by Liza Street
“Sorry,” Carter said as he walked away.
But the apology was empty, which they both knew.
Turning around, Grant looked at Caitlyn, who still sat next to the boundary. Her blond ponytail drooped down her back like a flag of defeat.
Grant had to talk to a witch as soon as possible. Not for himself, though. He’d lost hope a long time ago for himself. This would be for Caitlyn. He’d stay in here forever, if only Caitlyn could go free.
6
When she woke the next morning, Caitlyn made a decision. Enough moping. So she was (maybe) stuck here for (maybe) forever. And it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t okay. But was she going to sit against the invisible wall every day and feel sorry for herself, or was she going to live the best life she could under the circumstances?
Easy choice, but hard to do.
She made the bed and checked herself out in the cracked mirror hanging on the outside of the bathroom door. She didn’t look nearly as wrecked as she felt. Good. She brushed her teeth with her finger and some toothpaste she found in one of the drawers near the sink. Experimenting, she tugged her lips upward in a smile. It was almost convincing. She kept the fake smile on her face while she fixed her hair back into a high ponytail. She’d heard that smiling, even when you’re unhappy, can lift your mood. And she was ready to try every trick in the proverbial book.
After blowing herself a kiss in the mirror, she went outside to face the world.
Grant was sitting outside the trailer again. This morning, a deep gash marred his cheekbone.
“What happened?” she asked. “And how’s your shoulder from yesterday?”
“The shoulder is fine,” he said, taking in her appearance. Something about his gaze caused little flickers of pleasure in her belly. He didn’t leer at her like the other guys had done. “You’re looking better.”
See, the fake smile had worked. “Thanks. But your shoulder?”
“It’s fine. Already healed up.”
“No, I should’ve tended to it yesterday, but let me take a look now.” She’d been selfishly involved in her own struggles and completely ignored the injured person right in front of her. If the wound got infected, how would they treat it? It wasn’t like they could rush to the hospital.
He lifted up his sleeve. “It’s already gone, see?”
His muscular bicep was distracting and entirely unscathed. Maybe she’d mixed up which arm had been hurt. “Show me your other one.”
Grinning, he turned and lifted his other sleeve. More tanned skin covering perfect muscles. Not even a scar in sight.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she said. “This shouldn’t be possible.”
“I told you about magic.” His voice was quiet, his green eyes guarded.
“Magic healed you?” She reached tentatively toward his arm. When he didn’t draw back, she smoothed her palm over his skin.
The contact made her breath catch in her throat and she yanked her hand away. A feeling. More than a feeling—a need. It swirled through her lower abdomen, gathering heat.
“What…?” She looked into his eyes.
He looked nearly as surprised as she felt. “What did you just do?”
“I don’t know. Nothing.” Her heart pounded away in her chest, double-time. She would probably break the blood pressure machine she’d used to monitor her aunt’s declining health if she were to hook herself up to it right now. Holding her hand out once more, she said, a half-smile on her face, “Can I touch you again? For science?”
He snickered, which gave her a jolt of pleasure. She liked amusing him, apparently, although she had no idea why.
“I am a nurse,” she murmured. “I worked in a hospital and everything.” Reaching out again, she touched his upper arm. Again, that feeling of need and desire flowed through her veins.
Grant nodded, as if a question had been answered, but she didn’t remember asking him one.
“Can I touch you?” he asked. “Also, you know, for science.”
“Sure.”
She held out her arm. Instead of running his palm over it like she’d expected, he grabbed her and yanked her into his lap. She let out a shout of surprise.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No, you just manhandled me, you big brute.” But strangely, she didn’t mind. Both of his hands were on her arms, gliding over her skin, igniting that warm feeling of need in her once again.
She risked a glance at his face, which was now so close to hers, she could kiss him if she wanted to.
And she kind of wanted to.
From the heavy-lidded gaze of his green eyes, which tracked from her eyes to her lips, he wanted the same thing.
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
“Fate, I think.”
Whoa, that was deep, and kind of sudden. She stared hard at his face, looking for a sign that he was joking, but he looked dead serious.
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms again. She held back a sigh of want. His dick was hard, poking into her ass. Knowing it was there, that he was as turned on as she was, made her want to adjust her position so she was straddling him.
If this was Fate, as he’d guessed it was, then she was hoping Fate came equipped with a box of condoms and plenty of lube.
His mouth was right there. Right freaking there. All she had to do was stretch her neck a tiny bit and—yes.
The kiss was scorching from the second her lips touched his. He gave her two chaste pecks before turning his head so their mouths slotted together like they’d been formed for no other purpose than to kiss each other. When his lips parted slightly and his tongue came forward to touch hers, she opened her mouth and allowed him in. He tasted like hazelnut and campfire. She couldn’t get enough. Using his shoulders, she braced herself and turned around in his lap, never once breaking apart from their kiss.
He gripped the back of her borrowed shirt in his fists, tightening it against her chest—so tight it was like he was holding her breasts in his palms. Although he hadn’t touched her there yet, she couldn’t wait until he did.
Everything. She would give him everything.
“Soooo…this is new.”
The voice startled them out of the kiss. Caitlyn started to struggle off of Grant’s lap, but he held her fast. When she kept resisting, he let her go and she stood, turning to face the intruder.
“Carter.” Grant’s voice was a growl and it sounded like it belonged to an animal, not a man.
The other man, Carter, held up his hands. He had dark hair and blue eyes that pierced the morning light. His mouth quirked with amusement. “Sorry to interrupt you two. Just thought you should know that Mathers and them are less than thrilled you claimed the woman, Grant. They’re saying if you don’t give her up, they’ll take her themselves, and they won’t be fighting you one on one.”
“Claimed…the woman?” Caitlyn said, struggling to come out of the kissing fog to understand Carter’s words.
“Yeah, he didn’t tell you?” Carter asked. “By walking off with you the other night, he won the contest and you’re his now.”
Caitlyn spun on her heel to face Grant. “What?”
Now that her mind was clearing, she remembered something about that. She’d been the prize, and whoever walked away with her was the winner. She’d somehow forgotten that over the past twenty-four hours, but now that Carter had brought it up, she was angry. Because here she was, about to hand over her vagina like some kind of trophy to the “winner.”
Not anymore.
“Thanks, Carter,” Grant said in a voice that said he was anything but grateful. “Really appreciate it. Now scram.”
Laughing, Carter walked away.
Caitlyn kept her gaze on Grant. “I’m yours, huh?”
“As far as they’re concerned, yes. As far as you’re concerned, no. It was a technicality I used to help keep you safe.”
A technicality she’d forgotten about. And then they’d kissed each other breathless.
“We need
to talk about this,” Caitlyn began.
“Phillip’s here early,” he said.
“Phillip?”
“The guy who can contact a witch for us. I can hear his truck.”
Caitlyn listened, but all she heard was faint birdsong.
“I can hear better than you,” he said. “I’ll try to explain it on the way…if you’ll listen.”
When he held out his hand, she took it automatically. She wanted to be close to him, despite the weirdness, despite the whole “prize” thing Carter had brought up. Nothing Carter said could change their kiss or the way her body craved his.
As they walked, Grant said, “You didn’t believe me yesterday, about magic. But I also said something else. I told you the magic wall is here to keep in misbehaving shapeshifters.”
Caitlyn kept her eyes ahead. Shapeshifters sounded like something out of a supernatural show about mercurial gods.
And he’d said something about shifters, too, but she’d only been half-listening at that point, trying to wrap her mind around this place.
“And that’s what the Junkyard is,” Grant went on. “It’s like a supernatural holding ground, or exile. The shifter thing wasn’t a lie, I wasn’t joking around. All the guys in here, we can change into animals, and it’s why I can hear that truck from far away and you can’t. My shapeshifting ability gives me stronger senses.”
Caitlyn heard him, she was listening. She just wasn’t sure what to think.
They reached a small clearing next to a pond that looked barely deep enough to swim in. Still, the sight of the water sparkling in the sunlight was beautiful.
The sound of cheering rose up in the distance, and she finally heard the truck.
“He’s going to toss the goods over to us,” Grant said, “and the guys’ll divide them up. I’ll get mine later. Then Phillip will come around to meet with me. We can just wait here for him, if you want. But Caitlyn. Please, talk to me.”
She allowed him to tug her to a fallen tree, its trunk old and worn free of bark. They leaned against it. She sensed his gaze on her, but she focused on the ground, on a purple and white columbine flower swaying in the breeze.
“I think it’s a lot to take in,” she finally said. “I need a week or two to wrap my head around all of this.”
“Hopefully we’ll have you out before then.”
“And you, too?” she asked. She hadn’t been conscious of the concern until it came out of her mouth.
He shrugged, his massive shoulders moving up and down. “I was dragged in here by mistake, so it would be great to get out. But I’m more worried about you. I accepted this months ago, but you shouldn’t have to.”
She didn’t want to leave him behind.
Insanity. She shouldn’t feel a pang at the thought of going off without him—she didn’t even know this guy.
“Tell me more about you,” she said, trying to cover up the strange feelings swirling around in her heart.
“Not sure what to tell. My animal’s a mountain lion—that’s what I turn into.”
“What’s that like?” she asked. “Are you still you when you…transform?”
“Yeah, it’s still me in here. But sometimes the lion’s like an extra consciousness I have. It has urges of its own, but those urges are always good for me, too.”
“Urges?”
“Like, the urge to be closer to you. My inner mountain lion is roaring with the need to be with you.”
She couldn’t help but feel weirdly flattered by that strange-as-hell sentiment.
“What else?” she asked.
“That cabin you kept staring at—that’s my place. Right outside the boundary. It’s where I lived before Mathers pulled me into the Junkyard.”
“That’s yours? It’s beautiful.” She’d been thinking, while she’d stared at it, that it looked like the perfect little place to live. Out in the quiet, in the woods. No more busy city hospital. She’d miss her nursing career in a place like that, but it would be nice to escape to for long vacations.
“Here he comes,” Grant said.
Caitlyn followed Grant’s gaze to a space along the gravel line that delineated the boundary wall. A young man approached. He wore faded jeans and a t-shirt, and a baseball cap sat backward on his head.
“Lewiston,” the guy said.
“The younger Hutchins,” Grant said. “How the hell are ya?”
“I’m good.” He nodded to Caitlyn and took off his hat. “Miss, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Phillip Hutchins.”
“Hi,” Caitlyn said. “Caitlyn Dorsey. I’d offer to shake hands, but…”
Phillip grimaced.
“Now do you believe me that it’s not just bad guys trapped in here?” Grant said to Phillip. He turned to Caitlyn and added, “This asshole thought maybe I deserved my fate when Mathers pulled me in. He thought the spell only kept in bad guys. But you can’t think that now, can you, Phillip? Caitlyn’s human, and she’s a nurse—not a murderer or pervert.”
“I could be a pervert,” Caitlyn said, batting her eyelashes at Grant.
Phillip blushed, and they all laughed.
“Nah, I believe you now,” Phillip said. “The others said a woman had come in.”
“Assholes tricked her. Alleman and Mathers, both of them.” Grant’s friendly expression darkened.
Phillip nodded. “Yeah, they said. Mathers was proud. We’ll have to close the jogging trail so it doesn’t happen again.”
“So, you’ll find us a witch?” Grant asked.
“I’ll call one now. No promises she’ll do anything.” Phillip pulled a phone from his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and held the phone to his ear. “Hey, Maddie. Yeah. We have a situation at the Junkyard.”
Caitlyn and Grant waited while he explained the “situation,” which Caitlyn thought would be more aptly described as a “catastrophe.” Caitlyn interrupted Phillip to explain that both she and Grant should be let out, not just her.
“So you’ll do it?” Phillip asked the witch, then waited. “Conditions?”
“Wait—have her text you the conditions,” Grant said. “I don’t want the others to overhear.”
Caitlyn looked around them. They appeared to be alone, but Grant must have heard that truck from a mile away. He could probably hear others nearby, even if they were hiding.
“Thanks,” Phillip said into the phone. “Bye.”
A moment later, his phone buzzed and he held the screen up near the barrier so Caitlyn and Grant could see it.
Will meet you at the boundary by the pond in two days. Dawn. Bring a piece of white crystal as payment.
A white crystal? Caitlyn wondered. “What’s—”
“Shh,” Grant said. “Later. Some of them are here.”
He waved to Phillip, whose eyes got big as he looked past Caitlyn. He took a step back.
“Good luck,” Phillip said. As if he was afraid to witness what came next, he turned and hurried away from the border.
“Caitlyn,” Grant said in a soft, yet urgent, tone, “you’re gonna need to run to the trailer, okay? Go inside and lock the door behind you.”
She risked a glance behind her and saw a grizzly at the edge of the little clearing. When she gasped, it roared and charged toward them.
7
Caitlyn took one look at the approaching grizzly and Grant didn’t need to tell her twice. She ran. Unfortunately for Grant, the grizzly—Mathers—was fully animal and Grant was still in his human form. It would take Grant about six seconds to shift into his mountain lion.
Six seconds where he and Caitlyn would both be unprotected.
Worse, Mathers wasn’t the only animal in the trees surrounding them.
There was no time for thinking it out. His shirt would rip on its own, but the jeans could hold him back. He tugged off his pants and shoes, then dropped to all fours and let out his lion. Bones lengthened, broke, and grew back together. His limbs lengthened and his skin itched like fire as fur sprouted all over his skin.
> When the light around him faded, he looked up to see where Mathers was. Not coming toward Grant, like Grant had expected, but running after Caitlyn. Fuck.
He’d never reach Mathers in time to save Caitlyn.
Another grizzly barreled from the trees and collided with Mathers.
Hell yeah. Carter was here.
The two grizzlies fought, swiping at each other. Too late, Grant remembered that Mathers hadn’t been the only enemy nearby. A wolf crashed into him, tearing a chunk out of his hide when he spun to swing the wolf away. Damien Buenevista. Buenevista was almost as bloodthirsty as Mathers, and he was a helluva good fighter. Grant had needed all his strength and wits the past two nights to keep Buenevista and Mathers from breaking past him and into the trailer where Caitlyn slept.
The grizzlies bellowed. Confident that Carter had Mathers covered, Grant twisted to dodge another blow from Buenevista, who fell to his side when he missed Grant. Growling, Grant swiped across the wolf’s exposed chest with his claws.
A yowl was the only warning he had before a mountain lion collided with him. Fucking Derrick Alleman. Grant didn’t need this. Two against him, and his hind leg was bleeding like a fuckin’ fountain.
Time to go on the offensive. Before Buenevista could recover, Grant slashed his claws over his snout, sending a spray of blood outward. Just as much blood trickled over the wolf’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. Then he rounded on Alleman, who was readying for another attack. While that genius puzzled out the best way to come at Grant, Grant charged.
Surprised, Alleman dodged, but the idiot lifted his head and his neck was momentarily exposed. Grant went for it and bit down. Not hard enough for a kill, but hard enough to show he meant business.
One of these days, Alleman would die in one of these fights. But that day wasn’t today, and Grant wasn’t gonna be the beast to kill him.
Alleman kicked with his hind legs, trying to dislodge Grant, but it was no use. Grant bit down harder and harder. Give up, asshole, he thought.
Finally, Alleman went limp and closed his furious eyes, admitting defeat.
Well, at least the battle was out of the way. Mathers, Alleman, and Buenevista would leave him alone for another night.
