Two
Huddled in the corner of her tiny stone cell, Molly Goldfoot stared into the darkness. Were it not for the small crack between the rocks, she would have no idea if it was night or day. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them tight to her chest. A shiver rippled through her body. She'd lost track of how long she'd been held captive. In the beginning, someone had brought food and water each day, but that had stopped.
She closed her eyes and visualized her friends, Martha, Kipp, Deacon, Oscar, and her new friend, Onyx. Were they searching for her? Why couldn't Onyx's wizard boyfriend conjure up some magic to find her? Maybe it wouldn't matter. Wherever they had imprisoned her must be magically spelled. No matter how many times she tried, she could not shift into her cat form.
Ivan. The last person she'd been with before she'd been so rudely grabbed and shoved into the back of a dirty, smelly old van. Would Ivan search for her? He was older than her. Sexy. Dangerous. She wanted him bad. Why had she been so damn stupid and refused his offer to walk her home?
‘Cause she hadn't wanted the others to know she went to meet him on the sly. For the millionth time, she wanted to kick herself. She and Oscar were friends. Sure, they'd kissed a little, but it wasn't serious. There shouldn't have been a problem with Ivan walking her home.
Molly shook her head, and a sad chuckle trickled past her lips. This was her punishment for her trampy behavior. She altered her position on the hard stone floor, wriggling her left foot which had fallen asleep. At some point she'd lost both her sneakers, so only thin, dirty socks protected her feet. Her butt hurt. This captivity thing became old quick.
Had her family orchestrated this? As she did every day, several times a day, she stood up and shuffled the few steps to the front of her prison. In the daylight, it looked like a giant boulder blocked the entrance to her little prison-cave. She stopped and turned her back against the stone. She pressed hard, straining each of her muscles until drops of sweat clouded her vision. As usual the damn rock didn't budge. She cursed how weak she was. Maybe if she'd spent a little time lifting weights instead of jogging, she'd be able to free herself from this hellhole. The fuckers who imprisoned her here and brought her food and water moved the thing with ease. Why couldn't she?
Dizziness pulled her down to the ground. More chills raced through her body. Not for the first time she wondered if she'd ever be warm again. Was a fucking blanket too much to ask for? These guys had to be the worst kidnappers ever.
She reached for one of the water bottles littering the floor, even though she knew it would be empty. Fear snaked through her belly. If she didn't get water soon, she would die. She may have spent most of high school biology class staring at boys and doodling in her notebook, but she knew she needed water to live.
A crack of thunder shook the rocks around her, and a new fear pierced her heart—being buried alive in an avalanche. One big, fat drop of water plopped on Molly's cheek, running down her face, her neck and rolling onto the floor. Great, the hallucination phase of dehydration had arrived to steal what remained of her sanity. A mirage. Fantastic.
Another drop hit her forehead, then her lips. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Water. Wet. She sat up. Her mind slowly pieced together that a storm was responsible for the rain. Thunder clapped overhead and flashes of lightning infiltrated her little cave, punctuating the realization. Rain pounded down overhead, slipping through the cracks, drenching her in minutes. Molly scurried around opening the empty water bottles and set them upright so they could collect water. Maybe she'd be able to hang on a few more days after all.
Ivan stepped out on the back porch of the house and shifted into his lynx form. He'd spent all of his time with the wizard and other shifters since the night all the shit went down. Now he had something real to work with. The spell indicated Molly could be closer than any of them ever considered. The need to hunt for her pronto overwhelmed him. This minute. The need to find her plagued him. He wouldn't rest until he'd at least taken a cursory look around. Let the others wait until tomorrow to begin their search. They didn’t know these rocks the way he did. No, waiting another second to find Molly wasn't his plan.
Stretching and sprinting outdoors again felt good. His thick fur-tufted paws handled the terrain with ease. Even when he made his way into the forest and started the rocky climb, nothing slowed him down. Thunder slammed into the air around him, and he flattened his ears. Lightening flashed illuminating the ledges he'd called home for as long as he could remember.
Even without the light, he knew the way. He wanted to get inside before the rain hit. He pounced on his ledge just as fat drops started slapping down around him. Nestled in the rocks lay a panel that opened the hidden door to his home. He shifted and pressed his palm against it. A large door slid open, and he pushed inside, hearing it slide shut behind him. He'd built this impenetrable fortress himself and loved the place. A brisk walk through the house yielded a number of items he needed. He tossed them into his backpack one by one. The last stop brought him to his closet, where he dressed in flexible hiking sneakers, thick pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a light windbreaker. Before heading back out, he slid a brown camouflage, waterproof ball cap over his head.
Crawling through the rocky ledges under the cover of dark would have been easier as a lynx. But he had no way of knowing who or what he might encounter along the way. Besides, he didn't want to terrify Molly if he found her. So a two-legged exploration it would have to be. The rain had slowed to a lazy trickle while he'd been inside. Enough water had fallen to make the rocks slicker than normal. He adjusted his backpack and held up a pair of infrared binoculars, scanning the area for anything out of place. He scented the air, catching a very faint hint of female. Apprehension slipped down his spine.
Not sure what caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise, he squatted down and surveyed the area again. He lifted his head to capture the faint scent again. Something familiar in the aroma told him he was on the right track. He pointed his flashlight down, making a slow sweep over the rocks. A soggy, pink canvas sneaker caught his attention. He picked it up, holding it to his nose. Molly's scent. She was close, or she had been close at some point. He continued in the same direction and found a second soaked shoe. Sliding his pack off, he then stuck both shoes in an outside pocket. If he found her, she'd need something for her feet to get over these rocks. He had no idea if she'd be in any condition to shift.
The light bounced over the mountain of rock in front of him. A giant boulder wedged in what appeared to be an opening to a cave grabbed his interest. He'd spent plenty of time in this area over the years and didn't remember this particular formation.
“Molly?” he called. Then again, a little louder. A soft cry in the night froze him in his tracks. His whole body stilled as the sound disappeared around him. Zeroing in on the rocky anomaly, he crept closer. Two wooden stakes jammed into the ground at either side of the boulder. Seemed like it had been deliberately done to keep whoever was on the other side from pushing her way out.
“Molly!” he called again.
Again, a faint cry. He lifted his head to hear the fading echo as it died. A feminine cry for sure. Anguish colored the voice. The sound sent chills down his spine.
Behind that boulder! The voice had to be coming from there. He crept closer. His vision narrowed down to the immediate area in front of him. Each of his muscles coiled tight ready to spring into action in case a trap lay ahead. Every sound vibrated through his ears, and he attempted to sort out anything out of the ordinary. When he reached the boulder, he tried testing its weight. If he didn't maneuver it carefully, the damn thing would flatten him as it went bouncing down the mountainside. He kicked out the wooden pin closest to him. The rock didn't budge. He hauled ass to the other side and kicked the other stake out. Still nothing.
“Molly?”
“Ivan?” came her immediate reply.
Relief flooded through him. Alive. For a moment, nothing else mattered to him.
He would help her recover from anything as long as she was still breathing. His eyes burned, and he told himself it was from the sweat dripping off his forehead.
“Molly, I need you to push on the round boulder at the entrance to the cave.” At least he hoped it was the entrance. Who knew what lay on the other side of the rock.
Her soft voice drifted through the cracks in the rocks. “I've tried for days. It won't budge.”
“I know. There were stakes in the ground keeping it in place. I moved them, but I need you to push.”
“Okay.”
He heard scraping and panting noises from the other side, but, damn, he couldn't see a thing. It killed him not to see Molly's face, if only to reassure himself of her safety.
The rock budged.
“Good job, Molly,” he encouraged. Scrabbling for purchase on the massive boulder, he wedged his hands in the crack between the rock and the wall and pulled with all his might. It rocked a little more.
“Molly, I think we're working the same side. Go to the other side of the rock and shove as hard as you can.”
She didn't answer, but he could hear her grunting as she pushed against the rock from the other side. He examined the area for something to grab to use as leverage and ultimately decided a long branch would work best. Wedging it in the corner he'd already loosened, he pried the rock free. It took some fancy footwork to jump out of the way before the boulder ran him over. It rolled a short distance, then came to rest against two pine trees.
“Molly.” Inwardly, he cursed the hoarseness in his voice. He needed to be strong for her. Save the emotional stuff for later.
Her dirty, tattered form lay crumpled on the ground, panting with exertion. He crouched down, tipping her chin up so he could see her face. Pale, with dirty streaks smudged here and there, she was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in ages.
“Hey, kitten.”
She threw her arms around his neck, her tiny body sagging against him.
“I thought I was going to die in here.”
He reached for his backpack and pulled a bottle of water out, offering it to her. She snatched it out of his hands and swallowed the whole thing in rapid gulps.
“Easy.”
When she finished, he took the bottle back, tucking it into his pack.
Cradling one arm under her back and one under her legs, he stood, hefting her into his arms. “I've got you.”
She snuggled into him, rubbing her face against his neck. Damn, if it wasn't the best feeling having her in his arms.
“Where are we?” she whispered.
“Not far from my home.”
“You mean, I've been close all this time?”
Guilt formed a large ball at the base of his throat, and he had a hard time swallowing. “I'm so sorry, catling. We didn't know. We've been searching everywhere for you. It's a long story.”
She wriggled and tried to escape his hold. “I can walk. You can't carry me through all these rocks.”
Ivan surveyed the rocky landscape ahead of him. Keeping his balance would be difficult, even without the additional weight.
“Can you shift?”
She shook her head. “This whole time I couldn't shift once.”
“Try for me.”
The air shimmered, and a sleek, buff-colored cat with silky fur and bright cerulean eyes replaced Molly.
“Good job,” he whispered. Soft purrs rumbled through her body, and she rubbed her cheek against his arm.
With Molly in a smaller package, he could carry her in one arm and maneuver through the rocks much easier. He set a quick pace, wanting to get her safe and warm as fast as possible.
Ivan's admiration for Molly grew with each minute. He knew she must be starving, probably in pain, and yet she never uttered a sound as he carried her over the bumpy terrain. Her vivid blue eyes remained open and alert, even though numerous times he told her he wouldn't mind if she fell asleep. The rain started up again. Hard and fast. Ivan tucked her in close to his body, attempting to keep her dry. When they reached his lair, he set her down. She regarded him carefully while he performed the necessary ritual to gain entrance to his home. The moment the door slid open, she skittered inside. He found her waiting in the kitchen.
“You must be starving.”
“Meow.”
He opened the cabinet, pulling out a can of soup. “You want to shift back to eat?”
In a very human like gesture, she shook her head back and forth, then ducked her head. He stared at her for a minute, before a chuckle rumbled out of him. She was modest. Another laugh followed. These cats cracked him up. Onyx suffered from the same thing. He'd been with her many, many times when she shifted, and he'd yet to see her naked either.
“Why don't you take a shower? I'll find some clothes for you to wear. The soup will be ready by the time you’re finished.”
She gazed longingly at the stove before marching out into the hallway. At the doorway, she glanced back at him as if to say, “Well, are you coming or not?” Her tail twitched back and forth. Hurrying into his room, he ransacked his dresser drawers until he found something suitable, and then led her into the bathroom.
The minute the door clicked shut Molly shifted. The image that greeted her in the mirror looked bizarre. Dirty, gaunt, pale. Molly shook her head and turned to the shower. The large glass enclosure could hold more than one person comfortably. The door opened with a hushed sound, and Molly poked her head inside to peer at the fixtures. A bench lined the back wall of the shower. Heat raced over her cheeks as she pictured all sorts of things she could do with Ivan in there. She turned and stared at the closed door. Maybe she should invite him back?
As if he'd heard her lurid thoughts, he knocked on the bathroom door.
Answer naked?
She wrapped a towel around her and opened the door. Ivan stood there with his head turned away.
“Sorry, I just wanted to give you this.” He held out a bottle of shower gel to her.
“I'm decent. You can look at me.”
Molly froze for a moment as he turned and took her in. The full force of Ivan Bast left her breathless. Something about his shaved head gave him an appealing but dangerous air. And the way his tank top emphasized his broad chest and thick arms—yum! Never mind his physical attributes, his forceful stare dampened her thighs all on its own. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her. She wanted to be devoured.
Her stomach grumbled, and she took a step back, embarrassed.
The corners of his amber eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “I'm working on your dinner. You go ahead and get clean.” He nodded toward the shower.
Message received. Now was no time to be getting frisky, especially since she probably looked like hell. She shut the door and sighed.
Figuring out the complicated knobs took a few minutes, but she managed to adjust the water temperature to her liking. The warm water sliding over her skin, soothed and calmed her. She opened the bottle of shower gel he'd handed her and inhaled the woodsy scent. Ivan's smell. Snuggled up against him in her cat form the whole hike home, this scent had surrounded her. She'd forever associate it with the joy of being rescued.
This house. She couldn't believe the set-up he had, just stashed in the side of a mountain. Amazing. As she worked the lather over her body, she let her mind go blank and enjoyed the sensation of getting clean again.
Knowing Molly stood only feet away, naked and wet in his shower was a special kind of torture. Seeing her in nothing but that flimsy towel had taken all his self-control not to snatch it away. Taking advantage of her after such a trauma would be unforgivable. He concentrated on heating up her soup, toasting some bread, and making a pot of tea. After a while, he heard her soft footsteps behind him.
“Hey.”
He turned, and his breath caught in his throat. Her long red, hair lay wet and curling around her shoulders. The shirt he'd given her reached her knees, so he couldn't tell if she'd bothered with the shorts he'd provided. He kept his hands
fisted so he wouldn't be tempted to reach out and take a peek.
“Come sit down and eat,” he choked out.
As she padded into the kitchen, her shoulder brushed against his back, sending a shiver down his spine. Silently, she settled herself at his small kitchen table. It occurred to him he had never had a woman in this place. He owned a normal home a few streets over from the shifters' little hideout, and he'd always entertained females there. Humans. He didn't get involved with shifters anymore. Not until Molly and her friends anyway. Something about her was different.
“Are you going to stop staring and feed me?” Her gentle words jarred him out of his thoughts.
Her question reminded him he should be taking care of her not indulging in lusty daydreams while she sat there half-starved. “Sure, kitten, coming right up.”
He spooned out soup and placed the steaming bowl in front of her. The toaster dinged, so he turned away from her to busy himself with that. When he couldn't stay away any longer, he brought the plate to the table.
Her big blue eyes stared up at him. “Aren't you going to eat?”
“Uh, yeah.” Truth be told, he was starving. He'd pushed Cole into doing the spell instead of waiting around for Onyx to make dinner for everyone. Turned out to be the best decision he'd ever made, since he now had Molly safe and sound. But now his stomach clamored for payment.
The chair made a scraping noise as he pulled it out and settled his weight into it. Molly's pursed lips as she blew on her soup distracted him for a moment. He finally picked up a piece of toast and buttered it to give himself something else to concentrate on.
“Have you told the others you found me, yet?”
“Shit, no.”
“Don't”
That got his attention. He looked up to find her staring into her soup. “Why? They've been worried to death over you.”
The corners of her mouth twisted into a frown. “Even Anita?”
Feral Escape Page 2
