by Juniper Hart
The men mumbled something which resembled an agreement, but it didn’t ring with an endorsement. Emily didn’t push it. It was the best she had at that moment.
They pulled into a lot off of 12th Street, and Emily blinked at it. It seemed to be a non-descript pub-style restaurant.
“Is this good enough for you?” Dustin asked, a twinge of sarcasm in his voice.
“It’s fine.” They piled out of the vehicle, and Emily paused to look around, a slight unease filling her. It was true that she didn’t know the restaurant, but there was a certain fear in that knowledge, too. Anyone could be waiting inside.
No one is waiting inside. No one knows you’re here. She was growing increasingly exasperated with herself as she trailed after her co-workers toward the restaurant. There was no reason for anyone to look for her, after all. Marcel had seen to that years ago. For all anyone knew, she was back in town for a visit. As far as she was concerned, no one was even aware that she’d pursued journalism after getting out of Salem. Not even Marcel.
A pang of regret touched Emily as she wondered what had become of him. It wasn’t the first time over the years that she’d thought about him, not after he’d literally saved her life. God, I was such a dumb kid.
To Emily’s chagrin, the pub was filled almost to capacity, and she shook her dark hair vehemently.
“Oh, no, no, no,” she muttered. “This is not good.”
“Oh, man,” Sammy moaned, his mouth almost watering. “Do you smell that? I think they have a wood-burning oven!”
“No, there are way too many people here,” Emily insisted. “We need to go somewhere else.”
“Emmy,” Sammy growled. “It’s Friday night. Even in a town like this, it’s bound to be busy everywhere. Come on. I’m starving.” He didn’t give her an opportunity to argue and made his way with Dustin toward a booth which was just emptying.
Emily stood uncertainly as she debated returning to the van to wait for them, but she had to admit, the smells of the aromatic food were tantalizing. She tried to remember the last time she’d eaten, and she realized it was on the plane. The men stared at her expectantly, and Emily sighed, shuffling forward.
We’ll eat and leave, she decided. No need to linger.
A server appeared at the table almost instantly as Emily gazed around the establishment with nervous eyes.
“What’ll be, folks?” the young blonde asked. Her nametag read, “Amanda.”
“She’s going to need a stiff drink,” Sammy piped up. “Whatever she gets, make it a double.”
Amanda smiled at Emily, and a fission of apprehension shot through the brunette. That’s Conner Tooley’s sister. Not that she expected the girl to recognize her. They were five years apart, and Conner was a year older than Emily. Still, she shifted her eyes downward.
“Whatever you have on draught,” she muttered. “Nothing light.” Sammy snickered.
“You may as well get us a pitcher,” he said, and Dustin nodded in agreement.
“All righty. I’ll be back with your drinks, and you can take a gander at the menu.” The men chuckled, subtly checking out Amanda’s svelte figure as she walked away.
“You sure you don’t want a shot of tequila or something?” Sammy teased, reaching for a plastic menu. “You’re wound pretty tight.”
“Shut up, Sammy,” Emily barked, her eyes still scanning the crowd. Slowly, she was beginning to relax, realizing that there were some obscurely familiar faces, but none she could place.
This is fine. It’s only one night. She sank back into the booth and also reached for a menu, silently perusing the options as the men bantered about something she wasn’t listening to. Suddenly, she leaned forward on her forearms and looked at them.
“After we eat,” she instructed them, “we need to go back to the house and see if there are lights on. I need to know if she’s ignoring me or if she’s gone.”
Their smiles faded, and they grunted in unison.
“You’re the boss,” Dustin muttered, but it was clear neither of them was happy about the idea.
“We came here for a story,” Emily reminded them tautly. “Unless you want to spend the next week waiting for Patricia Hutton to return my phone calls—”
“No,” Sammy interjected quickly. “We’ll go.”
Emily nodded. “We should also—”
“Emily Pasternik?”
Her blood drained out of her face as she heard her name. Slowly, Emily turned her head toward the speaker, a small gasp escaping her lips.
“Pasternik?” Sammy echoed from across the table, but she ignored him as she fixed her eyes on the attractive young man standing before her.
What are the chances? “Ever!” she choked. “I—How are you?”
Ever Forrester beamed at her and winked a dazzling blue eye.
“Better now,” he joked. “I haven’t seen you since you left for school! Wow, you look great!”
“Uh, thanks, yeah.” Emily looked at her companions. “These are my co-workers, Sammy and Dustin. Guys, this is an old friend, Ever.”
“Ever Forrester,” the dark-haired man offered, sticking out a hand to shake, but his gaze was on Emily’s somewhat wary.
How weird that I was just thinking about Marcel, she thought, and here’s Ever. I imagine he’s the pack leader now.
“Are you back in Salem, then?” Ever asked, and Emily shook her head with so much force, she almost gave herself whiplash.
“No! No, I’m here for work.”
“Oh?” he arched an eyebrow, making Emily tense. She had to be careful about what she said.
“We’re leaving in a day or two,” she rushed on. “How’s Marcel? Is he still here in town?” Ever scoffed, a shadow falling over his face.
“Yeah. He’s still here. We’re never leaving Salem.” The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable.
“Well, it was good to see you, Ever,” she told him softly, yet firmly.
“You can join us if you want,” Sammy offered pleasantly. Emily shot him a scathing look. She wondered if he was intentionally trying to annoy her.
“Oh, I’m here with some friends,” Ever replied, nodding toward the bar. “I just saw Em, and I had to see if my eyes were deceiving me.”
He’s here with his pack. Uneasily, Emily looked toward where his friends waited, but no one was paying them any mind.
“It was really good to see you, Em,” Ever told her, flashing her another charming grin. “Don’t be a stranger now. You should come home more often.”
This isn’t home, Emily wanted to snap. It never was.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied pleasantly. “Say hi to Marcel for me.”
“Will do.” Ever sauntered off, leaving Emily with her heart pounding.
That wasn’t sinister. He seemed surprised to see me, but in a good way. I have nothing to fear here.
“Pasternik?” Sammy asked again and she cringed at the name.
“I’ve had it legally changed to Piper,” Emily answered crisply. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Would you look at that, Dusty? Our little petunia has a sordid past. Maybe we’ll get a story here yet,” Sammy teased. The words made Emily’s breath catch in her throat.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she mumbled, rising from the booth as Amanda returned to the table with their drinks.
“Oh, you ready to order, hon?” the waitress asked, and Emily shot Sammy a look.
“He can order for me,” she said, blindly making her way toward the restrooms. The place was beginning to suffocate her.
“I can?” Sammy yelled after her, but she was already moving through the crowd, into the back hall, which housed the bathrooms.
Before she could push into the ladies’ room, a man popped out of the men’s, startling her.
“Oh,” she gasped and laughed at her own jitters. “Sorry.”
“My fault,” he replied quietly, his eyes widening as he studied her face, a slow smile appearing over h
is jowls. He was handsome in a slick sort of way, his longish blond hair curling around the lobes of his ears beneath a fedora. Oddly, he donned a pinstriped suit, like he was trying to depict himself as a mobster from the ‘30s.
I know him. The understanding filled Emily with an unbidden terror, even though the man before her had given her no reason to be afraid.
“Excuse me,” she muttered, brushing past him. Before she could move, his hand lashed out to seize her arm.
“Where are you going, Emily?” he asked. His tone was even, almost cordial, but the underlying evil in him was suddenly palpable.
“Don’t touch me!” Emily hissed, wrenching her body back. His grip was far too intense, and before she knew what was happening, she was being dragged out toward the emergency exit. “Who are you?” she demanded, scrambling for her pepper spray, but he was moving far too fast for her to do much else than catch her footing. “Do you know me?”
The man paused, his eyes a strange teal color examining her face to see if she was kidding.
“Do I know you?” he scoffed, regaining his pace to haul her out of the back door. “Of course I know you. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already. It’s only been eight years since you disappeared.”
Emily blinked in confusion, still attempting to free herself from his vice-like grip, though it was futile. He was freakishly strong for a man who was not overly large.
Anger welled up in Emily, replacing her fear as she began to swat at him. It was too late. He had already managed to drag her out of the restaurant and into the alleyway. Her opportunity to scream had passed before she’d considered it, and now they were alone.
“What do you want from me?” she growled. “I don’t have any money.”
The man laughed. “Money, I don’t need, Emily. Money, I have. It’s you I need.”
“Who are you?”
“Gabriel, sweet child. Don’t you remember?” A tickle at the back of her mind came and went before she could identify it.
“No.” Emily could tell that the single word caused him annoyance.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” he barked.
“I have no idea who you are, Gabriel, but you should let me go before you find yourself in more trouble than you imagine!” She hoped her voice held the promise of haughty threat, but it was difficult when she was shaking inside.
“Let you go?” he snickered. “I’ve been looking for you since you vanished, Emily. I’m not letting you go, not ever again.”
The statement filled her with terror. “Why?”
Gabriel eyed her dubiously.
“You really don’t remember?” She glanced at him expectantly. “Because I made you, Emily. I made you what you are.”
5
“Are you sure?” Marcel barked. “Are you sure it was her?”
“I spoke to her for a few minutes, so yeah, I’m sure,” Ever chuckled. “What’s the big deal?”
“The Hub? That’s where you are right now?”
“Yeah. Are you coming here?” Ever’s voice took on a note of anger.
“Can you still see her?” Marcel asked, ignoring his brother’s question as he flew out of his chair toward the front door, his heart hammering. This can’t be a coincidence. The timing is too perfect.
“I think she went to the bathroom, but her friends are still here,” Ever muttered. “Are you coming here? Should I warn her?”
“Just keep an eye on her.” He disconnected the call, his mind racing as he made his way out to the BMW and squealed back toward Salem to find the woman he’d just been entrusted to protect. When Ever had called moments earlier to tell him that Emily was in Salem, Marcel had been booking a flight to New York to find her. The fact that she was in Salem troubled him in more ways than one.
Why did she come back? She had to know that nothing good could come out of her being back here. He reasoned he’d find out what had brought her back to the town which had almost killed her soon enough. If only she knew how close she came to death.
Marcel shoved the thought out of his mind and forced himself to drive faster toward the center of Salem. Idly, he considered calling Landon to let him know that he had located Emily, but he wanted to be sure that Ever’s information was correct. It wouldn’t be the first time that his brother had purposely fed him falsehoods, just for the sake of screwing with him. Then again, Ever didn’t know he was looking for Emily.
As he drew closer to the restaurant, he thought about the last time he’d seen her.
Was she already turned when she left for New York, or did Gabriel find her after? It was something he hadn’t considered. but he realized that she must have been turned before leaving Salem and before she’d changed her name. How did I not notice?
There was time for guilt and consternation later. He could ask her everything he needed to know as soon as he had her under his watch.
Marcel pulled into The Hub’s lot and made his way inside in seconds. The minute he entered, his eyes fell on his brother, hanging with the pack. There was an immediate shift in the atmosphere when Marcel approached.
“Oh, hey, bro,” Ever drawled, lounging against the bar. “How’s it going?”
“Where is she?” Marcel asked without preamble. He ignored the others, who also avoided his gaze, as if their leader’s presence sucked all the fun out of their night out.
“Shouldn’t you be at the club?” Ever asked, and Marcel resisted the urge to grab him by the shirt collar.
“Where—is—she?” There was no room for banter in Marcel’s tone, and Ever grunted, losing his smirk. He nodded toward a booth across the room, where two men sat. One looked perplexed as he glanced at his watch, but the other dug into his meal heartily. There was a third meal sitting, untouched.
“She was sitting with those two guys, but she hasn’t come back from the bathroom yet.”
“Since we talked on the phone?” Marcel demanded, his pulse beginning to race. Ever scowled.
“Dude, I am not stalking her on your behalf! I haven’t had my eyes glued to the table. I got the impression that she didn’t want to see me.”
I know the feeling, Marcel thought grimly, but he didn’t respond as he stalked toward the table. The men looked up at him in surprise. “I’m looking for Emily. I heard she was here?”
The thinner man wore a concerned expression on his face.
“She’s supposed to be here,” he murmured. “But she’s just in the washroom.”
“For how long?”
His eyes narrowed, and he looked at Marcel suspiciously. “I’m sorry; who are you?”
Marcel suddenly felt like he was running short on time, and he turned to run back through the hallway housing the bathrooms. Without thinking, he pushed open the door and yelled inside.
“Emily Piper, are you in here?”
“This is the ladies’ room, buddy!” a woman yelled back. “Get lost!”
“Emily?” Marcel growled. “It’s Marcel. Are you here?”
“Hey! Get out before I call the cops!” the mouthy woman howled. She was the only one who spoke from inside the bathroom.
Marcel backed out and looked around. The emergency exit called to him, and he bolted toward it, throwing the door wide open to look around the alleyway. Just as he stepped out, he saw two figures disappearing around the side of the building. Though it was just a glimpse, it seemed to Marcel that one was pulling the other. It was all he needed, and without another thought, he fell onto all fours, bounding forward to race after the duo. As he rounded the corner, despite seeing what he had expected to see, his eyes widened.
There was Emily, a maturity filling out her beautiful face, but undeniably the same woman, being yanked into a waiting town car.
Gabriel! Marcel thought. You bastard!
A low snarl reverberated through the buildings, and Gabriel turned his head in shock. He didn’t immediately recognize Marcel, and the younger Lycan didn’t give him an opportunity to figure it before he lunged for the slimy werewolf.
<
br /> Gabriel was barely allowed time to shift, but even as he did, he was no match for Marcel. The two fell into a tussle of gnashing teeth and flying fur until Gabriel lay pinned beneath him, fangs dripping saliva over his face.
“You will leave her alone,” Marcel hissed, his eyes gleaming in a fury. “She doesn’t belong with you.” In spite of Gabriel’s evident fear, he smirked.
“I made her!” he yelled back. “She belongs with me. She is part of my pack.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Emily screamed, her face pale as she gaped at them. It only took that second of lowering his guard for Gabriel to wriggle free of Marcel’s hold. He flew down the alleyway in full form, running with his tail between his legs.
Briefly, Marcel considered going after him, but he knew his responsibility was to Emily, not the rogue Lycan. Besides, Landon could deal with Gabriel. Marcel’s job was to get Emily to safety.
He fell back onto his haunches, and Emily immediately cowered, burying her face in her arms.
“I didn’t see anything!” she whimpered. “I didn’t see anything! Just go! I didn’t see anything. I swear!”
A stab of guilt pierced Marcel’s gut as he realized she thought he was going to kill her for having seen him. She didn’t know it was him.
“Emily,” he sighed, reclaiming his mortal strain. “It’s me, Marcel.”
Her brown eyes bugged almost out of their sockets, and she fell back against the car, her chest heaving against her tailored blouse.
“What is going on?” she choked. “What are you doing here?” Marcel shook his head and reached for her hand.
“You’ve got to come with me,” he told her urgently. “Before anyone comes out here.”
“I can’t!” she protested. “My co-workers are inside—”
“You need to tell them you’re leaving. Right now, before Gabriel comes back.”
“Marcel—” Emily looked dazed, like she was about to faint, and Marcel clasped her palm in his.
“It’s okay,” he told her gruffly. “I’m asking you to trust me again, all right?” A spark of gratitude illuminated her eyes, and she nodded slowly.
