by Anna Lowe
He fought it every step, but the body that was not quite his own inched closer to the door while he fought and shouted inside.
No! No! No!
Out of the jumble of wild images that bombarded him, one jumped to the foreground. Janna, leaning forward and handing him her bandana. Saying, Hang on to this. Kissing him.
Hang on to this…
A thousand more images flashed, and the pain grew worse.
His fingers groped empty air, suddenly desperate for that bandana. Where the hell was it?
The bandana was gone, but he remembered the kiss.
Hang on to this…
So he hung on to that memory with everything he had. Let his mind push back the pain and the awful banging and greedy voice in his mind. He concentrated on the memory of her soft lips. Her rose-petal tongue. Her hands, flat on his chest. The tickle of her breath as she tasted him and let him taste her back. A taste like raspberry muffin and sweet iced tea, mixed with something just a little bit wild.
He hung on to the kiss for dear life and added nuzzling to the image, too. He stumbled toward the bed, panting. Remembering Janna spread out there, so eager for him. So innocent, so undeserving of anything but love.
His body was on fire. His shoulder blades pinched backward, and his skin itched all over, the way it used to do on that one spot on his arm. His jaw swung open in a shout of pain but no sound came out. Worse, his jaw locked in that position. It stretched much farther than it should until the skin on his face stretched, too, and became a mask. A twisted, horrible mask his hands flew over frantically, finding everything in the wrong place. A long, protruding nose. High, pointed ears. Stubble, not just on his chin but everywhere.
Arizona was full of old native legends about demons and devils that he’d never paid attention to. He writhed on the floor, wondering if he ought to have. Wondering if there was any way to save his body or his mind.
His fingers tensed up and clawed the air, and bolts of pain sparked through his body. He’d broken plenty of bones in his time, but now it was happening all at once, and all over. Even his mind started to blur.
Then everything tipped sideways, and he crashed to the floor.
Chapter Twelve
“Four ball in the corner pocket,” Janna murmured, lining up her shot.
Click! The balls rolled across the green felt of the pool table, bounced exactly as she’d intended, and the four ball made a satisfying plonk into the corner pocket.
Someone whistled. “Nice shot.”
She didn’t take her eyes off the pool table, nor her mind from where it really was: Cole. What to do, how to do it.
Part one of her plan had come off without a hitch, thank goodness. She’d endured what seemed like the longest evening shift of her life at the saloon then headed out, telling her sister the truth. Well, most of the truth, like where she was going. She did embellish a little by saying four guys from Twin Moon Ranch would be there, too. In reality, the last thing she needed was a chaperone for the night — and definitely not four shifter chaperones who’d take one look at Cole and cry wolf.
Her eyes darted to the door of Jay’s Bar for the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes, then went back to the pool table to calculate her next shot. Some people took long walks to clear their minds. Her sister needed to bake. Janna played pool.
“Six ball, side pocket,” she said, taking aim.
A couple of guys had clustered around the table, but she barely paid attention to them. They were part of the background, like the country music, the clink of glasses, the stale smell of beer. Funny how the first time she’d been here, she didn’t pick up on what a dive the place really was. Her eyes had been focused on Cole’s sandy hair. Her nose, filled with his oaky scent. Her mind, whirring with possibilities.
Now her mind just spun. She’d done all the subtle questioning she could do at the Blue Moon, but all she’d learned was what she already knew: how low the survival rate for Changelings really was.
Shit, shit, shit.
Her mind made up a dozen reasons why none of that applied to Cole. Her mate was strong. Smart. And he had her to help him, right?
Which is exactly what she’d do. She’d talk to him. Try to explain. Then she’d bring him to Tina Hawthorne-Rivera, because she’d concluded she really did have to enlist some help. Tina would know what to do. Tina’s own mate had survived the Change, so Cole could, too. It would all be fine. Somehow, everything would work out.
When the bar door opened, she straightened in hope, but the man who walked in was a leather-jacket toting, trucker type.
Damn it, where was Cole?
“Looks like your date ain’t coming,” the guy nearest her said in a flat tone.
“Got lots of good company here, though.” A second grinned.
Janna leaned over the table for a tricky kick shot, ignoring them. Okay, maybe meeting at Jay’s Bar hadn’t been such a good idea. The minute Cole showed up, she was out of here.
But when the music playing over the speakers switched, she went warm all over. Started swaying with it, too, because it was the very song she and Cole had first danced to, and she could still feel the tickle of him whispering the words in her ear.
There’s songs and poems and promises, and dreams that might come true…
That dance had been a high, and the slower song that followed led to their first kiss. A kiss that had her knees knocking. She closed her eyes and replayed it in her mind. Such soft lips for such a hard-toned man. Such a clean, woodsy scent, like home. Such a gentle hand, on her waist…
A hand really did slide over her waist then, nowhere near as gently as Cole’s, and she smacked it away.
“Watch it,” she barked, whipping around to swing her pool stick toward the man who’d snuck up behind her.
Yeah, watch it, asshole, her wolf snarled inside.
She glared, finding a different man than before. Her nostrils flared, but all she could smell on the guy was a weird, whiskey-laced-with-diesel scent.
The man backed off as his beefy friends chortled all around. “Sorry, honey.”
She made a face and turned back to the pool table. Couldn’t a woman just be left alone to think for a while?
A breath of fresh air came wafting down a short hallway where someone had propped open the bar’s back door, letting in just enough of the cool night to make things bearable.
She pursed her lips. Next time she decided to meet Cole somewhere, it would be a nicer place than this dive.
She concentrated on the layout of balls around the table and calculated her next shot. What she needed was a good, three-ball shot to settle her mind a bit.
“Two ball in the side pocket,” she muttered, bending over again.
“No way,” one of the men said.
Watch this, her wolf growled.
She sent the eight ball hurtling down the middle of the table, where it struck the seven in a glancing blow that, in turn, sent the two ball rolling through a tight gap into the side pocket.
Plonk. The two ball fell away.
Janna stalked around the table, completely ignoring the applause of the men around her. One of them brushed up against her, and she immediately stepped away. Jesus, could they just let her think?
Obviously, she needed a new game plan for how to go about things when Cole showed up, because Jay’s Bar didn’t have the cozy atmosphere she remembered from before. Next time, she’d take Cole to a diner. Better yet, on a picnic in the mountains. Anything would be better than this.
“Wanna dance, sweetheart?” a voice said, much too close to her ear.
She sighed and glanced toward the bar out of habit, half expecting to see Simon there. Bears were handy that way — one glare from him and these idiots would back away from her. But of course, it wasn’t Simon, because this wasn’t the Blue Moon Saloon.
The bartender here was a pudgy, balding guy who didn’t keep an eye on things the way Simon and Soren did. Something she’d never appreciated until just now
. She’d never had an issue waitressing in the saloon because the guys kept things in line. But this place…
She looked around. Trucker types. Bikers. Lots of tattoos. Mostly men, too, which she hadn’t noticed before.
Whatever. That didn’t worry her. Even if the men closest to her got rowdy, they were only human. Nothing her wolf couldn’t handle if push came to shove. The only thing she had to worry about was Cole.
She circled to the corner of the table nearest the wall and bent, lining up her next shot. She could go for the three ball, over there, or a trickier shot with the five ball and set up her next shot…
“How about a dance, honey?”
She stuck out an elbow, undeterred. “Not your honey. Five ball in the—”
She yelped as two thick, tattooed arms grabbed her from behind. Really grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides and her back to his front.
“I think a dance is just what this wildcat needs,” he chuckled, prying the pool stick out of her hand. His beer breath washed over her ear.
She opened her mouth to scream, then thought the better of it. All she needed was to stomp on his foot, then twist to the right and elbow him in the gut. That always worked.
So she stomped and twisted, but it didn’t work. The man was quicker than anticipated and clutched her harder.
“How about you and me head outside for some fun?” he said, pulling her toward the door.
“Stop! Stop!” she protested.
Two other men closed around them, blocking the view of anyone who might look over and protest while the blaring music covered her cry.
Janna struggled, cursing herself. She’d been stupid, coming to this bar alone. Working under the watchful eye of two bears had made her complacent. Well, fine. Let these jerks get her into the alley outside. She could use the darkness to let her wolf claws out and give them a whipping to remember. No one would believe a couple of half-drunk rowdies who’d claimed to have seen a woman turn wolf.
She stopped struggling and flexed her fingers, getting ready to call on her inner beast.
“That’s right, sweetie,” the man at her ear chuckled. “Come along and meet our friends.”
Friends? Her heart pounded in her chest. What friends?
The three men had her boxed in the narrow hallway. There was no way anyone in the bar would spot her. Forward was her only way out — into the alley.
She took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. Fighting off two or three drunks, she could do. But any more than that and things would get ugly. She’d have to shift fully to wolf form and tear out a few throats. She’d still get away, but it would bring unwanted attention to the incident. Injuries and bodies would lead to an investigation that could threaten the secrecy shifters valued above all else.
Her heart sank. Even if she managed to cover things up, there was only so much trouble the wolves of Twin Moon Ranch would tolerate from the likes of her and her sister, who were technically guests in pack territory. They’d be cast out. Their jobs, their new home — she and Jessica could lose everything.
Shit. Her only choice was to get away quickly without hurting any of the men badly enough to warrant attention. And damn, would that leave a bitter taste in her mouth. These jerks deserved the worst. Who knew how many other women they’d try helping themselves to in the future?
Another wave of garlic breath washed over her face, and she turned away, counting the steps to the back door. The second they were outside, she’d shift and run.
“Right this way, sweetheart…”
Oh, she’d show him sweetheart, all right.
“Hang on, Lou,” one of the others said, and all of a sudden, the hands gripping hers twisted and yanked.
She yelped at the pain.
“Perfect,” the man pronounced a moment later, pushing her shoulders.
She yanked her hands apart the second he let go, but her arms didn’t budge.
Shit!
No matter how she twisted or pulled, she couldn’t get her hands free. They kept catching on something…
“I think she likes your belt,” the first man chuckled.
Belt? They’d tied her hands with a belt?
Panic rose in her, and she barely batted it down. Jesus, now what? She couldn’t shift with her hands tied behind her back. Both shoulders would be dislocated, and even a quick-healing wolf couldn’t recover instantly from that.
Shit…shit…
She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and reached for her sister in her mind. It took a huge gulp to swallow away her pride, but this wasn’t about pride any more.
Jess! she screamed inside. Help! Please!
Even if her sister heard, she couldn’t teleport over. By the time help arrived…
Janna struggled again, fighting the ugly images in her mind.
“Now, now, sweetheart. You just keep on walking along. ’Cause those friends of ours? They’re your friends, too. Old friends.”
Old friends? What old friends would cooperate with men like these to rape her?
The man pushed her out the back door, and she had half a second to breathe the cooler night air before stumbling into another man who had been waiting outside. She lurched aside, but there was a third one there, clad all in white.
“Janna Macks,” he said coolly. “Such a pleasure to see you again.”
“You,” she blurted.
The man smiled and waved her captors away with a hundred dollar bill. “We’ll take it from here, boys.”
Janna backed away. The three men who’d hauled her outside were one thing. But this…this new enemy put ice in her blood.
Even in the dim light of the alley, she could make out the blue rings tattooed on their fingers. Blue Bloods. The rogue band who’d murdered her family and attacked the saloon not long before. Five of them.
“Seems you still haven’t learned your lesson.” Victor Whyte, the leader of the Blue Bloods, shook his head sadly. Then his face twisted into one of sheer malice. He grabbed her hair and twisted it, forcing her to her knees. “We’re here to teach you. The hard way.”
He pulled her head back — so far back, she could see the moon overhead. So far back, it was a wonder her neck didn’t snap.
God, he was going to kill her here. Now.
“You said we’d get a chance to play with her first,” one of the rogues gathered in the alley protested.
Play? She winced. She’d rather die quickly than endure what they had in mind.
She yanked at the belt tying her hands and felt it give slightly. If she could stall for a few minutes, she might be able to get it off. But Jesus, she didn’t have minutes. She had seconds, at best.
She drew in a huge gulp of air and screamed into the night. Drawing help — any help — was her only chance.
The big man behind her smacked his hand over her mouth a second too late, and they all stood, listening for a reaction for a moment or two.
“We kill her,” the leader hissed. “Now—”
He turned at the sound of hurried footsteps pounding into earshot. A tall figure appeared at the end of the alley, silhouetted by a dim streetlight.
Janna’s hope sparked, then faded. There was only one man there, not the armed posse she’d been praying for. An innocent man who’d likely be killed, too. God, what had she done?
“Hey!” he shouted, and everyone froze.
Janna looked up, recognized him, and blurted one hopeless word.
“Cole?”
Chapter Thirteen
Cole stood panting much harder than he ought to have been for the short run from his pickup to the alley. But he’d been panting the whole drive over. Pulling on his collar, too, and gnashing his teeth, not to mention scratching his ear so hard, it hurt. The urgency had been enough to pull him back from the abyss he’d been about to careen over and run to his car. Trying desperately to keep the madness at bay just long enough to…to what, he wasn’t so sure. Only that he had to push the beast he was turning into back and get to Janna right away.<
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“Back off!” he yelled. Much as he wanted to sprint down the alley and punch their dirty hands off her, he went slowly, checking the scene.
Four — no, five — big guys. He couldn’t see their faces but his nose caught a bleachy, unnatural scent that made him snort for clean air.
The warning bells that had been clamoring in his mind on the way over went off on a second frenzied round.
“You,” he huffed, recognizing the man who’d led the attack on Janna in the saloon weeks ago. The man he’d confronted once before.
He bared his teeth and a low growl filled the alley. A real, animal growl that would have scared him if he’d stopped to think.
Let me out! a gritty voice yelled from inside. Kill them! Kill!
Killing, he had no problem with. Not with guys who dragged a woman into an alley and tied her up. But it was the same voice that had been screaming at him to do all kinds of crazy things to Janna, and he wasn’t about to let it take control.
His facial muscles twitched wildly as he scratched an ear like a lunatic. Yes, he was going crazy. A fucking Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde he was powerless to control.
“Cole! Don’t!” Janna called.
He’d have jumped off a cliff for her. But desert her when she was in danger? No way.
Four of the five guys were big and burly, and the fifth was a pudgy older guy who spoke like he goddamn owned the place.
“We’ve got everything under control here. No need to get mixed up in other people’s business.”
Right, under control. Cole almost spat the words aloud, but his jaw was killing him. That feeling of teeth being push-pulled again, all four canines at the same time.
He shook his head and advanced another step, balling his fists.
The man had white hair and wore a white suit that seemed completely out of place in a dank alley at night. Whyte, that was the asshole’s name. He tilted his head at Cole and his eyes lit up in recognition.
“Ah, our knight in shining armor, back for another try.”
More like a raging bull, but whatever. Let the guy bullshit all he wanted.
Shift! Shift! Let me out!