Wild and Untamed (Netherworld Series Book 4)

by Olivia Hutchinson

“Get it out, please.”

  “Kaleb, bring her in the house,” Lila demanded, jumping down from the bed.

  He was next to her a second later, wrapping her in his arms. “You’re going to be okay,” he said against her temple and she didn’t know if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

  “Of course I will be,” she told him. “Lila’s going to perform surgery.”

  “You realize I’m not qualified to do this, at all. Not even a little bit. You guys put way too much faith in me,” she said as they went inside. “Put her on the table.”

  “What happened to your window?” Beth asked when she saw the plywood covering where the window should be.

  “Long story.”

  “Hey, do you have any Tylenol or anything?” Beth asked as Kaleb set her down where Lila instructed. “This is really starting to hurt.”

  “Is she making a joke?” Gabriel asked. It was the first she’d noticed Kaleb’s brother. He was standing a few feet away, towels in hand, visibly confused.

  “I need gauze, too,” Lila told him. “Under the sink in the bathroom.”

  Beth gritted her teeth and clung to Kaleb’s large hand when Lila pulled the knife from her side before dropping it on the table next to her. Towels were pressed to her open wound and Lila bore down on them, keeping pressure on the bleeding.

  “You mated him too, didn’t you?”

  “Too?” Beth asked, confused at Lila’s question.

  “Gabriel and I just got back from New Freedom about two hours ago.”

  “New Freedom?” The place sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it.

  “Maggie and Heidi went for a few weeks. Remember Maggie talking about it at girl’s night?”

  She thought she remembered Maggie talking about it but she couldn’t pin down exactly what was said. “Maybe?”

  “Well, they went to New Freedom. Maggie mated a shifter. You’re never going to guess who Heidi mated!”

  The banter with her friend was at least distracting her from the throbbing pain in her side. “They’re both mated? Seriously?”

  “Come on and guess. Guess who it was.”

  “I’m not in the mood to guess. Just tell me.”

  “A dragon.”

  “Really?” It was hard to imagine a dragon, let alone Heidi of all people being mated. “Huh. Are they nice guys?”

  Lila nodded. “I think so. I didn’t get to spend too much time with them but they both seem to be stupid in love.”

  Beth looked over to where Gabriel was standing watch, his arms folded over his chest. “What about you? Are you stupid in love?”

  “Yeah, I am,” Lila said, glancing up at Gabriel, her face shining. “How about you?”

  She squeezed Kaleb’s hand and looked up at him. He stared down at her, concern etched his face, but there was a light smile playing with his lips. “I’ve been stupid in love for years. I was just too busy being pissy about it.”

  “You? Pissy? Never!” Lila said, laughing.

  An hour later, Beth was showered, bandaged, and sitting on Lila’s couch with a cup of steaming tea in hand and Ruby Tremblay’s blood-covered miracle satchel hanging from her neck. The fire raged in the fireplace, warming her toes. Gabriel had given Kaleb fresh clothes after he’d showered since walking around naked in Lila’s living room was quickly getting awkward.

  “How do you feel?” he asked her, sitting down next to her.

  “Sore but not bad.”

  “You’re going to heal quickly now that you’re mated,” Gabriel said, stretching his feet out in front of him where he sat in the chair across from them.

  “I’m sure my little good luck charm isn’t going to hurt anything either,” she said, fingering the strings around her neck. “It’s probably mostly spent by now.”

  Lila sat on the arm of the chair next to her mate. “I wonder if Grandma Ruby is up to making a bunch of little protection amulets. I have a feeling we’re not done yet.”

  “I’m done,” Beth said. “Done with the bullshit, anyway.”

  “Naturally. However, my friend, we still have the council to worry about and the warlocks. Stupid ass warlocks.”

  Lila had described what had happened to her and Gabriel in the days since she’d last talked to Lila. Gabriel had been shot on the front porch when they’d been attacked by warlocks. He’d healed quickly, just as Kaleb had when he’d been shot earlier, but almost not fast enough. Lila had managed to hold them long enough for him to get his feet back underneath him.

  Alex had been the one to help clean up the mess. Kaleb was pissed at Alex for not saying anything to them about what had happened but Gabriel told him he’d asked him not to since the situation had been handled. Poor Alex had been making promises to everyone to keep his mouth shut, apparently.

  Kaleb had drifted into silence. He stood up from the couch and went out the front door without a word to anyone.

  “He’s probably still hung up on everything you two have been through tonight,” Gabriel said by way of explanation. “He told me when you were in the shower that he didn’t mean to mate you.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Beth agreed. She took the last sip of her tea before setting the empty mug on the coffee table and rising slowly to her feet. “That was kind of my fault.”

  “Been there, done that,” Lila said. “Go talk to him. Maybe he’ll feel better.”

  “That’s where I’m heading.”

  The screen door slammed behind her as she went out onto the porch. Kaleb was leaning against the rail, looking out over the yard. Dense trees blocked the view of the road. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stepped closer to him. When he saw her, he pulled her into his chest and she sunk into his warmth.

  “Are you upset about the bar?” she asked him.

  “No, not as much as I thought I would be. We have insurance and there was nothing left behind that isn’t replaceable.”

  “Are you upset about…about what happened earlier? About being mated?”

  He pulled away from her enough to look down and see her face. She stared up at him in the darkness, marveling at how bright his face was in the limited light. He wasn’t angry, he appeared confused.

  “Upset about being mated?” He cupped her cheek. “No, never.”

  “I know it’s not what you wanted.”

  “It’s exactly what I wanted, it’s just not something that should’ve happened. Not because I didn’t want it or regret it, but because it increases the danger we’re in. There’s no going back, Beth. I feel like I’ve taken your dreams from you and I don’t know if that’s something I can forgive myself for.”

  “My dreams? Just because life isn’t going to be the same doesn’t mean it’s going to be bad, Kaleb. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m okay if things aren’t going exactly as planned, they never have before.”

  “We don’t know what the council is going to do.”

  “No, we don’t. Maybe they’ll never find out or maybe they’ll find out tomorrow. I’m not going to dwell on it. Right now, I’m going to take your advice. I’m going to just enjoy being with you with neither one of us bleeding or running for our lives.”

  He chuckled and pulled her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I love you, Beth.”

  “I know you do. I love you, too,” she said, sighing as she leaned into him.

  They stood there for a long time, staring out into the yard. When Kaleb stiffened, she knew the fleeting moment of rest was over.

  “Get in the house,” he whispered.

  Not again. “No.”

  “Go.”

  The screen door swung open and Gabriel stood next to them, alert and primed for a fight. Lila was just inside, peering out into the darkness. She hadn’t followed her mate outside but Beth knew if he needed her then nothing would stop her from being there with him. It was the same feeling she had when Kaleb had told her to go inside. No way was she leaving his side again.

  “We know you’r
e there,” Gabriel bellowed into the darkness. “Show yourself.”

  A single moment was an eternity but then she saw it: the slight movement by the tree line, close to the end of the driveway. Squinting, the form came closer as Lila stepped outside. Gabriel grabbed her arm as she took a step off the porch toward the approaching figure.

  “Andrea.”

  **To Be Continued**

  About the Author

  Olivia Hutchinson lives in North Carolina with her husband, son, and two dogs. She’s always excited to hear from readers. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

  www.oliviahutchinson.net

  Also by Olivia Hutchinson

  Netherworld Series –

  Once Bitten

  Up in Flames

  When Sparks Fly

  Wild and Untamed

  Taken by Darkness – coming 2019

  Oceanids –

  Lotan

  Cid – coming 2019

  Lotan

  Ruthie

  I’m tired of mopping these disgusting floors. People are so nasty. They drop their garbage on the floor like they don’t even see the bin two feet away. Like walking those two tiny feet to throw away a piece of bubblegum is the end of the world. No, let’s just stick it under a desk like a six-year-old.

  It’s as if everyone who works in this building just assumes things will be taken care of. I don’t understand it. Are they just as gross at home as they are here? Do they pay their trophy wives and their hired help to keep their domiciles clean in addition to continuously stroking their egos?

  Must be nice.

  This job is just that, a job. It’s something I have to remind myself, especially on nights like this when I’m getting called to wipe the coffee rings off a countertop, that the very same suit – offending coffee still in hand – calls me to clean. Dude, grab a paper towel and stop being a tool.

  Clock in, clock out, collect a paycheck; I have benefits, a stable income. I shouldn’t complain, even if I am working the nightshift. So, I don’t. I keep a constant internal monologue, don’t get me wrong. I cuss out each asshole with every fake smile I plaster on my face, but I’m paid to be nice and say “Yessir!” That’s how I say it too. With an exclamation point on the end.

  “Ruthie, there’s a water spill down in the basement lab.”

  “Yessir!”

  I know it’s not a request, but if I don’t treat it like one I’ll go insane. They wear the suits, and I have my name on my shirt. That way they know who to blame when something goes missing or is out of place. Okay, okay, so I grumble and gripe.

  Yeah…there’s no but following that sentence.

  I ride the elevator down, smiling at people who won’t even look at me from behind my cart. The call to the lab is odd. Don’t get me wrong, they’re jerks down there too, but they tend to be a bit more careful in research areas. It’s generally frowned upon when you spill highly toxic or caustic chemicals. But I guess that’s why they’re calling me since it’s only water.

  When I get off the elevator, Wilbur is sitting behind his desk. The seventy-year-old security guard isn’t much now, but he’s a Vietnam vet, and I’m betting a real badass back in the day. Now that he’s retired, he works full time just to be able to afford his wife’s medications. At least he’s a friendly face and the one person in this joint that isn’t a complete douche.

  “I hear there’s a water spill,” I tell him, rolling my cart forward.

  He pushes his thick glasses up on his nose and rocks back in his seat. “You know how it goes.”

  “Where is it?”

  This may be the basement lab, but there are many different rooms down the cement hall. Most I’ve never been in due to their contents – whatever that may be – even though I have the security clearance to be there. I doubt I’d understand what they’re doing anyway.

  “Room 938,” he says.

  I give him a nod and head on down the hallway, pushing the squeaking cart as I go. It echoes off the cavernous walls. Stopping outside 938, I hesitate. I’ve never been in this room before.

  My hand is hovering over the doorknob when the door flies open, whacking me in the shoulder. I stumble back as one of the scientists steps out into the hallway.

  “Watch it,” the man barks. For a second my stupid smile falters, and I’m about to tell him where he can shove his bad manners when I catch myself.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I say, stupid smile firmly plastered.

  He grunts and straightens his white lab coat over his robust midsection. Glasses slide down his bulbous nose, and he’s staring at me, his eyes going directly to my chest which is hidden, although not well, inside my gray jumpsuit. I pretend not to notice his ogling and wait for him to get out of my way so I can go do my job.

  After an inordinate amount of time he moves, and I grab the door before it closes. I maneuver the cart through the door, catching him looking back at me as he heads down the hall. Yuck man, don’t look. Just go on with your night and pretend I’m not here.

  It’s dark inside 938. There are no blaring overhead lights like the others. This one is different. First, it’s much bigger than some of the other I’ve been in. Second, there’s a massive aquarium in the center of the room, which is the only source of light. The water is clear, and there’s a dark, massive hollowed log on the bottom, half buried in the sand.

  I don’t see anything swimming inside. No sharks, no fish. It’s just a big tank. It reminds me of something I would’ve had as a child, just jumbo sized. It seems like there should be some rocks or maybe a massive pirate ship in there.

  I wheel my cart down the ramp, heading toward the tank. I can only assume the spill is somewhere near the tank since that’s the only source of water I see. Weaving the cart through the rows of counters, complete with microscopes and a bunch of other science shit, I start looking for the spill.

  There it is, just as I expected. There’s a large puddle on the floor, next to a narrow set of rolling steps. Now that I’m close to the tank, it’s quite overwhelming. The walls are at least ten feet high. It’s just a solid wall of glass holding thousands of gallons of water. Chills shoot through me, and I’m just relieved there are no cracks.

  I set the brakes on the cart and wring out the mop before using it to sop of up the mess. I’m finishing up, placing my obligatory wet floor sign when a wave splashes out the top of the tank, soaking the right side of my body and the floor I just cleaned.

  Spinning around, I look up at the tank. The water’s lapping the edge of the glass, but I don’t see anything moving inside. No fish. No mystery turtles. Nothing.

  I pretend not to be creeped out as I again wring out the mop and restart the cleaning process, this time irritated because I have water in my shoe and now I’m going to have to walk around the rest of the day smelling like dead fish, sand, and saltwater. I’m going to chafe.

  When I’m done, I kick off the brake of the cart and start to roll toward the door when another, much larger, wave sloshes over the side.

  “Okay now,” I say to the tank, not masking my irritation. “Stop it.”

  My eyes are fixated on the tank, but there’s nothing. The sand isn’t disturbed, and the eerie hollow log is just as dark as it was before. I take a step closer to the edge of the tank, trying to see inside the log. Whatever is in there must be hiding inside. There’s no other place for it to go where I wouldn’t be able to see it.

  The slight movement just inside the log catches my attention, and I squint, trying to see what it is. Fingers curl around the edge of the wood, and I know my jaw is on the ground when I see the tawny hair floating in the water. When he emerges, I stagger back.

  It’s a man.

  No, it’s not a man. It’s a fish. Wait a damn minute.

  There is no hallucinogenic in my system. I haven’t eaten ‘shrooms since high school. There’s no explanation for why I see a mermaid…merman?...in this tank – except that he’s real and actually there. Or… I’ve lost my mind.r />
  His tail is long, sleek silver scales disappearing in the very human-like flesh and tone of his hairless torso. When he looks at me, it’s as if he sees me. Actually sees me. I’m sure he’s the only one in this building who does, apart from Wilbur and maybe Jerry who works in security. But this is different, he appears curious. Maybe just as curious as I am.

  I take a step closer to the glass and lift my hand up. The glass is cold against my palm, and the longer I stand there, the dumber I feel. This isn’t ET. He’s not going to press his finger against the glass and phone home.

  I’m about to drop my hand when he swims closer, his tail curling beneath him as he hovers there. I meet his eyes. They’re a striking light brown, almost amber. His face is quite human looking as well. I’m looking for fish characteristics, but there aren’t any. His ears are a bit pointy, but maybe I’m just looking too hard for something.

  Then he lifts his hand and presses it against mine, and now only a thin layer of glass separates us. I suck in a breath and glance at his hand. His fingers are webbed. I tilt my head, staring at the odd difference when suddenly, I get stung.

  I glance down at my arm just long enough to see the needle sticking out of it like a dart on a dartboard. It wavers, and I’m too stunned to do or say anything to the ogling scientist standing there, a malicious grin on his face before my knees give way and blackness surrounds me.