“I think so, but I won’t be mated to her.” Heath didn’t know who he was trying to convince, but his words held a satisfying level of conviction.
Sebastian rose suddenly, his palms slamming onto his sleek metal desk. “I know you’re not insinuating she’s not good enough for you,” Sebastian said in a low, dangerous voice. His eyes were narrowed into slits.
Heath shook his head, wondering if his friend had lost his ever-loving mind. “We’ll cancel out each other’s powers!” he exclaimed, holding out his hands. “Do you want her to be defenseless, her fire extinguished by my water? With the Fey after her, there’s no way she’d survive that. She’s too good for me, and there’s no way I’m going to let myself weaken her.”
Sebastian only watched him silently, carefully, but a smile playing at his mouth broke free, taking over his face. “She’s too good for a jackass like you; you’ve got that right.” He was still grinning broadly. “But see how well she takes it when you tell her you’ll weaken her.” He shook his head, laughing. “She’s so going to burn your ass.”
Heath was utterly confused. How could Sebastian laugh about the danger his sister could be in?
“You’re going to have to explain because I’m not following.”
Sebastian sobered slightly. “Her fire is so much a part of who she is, nothing short of death is going to take that away from her, not even your water. Listen to her—she knows her powers better than anyone else I know. I’m not worried about you hurting her, but I guarantee she’s concerned about hurting you. What Kiril did to her…it made an impression.”
“What did he do?” Suddenly Heath wanted to break something, preferably the hunk of metal sitting in front of him.
“He tried to rape her, but she fought him off,” Sebastian said with a deep scowl that belied the pride in his eyes. “Kiril’s fire was almost as powerful as mine at the time, and he was higher-ranking than I. Still, she managed to get away.”
Heath thought back to the burn scars over her breast, curling up to her collarbone, and he wanted to squeeze the blood from Kiril’s heart with his bare hands. He wasn’t surprised Sophia had taken care of herself, but he was furious the other man had dared to force himself on her, harming her in the process.
Layered deep under his anger was hope planted by Sebastian’s words. He knew his twin, and would never risk her—maybe there was something to what he said. Maybe she wouldn’t lose her powers after all.
Possessiveness was an animal inside Heath. He wanted to track Sophia down and carry her over his shoulder to someplace they could be alone. At the moment, it seemed to be a fantastic idea.
“I’ll listen to her,” he promised Sebastian.
At the other man’s nod, Heath took his phone and stepped out into the hall behind the office, dialing Vale. He had to find out whether his brother knew about Ranulf’s plot to have him killed. He didn’t doubt his mother knew nothing of it—she might be weak, but she’d fought Ranulf tooth and nail over his exile, even as she’d disapproved of Heath’s actions.
“Come to Sebastian’s office at the brewery,” he said when Vale picked up. A moment later his brother stepped out of the office and into the hall, his expression solemn.
“What do you know?” Heath asked.
“Ranulf paid Jeremiah from the pack’s coffers every year. We’re pretty sure the payments were to ensure you were kept from freedom.”
Having known Jeremiah, the statement sounded accurate. “I don’t mind that so much,” Heath said, “but I do mind when Ranulf sends his soldiers here to have me killed.”
Vale’s eyes went wide. His brother couldn’t lie worth shit, so Heath knew his reaction was genuine. He actually felt relieved, knowing Vale had nothing to do with the assassination attempt.
“Did anyone survive?” Vale likely didn’t intend to sound accusing, but he did. They both knew Heath was the hothead out of the two of them, and more likely to kill everyone first, not caring enough to ask questions later.
But now he had a woman to take care of, and Ranulf’s men would come after her too.
“Do you know a man named Niven?”
Vale groaned. “That’s the guy you leave alive? I guarantee he’s the biggest ass out of all the men Ranulf sent.”
Heath shrugged. He didn’t care since Niven had given them the information they were looking for.
“I want to talk to him.” Vale was practically rubbing his hands together—what had Niven done to him?
“Ask Raphael where he is. I’m sure he’s at his place right now.”
Vale disappeared, but reappeared a moment later. “I’m going to help you survive this,” he said, holding out his hand.
Heath could see where people saw the similarities between him and his brother. They had the same light brown hair, though Vale’s was much longer, and the same eyes. Heath was barely taller, while his brother was broader. For a long time, Vale had left him to his exile, but Heath knew that was ending now.
He had a feeling Vale would be in New Orleans more often than he would like, but he wasn’t going to turn his brother away.
Heath clasped the other man’s hand and shook it, returning his smile before his brother vanished to go harass Raphael, who was probably debating what to do with Niven in the same style Cameron Frye from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off made decisions. If Raphael was in a car, Heath didn’t doubt that his friend had already totaled it from the inside by now.
He was just back in Sebastian’s office when Harry came barreling inside, his hair shock-white.
“What is it?” Sebastian demanded.
“They’ve been taken.” Harry gulped in air, his hands on his knees; he must have run from the parking lot.
“By whom?” Heath barked.
“Werewolves. They injected Sophia with something, and they made sure I saw before they let me leave.”
“They’re trying to draw you out,” Sebastian murmured to Heath, his eyes blazing.
“It’s worked,” Heath growled. He’d slit his own throat before he’d let someone hurt Sophia. He pulled out his phone and dialed Vale again.
“Change of plans. We’re all going to see Niven.”
Chapter 12
SOPHIA had spent the entire previous night trying to decide whether she wanted to haul Heath into her bed or hit him upside the head with one of the heavy textbooks Leila had left in her room. She’d gone to sleep without coming to a conclusion, yet again feeling too safe to complain about Heath keeping watch outside her door.
At least then, she’d decided, if someone came to attack him, the commotion would wake her up and she could have his back too.
She’d never really planned to pummel him with a book, even if he needed a serious wake-up call. Who did he think he was, making her feel the way he had, only to pull away from her and decide they could never be together? They had something worth holding onto, worth fighting for.
How could he throw away his mate?
Luckily, Sophia wasn’t the type of woman to let herself be discarded. This morning when she found Heath replaced with Sebastian, she agreed to meet him that afternoon to hang out at the brewery and replace her ruined phone. She needed some time to figure out what she would do about Heath and his mile-wide stubborn streak, but first she wanted to clear her head.
After a quick workout in the gym, Cael helping spot her when she lifted weights, she caught Briony sneaking glass cases of herbal teas into the cabinets in the kitchen. Three cloth bags full of fruits and vegetables sat on the counter, and Sophia was sure the men of the pack hadn’t bought them.
“Are you putting the pack on a diet?” Sophia asked, amused. She grabbed an apple and washed it before quickly devouring the whole thing. The witch found good produce.
“I’m suggesting a healthier, more sustainable lifestyle,” Briony said with a smile.
Sophia bit back a laugh. These men had been eating the way they wanted to for centuries; they were more likely to turn
into kittens on the upcoming full moon than decide to eat vegan. She didn’t say this to Briony, and helped the witch put away the groceries before hopping on the counter.
“I need to go on a long walk.” Sophia swung her legs, restless. “Where can I do that here?”
“Let’s go to Audubon Park.” Briony took a phone encased in glittering pink from her lace-covered purse. “Harry should be here to pick us up in a few minutes.”
Like clockwork, Harry arrived three minutes later in a restored El Camino.
When they reached the park—a beautiful place where everyone from children to the elderly strolled, skated, and played—they took a path that wound around a golf course and behind enormous homes with colorful, ornate gardens filled to the brim with greenery.
Sophia could see why Briony liked this place, and found herself enjoying the sunshine beaming down, slightly warming the cool air. The surrounding smells were chaotic but not overpowering for her senses, drawing her attention to a mother comforting a child with a scraped knee and an irate duck who only just realized he’d eaten the last of the stale bread the elderly woman had given him.
Beside her, Briony was smiling with her face tilted up to the sky, whereas Harry was staring at his phone, almost running into a teenager on a scooter. He looked up at Sophia sheepishly when he felt her gaze, lifting his shoulders at her raised eyebrow. “I’m texting your brother. He’s letting me keep an eye on you.”
If any other man had said that to her, Sophia would have laughed in his face. Harry was too young, his budding masculinity too fragile for her to shatter with the truth about who was looking after whom. So she gave him a smile and thanked him before she turned away, certain her laughter had crept up to her eyes.
Briony, who she’d thought had been utterly oblivious to the exchange, squeezed her hand and nodded at her approvingly, her light brown eyes sparkling.
On their second lap a man bumped into her roughly, and Sophia felt a sharp sting in her arm. He hastily apologized and walked away, right as she belatedly realized that he smelled were, having been distracted by the peaceful chaos surrounding them.
“We need to leave,” Sophia said, putting pressure on her arm, where the stinging had increased. What had he hit her with?
“Harry, go get Sebastian,” Briony commanded in a voice comparable to the one she’d used when she defended Sebastian.
“Leave Heath out of this,” Sophia added. She was certain these people were after him, not her—she didn’t want to draw him into a trap.
“What’s going on?” Color was leeching from Harry’s hair rapidly, meaning the poor witch was going into a panic.
“That werewolf injected Sophia with something I think will kill her. We’ll have to go with them willingly,” Briony continued calmly. “They’re going to collect us, and you’re going to go tell Sebastian what happened.”
“I don’t need rescuing,” Sophia said through gritted teeth, “but he deserves to know what’s going on.”
“I’m going to need rescuing.” Briony smiled half-heartedly. “You’ll see,” she chirped in response to Sophia’s perplexed look. She rummaged around in her purse for a moment until she found a small sachet and took a few leaves from it. “Put these on your arm; it’ll help with the pain.”
Sophia did, relieved when the throbbing in her arm lessened to a dull, manageable ache. Harry was already gone, having sprinted to his car.
The scent of weres caught on the wind—the soldiers were coming from behind them.
Sophia turned to face those who’d just injected her with something Briony claimed was deadly. Thinking about how well Briony’s concoction had healed her burns, Sophia didn’t hesitate to trust the witch—meaning she’d have to go with the weres.
There were four men and two women stalking toward them. Each wore the same plaid print somewhere on his or her body, whether it was tied to a belt loop or wrapped around a wrist. This time around, they wanted their pack to be known, and Sophia guessed they were from somewhere in Scotland.
They were after Heath, and she was bait.
Even so, Sophia wasn’t going to make this easy for them. She’d let them take her where they intended to…and then she would show them exactly who it was they’d poisoned.
A tall, dark-skinned male reached her first. He made a show of leaning down to speak to her, a surefire way to raise her hackles. “You’ve just been injected with Brute, a poison our Alpha created specifically for our pack,” he murmured quietly, his Scottish brogue confirming her suspicions. “If you want the antidote, you must come with us. If not, expect to die in a matter of hours.”
He was obviously the leader of the group. The rest of Scottish weres waited ten feet back, watching their exchange.
“Of course I’ll come with you.” She used her most high, airy voice. Beside her, Briony actually released a giggle.
Let them think we’re airheads. The weaker she was viewed, the better it would be for her and Briony when they fought back.
The man only nodded, and the rest of the weres surrounded them like a phalanx with her and Briony in the center, creating a barrier in case they decided to run.
“Where are you taking us?” she asked, cautious to sound merely curious.
“To the house we’ve rented,” came a clipped reply from a tough-looking woman. A jagged scar crossed her right cheek, but it bore no influence on her current scowl.
They were loaded into a black SUV with three rows of seats. No one spoke to her or Briony, but the packmates murmured to each other in voices too low for Sophia to understand for the duration of the drive. Having less experience in exploring New Orleans than she would have liked, she had no idea where they were.
They had been driving alongside the river, but now they were surrounded by colored shotgun homes similar to the one that served as the entrance for le marché noir. In a new neighborhood, they came to a stop in front of a large, seemingly typical Victorian house. Its deep purple paint was at odds with the regal points and slopes of its roof, and the ornate black railing of the upstairs balcony.
“Get out,” a redheaded man covered in freckles barked at her, jerking her car door open. She did as asked, refraining from punching the man out cold, and found herself surrounded by the group yet again as she and Briony were herded into the house.
Immediately, their hands were zip-tied, and they were told to sit in wooden chairs the leader had pulled into the center of the room. Sophia hoped they would build a fire, but now that she was inside the house, she knew they would want one—it was an older home and badly insulated, making it so drafty it seemed colder inside than outside.
“Dial Heath and tell him to come get you,” the leader ordered, handing her a phone.
Sophia dialed Raphael instead, having memorized his number once he’d become Alpha. He picked up on the first ring, sounding irritable.
“Who is this?”
“Sophia,” she answered. “Heath,” she emphasized, hoping to come off as upset to her captors while conveying to Raphael not to let on who he really was, “I’ve been taken by six Scottish werewolves who poisoned me with something their Alpha made. We’re…” She trailed off, looking to the man listening barely a foot away.
He said the address loud enough for Raphael to hear.
“I’ll be there,” Raphael growled. Sophia thought she heard a crunching sound, as if he’d broken his phone.
That’s probably exactly what he did. The man was known for his temper.
“Heath, I’m pretty sure they’re after you, so be careful,” she said quickly before hanging up. Meaning, they’re after Heath, so don’t bring him.
Please, please don’t bring him here. She’d be damned if she gave these royal pieces of crap anything they wanted, especially the man she was becoming more and more certain was her mate.
Only, she had to convince him to let them take that step, risking their powers in the process. Which I need Heath alive to do.
“I’ve complied with your orders,” she told their leader, who was still hovering over her. “Now give me the antidote.”
The scarred woman actually laughed from where she was sprawled on the couch. “We’re not giving you shit until Heath is dead. You,” she pointed a sharp-nailed finger at Sophia, “are our ticket to finishing this mission without all of us dying like the last group.” Sadness flickered in her eyes, quickly covered up by disgust.
Sophia said nothing, but weighed her options for attack. She had Heath’s Zippo in the pocket of his jacket, which she was still wearing. They likely expected her to cooperate because of her condition, the reason they hadn’t already discovered her weapon, but Sophia wasn’t in a cooperative mood. She was in the mood to kill the bitch who was far too excited to end Heath’s life.
She was wrong; some of them wouldn’t survive this. Sophia could choose to let them kill Heath, or she could hurt them badly enough to change their minds.
She discreetly fingered the lighter, waiting for a moment when everyone seemed distracted. She didn’t have to wait long. The only warning she gave Briony was a short nod before she lit the Zippo…instantly spreading the fire to encompass the scarred woman.
She screamed as she burned, but Sophia had no pity for her. “I’ll take the fire away if you give me the antidote and let me go,” she ordered over the woman’s yells.
Her words were ignored; the woman was left to die.
Instead, another fire elemental, an average-height brunette man, fought her for control over the flames, an easy battle that led to him sinking to the floor, grasping his head in his hands.
When it became clear she hadn’t been defeated, the leader, who was taller than everyone else in his group by inches, rushed her.
Despite her bindings, Briony had pulled a small knife from her purse and freed Sophia’s hands by the time the man reached her. She saw the redheaded man stalking toward Briony, expletives spewing from his mouth, but focused on the larger man before her.
Hunted Page 15
