The Pack or the Panther

by Tara Lain

  He’d waited so long. Planned so carefully. No strangers were going to deny him what was his. All he needed was for Anthony to make one mistake. Maybe tonight?

  Chapter Eleven

  Paris paced the dressing room. He could use a drink. That damned wolf turned him inside out. He looked at his watch. Another hour before the club closed. Before it was safe to shift, go out through his secret hole, and get home. Until then, he stayed out of the halls, away from the humans.

  He threw himself into the comfortable chair and picked up a book. Shit! He jumped up. All he could smell was sex. Puppy sex. The very best kind.

  He walked to the dressing table and fiddled with his jars and sticks of makeup. Maybe he could ask Helena to bring him something. A glass of champagne would be nice. It might calm him down.

  He started to the door, then stopped. He never went out of his dressing room after a show. As far as anyone knew, he left immediately after performing, or he lived in the dressing room. Keep ’em guessing. That’s how he’d managed to maintain a life separate from the pack and the rest of the world for years. And the solitude was fine with him—except when he saw the damned wolf. Cole made him yearn for shit. Shit he couldn’t have and knew he would hate if he got it.

  He walked back to the chair and sat. Just read until the club closes. Calm down. He picked up a book of poetry and flipped to Tagore. He usually did the trick.

  That vague fragrance made my heart ache with longing, and it seemed to me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.

  I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.

  Damn! He threw the book across the room, rushed to the door, and threw it open. The hall lights had dimmed. Close to closing. “Helena? Are you here? Could you get me something?” He stepped out and looked toward the entrance to the club. “Helena?”

  The voice came from behind him. “Did you need something, Anthony?”

  “Oh, yes, I—” He turned. A human. Had he ever seen him before? “Sorry. I was looking for Helena.”

  The big man smiled. “I’ll be glad to find her for you.”

  Shit. Human smell. What—?

  The hand with the heavy cloth came over his head and across his nose. Sharp, acrid odor filled his lungs. Limbs heavy. Falling. What had he done? Cole. Cole.

  * * *

  Ow. His belly bumped hard against someone’s shoulder.

  “Be careful with him, you idiots.”

  Paris knew that voice. He’d heard it outside the door of his dressing room when he was pretending to be gone. Eliazer. Nikel Eliazer.

  Soft light filtered through some kind of bag over his head. Someone was carrying him like a rug over their shoulder. Where the hell was he? He sniffed. Carpet, wood polish, soap, and perfume. It had to be a house or residence, not a club or commercial space.

  “Put him there.”

  Look asleep. He relaxed his body as it flew through the air and landed on a soft surface. Probably a bed. Shit. He wanted to jump up. No way was he lying on any bed with Eliazer around. He’d seen the way the man looked at him. But if he just stayed still, he might learn something.

  Footsteps moved around the room. Eliazer spoke. “You did well. Send me your bill and I’ll have a bonus for you.”

  The human who had spoken to Paris in the hall answered, “Thank you, sir. We appreciate that.” More shuffling, then the sound of the door closing.

  A soft beeping sound. A phone? Eliazer spoke again. “The two humans just left. Kill them. I want no one alive who knows where Anthony is—except you and the other guards, of course. You’ve chosen them with care, I assume? Good.”

  Paris shivered. Try to stay still.

  More footsteps. The cloth moved over his face. Very gently it was stripped away. Bright light shone through his eyelids. He moaned a little for effect.

  A hand touched his hair softly. “There, there, my baby. I know this has been awful for you. But it’s all over. No one will hurt you anymore. Nothing bad will happen to you—ever again.”

  Paris shuddered.

  * * *

  Cole leaned forward in the guest chair in front of his father’s desk and rested his elbows on his knees. Landon had said wait here. He waited. God, he felt beat up, internally and externally. If he could get this done, somehow help make the pack safe, he could leave. Get the hell out of Dodge. Find a new life. He glanced over at Lindsey in the other chair. What a good friend. Maybe he’d tell Linds where he was when he finally found a new place to settle. Just Lindsey. No one else.

  Linds looked up and smiled. He reached out a hand and massaged the back of Cole’s neck a couple of times. “I know you don’t want to talk about last night, darling. But I’m offering advice anyway. That cat is something special to you. I think you need to go back and try to work something out.”

  “He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “From the smell of you last night, I’d say that isn’t true. He just doesn’t want anything to do with the rest of us.” He chuckled. “So wake up, darling. Do something for yourself for a change.”

  Landon’s voice called out to someone down the hall as he walked in the door. “Sorry to keep you waiting, boys.” He sat behind his desk. “So how did it go?”

  Cole straightened. “We saw Eliazer. Armed and dangerous. The wolf reeks of blood.”

  Lindsey nodded. “And he also has a passion for Paris Marketo.”

  Landon leaned forward. “What?”

  Cole sat back. “Paris told me when he was here that Eliazer gives him huge tips and comes in often to watch his show. He didn’t think anything of it. But I smelled lust on him way beyond a turn-on at an erotic act.” Cole swallowed hard. Killing the wolf might be fun. “He wants to possess Paris. He’s serious.”

  Landon frowned. “Perhaps I should tell Marketo. He might want to send some enforcers to keep the boy safe.”

  Cole shook his head. “I think that would drive Paris away and Marketo would never see him again.”

  Landon nodded. “Probably true. Besides, the Marketos aren’t our problem. Did you learn anything else?”

  “I overheard a conversation. Just a few words, and it could have been about anything. But he said something about starting in a week.”

  “Do you think he meant us? Coming here?”

  Cole nodded. “I don’t know why I think it, but I do.”

  Lindsey’s phone buzzed. He looked surprised. “Sorry. I thought I’d turned it—” He glanced at the phone and quickly put it to his ear. “This is Lindsey Vanessen.”

  He looked intently at Cole as he listened. “Of course I remember you. Thank you for calling.” He frowned. “Is that unusual? Yes, of course. Wait a moment, please.”

  He put his hand over the phone. “It’s Helena. The young lady who waited on us at the club yesterday. She says Paris—uh, Anthony—was expected for a rehearsal of a new act today and he didn’t show up. She says it’s very unusual and she’s worried.”

  Ice tracked down Cole’s spine. “Maybe he freaked at seeing us and left town?” Crap, he didn’t even believe that himself.

  Lindsey went back to the phone. “Helena, is there a chance that Anthony might have decided to leave town? He and my friend had kind of an argument. Maybe he wanted to get away.” His frown got even deeper. “I see. Do you have any idea where?” Lindsey’s eyes looked wide and scared. No. Not Paris. “Thank you so much. Is it safe for me to call you? Text? Okay. Keep yourself safe. Or tell me immediately if you feel you’re in danger. I’ll send someone for you.” He clicked off.

  Cole grabbed his arm. “What did she say?”

  “She said none of Paris’s things were missing from his dressing room. It looked like he had just been there and the door stood open.” Lindsey glanced at Cole then down at his hands. “She saw some strange guys lurking around backstage.” He looked up. “She says she’s seen them before. They always stay close to Anthony’s
dressing room. She thought they might be guards assigned by the club, but now she’s worried that they could be Eliazer’s men. She says the man is obsessed with Anthony. He might have taken him.”

  Cole couldn’t catch his breath. He shook his head. “Oh God, where would he take him?”

  Lindsey leaned over and put his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Helena said she was forced to have sex with Eliazer one time. He took her to a high-rise down by the river. She said they blindfolded her, but she’s really good at directions. It’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got.”

  “Could she find it again?”

  “I got the impression she thought she could.”

  Cole stood up. “Text her and ask her to meet us somewhere. Hell, where?”

  Linds held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll have her meet me at one of my family’s buildings. I’ll tell her not to worry. I’ll have a new and better job for her so she should just walk out.”

  “Thanks, Linds.”

  Landon stood behind the desk. “Cole, I’m calling Merced. This is really his job. His pack should go.”

  Cole’s hands tightened. “The fuck it is.”

  Landon’s eyes got wide.

  Lindsey smiled. “He’s not altogether rational on the subject of the cat.” He started texting.

  His father frowned. “So you’re going after Paris yourself?”

  “Yeah. I’m getting ready.” He started toward the door.

  “And I’m calling Marketo.”

  * * *

  Paris stared out the window of his upscale prison. Fifteen fucking floors. Even a panther would end up squashed. Why the hell was he here? Damn, he had a good idea, and he felt sick.

  He paced to the palatial bathroom and back to the window. A sitting room, bedroom, and a rooftop deck complete with running track comprised his total world. Oh yeah, and a pole. Every room had multiple peepholes. They were easy to spot. He felt like college porn online. After years of isolation and total privacy, someone was now watching him shit.

  He shuddered. He could make fun of this, but the sad fact was he hated being confined. Even in a giant prison like this. Maybe it had something to do with being trapped in his mother’s womb while she was dying. Shit, don’t think about that.

  Take a deep breath, cat.

  There were five of them out there. Big wolves. He could smell them. His nose told him two of them wanted to fuck him until he bled and the other three would gladly cut him into small pieces and eat him as an appetizer. But they weren’t in charge. He knew who was. He’d heard the man after they brought him here last night. He’d been awake then, but for some reason fell asleep again. Shit, sleeping was dangerous.

  The handle on the door to the sitting room moved. Paris dove for the couch and sat cross-legged. Be cool, cat. It could mean your life.

  The door opened and a big head came around the corner. Eli-fucking-azer. Cole had said to be careful of this male. Paris hadn’t listened. This looked like the price of his ignorance.

  Eliazer smiled and walked into the room, then turned and carefully closed the door behind him. Paris had only seen him in a suit. The jeans and sweater looked odd on his big, stocky body. His thin, shoulder-length hair had to be an affectation of someone clinging to earlier days, because it sure didn’t look good.

  “So, dear Anthony, you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

  Okay, sound confident. “Comfortable? You have an odd idea of comfort. Drugging me and dragging me like a sack to”—he waved his hand—“wherever the hell this is.”

  “Ah, this is your home now. I’ve spared no expense to make you happy and to keep you well.”

  Too much! He leaped up and stalked a step toward Eliazer. “Happy. Have you lost your fucking mind? How can you imagine I’d be happy being kidnapped?”

  Eliazer waved a hand. “In time you’ll come to see the value of your new home.”

  Paris clenched his fists. Don’t think about it. “Time? You can’t expect to keep me here? People will notice I’m gone. They’ll come looking for me.”

  Eliazer laughed. “Ah, dear Anthony, you flatter yourself. I’ve communicated with your work and let them know that you have decided to move on to other opportunities.”

  Ice pick in the eye! “What the fuck?”

  “Yes, and beyond them you have fewer connections than anyone I know. There’s no one who seems to care about you except me. You’re truly the loneliest man I’ve ever seen. Who would come looking for you?”

  He wanted to gasp, scream, roll on the floor, but he held rigid. Punched in the stomach by fucking truth. Paris sat back on the couch. Eliazer was right. Who would even notice he was gone? Gone from the life he’d chosen.

  Eliazer smiled. “There, you see. This will be much better for you.”

  Forget being sad. No time. “What do you want from me?”

  “Ah yes. To be all those things you’ve been missing. Your friend, father, teacher—and, of course, lover.”

  Ice. “In a pig’s ass!”

  Eliazer laughed. Slowly he unzipped his jeans and pulled out the shortest, fattest cock Paris had ever seen. Also fully erect, such as it was. Eliazer got off on this whole thing. He stroked it lovingly. “In time, this will start to look very appealing, since it’s the only cock you’re likely to get.”

  “Yeah, well. Monkhood looks more appealing.”

  Eliazer frowned for the first time since he’d come into the room. “By tonight or tomorrow morning with no food, I imagine this will start to look like a full meal.” He narrowed his eyes as he pushed the fat knob back into his pants, then smiled. “I can force you, boy, anytime I want. But I’d rather have your cooperation, and I know it’s only a matter of time. I’m very patient where you’re concerned.” He walked to the door. “Get comfortable, Anthony. You’re not going anywhere.” He walked out of the room and the click of the lock echoed.

  Trapped. Locked in. His hands started shaking. He couldn’t stand it. Cats and traps didn’t go together. At least not this cat and this trap. All he wanted to do was curl in a ball and whimper.

  No. Shit no. He squeezed his trembling hands into fists. They hadn’t beaten or killed him. He hadn’t even been raped—yet. And he had one tiny thing on his side. For some bizarre reason, Eliazer did not know what he was. He hadn’t even asked the question. He didn’t seem to know that Paris was a werewolf, much less a panther shifter. Eliazer had no nose. Human blood, probably. What about his henchmen? Didn’t they know? But in truth, even his own father’s wolves didn’t pick up on the truth. He was too rare. A wolf might smell it and not believe it. Only Cole had smelled him out. Cole. It hurt just to think of him.

  Paris got up and paced into the bedroom. Feeling eyes on his back gave him the willies. Being locked in gave him double willies. Look hopeless. Like you’ve given up. Hell, that wouldn’t be hard. He threw himself on the bed and put a hand over his eyes.

  Alone. Just like Eliazer said, he’d separated himself so much from everyone no one would even miss him. Would he miss them?

  His father? Yeah. He didn’t see the alpha much, but it was kind of nice knowing he was there. Comforting, maybe. But his father wouldn’t think to look for him. Why would he?

  And then there was that damned, sincere, tongue-tied werewolf. Would he miss Cole? Some weird heat pressed in his head and made his eyes water. The answer was yes. He’d miss that big guy. The wolf made him feel wanted and safe. But Paris had screwed that pooch—twice. Why? Maybe he couldn’t stand to let anyone care about him? Wanted and safe had never been in his vocabulary.

  He flipped over on his stomach. Now his captors were staring at his ass. He took a breath. Some ice ball in his heart said Go to the window and jump out. But he didn’t even have that freedom. He tried to focus his mind on the problems at hand. No time for this psychological bullshit.

  One slim panther against five—no, six—big wolves wasn’t a match he’d want to sign up for.

  Looking hopeless wouldn’t be very hard at all. />
  Chapter Twelve

  The limousine inched through the evening traffic. River on one side, tall buildings on the other. Cole’s mouth was dry and his hands kept clenching and unclenching. Save Paris. Save him.

  Helena pressed her nose against the window like she was desperate not to miss a clue. Lindsey looked relaxed but smelled scared. Cole put a hand on his arm. “Thanks, Linds. Who knew you were Sam Spade.”

  “I’d rather be Kinsey Millhone, dear.”

  “Seriously, thanks.”

  “Thank me and Helena when we have the boy back.”

  “Yes. Thank you, Helena. You’re very brave.”

  She kept staring. “Anthony’s always been so good to—there! That’s the building, I think.”

  Cole leaned over and looked at the high-rise condominium. “Why do you think so?”

  “I remember the car I was in stopped at a stoplight or sign. I heard sounds like that harbor cruise place down there.” She pointed toward the water. “I know it seems crazy, but when I was a kid, we used to close our eyes and try to draw maps of places we traveled to. I was the best. When Mr. Eli—uh, him—when he sent for me, I was really scared, but as soon as my eyes were covered, my brain just started collecting data.”

  “That’s great, Helena.”

  Lindsey smiled. “Actually, it’s better than great.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my family owns that building.” He laughed.

  “No shit? Excuse me, Helena.”

  She shook her head. “I almost said it first.”

  Lindsey pushed a button and spoke into a microphone. “Alan, please pull over onto a side street and park. We need to get out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He sat back.

  Cole looked at Lindsey. “So what does you owning the building mean exactly?”

  Lindsey shrugged. “It means I can waltz in there and ask where Mr. Eliazer lives, and if they have no name like that, I can ask some off-the-record questions about comings and goings of big, tough-looking men.”