Ruff Trouble

by Sharon Maria Bidwell

  “Not so odd if you can go along with this and sleep at night.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Do I like it? No. Do I have the guts to do anything about it? No. Because I’ve seen what he does to those who go against him. If one of his own children…” The sentence trailed off into a series of head shakes. “Get this straight. If you could change, I’d give it fifty-fifty whether he’d sell you to the highest bidder or hunt you anyhow. As such a thing is impossible, he’ll set you loose with a ten-minute head start. The grounds are vast. You’ll never even make it to the road. And if I step up and intervene, well if he’s not hunting you, he’ll be hunting me. If they put him behind bars, he’d get someone else to do it for him. Hate me all you like, but that’s why I will not help. You’re on your own.”

  She wasn’t though. Bobby and Sam would come.

  * * * *

  A man’s voice. Bobby stopped, shoulders hunched, one leg raised. He sniffed. The male scent wasn’t the strongest. Others had been here, were gone. Ahead he sensed one man and…a woman.

  Chantelle.

  A snarl dribbled out past his teeth, a sound his human half struggled to suppress. His human demanded caution, advised him of the element of surprise. Did she know he was nearby?

  He stood at a junction, one path wending away to a left turn in the general direction of the house. The longer corridor to his right, ended at a metal door. Bobby padded over, bent his head and sniffed at the base. Colder air, though it hardly seemed possible, wafted out beneath the crack. He went to his hind legs and put one paw on the door. Though he assessed the situation with his animal senses he tried to see with his human mind. The door was a solid barrier, the lock heavy duty. He must wait until the man inside opened the barricade, but by then others may have returned. His nerves screamed to get inside, to save his mate. Bobby dropped his paw back to the floor, backed up. Might not be wise, but he prepared to throw himself at the door.

  A hand on his back made him jump.

  * * * *

  “What is it? What’s that noise?” Benedict edged along the corridor. Though she could not see, Chantelle knew a door in the wall presented a way in and out of her prison. Didn’t help her get free of the cage. The angle was wrong to see Benedict now, but she sensed he listened at the door.

  He returned, walking backward. Shot her a look. “What’s out there?”

  She could tell him. She could say her mate had come for her, but why warn him? Bobby was in animal form. His beast called to hers. Chantelle gripped the bars of her cage, refusing to transform, unable to speak a word.

  Benedict knew anyway, or believed he knew something. He snatched a phone from his pocket. Would the mobile even work in here? If it did, they were in trouble. Might be anyway if the oldest McCaw returned too soon. Wasn’t good for Benedict to make the call. They couldn’t allow it.

  Chantelle opened her mouth and barked.

  * * * *

  They had to get in the room, the need urgent. Bobby didn’t have to tell Sam. The dog bunched, ready to attack the door. Pointless, and Bobby might be hurt but there’d be no sense in arguing. A loyal pet didn’t reason beyond instinct when one of its pack was in danger; it launched an attack without considering consequences. Sam had to save Bobby from himself and maybe save Chantelle to boot. By the time these ideas flashed through Sam’s mind, he’d already changed, again—having risked returning to human form to follow Bobby—and, as the hybrid, ran full tilt at the door.

  The metal buckled, held. Sam spun, turning full circle and hit the barricade again, this time at the same moment as Bobby. The lock popped. The door swung open, and both were in. Sam lifted his head as Bobby sped ahead, straight for what appeared to be a cage, but he veered off at the last heading toward the only threat in the room.

  A man.

  One who reached into his pocket to pull out something dark into the open. Something able to kill.

  Before Sam put a name to the gun, he threw himself forward between the weapon and the dog, a shot blasting out.

  He was dead. This was it. The end of everything, but…no pain came. His left ear stung, but before the man fired a second time Sam put his teeth to the man’s throat and applied pressure.

  Strange how he’d never thought of himself as a killer.

  * * * *

  “I might have torn out the man’s throat.” Disbelief made Sam’s tone soft but the low murmur didn’t fool Bobby. He understood too well what Sam was going through.

  “But you didn’t.” Bobby slumped in the seat next to him. Chantelle lay on the other side of the curtain, being examined. Though Sam and Bobby talked in whispers, she’d hear every word. Good. They all needed to face what might have happened. They all needed to know what was at stake. They had some difficult decisions to make.

  “But I would have,” Sam insisted. “To save her. You. Any of us, including myself.”

  “And why wouldn’t you? Why shouldn’t you?”

  “It’s not…I felt his pulse under my tongue and I wanted…wanted to taste his blood.”

  Though Bobby appreciated what Sam was going through, he struggled with how best to explain it to him. “The first time I changed I killed a rabbit. The animal part of me still revels in the hunt but the human in me likes bunnies running around.” When Sam gave him a dark look, Bobby gave him what withered away into a sad excuse for a smile.

  “So, our animals control us?”

  “No. They want to, but no.”

  Sam was shaking his head. “I can’t be so sure.”

  “Let me be certain for you. The situation here was extreme.”

  McCaw had done this before. The moment all three were back at ground level and headed out into the woods, Bobby changed and used Benedict’s phone to make the call to Atkins. Though the various departments still argued over whose jurisdiction this particular embarrassment fell into—McCaw had political connections—officers had arrived on the scene sharpest. A warrant now meant they were tearing the estate apart. Atkins had called Bobby not half an hour before. Evidence had come to light revealing several illegal and unethical hunts, both animal and human. Shifters…they’d be the perfect prey for someone like McCaw. Bobby suppressed a shiver.

  “Has Benedict talked? Mentioned what he saw?”

  “No. And he won’t.” Sam’s expression asked why not? “It’s not a simple case of insanity like Manning. This time…Benedict doesn’t want to believe. He doesn’t want the warehouse of canned worms this would open.”

  “Not even to save his skin?” Sam sounded more than sceptical.

  “Not even. If he starts on about humans changing shape, it won’t help his case.”

  Sam appeared to give this some consideration. “No. Not after Manning. They’ll say he’s trying to plead insanity to avoid a harsher sentence. They won’t believe him. It’ll harm his case.”

  “He never took part in the hunts, but he didn’t report them, so he’ll face charges as an accomplice. With good behaviour and spilling his guts, he’ll get out far sooner than his father.” Bobby snorted. “Speaking of guts, he fears what you and I might do to his skin should the truth ever get out.”

  “Get in line, boys.”

  Chantelle walked toward him. Bobby, so intent on calming Sam, hadn’t noticed her examination had finished.

  “If there’s a next time, I’ll be prepared.” Her grin was alarming.

  He didn’t doubt her. Beside him, Sam shivered.

  “We can go.” Despite her words, Chantelle held an arm across her middle. Either the limb or her ribs hurt. “I’m fine,” she insisted, no doubt noticing his expression. “I’m a fast healer.” Her mouth twisted in wry humour. “Now take me home and screw my brains out.”

  Funny how she read his mind.

  Chapter 10

  Chantelle jerked in her sleep, sat bolt upright a second later. Darkness…She should be cold, wet, wrapped in rough water-soaked blankets and sitting on a hard floor. A gentle touch on her thigh told her she was home. Though one of Bob
by’s hands lay hot and heavy on her leg—and both Bobby and Sam’s smells informed her they were alert to her needs—they didn’t move and spoke not a word. Good. Chantelle closed her eyes, letting familiar surroundings seep into her consciousness, soothing her.

  Such a long day with her two men fussing over her. Despite her declaration at the hospital and her need to have Bobby and Sam close, once she was home sex hadn’t seemed so important. Time spent filing her split nails and shaving her legs, putting a treatment on her hair, made her feel human. Maybe she didn’t need these things to feel like herself again, but they helped. As did the long soak in a hot bath. Soft towels. Creaming her face. All these moments came back to her with the amazement of how wonderful every small luxury felt.

  Later…she snuggled in her dressing gown, not one of her silk or satin playtime ones, but her fleecy winter’s night robe, the one that swaddled her like a cloud. When she spied it hanging on the door in the bathroom, she’d sat on the lid of the toilet, and laid her face in her hands and cried. Her guys had known. They would have sensed and heard her, but although the walls between them made no logical difference, she wasn’t sure she could have fallen apart in front of them without a struggle.

  She’d taken a long shuddering breath, given herself a lecture: Come on girl, you’re a strong woman and a shifter. She laughed at how that made such little difference. She’d been called into enough abuse cases and counselled enough women, and men, who had suffered trauma to know she wouldn’t shake what she’d been through overnight, if ever.

  When she had at last emerged from the bathroom and ventured down the stairs, two warm sexy grins greeted her. Both Bobby and Sam had tried to curb their enthusiasm, but they didn’t fool her. They were a pack; they wanted her. Bobby especially wanted to roll all over her, mark her with his scent, yet all evening they’d been so careful around her. Kisses gentle, first on her cheek and then on her lips. Sam approaching her from behind, clearing his throat to make sure she knew he was there, although there was no question of her not being aware. Sam slipping his arms around her waist, laying the side of his face between her shoulder blades. She had patted his hands, squeezed his fingers. Without a word he’d let her go and stepped back.

  Though she hadn’t wanted food, her body had needs, so when the men put out a few of her favourite things she accepted. As tired as she was, as fraught as her nerves were, she was ravenous. She’d dug in, and all evening her men had taken care of her, let her put her feet up, fetched and carried, let her have control of the television remote. Could she ask for better?

  No. Even when they’d come to bed, they’d not pressured her for sex or even to snuggle, and it surprised her how attuned to her needs they were. How willing. She needed time, if only a little, and they had known it better than she did.

  One of them she worried about more though. Her ordeal was over. Was Sam okay?

  She still didn’t know, though Bobby had caught her casting more than one speculative glance in Sam’s direction. He might have killed a man that evening, committed murder to save her. If anyone needed some TLC, it was Sam. Bobby had given her the smallest nod in understanding. They all had healing to do and now here she sat, in the night, Bobby on one side, Sam on the other. Both men were alert to the fact she’d woken, shaken by images of what she’d suffered over the last forty-eight hours. Yet neither spoke, waiting with more patience than she ever managed.

  They did the right thing. With one of her men on each side, she felt protected. Safe. The tension coiled inside her like a spring, and unwound. Chantelle eased down.

  Bobby’s touch traced a little higher. Sam…Her emotions must be more strung out than she realised for she hadn’t noticed his tension. Chantelle sniffed, taking in his sharp scent—he waited as though he expected something bad to befall him. He was ready to slide from the bed. Ready to leave her alone with Bobby. She smacked him on the side of the head, making both men start and gaze at her.

  “Honey, when are you going to get it through your thick skull you’re one of us?”

  “I…” Sam ran out of words. There was enough light in the room for her shifter eyes to notice the scowl that came over his expression. “How did you know?”

  “Duh, honey, your smell.”

  A sigh was his one reply as he rolled into a sitting position. “It’s damn hard living with you two when you can sense my feelings, what I’m thinking, before I’m even aware.”

  “You can do the same.” Bobby’s voice was a low rumble like way off thunder.

  “Yeah, sure I can. A little. But I forget to use them, and I need to change to have full use of those abilities. You both know that.”

  “A change you can control better than us,” Bobby added.

  “Sure. Which means I don’t give in to the temptation. I mean, sometimes I do. It’s almost instinctual, but most of the time I just…don’t. I give you both your privacy.”

  “Oh.” His comment stung as it hadn’t occurred to her. “I’m sorry, Sam. It doesn’t work that way for us.”

  “I know. I just…Tonight…I wanted time to get a handle on what I almost…did.”

  “Emphasis on the almost. And you saved me.”

  “And I would again. Still, I have to live with what I might be capable of.”

  He sounded resigned to it, not accepting.

  “Honey, if you were entirely human, do you believe you’d be capable of any less?” She stroked his shoulder. “Sam, you would still have done everything you needed to do to save me.”

  “I guess.”

  “No guess about it. The gentlest person becomes a predator if someone threatens their offspring. Their partner. If you had killed, it would have been what someone forced you to do.”

  “There’s a difference between a bad person doing bad things, and a good person being forced to do something bad.” Bobby’s voice—a familiar, gentle, soothing rumble, rolled over them. “You know that, Sam.”

  “You’re right. I do. But being aware of what I can turn into and the power I have when I’m that creature…” He shivered.

  “You need guidance, that’s all.” Chantelle squeezed his arm, pulled him to her.

  No resistance. She let out a pent-up breath. At least he rolled back on the bed, wrapping himself around her, pushing her into the pillows. Chantelle fell back, an odd shyness coming over her, though this was natural. They were a pack. They’d almost lost her. Both Bobby and Sam’s instincts were to connect with her again. Her instinct was to let them.

  She closed her eyes, giving herself over to darkness and whatever they wanted of her. When Sam’s mouth fastened over a nipple, she almost yelped, not because he was harsh but because he wasn’t as taken with her breasts as Bobby. Though bi, Sam had loved Bobby way longer. Also…Bobby allowing Sam to be one of them and causing Sam’s change had created a bond even she didn’t entirely fathom.

  Strange then, Bobby would be unaware of the tornado of emotions inside Sam. Or…No, not unaware. Blinkered. Bobby’s lips on her thigh, his teeth pressing against sensitive skin, hands pushing her legs open, mouth, tongue, lips and teeth travelling…Bobby needed this before he comforted Sam. He loved Sam but she…She was Bobby’s female.

  The men weren’t the only ones who needed to connect. Chantelle wove fingers into the hair at their napes, cupping their necks, touch light. Delicate. Doing nothing to hinder their movements.

  She tensed once when Bobby slid his hands under her hips to pull her closer, open to him. His growl froze her. Sam’s hot mouth moving to her neck calmed her. Not that she was in danger from either of these men. Occasionally she forgot how much Bobby consumed her senses sometimes. Not the man but the animal inside him. Though she was an independent woman, they were all part animal. Though she knew what was coming she didn’t know how direct, how desperate Bobby would be. Even pleasure tipped the edge into pain occasionally.

  As though he knew her thoughts, Bobby held back at the last, placing his lips in a kiss against her sex, tongue easing her apart, open
to him. When she moaned, her legs falling open, her hips tilting, her head falling back, only then did Bobby lap. The spreading warmth hit her too hard, might have hurt after all if Sam hadn’t fastened his teeth at her neck.

  Her nerves zinged with alarm but she did nothing to resist, her human mind at war with her animal. Sam wouldn’t hurt her but at heart she shouldn’t be allowing him to do this. She was submissive to Bobby, not Sam, but he needed this moment and so did she. They did this in front of Bobby, not hiding anything. If he objected, her mate would inform her. As his teeth nipped her most tender parts, she knew he watched, tongue trailing over her clit. He gazed along the length of her body, his stare burning her.

  God, were Bobby and Sam both rock hard? She wanted both men, one in either hand. As the thought trailed through her mind, Sam twisted her head, took her lips in a bruising kiss. Eyes closed, lost to his touch, she could not watch Bobby, only experience what he did to her. He crawled along the bed, inserting the bulk of his body and his cock between her legs, his sex rocking against hers as he leaned over. Then Sam was gone, his mouth dragged away from hers and she opened her eyes to witness her two men, Sam’s moan swallowed by Bobby as he staked another claim, kissing Sam as deeply as he’d kissed her sex. The knowledge Sam tasted her on Bobby’s lips flashed through her.

  Bobby was more than a man. He was also dog, and the wild part of him that strove to be dominant in a human world where Chantelle no longer needed to succumb to a man’s whim, chuckled in amusement. Chantelle refused to let her animal respond, not ready to interrupt, to have such a beautiful sight denied to her. Only when her guys at last seemed too lost in the kiss, did she wriggle her hips reminding Bobby she needed attention.

  Bobby pulled back from Sam, a full growl rumbling out of him. “Eager bitch,” he mumbled behind his grin. Taking hold of her hips he dragged her open to him, a quick flash of his two different coloured eyes as he peered at her sex, made heat crawl over her body, sear her skin. Ridiculous, she reacted this way. They were lovers. Mates. Pack. Had been for a long time before Sam came into their lives. Why did Bobby’s reaction to her, his open admiration, and yes, lust, make her blush?