by Young, S.
She could try to use it as a weapon. Seduce and manipulate him. Thea flicked a look at him, her eyes traveling up his strong arms to his broad shoulders to his face. There wasn’t an inch of softness to him. Not an ounce of fat anywhere. His jawline was strong and angular. He had high, severe cheekbones and a proud Roman nose. His scar was on the cheek facing away from her, but she could visualize it and the way it only added to the aura of mean fierceness that surrounded Conall.
His gray wolf eyes were shockingly pale compared to his unruly dark hair, and he was sporting stubble on his cheeks after days on the hunt across Europe.
The massive height and broad shoulders, not to mention the dark clothing and biker boots, screamed danger, and Thea had noted the way most people at the hotel had taken a wide berth around the alpha.
She got it.
He was scary on first impression.
However, during breakfast his scar seemed to lose its harshness, becoming a part of the interesting features that made up his masculine face, and Thea enjoyed studying him, trying to figure him out.
Her eyes moved to his mouth where his lips pressed together in concentration. Or was that annoyance? Because she knew he could feel her study. She wondered what he’d do if she suddenly kissed him. Thea felt a flutter much lower than her belly and yanked her eyes away in consternation.
What was that? she grumbled to herself.
There was no way she was attracted to this belligerent werewolf who was determined to hand her over to her number one enemy without a goddamn care what it meant for her.
She curled her lip in disgust at the thought.
Jesus, she had more self-respect than that.
Well, that was that. She would not seduce the wolf onto her side. She couldn’t, anyway. He’d see right through the manipulation, the paranoid asshole that he was.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t be manipulated.
Thea had to admit she was curious about Conall and his sister and the pack he led. She knew only what she’d read in books about werewolves but knew little about the realities of pack life. She’d never been to Scotland, yet she’d met a lot of Scottish tourists and most of them could wax lyrical about Scotland for hours.
People, she discovered, loved talking about the things that made them happy. Perhaps if she found out more about Conall, if she showed an interest, that—along with her pretending she needed him to protect her—might soften him a little.
Friendship, Thea realized.
What she was suggesting was something akin to friendship.
Afterall, it was hard to hand over a friend to her worst enemy.
Would Conall see through it?
There was nothing Thea could do but try.
She looked over at him again and he shot her a quizzical look. “What is it, lass?” he asked impatiently.
“Ashforth is holding your sister prisoner, isn’t he?”
“How clever of you to deduce that from your eary-wiggin’.”
“‘Eary-wiggin’? Does that mean listening in?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Aye.” He flicked her another impatient look. “Earwigging.”
“It was hard not to. We were in the same room.”
He grunted.
Thea tried not to smirk. He had serious caveman qualities. “Tell me about her. About your pack. How does that work?”
Conall’s expression grew tight with obvious suspicion.
Jesus, he really was paranoid. Thea felt a prick of something that almost felt like hurt. She shouldn’t be. Hurt, that was. Why should he trust her with anything when she didn’t trust him?
And she definitely didn’t trust him.
However, she was wondering if maybe she’d stopped fearing him. Okay, she feared where he was taking her, whom he was taking her to, but Conall? No. She didn’t think so.
God, she was an idiot—listening to the words of a strange girl in a club and letting them dictate her feelings toward this werewolf. An image of him punching his clawed fists through the two vampires’ chests as if they were made of polystyrene instead of flesh and bone came to her. Never mind the fact he’d decapitated a powerful vampire with one swipe of his claws.
She needed to remind herself the bastard was just as deadly as she was.
More so. She’d tried not to kill the vamps. Conall had taken them out without even thinking about it.
“We’re going to be stuck in this car a while,” she said, the words flat, “and since you refuse to put on the radio, I thought a little conversation might pass the time.”
“Chart music is shite,” he offered as an excuse for the lack of radio.
“Well, it’s music or conversation. Those are your choices.”
“I choose the lesser of two evils … My pack is the last in Scotland.”
“And you’re the alpha.” It wasn’t a question. She’d never met a wolf with more alpha in him than Conall.
“Aye. We’re also one of the last clans in the Highlands that still operate like a traditional clan. I’m the chief. But that’s hereditary. It has nothing to do with my wolf.”
“Your wolf? So, do you think of that part of you as a separate being?” She was genuinely curious to know.
“Aye and no. It’s complicated.” His tone was brusque. “Next question.”
Thea studied him thoughtfully, wondering if she should ask what was on the tip of her tongue. Finally, she went for it. “If you’re the chief, then I take it your mom and dad aren’t around anymore?”
His fists tightened around the steering wheel, the action betraying emotion his face sought to hide. “My dad invested in shares in oil and was invited to tour some rigs in the North Sea. He was on the platform of one when the rig exploded, killing him and many of the workers.” He let out a huff of bitter laughter. “He was Clan MacLennan’s strongest alpha in centuries, and he was felled by an oil rig explosion.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. And she truly was. If anyone knew what it felt like to lose someone in such a horrific way, it was Thea.
“Aye, well, my mum was devastated. She was an alpha female, so she advanced not only to pack alpha but to chief of the clan. Predators came out of the woodwork to take advantage of her grief.”
“What do you mean?”
“Any alpha can challenge another for control of their pack.”
“Any? From anywhere? How is that fair?”
He smirked at her indignation. “It’s the way of things. Most packs dinnae suffer from strangers challenging their leadership. But Pack MacLennan is not only the last pack in Scotland, we’re also the owners of GlenTorr Whisky and a profitable fishing company.”
Thea raised an eyebrow. GlenTorr Whisky was one of the most famous whisky brands in the world. She’d served more than a few glasses of the stuff in her time as a bartender.
“These greedy bastards came in and challenged your mom?”
“Aye. And a challenge cannot be unmet.”
Realization dawned. “One of them killed your mom.”
Conall looked at her again and Thea’s breath caught at the fury in his eyes. Oh, this wolf carried a lot of anger. I know the feeling, Wolf Boy, she whispered to herself, feeling a sudden affinity with him.
“I think she wanted to lose.” He looked away, that muscle ticking in his jaw again. “I dinnae think she could bear life without my dad.”
For some stupid reason, Thea felt her throat thicken with emotion and she turned to look out the window while she tried to control the feeling. It was just … She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to love that deeply. Or to be loved like that.
Her parents had loved her.
She clung to that. Always.
But it differed from romantic love. Thea wasn’t much for romance. She curled a lip at the thought. Nah. It wasn’t something she’d ever encountered or ever expected to even if she lived forever.
The sudden thought of eternity made her shudder, like always.
“She barely took her last breat
h when I challenged the wolf who killed her,” Conall continued. “I became alpha to the relief of the clan, but I was challenged many times. Remaining undefeated for so long finally settled things. There hasnae been a challenge to the leadership in four years.”
“You killed them all?”
“A wolf can give in during the challenge by showing his belly. It’s an act of submission. They leave the fight in dishonor, but they leave alive. I only had to kill a few. And only one of them left a parting gift.”
Her eyes flew to him and he turned to her, revealing the deep scar that scored his skin from the tip of his eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. He ran a thumb down the scar. “He used a silver blade before the shift.” He returned his attention to the road.
Thea curled her lip in disgust. “Cheating bastard.”
Conall gave a snort of laughter. “Aye. But I was stronger than him.”
“You won. Obviously.”
“Aye, but not just because I was stronger.” His expression was hard, fierce. “I won because I care more. All he wanted was power and money. I want to protect my pack. The pack is everything to me. Family is everything to me. I’ll never stop protecting what’s important to me, even if I have to die doing it.”
Thea stared at him, transfixed for a moment.
If his vow didn’t mean handing her over to the worst piece of scum who ever lived, Thea would admire the heck out of the wolf for his passionate dedication.
“And word reached the supernatural community of my ability to track.” Conall shot her a pointed, challenging look. “Few people want to piss off a wolf who can find you wherever you hide.”
“Hence why I’m stuck with you.” She shot him a dirty look and leaned her elbow on the door. Resting her chin in her palm, Thea watched the cars and the German countryside pass by. “Are the Highlands as beautiful as they look in pictures?”
Conall was silent so long, she turned to see if he’d heard her question.
He glanced at her, something warm in his eyes, a little curl to the corner of his mouth that caused an inexplicable feeling of nervousness in her stomach. “Lass, my Loch Torridon holds a beauty unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”
Another flutter of nerves unsettled her as she realized she wanted to see it. She wanted to visit the place that could crack Conall MacLennan’s ice-cold facade and put that too-attractive boyish wonder in his eyes.
Remembering she would see it when he handed her over to Ashforth killed the stupid fluttering, and she yanked her eyes from his to stare out the window. “I wonder if there’ll be a window in my Scottish prison cell. I’d so hate to miss out on the scenery.”
The car filled with immediate tension she didn’t understand until Conall bit out in irritated dryness, “You’re a wee bit optimistic, Thea Quinn.”
She frowned. “How so?”
His eyes hardened. “You killed his wife. I doubt you’ll live long enough to see a prison cell once I hand you over.”
Years-old grief sliced into her gut. God, he was an idiot. She laughed bitterly and turned away, suppressing the urge to tell him that death would be a blessing over what Ashforth intended for her.
Silence fell between them again and this time Thea let it. She decided she couldn’t even feign friendship with an asshole who couldn’t see Ashforth for what he really was. The guy was holding his sister captive in exchange for Thea’s blood, for God’s sake! Did that not clue Conall in, even a little?
Werewolves.
More brawn than brain.
The thick tension that had fallen between them felt suffocating in its silence, but Thea was too pissed to engage him in any further conversation.
She guessed they were around thirty minutes outside Dresden when she felt a warning tingle on the back of her neck. Her heart began to race, and that familiar feeling of dread settled in her gut.
Oh shit.
She glanced in her wing mirror, eyes dancing over the cars behind them. A black sedan that weaved in and out of the fast lane in the distance caught her attention.
“Wolf Boy.”
“If you expect me to answer to that, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Fine. Wolf Dude, we’re being followed.”
Conall shot her a look of surprise. “What makes you say that?”
“Call it a hunch.” The sedan was getting closer. “Black sedan. Czech license plate.”
He glared into the rearview mirror. “You’re sure?”
“You know how you have that creepy smelling talent?”
Conall’s low growl almost made Thea laugh.
“Well, I have a talent for sensing when I’m in deep shit.” She turned around to stare out the back window and saw the black sedan getting closer. “And I’m sensing a huge pile of manure heading my way.”
“How the fuck did they find us?” He hit the gas pedal and swung out into the fast lane to overtake.
During breakfast Conall had filled her in about the Blackwood Coven. “How did Ashforth know about the coven? Contacts, right? So maybe he let something slip to the wrong person.”
“Aye, maybe.” He bared his teeth as he stared into the rearview mirror. “And our license plate would have been tagged at the border point. They’re gaining us. We need to get off this motorway and dump this car.”
“Keep driving.” Thea touched the sat nav screen Conall was using to drive them to Calais and widened out the map.
“Fuck!” Conall swerved hard and Thea fell against the passenger door. “Sorry, lass. Fucking lorry.”
Making the decision that ignoring the road and Conall’s driving was better for her heart, Thea concentrated on the map. Just because she couldn’t die in a car crash didn’t mean she wanted to experience one. “Okay, we’re coming up to a slip road. You come off it, go around a traffic circle, and back under the freeway. There’s a town about ten minutes behind us where we can hide,” she said, urgently. “Now!”
Conall swerved off the freeway, the car skidding down the slope that led to the traffic circle. Thea held onto the dashboard and door as he swung them around, kicking up dust. “Dinnae tell me you’re afraid!” He threw her a smug look as he thrust the vehicle forward under the freeway.
She grimaced. “A car crash won’t kill me, but it might kill someone else.”
He frowned but kept pushing forward at high speed. “They’re still on us.”
Thea glanced in the wing mirror, seeing the black sedan gaining on them. Her heart pounded. “Conall …”
“I see them. I’m going as fast as this fucking shithole of a car will let me.”
Thea braced as the black sedan flew up beside them. The blacked-out driver’s side window rolled down and a woman wearing dark sunglasses appeared. She smirked, lifting her hand. “Conall, gun!”
He let go a flurry of curse words mixed in with thick Scots she couldn’t understand as he swerved into their pursuers, trying to shake them off the road. But they were determined.
When a red car appeared out of nowhere on the oncoming side of the road, everything changed. The new arrivals beeped their horn at Thea’s pursuers and dread filled her as she realized the black sedan had no intention of getting out of the way.
Thea watched the couple’s faces in the oncoming car as they realized too. Pure horror. The driver swerved too late, surprising their pursuers. The black sedan veered to miss them; it flew past the trees and bounced with such force into the field beyond, it flipped over. Good fucking riddance.
Behind her Thea heard the sickening sound of metal crunching. It was a sound she knew all too well. Looking back, she saw the red car had driven with full force into one of the many trees that edged the freeway. The passenger door opened, and a body tumbled out just as the front of the car went up in flames.
A small, terrified face appeared in the back window.
Shit.
“Conall, turn back.”
“We cannae.”
“There’s a kid in that car!”
Cursing, he wr
enched the steering wheel and the vehicle almost skidded off the road into the field. “That car will explode at any moment, Thea.”
Ignoring his warning, she threw open her door before he’d come to a complete halt and was a shadowy blur across the roadway. A woman lay unconscious on the ground by the passenger door, but Thea’s priority was the little girl crying in the back of the car.
She wrenched open the back-passenger door, feeling the heat from the flames that had consumed the crumpled hood. She reached for the terrified girl. “Come on, I got you.” She tried to sound encouraging, not even sure if the girl spoke English.
“Rette meinen Papa. Du musst meinen Papa retten!” The kid fought against her as one word made itself clear amongst the German.
Papa.
Looking into the front, she saw the man’s body. He was either dead or unconscious. Oh shit.
“Okay. I’ll get your papa,” she promised. Done letting the kid struggle, she wrenched her out of the car against her will and turned to watch as Conall pulled the mother to safety. She shot across the roadway to him and held out the girl.
“Where are you going?” She heard him yell as she returned to the crash.
Flames lashed out at Thea and her heart raced. The car was ready to blow. Rounding the driver’s side, she held up an arm against the heat and saw the dad was alive. His eyes were shut, blood trickled down his temple, and his legs were mangled where the front of the car had crushed into him, but he was groaning in his unconscious state.
The metal handle was hot to the touch, but Thea would heal quickly from any burns. She wrenched open the buckled door, and it fell off the hinges with the strength of her yank. Flames licked at the cracked windshield, warning her of imminent explosion.
Unbuckling the guy’s belt, she eyed his legs. They were trapped.
“Jesus Christ.”
Pressing her hand against the melting dashboard, Thea winced against the burns that would have agonized a normal person and pushed with all her might. The mangled car slowly began to give under the force of her will.
A popping sound made her heart stop. Pushing the crumpled machinery could cause it to explode even faster.