by Mary Hughes
Gabriel snarled. She needed his help, and she needed it now. He started his engine.
The ferry gate opened. The first car crept onto the auto deck. A glance at his phone showed it to be eight o’clock.
“Scrambled eggs and damn.” Mentally, he was already doing the math. The wolf pack quartered in a condo complex near Scottville, maybe fifteen minutes from here via US 10, another fifteen minutes back. Considering he’d have to break into the alpha’s strongroom, could he make it there, free Emma, and drive back in time to catch the ferry?
With sail time set for half an hour from now, it seemed unlikely.
He dug his free hand into his hair. Rescuing Emma might make him miss the ferry. Missing the ferry might make him late helping Sophia.
Might make him too late to save his sister’s life.
“D-Dr. Light? Are you there?”
Emma’s voice was so small, so hopeless.
Swearing again, he swerved out of line, spun a U-ey and, tires screaming, tore out of there. “I’m coming, Emma. Just hang on.”
Chapter Four
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
At the rough growl, Emma spun to see Bruiser stride into the room. Before she could stop him, he snatched her phone from her frozen hand and threw it to the floor, so hard it cracked and burst into a pile of component parts.
She stared at it, trembling, swallowing hard, swallowing again. As a Techie Titan, given enough time and spare parts, she could put the thing back together.
But the shock of his violence, the sight of her poor phone there on the floor, insulted, broken, its usefulness disrespected and ultimately devalued, made her feel fragile. Helpless.
No, it was worse than that. He’d smashed, not just the phone, but her connection to Dr. Light. Without it, she felt lost.
Utterly alone.
How would Dr. Light know where to find her now? Her condo’s address was listed on the employee application, not her alpha’s. Although Dr. Light was smart. He might figure it out.
She didn’t know if the idea relieved her or scared her worse. Human against alpha wolf—the math wasn’t comforting.
Bruiser latched onto her wrist and hauled her stumbling from the room. She tried to put on the brakes. “What are you doing? Moonrise isn’t for another hour.”
“Pre-ritual ritual.” His lecherous grin curdled her stomach.
He dragged her out of the condo and across the hallway into 1B, where three thin, bruised women cowered in a living room that had once been pretty but was now threadbare, its wallpaper faded, its furniture and decorations tattered.
“Ladies. You get another roommate tonight.” He pointed at one, a dishwater blonde. “You. Go get the drink.”
The blonde leaped to her feet—and tottered a moment, off balance because of the protuberance of her belly. She was pregnant.
Emma swallowed bile. This was Bruiser’s harem. These women looked so unhappy, so beaten.
How long would it take the he-wolf to make her look like them?
The blonde slunk back in with a plastic tumbler, offering it to Bruiser with a thin, trembling hand.
Emma’s veins iced. Her single advantage was mobility. Gone, if he drugged her. “What is that?”
“You ask a lot of questions. I thought it was cuz you’re smart, but now I think it’s cuz you’re a nosy bitch. Shut up and drink.”
He grabbed the glass from the blonde and shoved it into Emma’s face.
One whiff told her it was laced with barbiturates.
Smart? Damn it, she had to be smart now, smarter than Bruiser—or at least smart enough to think her way out of the immediate threat, drinking this crap.
Seemed impossible, with him watching so closely.
Her shoulders slumped. Maybe it was for the best. Her chances of escaping were thin; her chance of rescue even thinner. If she drank the drugged liquid, at least she wouldn’t be horrifyingly conscious for the abuse coming. She reached for the glass.
Her hand trembled like the blonde’s.
Fuck, no way. She was not going gentle into that good night. Bruiser might win in the end, but she was going to fight him with tooth and claw the whole way, even if blood ran down her fur…
Wait, that was it. She had to drink—but the liquid didn’t have to go in her stomach.
“Fine.” She snatched the tumbler from him, opened her mouth wide, and lifted the rim to her lips.
His leer as he watched her turned her stomach.
She cheated slightly to the side, angling so he couldn’t see the corner of her mouth, and let the stuff dribble down her jaw, into her hair, and down the back of her shirt.
“There.” She thrust the glass back at him with one hand while pretending to wipe the taste from her mouth with the other—and actually squeegeeing the stuff off her cheek. She could only hope the liquid got sufficiently absorbed by her hair and Choice Buy polo and didn’t drip off her butt. Thank goodness the shirt was already dark.
“Good girl. You’re learning. Guess you really are smart.” His tone was mocking and his leer cruel as he tossed the glass at the pregnant woman, grabbed Emma’s by-now sore wrist, and dragged her out the door of 1B.
“Isn’t it too early to leave?” Her words were panted, cold breath rasping in and out of her lungs. She didn’t have to work too hard to slur in pretend stupor—fear did it for her. Whatever thin chance she had of Dr. Light figuring out enough to rescue her here, she’d have none at all if she was no longer here to be rescued.
Hauling her through a lobby full of wolves making a big show of minding their own business, Bruiser waggled eyebrows at her. “We need time for a little pre-ritual cavity check, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re—oh.” That went beyond insinuation straight to yuck.
He was taking her to the Manistee forest, now. The pack had sacred ground there, surrounded by talismans that cloaked their ritual place from the forestry service and other mundane eyes, bought at great cost from a powerful nearby witch.
Dr. Light, for all his brilliance, would never find her.
She started fighting Bruiser with everything she had, struggling and scratching and clawing.
He backhanded her into the lobby wall.
She slid to the floor. He grabbed her wrist and wrenched her to her wavering feet. As he wrestled her out the front of the condo building, she clenched her eyes in pain, a tear threading hot along her cheek.
She’d never see Dr. Light again. Never smell his crisp, masculine scent. Never see the twinkle in his blue-green eyes. Never hear another awful, beautiful bad joke.
The roar of a powerful engine and squeal of tires snapped her eyes open. A sports car swung into the parking lot, low, sleek, and topless.
And filled with a furious Gabriel Light.
“Oh no you don’t!” Dr. Light roared over the engine. He screeched to a stuck-gum stop inches from Bruiser’s toes. Vaulting from the driver’s seat, he leaped over the passenger door into a flying tackle.
Bruiser tried to hang onto her, but Dr. Light’s fists pummeled the he-wolf’s face and gut with furious speed. With a roar of his own, Bruiser released her to defend himself.
The instant Bruiser let her go, Dr. Light shoved him to the side with a stupendous flex of muscle, reached past the flailing wolfman, and lifted her from the sidewalk. Not even sweeping her off her feet, but a grab-and-go, plucking her from the ground and planting her in the passenger seat of the car with more speed than finesse.
She didn’t mind. A fairytale prince couldn’t have rescued her any better.
Another athletic leap, using one arm like a pole, vaulted him into the driver seat. He hit the gas, and the car zoomed forward.
She spared a thought for those poor women in Bruiser’s harem. First chance she got, she’d have to do something for them. But now… She twisted in her seat.
The he-wolf was running for his monster truck. As he hopped in, she clutched her seat. She knew from experience that thing could
eat up the road.
Dr. Light spun a turn, switching ass for engine, and, flicking gear paddles, roared out of the lot, throwing her back in the seat, not accelerating so much as teleporting.
“Put on your seat belt,” he shouted at her. “There’s some road construction.” A sign announced Bumps ahead.
She’d barely clicked the belt in place when they hit the first bump—or rather a plunge the size of a continental shelf. Pavement dropped away to be replaced by road bed a couple inches below. With the low-slung car’s hard suspension, she felt it like a direct hit to her skeleton.
Worse, Dr. Light had to ease off the accelerator. “Sorry.”
“I’m fine. You can speed up.” Emma twisted to check their six, her hair whipping in her face, drug-sodden hunks slapping her skin. “Really. Speed up, or Bruiser will catch us.”
“This is one of the fastest street-legal cars in the world. Nothing can catch us.” His jaw worked. “On a track or good road. Here, I’m not so sure.”
Nail-biting minutes later they made it through the construction zone and hit smooth pavement. Emma released fists she hadn’t known she’d made.
The roar of a truck startled her.
Bruiser’s monster truck clawed out of a field ahead to their left.
“Cream of Crap!” Dr. Light stomped the brake. Her belt caught her and slammed her so hard her breath whooshed from her lungs, and none came to replace it.
Bruiser popped onto the road directly ahead of them. If Dr. Light had had a normal car instead of this thing that stopped like a cartoon, the truck would’ve T-boned them.
“Hold on.” Mouth a thin line, he didn’t put the car in gear so much as jet them around the truck, directly into oncoming traffic.
An SUV barreling toward them blared its horn.
Emma’s breath returned in a sucked rush of cold fear—Dr. Light cut back in so late she felt the wind buffet them as the angry SUV passed.
“Nice driving.” Her voice shook slightly.
He flashed her a half-grin. “Thanks.”
Her insides warmed, her tension eased. Deadly danger, yes. Almost harem bitch for a slime-ball alpha, with that possibly yet on the menu, sure. But Gabriel Light’s grin still had the ability to make her melt.
She smiled back.
His grin widened, his eyes twinkling at her through his glasses so long he was in danger of running off the road. She pointed front, stammered, “W-watch!”
The grin became more of a smirk, but his gaze returned to the windshield.
She scanned the rapidly passing scenery. “Aren’t you worried Bruiser will try that again? That he’ll catch us?”
He shook his head. “We’re on straight road now, no construction. He must’ve cut the hypotenuse to catch us. Now there’s only one shortest route, we’re on it, and we have the faster car. He can’t overtake us. It’s simple math.”
“Ooh. I like it when you talk dirty to me.” She popped a hand over her mouth. She’d meant it in fun, joking that math was sexy. But in a way, for techs, it kinda was. He might think she meant it for real.
Her wolf gave a little yip, apparently hoping he did think she meant it for real—and hoping he took her up on the offer implied.
At the thought of him taking her up on it, her thighs tingled and her sex hummed in pleasure, making her squirm in her seat.
“You think that’s sexy?” He wagged his dark brows. “Wait till you see my calculus integrals, hubba hubba.”
Teasing her in return. She laughed in relief. Just two colleagues, joshing, humor to release tensions from a dangerous escape.
Minutes later, he squealed around the corner onto Maritime Drive. She frowned. “Is this the route to the ferry?”
His smile disappeared. “Trust me when I say I must make this boat. I’ll leave you the car to get away…crap. Scratch that. We’ll have to handle any arrangements by phone.”
“We…?” The ferry had come into view, a huge ship dozens of car-lengths long. Its boarding ramps were already gone.
“Yes,” he said. “I knew timing would be tight, but I’d hoped… Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” The ship’s engines were revving as it slowly pulled away from the dock. The ferry’s back end was gated with what looked like a tin-man’s hinged jaw—a closed jaw.
Dr. Light couldn’t possibly be thinking he’d make it onto the ship?
Still he raced toward the ferry’s gate. “Hold on.” He clapped one hand to his chest as if in shock.
She clutched her seat as he replaced his hand on the steering wheel, gripping the wheel tightly, and aimed for a bunch of boards set in an incline.
Boards she hadn’t seen before.
She remembered the car’s tires leaving pavement. She remembered the sound of the engine fading, no longer echoing from the road. She remembered seeing Pan’s aghast face at the rail of the ferry.
She remembered squealing, thinking there was no way they’d make it.
Chapter Five
Emma clutched her shoulder harness with both hands and braced for the shock of hitting water.
The ferry’s deck sprang into view. A jarring smack came a moment later, the car landing. Dr. Light immediately stomped the brakes so hard he must’ve about put his foot through the floor.
The car came to a squealing stop mere inches from a parked tour bus.
Huffing, Emma glanced behind her. The monster truck pulled up to the edge of the quay, Bruiser leaning out the window.
Even from here she could see the thunderstorm on the he-wolf’s face. But the ferry engines revved higher and they were away.
She turned front and shuddered.
Dr. Light leaped from the car and whipped to her side. “Let’s get out of here. In case anyone comes investigating.” He courteously opened her door and held out a hand.
Right. Before anyone else came to see the impossible flying car. She put her hand in his and had an instant’s shock of heat and size. He flashed her a smile as he pulled her from her seat, not letting go but keeping the connection to lead her across the deck to a set of service stairs and up.
Her feelings were jumbled. The adrenaline pumping through her skewed her perceptions. But she was painfully aware of Dr. Light’s big hand as he drew her to mingle with the other passengers. She couldn’t believe the sheer press of people.
In the general lounge he finally dropped her hand, quickly, almost guiltily. She caught sight of Pan, working his way toward them, expression grim.
Coming to scold me? The assistant manager’s ass-kickings were legendary. The adrenaline in her system caught fire with a whoosh, her heart shoop-shooping in her ears.
But the lithe, black-haired man only seared Dr. Light with a glare then handed him a key, muttering something about a carry-on being stowed, before taking off.
“Are you okay?” Dr. Light touched her shoulder.
Aside from her heart racing like an Olympic sprinter? Aside from the sweating, stinking, loud mob of people sending her already-overdriven sensory system into hyperdrive?
Aside from wondering how the hell Dr. Light had figured out she was in trouble, how he’d managed to find her, and other ideas about his miraculous rescue rampaging through her brain like a demented moose? Yeah, only one response to that.
“I’m fine.”
Kids ran past. The noise level was giving Emma’s tense nerves an extra twang. Not much more and she’d have a full-blown headache.
“Emma?” Dr. Light touched her again, and when she raised her gaze, his was dark with concern. “I don’t think you’re so fine.”
She gave him a tight shake of the head. “I’m simply trying to deal with everything that’s happened. Bruiser—Bruce, he’s always been a bit of a dickwad, but he never behaved like that before.”
“I’m sorry. Good thing we got you away from him.” His expression warmed to pure sympathy. “It’s four hours until we land. You’ll want to make arrangements. Do you have your phone?”
Nearby, a young moth
er tried to nurse while corralling two overexcited kids maybe two and three years old.
“My phone? No, Bruce…he broke it.” Emma pinched her nose. Even the thought of calling someone in this din, trying to negotiate with them to brave Bruiser’s wrath to snare her houseplants and bills…well, any nerves still intact were set buzzing.
“Here.” Dr. Light pressed cool plastic into her hand. “Here’s an extra phone you can use.” He paused. “Emma, I reserved a stateroom, but you need the quiet more than me. I can share with Pan. Tell you what. Give me a moment to collect my carry-on, and the stateroom is all yours.”
She thought about rejecting his offer, about lying and saying “I’m fine” for exactly as long as it took to focus on his face.
He gazed at her so seriously through his glasses that his normally blue-green eyes had gone ice-silver, like a light straight into her brain. The one guy who’d tried to lie to that look? He’d gotten fired.
“Okay.” She hefted a breath. “Yes, I could use a bit of quiet. Thanks. I appreciate this, Dr. Light.”
His eyes warmed back to the color of a moonlit Mediterranean sea, and he gave her that quick grin of his. “We’re not at work now, Emma. You can call me Gabriel.”
“Oh, I…well.” Truthfully, she’d wanted to taste his name on her lips. “Thank you, Gabriel.”
His smile heated, almost intimate.
Until his phone rang. He pulled it out of a pocket and scowled at the display. “My brother-in-law. I have to take this. On second thought, I’ll leave the carry-on in the stateroom so you can freshen up if you need. Just let me pick up my laptop and a few things to occupy me. Give me, say, ten minutes? I’ll come back with the key.” He pressed the phone to his ear. “Gabriel Light.”
She watched him stride away, head and shoulders above the crowd. When he moved, he was so graceful, so perfectly proportioned, that she forgot he was really a giant of a man at almost six and a half feet, more than a foot taller than her.
Here, it was terribly, deliciously obvious.
Grasping the phone he’d given her—and she wasn’t surprised at all that their nerd king had a spare cell phone—she sank into the only empty chair, on the other side of the cabin from the nursing mother, beside a snoring businessman. She thought about starting her phone calls but was too wrung out.
