Rosalie Undone (Book Six)

by Elizabeth Kelly

  “Sorry, man. Was supposed to deliver it for him, but I kept it. Shouldn’t have, but I needed it. Sorry for fucking up so bad,” Samuel whispered.

  “It’s okay. We’ll fix it together. You and me.” Hudson rested his forehead against Samuel’s. “Just keep breathing, Samuel.”

  “Too late,” Samuel whispered again. “Love you, dickhead.”

  Tears streaming down his face, Hudson squeezed the back of Samuel’s skull. “I love you too.”

  Wake up. Oh God. Please. Wake up.

  Samuel’s breath hitched once, twice, and…silence. Hudson made another low whine, staring into his friend’s empty gaze before kissing Samuel’s forehead. He closed his eyes, tears still slipping out from his closed eyelids to splash against Samuel’s face.

  His bear was growling a warning as new scents drifted to him, but he ignored it. What did it matter? Samuel was dead.

  “Ain’t that sweet. Always thought you two were gay for each other.”

  His big body jerked, and he opened his eyes to stare silently at the five shifters standing in the cabin. One of them was smoking a cigarette and he dropped it on the floor, grinding it out beneath his heel as he grinned at Hudson.

  “He had it comin’, man. He stole from me and when you steal from me -”

  Hudson’s growl made him stop and cock his head. “You ain’t seriously thinkin’ you can take on me and my boys, are you?”

  “John,” the shifter to his left gave him a nervous look, “we should go.”

  “Shut up, Paul,” John said dismissively. He stared at his blood-smeared hands before sticking his thumbs through his belt loops. He studied Hudson as the big man placed Samuel’s body gently on the floor and stood. “I’m gonna do you a favour, Hudson, just cause my old man likes you so… god… damn… much. I’m gonna let you walk out of here.”

  Hudson growled again, his big hands tightening into fists. His polar bear was so close to the surface. It wanted to tear apart the five bear shifters in front of him. It wanted – needed – to take its revenge. It wanted blood. His mouth watered in anticipation.

  He held his bear back with the last thread of his self-control as John cocked one heavy eyebrow at him. “You hear me, asshole? You can walk away right now. Or, you can end up in a shallow grave just like your friend.”

  “He’s a polar bear,” the one named Paul said.

  “So fucking what?” John snarled and bared heavy fangs at him. “You’re a fucking bear too, or have you forgotten that?”

  Wake up. Please wake up.

  Paul shook his head, and John growled again before turning back to Hudson. “What do you say, asshole? You gonna do the smart thing or are you going to be just as stupid as old Samuel here and -”

  His tenuous control over his bear shattered when the shifter said Samuel’s name. His bear surged forward, and his clothes shredded around him as he shifted.

  “Kill him,” John said.

  Hudson lifted his head and roared as his bear took control and the world turned black.

  Hudson? Wake up. Please, honey, wake up. Wake up, honey…

  “Please,” John whispered. “Please, I’m sorry.”

  His polar bear retreated and Hudson, his naked body covered in warm blood, stared at the man he had shoved up against the wall with one tight fist around his throat. Blood oozed out between his fingers and he spared a glance around the cabin.

  The other four shifters lay sprawled on the floor, their bodies gory messes of blood and brains, and fur and fractured bone. The cabin was filling with blood, the red pool rising rapidly past his knees and up his thighs. He turned his attention back to the shifter in his grip and bared his fangs at the dying shifter.

  Wake up, Hudson.

  He stared with dreamlike detachment at the loops of intestines that swung back and forth from the gaping hole in John’s abdomen. The river of blood was rising, swallowing the hanging intestines with insidious speed.

  “My father,” John choked out. “If you kill me, he’ll never stop hunting you. He’ll kill you, man, he’ll…”

  Hudson leaned close, his hand moving from John’s throat to grip his sweaty hair. He stared into John’s eyes, at the reflection of the blood and gore covered man he could see in their depths.

  “He can try,” he whispered.

  His fangs lengthened, and he buried his face into the bear shifter’s throat. John’s shrill scream cut off as Hudson tore open his throat with a roar. Warm blood sprayed across his face and he drank it eagerly, rejoicing in the taste of his enemy’s blood, before dropping the dead bear shifter. The river of blood was chest high now and he lifted his head and roared again, a primal scream of rage and despair.

  “Hudson? Please wake up.”

  He whirled and stared wide-eyed at Rosalie. She stood in the middle of the cabin, her curvy body clad in a long white gown that billowed around her. The river of blood parted around her, like Moses parting the Red Sea, and she gave him a pleading look.

  “Please wake up. You’re scaring me.”

  A tidal wave of blood rose behind her, towering to the ceiling of the cabin and he made a sharp roar of fear and lunged for her. The blood surrounding him had turned thick as quicksand and he tried to wade through it, his muscles straining and the cords in his neck standing out.

  “Rosalie!” He screamed as the wave of blood hovered above her. “My mate! Take my hand! Rosalie!”

  He reached for her as the wave of blood washed over her, drenching, drowning, dragging her under. He screamed again and again as her sweet face disappeared beneath the sea of red.

  “Hudson! Hudson, wake up! RIGHT NOW!”

  A stinging slap across his face made him jerk back and he woke with a gasping, shuddering bellow of surprise and fear. He scrambled back in the bed, slamming the back of his head into the heavy headboard so hard that he saw stars.

  “Hudson!” Rosalie was sitting beside him in the bed and he stared wide-eyed at her before yanking her into his lap. He touched her face and her head, and she patted his chest soothingly. Both of them were shaking and when he threw his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck, she comforted him like she would a small child. Rocking his big body back and forth and stroking his hair as she murmured meaningless words of comfort.

  When he had finally stopped shaking, she leaned back a little and stared at his face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Bad dream.”

  “I’ll say.” She looked pale and sick to her stomach.

  “Did I hurt you?” He was suddenly terrified, but she shook her head and grabbed his hands when he ran them over her body.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me. You were just – you sounded scared and I’ve never heard you sound like that before.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I slapped you on the face to wake you up. I’m sorry I did that, but I didn’t know what else to do.” She touched his cheek and pressed a kiss against his throat. “Who’s Samuel?”

  He stiffened beneath her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You kept saying Samuel’s name in your sleep. Is he a friend or -”

  “He’s no one.”

  She frowned. “Obviously he isn’t no one. You were saying his name repeatedly in your sleep.”

  “Let it go, Rosalie.” He could hear the impatience in his voice, but he couldn’t tell Rosalie about Samuel. He couldn’t. It was better and safer that she didn’t know anything about him.

  “Hudson, I’m worried about you. Obviously, he means something to you and obviously you had a terrible dream about him. Why don’t you tell me about it? You’ll feel better, I promise. It helps to talk about -”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” He lifted her off his lap and slid out of the bed, grabbing his jeans and yanking them on as she gave him a hurt look.

  “I’m just trying to help. I don’t -”

  “And I said, let it go.” He glared at her.

  “Fine. I won’t ask you anything ever again.”<
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  “Good,” he snapped.

  Her face was bright red and she looked both pissed off and ready to cry. He yanked his t-shirt over his head and shoved his arms into it. “I gotta go.”

  “Fine,” she said. “If you’re gonna be such a jerk, I don’t want you here anyway.”

  He growled at her, more hurt than angry by her comment, but she just crossed her arms over her chest and gave him another scowl. “I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Jerkface Growlypants.”

  He grabbed his phone and headed toward the bedroom door. “I have to go.”

  “I heard you the first time.”

  He huffed out another growl that sounded embarrassingly like a whine before stomping out of the bedroom.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Rosalie! You’re not listening to a word I say and haven’t been since you got here. What is wrong with you?”

  “Sorry, Mom.” Rosalie gave her mother a faint smile. “Just a long day.”

  “Well, you need to put it behind you when you’re here with me. It’s rude to be so preoccupied and distant when you’re visiting someone,” her mother said. “You haven’t even complimented me on my new haircut.”

  “It looks really good,” Rosalie said.

  Her mother sniffed before staring at the TV screen. Wheel of Fortune was playing, and she made a face. “That man is a shifter. I can tell. He has very ratlike features. Ever since they started letting those filthy animals onto the show, it’s become a joke. I’m surprised Mr. Sajak even agreed to it. He stands so close to the contestants, one of them could just rip his head off before he knew it.”

  “They wouldn’t do that, Mom. Shifters aren’t that much different from humans.”

  “How would you know?” Her mother snapped.

  “I work for one, remember?”

  “I do, and I have to tell you, I’ve never trusted that Shepherd guy. He’s hinky, Rosalie. He’s hinky, and you can’t see it because he’s a smooth talker.”

  Rosalie stared numbly at the television. “Jace is a good guy.”

  “Is he though? You know, one time when I dropped by your office, he was a little too friendly. Going on and on about how amazing you were, and how the office would be lost without you. He was acting like you ran the whole place instead of just being a secretary. And I swear I could smell meat on his breath. I bet he eats raw meat every night, he probably has all sorts of worms and other diseases just coursing through his body. You know, I saw on the news the other night that…”

  Rosalie continued to stare blankly at the television as she drowned out her mother’s voice. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before and for one brief moment of insanity, she considered telling her mother that she was banging a shifter. Maybe it would shock her into silence and they could finish watching Wheel of Fortune in peace and quiet.

  If she hadn’t been so miserable, she would have laughed at the thought of telling her mother about Hudson. Knowing her daughter was sleeping with a shifter wouldn’t just shock her mother into silence, it would give her a damn stroke.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall above the television. Almost seven. Hudson would be at work by now. Before their fight, she was going to ask him if he wanted to come by once his shift was over, but now….

  She sighed and blinked back the hot tears. Crying over her fight with Hudson wouldn’t help. She had fucked up with him and the only thing she could do was apologize and hope he still wanted to teach her some kink.

  He won’t, Rosalie. He was mad when he left. You just had to keep pushing him to talk, didn’t you? What’s that old saying? Don’t poke the bear. Well you poked him all right, and now he’ll never sleep with you again. Hell, he’ll probably never talk to you again.

  Panic made her pulse thud heavily. The thought of not sleeping with Hudson was a dismaying one, but the thought of never speaking to him again? That made her sick to her stomach.

  Fuck, she was so stupid. Did she really think that she could sleep with Hudson and not ruin their friendship? Why did she –

  “Rosalie!”

  She twitched and stared at her mother. “Sorry, what?”

  “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you? What is going on with you? First you hardly eat a bite of supper – I worked really hard on that casserole, you know – and now you won’t grunt out two words and you’re ignoring me. If you’re not going to pay attention to me, maybe you should just go.”

  Rosalie stared at her mother. That was it. She could fix things with Hudson. She just needed a peace offering. She stood up and grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair. “You’re right. I should go, Mom.”

  Her mother gave her a startled look. “What?”

  “I said you’re right. I’m in a terrible mood and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I’m gonna go.” She bent and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I love you.”

  “Well, are you… I mean, will I see you tomorrow?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t come by tomorrow night, but I’ll text you. Love you, bye!”

  * * *

  She stood outside of Bud’s Bar, a plastic container full of lasagna in her hands.

  Just go inside, Rosalie.

  Right. Go inside. All by herself. Into a bar that’s primarily for paranormals.

  You’ve been in there before. Besides, it’ll take you five minutes to hand the food to Hudson, apologize, and invite him back to your place after he’s finished work. Just walk through that door and do it.

  She took a deep breath, grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. She walked into the bar and slowed to a stop. The place was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday night. A few of the shifters closest to her were giving her curious looks. She ignored them and stared at the bar. Hudson wasn’t behind it and her fledgling courage failed immediately.

  She backed up, making a sharp cry of surprise when she ran into something warm and hard.

  “Watch where you’re going, for God’s sake.”

  She whipped around, staring at the irate shifter behind her. He was about her height, and he had a thick dark beard and angry black eyes. He glanced at his companion, a smaller man with buck teeth and a wisp of a mustache. “Humans. You know, I ain’t so happy about the fact that this place is just letting in humans left and right. Remember when it used to be a paranormal-only bar? Why the fuck is the new owner messing with that?”

  His companion shrugged, and the shifter turned back to Rosalie. He eyed her up and down, and she swallowed heavily when a new light shone in his eyes. He gave her a hard grin. “You ain’t bad lookin’ for a human. You lookin’ for a shifter to fuck, baby? Is that it? Is that why you’re -”

  “Eddie, don’t.” His companion said.

  Eddie scowled at him and the companion sniffed at Rosalie before jerking his head toward the bar. “She smells like him. You really wanna fuckin’ mess with his woman?”

  Eddie stared at Rosalie before leaning forward and sniffing at her. He immediately backed up a few steps before glancing at the bar. “Excuse me, ma’am. Didn’t mean to upset you. Have a good night.”

  He and the smaller man walked away. She stared at the container of lasagna in her hand as her heart thudded and thumped. She was okay. She was fine. A woman walked by her, she had the lithe grace of a large cat, and she sniffed at Rosalie before glancing at the bar.

  Rosalie followed her gaze, but there was still no sign of Hudson. Before she could turn and run out of the bar, a familiar voice said. “Rosalie? Hey, how’s it going?”

  She looked up, relief coursing through her. “Hi, Judd. Good. How are you?”

  He studied her, a line creasing between his eyebrows. “You’re pale. You okay?”

  “Uh, yes. I’m fine. I was just looking for Hudson. I thought he was working tonight, but he isn’t here.”

  “He’s here. He’s just grabbing a keg from the back – there he is now.”

  She looked toward the bar, lust immediately licking along her veins. Hudson was walking out of the back
hallway, one arm balancing a keg on his broad shoulder. God, he was so strong. She studied the flatness of his belly and the thickness of his thighs through his jeans as another wave of lust rolled through her.

  Judd grinned at her. “Before Hudson came along, it took three of us to move a keg from the back to under the bar. I think Porter’s gonna give him a raise just based on him moving the kegs by himself.”

  She smiled uncertainly, her horniness taking a back seat to the anxiety that had made a sudden and unwelcome return.

  “That smells good.” Judd pointed to the container in her hands. “Lasagna?”

  “Yes. I made it for Hudson for dinner.” Oh God, she sounded so stupid.

  “Nice. Here, I’ll walk you up to the bar,” Judd said.

  “Oh, uh, that’s okay. Maybe you could just give it to him? I know he’s busy and -”

  Judd shook his head. “Nah, he won’t mind if you say a quick hello. C’mon.”

  He placed a hand near but not quite touching her lower back and started forward, leaving her no choice but to walk with him. Porter was moving the empty keg out of its place under the long, smooth bar. Hudson replaced it with the full one and Porter connected it as Hudson heaved the empty keg up to his shoulder before heading toward the back hallway.

  “Yo, Hudson. Rosalie’s here,” Judd said.

  Hudson froze at the entrance to the hallway. He turned around slowly, and Rosalie gave him a small wave. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he grunted. “Be right back.”

  He turned and walked into the hallway. Judd smiled at her and patted a bar stool. “Have a seat, Rosalie.”

  “Thanks.” She slid onto the bar stool, setting the container of lasagna down as Porter stopped in front of her.

  “Hey, Rosalie. How’s it…”

  He stopped and inhaled deeply. She blushed furiously as he grinned at her. “How’s it going?”

  “Uh, good. How are you?”

  “Good. You’re here to see Hudson, huh?”

  “I brought him dinner,” she said stupidly.

  “Nice. Can I get you something to drink?”