of water and a glass of juice.

  “Wow,” I said, “thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away. I hadn’t had a hot meal in two weeks. “Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked.

  “Sure, I’ll bring in my plate. Do you want some coffee?”

  “No thanks.” I hated the stuff; it gave me migraines.

  He left, giving me a good chance to ogle his ass, which looked perfect under the pair of sweats he was wearing. Returning a moment later, he held a plate with eggs and toast. He gestured to mine. “Well, is it okay?”

  I put a forkful of eggs in my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “It’s perfect.”

  Nodding, he took a bite, too. When he was finished swallowing, he smiled. “I’ve gone about this bass ackwards. I’m Matt Schneider. I’m a police officer here in Forbidden.”

  “Hi, Matt. I’m Cordelia.” I didn’t want to give him any details. The shifters of Redemption might have gotten in touch with the local Forbidden pack, who would have gotten in touch with Forbidden’s law enforcement.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said. “Are you from around here?”

  “I’m from out of town.”

  He waited, as if hoping I’d expand on that, but I didn’t.

  “Wait, why am I here, anyway?” I asked. “If I thought I hit someone, I’d take them to the hospital, not to my house.”

  “You said no hospitals,” he said simply.

  He looked like he might want to ask me more questions, but I shoveled food into my mouth as quickly as possible, hoping it would dissuade conversation. As soon as my plate was empty, I stood up. “Which way to the kitchen?”

  “I’ll take the plate for you,” he said with a heartstopping grin.

  “Thanks.” I looked down at my clothes and plucked at the edge of my long-sleeved shirt. “So, I know you just did me a huge favor by bringing me here and giving me breakfast, but could I ask one more favor?”

  “Sure thing.” His eyes twinkled.

  I thought of changing my request from “let me take a shower” to “let me take off your clothes,” but I shook off my inner perv and said, “Do you think I could use your shower?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, pointing to the door at the side of the room. “Towels are under the sink. Looks like your clothes got pretty dirty in your fall. If you leave them on the floor in her
e, I’ll grab them while you’re in the shower and put them through the wash.”

  That was tactful of him, to say they got dirty in the fall. They were filthy as hell after all my time in the woods.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He left the room. I stripped out of the stinky clothes as quickly as possible, balling them up in my hoodie. Then I practically ran to the bathroom and started the water. A shower. A real shower, with soap and shampoo.

  Matt’s shampoo smelled like eucalyptus. I held the bottle to my nose and inhaled before lathering up my hair. Once I was clean, I dried off and realized a crucial miscalculation in the clothes department. If he was washing my dirty clothes, what was I going to wear? I couldn’t walk around town, looking for my mom’s old friend, in a freaking towel.

  “Hey, Matt?” I called.

  No answer.

  Sighing, I wrapped the towel around me and tucked it in as securely as possible before venturing out of the bathroom and into his room. I entered at the exact same time he did.

  His gaze immediately went to my chest, but he brought it back up to my face. He went to his dresser. “Hey, you called for me?”

  “Yeah, I was just wondering what I should wear.”

  He shot me another look, so I glanced down to make sure my goodies were all hidden. I was covered, mostly.

  He cleared his throat. “I have a shirt and some sweats you can borrow while your clothes are in the wash. Sorry I didn’t think about that before.”

  He didn’t sound entirely sincere. If our situations were reversed and I’d seen him come out of the bathroom, fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and droplets of water fanning down his chest… I forced my brain to abort the fantasy.

  “Nice ink,” he said.

  Oh. That was why he kept glancing at my chest. The geometric design—a circle with a triangle inside of it—held a rune in the center. I didn’t know what it meant, and I didn’t care. The tattoo had been with me since I was a teenager. I’d thought of having new ink put over it, to change the design as a final fuck-you to my mother, but it would be expensive and I hadn’t come up with anything else I’d rather see nestled between my boobs.

  “Gift from my mom,” I said simply. Easier to say that than tell him my witch of a mother had forced me to get a tattoo before I turned fourteen.

  He straightened up from the dresser, a shirt and sweats in his arms. “Found some things for you.”

  “Thanks.” I wanted to reach forward to take them, but I was also afraid of letting go of this towel.

  We each took a step toward each other. A drop of water fell from my hair and down the back of my neck to my spine. Matt’s gaze went darker, with the kind of heat I knew I wasn’t misinterpreting. The air in the room felt charged.

  He tossed the clothes on the bed and took another step toward me. He was so close, if I reached out, I could run my hands over his chest, feel the hard ridges of his muscles.

  His attention went to my mouth. I wanted his kiss, more than anything.

  Movement in my periphery caught my attention, though, along with the sound of a car door slamming. Turning to glance out the bedroom window, I saw a black Jeep just like Axel’s.

  They’d found me.

  I clutched the towel tighter and went for the clothes on the bed. I had to get out of here. How had they found me?

  “What’s wrong?” Matt asked.

  “Did you tell them?” I said.

  “Tell who?”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. I thought I heard heavy footsteps, but I couldn’t be sure. My throat felt full and my fingers tingled. No, not now. This would be a dead giveaway that there was a witch in the house. I had to keep my power controlled.

  “Cordelia,” Matt said, “hang on, it’s okay. Let me help you.”

  Fear clogged my thoughts. The lamp on the nightstand rose in the air and Matt shouted a curse. The blankets lifted, too, caught in the beginnings of an indoor tornado.

  “What the fuck!” Matt shouted, going into a crouch but reaching for me at the same time. “Cordelia, get down!”

  Heavier things were moving around the room—my sneakers, the framed picture of mountains. The drawers came out of the dresser. One smacked into the side of Matt’s head and he fell. Drops of blood splattered on the hardwood floor.

  The wind grew in strength and ripped my towel away from my body. Matt held his head and crawled toward me, reaching for my hand. Was he going to keep me here while Axel brought back-up? I looked outside again, afraid to see more cars behind Axel’s Jeep.

  But then a detail on the Jeep caught my eye—one of those yellow window decals that said “Baby On Board.”

  This wasn’t Axel’s Jeep. Axel wasn’t here. I’d created a terror tornado for no reason at all.

  The wind began to die down.

  “Wait,” Matt said, “you’re doing this?”

  I sagged against the wall next to the window, not even caring that I was completely naked. I had to get more control over myself and stop the magic.

  But then I heard a click and felt cold metal on my wrist.

  I looked down to see Matt. He yanked me over to the bed and put the other handcuff on the bedpost. I screeched and another drawer flew out of the dresser, joining the other things in the air.

  Matt’s forehead was no longer bleeding. Only a shifter could heal that quickly.

  “You’re—you’re one of them,” I said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, pulling a blanket from the air and shoving it at me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I need you to chill out and stop doing this.”

  “Trapping me is only going to make me panic more. And you’re—you’re a shifter.”

  He stared at me. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Your forehead is healed already.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

  I shook my head and yanked on the handcuff locking me to the bed. My tornado was no longer picking up speed, but it wasn’t dying down, either. Good. I hoped something else would clock him in the head.

  As if sensing my intent, he crouched low to the floor and dashed out of the bedroom.

  “Come back here and let me go, you asshole!” I yelled.

  Chapter 4

  Matt

  Shit flew everywhere. One of my shoes whizzed right past my head, and the mirror rattled and fell from its place above my dresser.

  I couldn’t get the hell out of there fast enough.

  Safely outside of the room, I shut the door and leaned against it.

  No hospitals. I’d known she was trouble.

  Now I knew why. Cordelia had to be the fugitive the Redemption pack had called Declan about a few weeks back. What was it that he’d said about the call? I couldn’t remember.

  “Where exactly did you say you were from, Cordelia?” I said into the crack of the door, loud enough that I knew she could hear me.

  “I didn’t.” Her voice was sharp, all notes of gratitude long gone.

  I should have taken her to the hospital. Except the ache in my chest was a constant reminder that she was meant to be mine. My problem.

  At least she’d told me her real name. She might not be telling me much, but she hadn’t lied. She knew I was a shifter, so she knew I could tell.

  My head ached where she’d hit me with the drawer, and that was the least of my problems. I needed to talk to Declan, but like an idiot, I wasn’t ready to hand Cordelia over yet.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and paced the hall. A quick call to work and I was successfully using one of the sick days I’d never had reason to touch before. I felt a little guilty about it, but my human coworkers regularly used their days, and I wasn’t leaving them shorthanded.

  “You’re just going to leave me cuffed to your bed naked? Pretty skeezy move, don’t you think?”

  “Stop the poltergeist shit and—” I almost said I’d uncuff her. Stupid move. “I�
�ll come back in.”

  “It’s not me.”

  She was quiet for a minute, likely reflecting on the clear-as-day lie she’d just told me.

  “It’s not something I can control,” she said, the fight draining from her voice. “It just happens. I swear.”

  Truth.

  Was it too much to ask that whatever trouble she was in was beyond her control? Probably. But I wanted to believe that.

  “Who are you running from?” I asked.

  Silence.

  “What kind of trouble are you in?”

  “I never said I was in trouble.”

  I laughed.

  “Are you going to stand out there playing bad cop and stupid cop, or are you going to come back in here and let me go?”

  She wasn’t going to talk to me, not really. And I needed answers if I was going to figure out my next move. I knew just where to start.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I said. “Try not to break anything else while I’m gone.”

  “You’re just going to leave me like this?”

  A pang of guilt hit me like a punch in the gut. I couldn’t very well let her go. I headed down the hall, hoping that I was making the right call. Funny thing—I always knew what the right thing was. Moral Compass was my nickname in highschool. Not really, but it might as well have been.

  Cordelia sent that compass needle spinning, sent my senses reeling, and crashed through my life like a wrecking ball. I hoped there was something left when she was through.

  I threw on my shoes by the door and hopped into my truck.

  If Declan had heard any more details from Redemption about Cordelia, he’d tell his brothers. I couldn’t ask the alpha himself without raising his suspicions, but I could ask Finn.

  This morning he was bound to be at the hangar tinkering with his Cessna.

  From the road I spotted Pearl’s truck parked in the Eden Groceries lot. I swung by and picked up a variety bag of doughnut holes before heading out toward the edge of town. It was a short drive, and sure enough, Finn’s truck was parked in the lot.

  Even better, George wasn’t here. George was like a brother to me, just as much as Finn was, but since George was human, it was easier to talk shifter business when he wasn’t around.