“No,” Claire looked back at Davis as he rose from his seat. “I was just leaving. How was the run?”
“Brisk.” She smiled briefly. “We feel better though. Rebel was restless, so he decided to head back to the dorm. Just wanted to let you guys know I was leaving too.”
Sure enough, they all heard the sound of Rebel’s—formerly Jason’s—motorcycle roar to life. It soon began to die away into the distance.
“Seems like the party’s finally winding down,” Davis said, attempting a joke, but no one laughed. Cheyenne hesitated, her hand on the door.
“So do we just lock up for when Jason comes back?”
“I’m sure he has a key, yeah,” Claire said. Cheyenne leaned out of the doorway just enough for Claire to pass. She grabbed her jacket from the coat tree by the door. “We’ll lock up.”
“Do you want me to drive you?” Davis asked. Claire stared at him a moment, then looked to Cheyenne. Cheyenne lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. Claire nodded.
“All right, at least then you won’t be falling asleep behind the wheel.”
Claire smiled a bit. “You’ve had just as much sleep as I have, maybe less.”
“Maybe, but I’m not tired.” Even as he said it, Davis began to yawn. He tried to stifle it but unsuccessfully. Claire laughed softly.
“You’re a horrible liar,” she said, and she stopped laughing. Cheyenne looked at them with the same bemused expression as before.
“Well, let’s go then,” she said, grabbing her own coat. “I want to get some sleep and you gotta do whatever it is you gotta do.” Her tone seemed mildly suggestive and Claire was furious to find heat rising to her face. She hadn’t been thinking of anything like that, but with the suggestion planted, she was now. She glanced over at Davis. His face reddened.
“I’m just driving her to the PRDI, so she can get some sleep. I have things to do.”
“We all have things to do,” Cheyenne said and she grinned again. Davis grinned back, somewhat goofily.
“Oh shut up,” Claire said. “It’s not like that.” Davis’s goofy grin died.
“Take it easy,” Cheyenne said, unperturbed. She knew when to stop, unlike some of the pack. “I was just joking.”
“I know.”
“Well, forget about it and let’s go. I’m anxious to curl up in my bed.”
“Me too.” Davis held the front door open for the women. Claire wondered if he was being chivalrous just to get on her good side, or if he was just being naturally polite. She ignored it.
Davis snapped the lock on the door and shut it behind them. They were silent as they made their way down the steps and toward their vehicles. Claire stood back and grabbed Davis by the sleeve of his jacket. He stopped, letting Cheyenne pass them and continue toward her truck.
“Thanks, Davis,” she said softly. He stared at her, even as Cheyenne climbed into the cab of her truck and slammed the door.
“For what?”
Claire sighed, then shook her head. She smiled slightly.
“Never mind,” she said in the same soft voice. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he said, curious now.
“No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”
Claire pulled away before Davis had a chance to question it further. She wasn't really sure what it was she was thanking him for. Just seemed like the right thing to say. She took a deep breath as she climbed into the PRDI car.
Cheyenne started the engine of her Dodge Ram and was backing up. She waved a hand at them. Claire returned a tentative wave of her own from the passenger's seat. Davis held his hand up in salute, watching as Cheyenne began the long drive to the road.
He stood there a moment longer, apparently in deep thought. Claire wondered what he was thinking about. Probably their relationship. She had been thinking about it herself.
Were things okay between them now? The signs were subtle. It seemed so odd that they would be brought together under terrible circumstances. Once she thought about it, it didn’t seem so odd, just ironic. They had met, after all, when they were under Simon’s command. It didn’t seem like a good way to start a relationship. Were they doomed from the very beginning?
Claire slipped out of her reverie just in time to see him look up and make his way to the car. Claire smiled gently at him as he climbed into the driver’s seat. His hand was warm when she clasped it.
It can’t be that doomed, she reasoned as she leaned in impulsively to kiss him. It could still work out. It had to.
Neither of them had to wonder any more. His returning kiss was answer enough.
* * *
“Get off me,” Rose growled. Simon, sweaty from the mating, grinned lewdly at her. She could not fight him, handcuffed as she was to the pipe above her.
“You can’t say you didn’t enjoy that,” he said, low against her ear. Rose turned her head toward the wall. A part of her had enjoyed it. She was ashamed to admit it, even to herself. The wolf was once again sated, sleeping comfortably somewhere in her mind.
Rose suddenly hated her for her impulsiveness and inability to control her lustful nature. But she was in heat; she couldn’t help it. She felt dirty from Simon’s advances, dirty from sweat and sex. She wanted a shower, she wanted out of this place and away from him, but the chain holding the metal bracelets together did little to budge. She was stuck there until Simon let her go.
“Get away from me,” she said again, but she didn’t have the strength to growl it at him. She kept her face to the wall, ignoring the hot tears that slid down her cheek and onto her neck.
Simon chuckled as he finally did move away from her. She felt his weight leave the bed, heard the jingle of the keys in his pocket as he grabbed his jeans from the floor. The keys were her only chance of getting out of this room, but she had to get out of the handcuffs first.
She remembered a movie long ago, where a man had dislocated his thumb to slip out of the handcuffs. She had considered doing just that. After all, she was a werewolf and she would heal quickly, but the handcuffs were too tight on her wrists. There was no way she could slide them off. She quickly put that thought out of her mind and considered other options.
There were no other options.
She smelt the cigarette as Simon took it from the pocket of his jeans and held it to his lips. There was a flick and then the smell of smoke became strong. Rose did not turn to look at him. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.
“I don’t understand why you’re so shy all of a sudden,” he said, laughter in his tone. She heard his footfalls as he crossed the floor. The chair creaked as he sat down in it. She chose not to answer him. She stared at the wall, unseeing.
“It’s good to be home,” Simon said, his one-sided conversation changing course. Rose turned her head finally, eyeing him across the room. The dim bulb gave off plenty of light, and she could see him silhouetted against the wall. He looked away from her, toward the door. His gaze trailed along the floor, the wall. He seemed thoughtful. “Yes, good to be home.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve sunk so low as to live in this hellhole,” Rose said. She wanted to insult him, burn him in some way, but her words seemed childish and without threat.
Simon did not look at her right away, but when he did, she could see his words had an interesting effect on him. Instead of being upset, he seemed amused. His thin lips curled into a hateful grin.
“I used to think like that too, when I was still a kid. I used to think this place was a hellhole. Truth be told, it’s even less so now than it was.” He leaned forward in his seat, his dark eyes focusing intently on her. He waved his cigarette in a wide circle. “There used to be a house here. All that’s left now is this basement. I used to live here, once, with parents, with a family, but that’s all gone now.”
Rose suddenly felt sick, like she did the first time Simon confronted her about his ultimate plan and how it involved mating with her to produce strong full-blood children. She didn’t want to know, she didn
’t want to hear. She wanted to cover her ears, close her eyes and shut him out. But she couldn’t.
“You see, back then I had different ideas about werewolves. I didn’t like who we were. We were always hiding, keeping secrets from friends, but I didn’t understand it. My parents were like that, especially my father.” His voice became heavily bitter. He stopped talking and sighed. “That doesn’t matter though. That’s all in the past. What matters now is that they are gone, and we are here and this is how it was meant to be.”
“How what was meant to be?” Rose wanted to know. Simon regarded her with his dark stare and waited an interval of a few moments before he spoke.
“How our world was meant to be,” he said. “Don’t you see, Rose? We are two of a kind, strong and powerful full-bloods. We can make things right for us. We can make our kind the dominant species again. We’ll weed out all the weak ones: the changed bloods, the half-bloods, and we’ll even rise above the humans. We’ll start a new breed of our kind, the strongest ever. We won’t have to hide any more. We won’t have to be afraid.”
It was the same plan, Rose realized with horror, only different, more demented. He was going to use her to begin his new race of strong full-bloods. He was on the same crusade as before, but with more purpose this time.
“It’ll never work, Simon. You can’t fight the world.”
“Oh, but I’ve already started. Right here, in this very place, I started it.”
Rose didn’t understand what he meant. Her head swam. Her stomach leapt. She was going to be sick.
“I—I don’t know what you mean.” Her voice trembled. Simon’s eyes were brilliantly yellow. She couldn’t look at him. They were the eyes of a crazy madman, a crazy werewolf.
“Yes, you do, Rose, you know what I mean. Right here, thirteen years ago, I knew what I was going to do. I knew what I had to do. I had to get rid of all the werewolves. I had to destroy as many as I could to reduce the resistance much later and to thin out the weak.” He paused. A smirk spread across his face. “I started with my parents.”
Rose stared at him, unable to comprehend at first, but then she understood.
“It was a fire, a simple enough accident.” Rose could smell the burnt wood. She trembled, as Simon continued. “I killed them as they slept, with Dad’s revolver. Then I burned the bodies. Of course, I had to plant someone there to pose as myself. That wasn’t very hard to do, what with the homeless and stuff. It was a terrible tragedy. The whole neighborhood was shocked.” Simon laughed, remembering. “I left town that night. It was hard at first, without money or weapons, but I soon got connections and I began hunting werewolves a few years later—”
“No!” Rose shouted at him, “I don’t want to hear any more.”
Simon’s laughing expression was soon replaced by one of fury. “Don’t interrupt me,” he yelled back, rising from his seat and clenching his fist. “I have to tell you this so you can understand.”
“I don’t want to understand,” she sobbed. The tears broke from her and she couldn’t stop them. “Goddamn you, Simon.”
Simon went silent, saying nothing as she cried it out. Soon, her tears subsided and she was also silent. She was angry now. She could feel it welling up inside her, ready to explode.
“I don’t care what your motives are, but I am not going to let you do this.”
“There’s not much you can do,” Simon said. He seemed calmer now and ready to continue. “You will do what I say, or you will die.”
“Then I would rather die,” Rose said, fiercely.
Simon laughed deep in his throat. “I can grant that, but not for a while yet. After all, I do want to have full-blood children.”
“Oh, you bastard.”
Simon chuckled. “Call me whatever you want. It won’t matter.”
His laughter and taunts maddened her. She cried out desperately, “Jason will find me and he will kill you.”
It pushed a button because Simon’s eyes flashed golden again, angry. His temple throbbed and the color drained from his face.
“Never say that name again.”
Rose dared. “Jason.”
Simon exhaled sharply through his nostrils, flaring them. “That poor excuse for a mutt will get what’s coming to him, I will guarantee that. I’ve searched long and hard for him, and now that I have you, I know he’ll show up. I’m counting on it.” The anger seemed to dispel, because Simon grinned. “I’ll take my time with him though. I want you to watch while I make him suffer.”
Rose was desperate. She had no other cards to play, no insults to throw at him, nothing. She felt her heart sink.
“I think you’ll enjoy watching the show of dominance. Two males fighting over the female, the victor to become alpha male. You can’t deny that it excites you.” Simon’s grin widened. “I can smell it.”
He was right. The wolf was ready for another go. Rose felt the waves of it beginning to consume her.
“No,” she said aloud, willing the wolf back down. “You will not have your fun this time.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” Simon said as he approached her. He thought she was talking to him. He dropped his cigarette and crushed it underfoot. “It’ll be lots of fun.”
“No,” Rose whispered. She closed her eyes, beginning to renew her struggle. In her mind she saw Jason, battered and bloody from his first meeting with Simon. She remembered Simon attacking him, the blood everywhere, Jason close to death.
Remember that, she told the wolf. Remember what he did to your mate. You cannot let him do this. You cannot let him win!
The wolf stirred and backed down a bit. She remembered, but she was still aroused. Simon’s full-blood scent was strong and continued to call to her. Rose felt her giving in. She pulled on the handcuffs chain, just as Simon reached the bed.
“I bet you were never this wild with Jason,” he said as he crawled onto the bed and pushed apart her legs.
The wolf was suddenly angry. Something sparked within her and the hatred that had been boiling within Rose finally made the wolf snap. She turned to him, snarling. The wolf’s strength flowed through Rose and gave her the edge she needed.
She gave one final, mighty pull. The pipe above her burst from the wall, spilling cement dust into her face. Her hands slid free from the pipe, still bound together by the handcuffs. She coughed and sputtered, the dust in her face.
Simon was in shock. He didn’t have a moment to react because the wolf was quick. She moved fast, scrambling to get out from under Simon. He had been ready to pin Rose down, but when she moved, he toppled forward onto the bed. She took advantage of the opportunity and rolled onto his backside, pressing her knee firmly into the small of his back. She slipped her bound hands around his neck and pressed the chain against his throat. She pulled back with all her might. The wolf lent her the strength and she used it to her advantage.
Simon clawed at the bed, trying to throw her off his back but Rose was strong. He bucked, trying to dislodge her. She didn’t release the hold until Simon stopped moving and lay motionless on the bed.
She sat there a moment, pressed against his back and panting hard. Even the wolf had to admit the struggle gave her more satisfaction than sex. Without wanting to waste another moment, Rose slipped her hands from around his head and began rummaging through his pockets. She found the keys, and with a bit of awkwardness undid the handcuffs.
She hurriedly grabbed her clothes from the floor, slipping her panties and shirt on. She ran to the door, only once looking back at Simon. He hadn’t moved. She hoped the bastard was dead.
Rose found the key with little difficulty and let herself out. Simon’s rust-bucket of a car was waiting for her down the street. She only prayed it would get her home, to Jason.
Chapter Fifteen
When Jason pulled the Camaro in front of the cabin, it was early afternoon. He pulled the car into park and shut the engine off. They would’ve returned much earlier had it not been for a necessary stop at a rest area for a bathroom brea
k and a cup of coffee. Even with the caffeine in his system, Jason was exhausted. Sleep would be very welcomed.
The parking area was empty, save for Glen's van. Jason wasn’t surprised. After all, he hadn’t really expected them to stay.
He stepped out of the car, slamming the door. Glen followed him to the cabin, his arms laden with folders and papers. Jason turned back to look at him. Like himself, Glen seemed exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot. He trudged up the steps behind Jason and waited for him to unlock the door.
Jason unlocked the door and pushed it open for Glen to pass. He walked into the dark room and tossed the heavy folders onto the couch, thankful to get them out of his arms. He sank into the chair with a long sigh. Jason flipped on the light. Though it was afternoon, it was dark and somewhat dank in the cabin. The light did little to help.
There was silence now. Both were tired and wanted this ordeal over and done with. Small talk wasn’t on the agenda. But not liking the silence and wanting to say something, anything to lighten the mood, Glen breached the quiet.
“I don’t see the point in locking the door,” he said, looking at the broken out window of the patio doors. “Anyone could just walk in here. You should really get that replaced.”
“Yeah,” Jason said absently. He didn’t care about people breaking in. They lived out in the middle of nowhere. The worst they might’ve had to worry about was animals getting inside, but after having Simon break through and do his damage, Jason’s idea of “the worst” changed.
“The cabin’s security isn’t my top priority,” he added as he disappeared into the kitchen.
Jason opened the fridge and removed a soda. He popped the top on the can and chugged it. He belched and tossed the can aside. He grabbed one for Glen and shut the door.
Glen was stretched out, his feet propped up on the arm of the couch. Rose hated when anyone did that, Jason thought as he looked over at him. He felt a stab of pain suddenly around his heart and a wave of panic overtook him. Rose was gone.
“Don’t do that,” he was able to say. He looked away, closing his eyes. He heard Glen drop his feet.
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