It was odd, though. What went one way should’ve gone the other. Maia should’ve smelled them, sensed them. Did something…
Everett slowly slid his feet from the dashboard, leaning forward as he studied her on the bench. “You sure that’s her? Her hair looks more purple than red to me.” As he spoke, Maia didn’t even glance in their direction, almost like she hadn’t heard him, even though the windows were cracked.
Weird.
But Brice didn’t have time to think about it. “She probably dyed it. You know how women are.” Actually, they didn’t. Neither of them did. Maia had been living with humans for a while now, even though she had a few shifter mates, so she probably took in some human hobbies.
The instructor walked away with a wave; he’d probably offered her a ride, and she’d turned it down, wanting one of her mates instead.
That was their cue.
Brice shot a look to his brother. “You go around to her left, circle around the parking lot. I want to box her in. She won’t be running.” And from the look of her—and her oblivious nature—she wouldn’t be a much of a challenge if she did start to fight back.
Everett slunk from the car quietly, pushing his door closed but not all the way as to avoid making a sound. Brice waited a few moments, giving his brother the time to circle around before stepping out and heading to the sidewalk.
Still, Maia didn’t even look at him.
He knew he was quiet; this wasn’t his first run after all, but for a wolf as old as her to not realize how close he was? Something wasn’t right here. Brice inhaled a deep breath; he could smell her, though it was faint. Were the humans rubbing off on her more than Fletcher thought?
Brice made it ten feet away from her before she looked up, right at him, drawing her green eyes away from her phone screen, which was the only light left in this parking lot, save for the few street lamps near the road and the moon above their heads, a bright silver ball in the sky.
“Uh, can I help you?” Maia asked with an attitude, blinking wide eyes that held no recognition.
Had she been gone for so long she lost her sense of smell? Brice liked to think he had a good scent, but then again, it wasn’t something he could ever test out, since he’d never had a female of his own.
“You need to come with me,” Brice said.
She laughed. The woman laughed, as if it was funny. As if his tall, hulking figure amused her. Almost like she had no idea what was about to happen. That, or she didn’t care. “You’re not my type,” she said once her laughter died down. “Seriously, dude, go.”
Brice was confused, so very confused at her reaction. He was near useless as Everett crept up to her left, yanked her unsuspecting body off the seat and wrapped an arm around her neck, his other arm pinning hers to her sides. She fought, she struggled.
She was…nowhere near as strong as she should’ve been, for a shifter.
Her phone fell to the concrete, its screen cracking. Maia grunted and tried using one of her fancy self-defense moves to get Everett up and over her, to use his body’s weight to fling him off her, but what worked on human assailants did not work so well on shifter ones. Shifters were worlds stronger than humans. Or at least, they should be.
Maia was…she was different, clearly.
Her eyes widened when she realized they had her, and within ten seconds, she was out cold, passed out. Everett carefully bent to grab her legs, hoisting her up, cradling her to his chest as he stared down at her. A look of concern crossed his face, the same expression he always wore when he regretted his actions. He was the nicer one out of the two brothers, and Brice hated making him do this.
In a perfect world, none of this would be happening to any of them. To him, to Everett, to Ivy, to Maia.
“Come on,” Brice said. “Let’s get her in the car and tied up before her ride gets here.” He hoped there were no cameras watching, but he couldn’t be sure. Either way, it didn’t much matter, because this wasn’t their city. It wasn’t even their state.
Someone had told Fletcher where Maia was. Someone wanted her to pay for running away from their pack. Whoever had done it, whoever wanted her in chains like a breeding whore, Brice couldn’t linger on it. If he did, he’d start to feel as remorseful as Everett, and it was bad enough one of them already felt sympathy.
As Everett carried her to the car, waiting as Brice opened the back door and got out thick tape and rope, he could not stop staring at her. “Are we…are we sure this is her? I mean, I smell her, but…she smells pretty human, too. And her hair, it’s supposed to be red—”
Brice harshly pulled out a large strip of tape. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to use this on you, first.” The threat was enough to shut his brother up, and they worked to restrain her fully before loading her into the car. Child locks were installed in the back, so even if she woke and somehow got free, she wouldn’t be able to get out. She’d have to crawl over either Brice or Everett to get out in the front.
Pointing to the bench, or more specifically the phone she’d dropped, Brice added, “Get her phone.” The last thing they needed was more evidence. They’d take the phone and drop it in the trash can of a gas station between here and Fletcher’s; a solid day’s drive, at least.
Brice himself could not wait to get out of the American Midwest. Things were too vacant, too empty, even in their so-called cities like this one. He much preferred the green, rolling hills of Appalachia. The wolf in the back wouldn’t, though.
Maia truly had no idea the terrible fate Fletcher had in store for her.
Chapter Three - Violet
When Violet came to, her head hurt like a bitch. A raging bitch on PMS who was in some serious need of chocolate. She was on leather, she realized, slowly opening her eyes. Stuffed into the backseat of a car, tied up with both duct tape and rope, like she was some kind of Houdini who could escape a situation like this easily.
Right.
Because she’d been kidnapped by two albino creeps.
Her eyes opened fully, and she spotted the two albino creeps sitting in the front seat. Not albino exactly, but with the white hair, she was close enough. Plus, being her kidnappers and all, they didn’t really deserve her thought and respect.
Violet struggled to sit; extremely hard to do, given her arms were useless at her sides. Her movement caught the eye of the one in the passenger’s seat, and he turned around to watch her, his gaze an exaggeratingly faked type of kind. Like he gave a shit about her—funny, considering he’d choked her well enough in the parking lot.
The parking lot.
Wait a damn minute. Violet’s gaze flicked to the windows. Past the tinted glass of the back seat—which she was fairly sure was so dark it had to be illegal—she saw daylight. Broad daylight.
Not only that, but also…trees? Hills? This was definitely not the middle of nowhere land she’d been living in the last few years. Where the hell were they?
And why’d they take her? Violet was no one important. Not pretty in the conventional sense. Too short to look twice at. Not curvy enough to warrant any special attention. She was just…she was Violet. She wasn’t special. Not really.
When she returned her glare to the guy in the passenger’s seat, she grunted, her eyes flicking down. Violet probably looked ridiculous and cross-eyed, but she had to get the tape off her mouth. If these guys were taking her to their family barbeque—to be the damned barbeque—she deserved to know. She also wanted to know why.
It was a minute before the guy in the passenger’s seat leaned back, reaching for the tape over her mouth, but the driver practically growled out, “Don’t you dare.”
Violet’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Did a legit growl just come from him? Were these…were these two albino assholes shifters? Oh, great. That was great. Yeah, she felt the opposite of relief when she realized it. If anything, them being shifters made it worse.
“Brice,” the one in the passenger’s seat spoke, “I’m sure she has questions. She’s…I’m
letting her talk. You know Fletcher will have her soon enough.”
So the driver’s name was Brice, Violet thought, instantly hating the name. And Fletcher? Who the hell was Fletcher? If only she could open her mouth and ask, for crying out loud.
The other man reached for the tape drawn across her mouth, slowly tugging it off. It hurt coming off slow just like she knew it’d hurt as badly if it came off quickly. Violet was a fan of never putting tape on her mouth; her lips would be so chapped.
As he peeled it off, almost carefully—which was stupid, because he was the one who had choked her into unconsciousness—he said, “I’m sorry about all of this, for what it’s worth.” Once the tape was off her mouth, he leaned back, as if he was afraid of what she might say.
Good. Because she had a lot to say. Mainly, a lot of swearwords.
“What the flying fuck is wrong with you?” Violet asked, glaring. “Why did you kidnap me? Tell me you’re not taking me to your sister-cousins—tell me you aren’t going to have me for dinner, like eat me or something…” She paused. “You damned shifters. You know how easy my life was before you shifters came rushing into it headfirst like a bunch of freaks?”
Although, to be fair, the shifters were in her life long before she actually knew they were shifters. Alarick, Farkas, and Grimm, at least. Maia, well. Maia had come after, and Maia was her friend.
Okay, maybe not all shifters were bad, but these guys made her want to pull her hair out.
Brice mumbled from the driver’s seat, “Will you shut her up already? I told you to leave her be, didn’t I?” Mostly to himself, he added, “Why do you always have to make this so difficult?”
“Unlike you,” the other one shot back, “I find it hard to pretend these girls are worthless. Maia is a shifter just like us, and she deserves some answers. Wouldn’t you want answers if you were in her position?”
“I’m not in her position, because I was born with the right set of equipment,” Brice growled. “As were you, Everett. I would think on that next time, before you go blowing this out of proportion. This is the way things are—”
Violet cut in, leaning between the two bickering shifters, “Uh, excuse me? Why did you just call me Maia?” From the look of it, they were brothers. Brice looked older by a few years, while Everett, the gentler kidnapper, was the younger one. Both were too close to her age for her liking. They were both cute in their own way.
She really couldn’t trust anyone these days, could she?
Brice’s blue eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, meeting hers, while Everett slowly suggested, “Because…that’s your name?” A beat before it started to register, before Violet’s temper took over, forcing the next words out of her mouth.
“You kidnapped me because you thought I was Maia?” Violet practically shouted, her voice far too loud in the enclosed, inside space of the car. “Maia’s a shifter! With red hair! How could you confuse me for her?”
“You…kind of smell like a shifter,” Everett added. “And Brice thought you dyed your hair…”
Violet wanted to yell, wanted to swear up a storm—because how ridiculous and asinine and just downright stupid—but then she put two and two together. These shifters would’ve taken Maia. Maia, the pregnant woman who already had three men who loved her. Maia, who was ready to pop. Maia, who probably already had given birth to her baby while these freaks were busy kidnapping her.
Hmm. Maybe it was a good thing these two were absolute idiots. Complete dolts. Whatever they planned on doing with her, whoever this Fletcher guy was, it was not something a pregnant woman should have to deal with.
The sheer stupidity of these idiots. Ugh.
Everett threw a look at Brice. “Glad I undid her mouth now? What the hell are we going to do? Turn around and go back?”
“No. No going back. We take her to Fletcher and pretend we didn’t know.” But Brice sounded unsure, which he should, because it was a stupid plan. Shifters could sense each other—it wouldn’t be but a fucking second before they knew Violet was human and not Maia.
“Where are you taking me?” Violet asked. “Who is Fletcher? Why are you taking me to him?”
Brice fumed in the driver’s seat while Everett sought to answer her questions, “Fletcher is…the man we work for. We’re heading into the mountains, because that’s where the grounds are. He…he collects female shifters and sells time with them to the highest payer.”
So he forcibly whores them out, and if they get pregnant, he probably makes people pay for the babies, too. Violet wanted to scream. This was so screwed up, on so many different levels. She didn’t even know where to start.
“Your boss is paying you to kidnap shifters? He’s a pimp—”
Brice chuckled. It was an ugly sound that made Violet’s nerves freeze. “Better not call him that when you meet him. You should be on your best behavior—he’ll be pissed at us for bringing you by mistake, but he will make use of you.” As soon as he said it, he winced, as if he regretted his choice of words, but Violet heard him loud and clear.
Brice was asshole number one.
Everett was asshole number two, only slightly better. Not by much.
“I’m sorry about him,” Everett said. “He’s just…we’re both only doing this because we have to. We don’t enjoy it.”
Was that supposed to make her feel sorry for them? Oh, boo-hoo, they didn’t enjoy kidnapping female shifters and taking them to the man who sold them to whoever had the money to pay? Here’s a thought: stop kidnapping people.
Violet glared. “Everyone has a choice.” She sat back in her seat, turning her head to glare silently out of the window. She would’ve crossed her arms too, had they not been attached firmly to her sides.
If anyone deserved to pout right now without seeming childish, it was her.
The car was silent for a while, which was fine with her. Violet didn’t want to talk to these assholes any more than she had to. She supposed she should have used the time to come up with a plan, but she was more freaked out than her calm tone lead on. She was kidnapped, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t a game; it was her life.
Her very human life.
Granted, it wasn’t like she’d been using her life to its best capabilities lately, but it didn’t mean she wanted to be mistaken for her friend and kidnapped—all because she wore Maia’s workout clothes.
What a crock of crap.
A soft voice broke her out of her misery, “What’s your name?”
She was slow to meet Everett’s hazel eyes. A pretty color, not that she’d ever admit it aloud. He wasn’t the worst-looking guy she’d seen, even with the white hair. He and Brice were just like Alarick, Farkas, and Grimm in that they were large and muscular, chiseled in all the ways that made normal women wet their panties in desire.
For Violet? Their looks did absolutely nothing. They might as well have been two gargoyles sitting in the front seat. She didn’t give a single shit.
Still, it wasn’t Everett’s looks that got to her, it was the tone of his voice. So soft and soothing, warm and gentle, almost like he was talking to someone he cared about. Violet was no one to him, but she didn’t think his tone was a faked kind of sincere. All the emotion in his voice was real, and maybe that’s the reason she told him.
“Violet.”
She pretended not to notice the way he smiled at her. Everett’s smile was a slightly crooked grin, just a hair away from being perfect, like shifters were in every other way. She would not let his kindness sway her.
Violet would get out of this, somehow. She’d survive this. She had to.
How long had they been driving? How far would her scent carry? She was human, so she wasn’t quite sure how it all worked, but she knew everyone had their own unique scent. Shifters could track the scent for a while, but inside a car as it drove away? That might’ve been pushing it a bit too far.
Odds were she was royally fucked, and not in a good way.
Her mind raced a mile a minute, and she found he
rself asking, “So, Brice. Everett. You two got any music in here? Any satellite radio? Something to break this silence? Because it’s killing me—probably not the best choice of words, I know, but I think they fit.”
When Everett started to say something, Brice cut him off with a glare, and he sunk back in his seat, slouching.
Violet wasn’t quite finished. “Anyone up for a game of I-Spy?” If these assholes were going to take her to a place where she’d be raped and beaten and killed—maybe not even in that order—the least she could do was make their drive a miserable one. Until they decided to cover her mouth with duct tape again.
Everett chuckled. “I could—” Again, the party pooper that was Brice shot him a glare. Instead of shrinking away, he glared right back. “What? Why not? We’ve still got a few hours to go, and since you refuse to turn on the radio, I-Spy is a good option.” A moment before he turned around to meet Violet’s gaze. “What exactly is I-Spy?”
What was…
She gawked at him. What kind of person didn’t know what I-Spy was? What kind of life did shifters have? What kind of childhoods?
With a sigh, Violet said, “I’ll teach you.”
The look that danced across Everett’s face was cute, and she had to look away. If she kept focusing on how normal and nice he was, she might start to feel bad about plotting to escape. She would get out of this, somehow.
Maybe.
Chapter Four - Everett
If anyone got to claim the I-knew-it-first card, it was Everett. He’d questioned Brice about her hair color, to which his brother had just insisted she’d dyed it. Okay, it was a logical response, but then when she didn’t notice how they approached her? Another red flag, a red flag both of them should’ve paid more attention to.
The biggest red flag was when he was behind her though, his arm around her neck, tiny as it was. He smelled her. Really smelled her. Not the scent on the clothes, but her hair. She wore two scents, and during the night, he wasn’t sure what to hope for.
Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 2
