I can tell Tom it’s good for the ratings, I guess. Scandals usually are. Might work. But I have maybe one more day before he decides canning my ass is less hassle than putting up with my clearly escalating behavior.
I think about Mercy’s offer as I wonder why I still even care about what my stupid producer thinks. It still feels too good to be true. I need to be sure Mercy isn’t involved in the attacks before I can seriously consider that as a real option. Right now I’m not sure of anything, so I need to know why I still have horror movie eyes. Groaning, I turn away from the mirror.
If I’m being honest with myself, I know why. My feelings for Justin and Tyler didn’t just die when I decided to sleep with Sam. To accept him as my mate. I ignored everything else to make it okay to be with Sam tonight. I thought that was all it was going to take to accept his claim on my heart. Apparently not.
Everything I know about mating starts to rush through my thoughts. None of it points me to an answer. My stomach churns as I wonder how easy it would be to snatch my clothes from the floor of my old bedroom and high-tail it out of the house. I can’t let Sam see me like this. Not until I’ve figured out what to tell him. It’ll break his heart.
I groan as I wonder if it’s going to take sleeping with all three of them to figure this thing out. It just seems like no matter what I do here, everyone’s going to get hurt.
Cursing softly, I open the bathroom door. It creaks a little as I step back out into the hall. I’m careful to be as quiet as possible picking my dress off the bedroom floor. I’m not sure why. Sam always slept like a rock. I doubt that’s changed.
I take one last look at his sleeping face before I leave, and my heart feels like it’s starting to break.
Ignoring the pain, I leave before I can think twice about this. Sleeping next to him until morning isn’t going to make everything better. Wishing my eyes would change back won’t force it to happen.
Sam isn’t my mate. I need to find a way to be okay with that. Right now my emotions are too raw. I can’t stand thinking he’s not mine. He is. I still feel it. I don’t know how I’m going to let go of that.
Fifty-Four
Tyler
Ten minutes after I started to chase him, Justin leads me to his intended destination. A ball of dread forms in my stomach as I realize I know who lives in this house. Midway between the lake and the swamp, the land was owned by Marina’s aunt for years before she built a house there to live in with the young niece she took guardianship of. Middle of nowhere. Trees surrounding the house on all sides. It was an odd place to raise a child, but the woman had always seemed a little strange.
Marina lives here alone ever since her aunt died a few years back. I can only follow Justin so far before I have to kill the engine and go the rest of the way on foot. He’ll get there before I do. I can only hope she still has that shotgun her aunt was always talking about.
It takes a lot to kill a gator, but something like that should be enough to slow one down before he can attack. It’ll give her a chance to get away at least.
I run through the woods toward the house at a sprint. I’m not supernaturally fast in human form but I’m fit enough to make good time. I hear a bang and a crash as I make it to the front door. The security light illuminates the front porch suddenly. I try the handle but it’s locked.
I bang on the door. “Marina! Marina, it’s Ty. You have to wake up. You’re in danger.”
I don’t even know if she can hear me out here. Getting to her before Justin does isn’t going to be easy. He might already have gotten there, if the crashing noises are anything to go by. I pick up the plant pot by the door. It’s heavy. I can probably smash a window.
Then the sound of a window opening draws my attention the top floor of the building. Marina leans out.
“Hey, put that down! What the hell are you doing?”
“Is your door locked up there?”
She frowns at me. “It is to you, creeper.”
“There’s a gator in your house.”
“There’s one on my front porch too. Don’t make me go get Aunt Kay’s shotgun.”
The woman is exasperating. I sigh as I put the plant pot back down.
“I’m serious, Marina.”
A loud bang makes her turn. She looks back out at me before climbing out of the window.
“Get ready to catch,” she calls out, a split second before she jumps.
It’s a good thing my reflexes are lightning fast. I catch her in my arms and I’m about to put her down when she complains, “No shoes, Ty. I’m not running through the woods barefoot in my nightdress like a horror movie victim. Where’s your car?”
Right. I get moving. It’ll take Justin a while to crash back out of the house. I can only hope it’s enough time to get his chosen victim to safety.
I start to hear him moving through the woods just as I get Marina inside the car. I hop into the driver’s seat and wonder what the hell’s going to happen. Justin was clearly triggered by that phone call. He went after a specific victim. What happens when he doesn’t get her?
Marina punches me in the arm as I gun the engine, making me frown at her.
“Well? Are you going to explain why you’re kidnapping me from my home at like midnight, or what?” She sounds entirely indignant.
“Oh so you wanted me to leave you to the gator who was out for your blood?” I drive us back toward civilization, wondering if I should drive around until my tank is empty. Try to exhaust Justin. That plan has a huge hole in it. He’s on a hunt right now. He won’t be satisfied until he’s sated the predatory instincts that are driving him. He won’t stop until he gets his prey.
“There’s a gator in this car right now,” she mutters, crossing her arms.
“Are you cold?” I ask, realizing she’s only wearing a thin night dress.
“Why?” she sounds agitated. “Don’t think this whole late night rescue thing wins you any points with me, Ty. I’m not interested in you.”
I laugh. “This is why you’re always so prickly with me? You think I like you.”
Her eyes brighten when I look her way. “You don’t?”
I shake my head. “No offense, Marina. You’re just not my type.”
“Well,” she says. “I’m glad, but I’m still pissed about this late night gator-break-in bullshit. What happened back there, exactly? Who was he?”
I wonder how much to tell her. Nothing is my preference. I’m not sure Misty would agree.
“He’s a friend of Misty’s, but before you start making connections and jumping to conclusions, I need to make something very clear.”
“Oh?” She asks. “A friend of Misty’s… Justin?”
Damn it. Should have stuck with telling her nothing.
“He was triggered to shift by phone call. I don’t know who called him. We’re going to have to figure that out, but I’m pretty sure this is the reason the gators in this town have started killing people.”
She doesn’t say anything. She’s always been one of those people who have to absorb things before she decides to respond. I haven’t had a lot of interactions with her, but the ones I had in the past, she was always this infuriating.
“Look, it doesn’t matter if you believe me. It’s the truth and that’s all that matters right now.”
I keep my eye on the rearview, watching Justin chase us, keeping him in sight.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” she says. “Does Misty know?”
“She didn’t see him get triggered. That just happened.”
“What about you?”
“I saw it,” I say, before I realize that’s not what she’s asking.
“You were triggered too?” She raises an eyebrow at me.
“I… Don’t know.” I shake my head. “How do you…”
“That waitress was killed in your territory. Or your gator’s territory. Whatever. You don’t have an alibi for that night. I don’t think you have an alibi for any of the nights when someone
was killed.”
“What are you saying?”
She shrugs. “I know about Cassie.”
My blood runs cold. My first girlfriend. The one who almost died because I couldn’t control my gator side when I was younger. How the hell could she know?
“That was a horrible accident,” I tell her, feeling guilty about it even as I try to lessen what happened. She survived. I was careful from that moment on.
“How many horrible accidents is it going to take for you to admit to yourself you’re a danger to everyone around you?”
Okay, suddenly I understand why she harbors animosity toward me. It has nothing to do with her belief that I’m attracted to her. She thinks I’m a killer. She’s probably right.
“Something more is going on here,” I tell her, my voice low. There’s nothing I can say to really justify it. However it happened, people are dead because of me. I won’t let the same thing happen to Justin.
She doesn’t talk any more, just gazes out of the window, restlessly shuffling her feet and rubbing her arms.
“There’s a blanket in the glove box.” I clamp down on the instinct to get it for her, to hide the gun. It’s not in there right now. It’s still in my pocket.
She hesitates for a few minutes before she pulls it open and drags the picnic blanket out. It’s not big enough to cover much so she wraps it around her shoulders like a shawl.
“Thanks,” she offers, grudgingly.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I tell her, keeping an eye on Justin behind us. “We’re not out of the woods.”
Fifty-Five
Misty
I sit in my car for a few minutes, looking at my eyes in the side mirror. It’s late and I’ll be disturbing Justin if I go back to the motel. He’ll know when he sees me that I’m not Sam’s mate and he might think that means I’m his. I can’t deal with that right now. I just can’t.
What’s the alternative? Go back inside? I consider it and I’m about to open the door when I realize the sheriff’s car is parked across the street. I noticed when I came out here, but it didn’t really sink in as strange. Now? My hackles are rising.
What the hell is that asshole doing parking on my mom’s street? He doesn’t live here. I checked him out after the whole ditching me in gator land in the middle of the night incident. He lives closer to the middle of town.
I start my car, initial instinct to leave. The desire to flee is quickly quashed by my curiosity. I cut the engine and get out.
I go over there and look at his damned car. It’s empty, no surprise. There are no lights on in the surrounding houses. He must be staying at a hook-up’s place or something. It just seems crazy coincidental. Anger fills me at what he did. For a second, I think about slashing his tires. If I had a knife, I would.
Looking back at my mother’s house – Sam’s house now – I know I need to go back inside.
Something’s really wrong here. I can feel it in my bones.
The car wasn’t out here when I got in. It wasn’t on the road when I looked out the window earlier tonight. He must have gotten here sometime in the last couple of hours. The question is why?
I move back toward the house quickly, senses on high alert. When I get inside, I lock the door and lean back against it, considering my next move.
Wake Sam, tell him what’s going on. Deal with the whole mates thing later.
I take a step toward the stairs and hear a creak from the landing above.
“Sam!” I’m surprised he’s awake, but it’s relief that floods my tone.
The figure that begins moving down the stairs doesn’t have Sam’s easy swagger. I stumble back as the sheriff’s smirking face comes into sight. My heart drops into my stomach. Panic swells within me.
“He’ll be a minute,” Trip tells me.
“What did you do…”
He laughs, a short, sharp sound that pierces my heart.
“It’s not what I did,” he tells me. “It’s what he’s going to do.”
Cracking and crashing sounds echo through the hallway, coming from upstairs.
The sheriff steps out of the way and I see a gator at the top of the staircase. Oh my God. Sam? It has to be, doesn’t it? No-one else was in here until a few seconds ago.
“What have you done?”
“You have a choice to make now, Misty. Stay here and let him devour you, or come with me and leave. Now.”
I frown at Trip. “Um, what?”
I don’t understand what’s going on here, at least not until the sheriff takes off the dark glasses he’s wearing. His eyes. They’re like mine. Holy fucking shit.
“No,” I tell him, shaking my head.
“It’s not a yes or no question, Misty. Come with me or die. It’s that simple.”
He moves me out of the way, and turns back to Sam as he starts to make some really disturbing noises. “Attack,” he says, smiling at me and holding out his hand.
The gator swiftly slides down the staircase. I turn around and unlock the door.
“I’m not going with you!” I yell at the sheriff.
“You’ll come with me, or you’ll die,” he hisses in my ear.
I yank the door open and rush out, stumbling when he grabs my arm.
The gator snaps at my ankles. “Don’t, Sam, please don’t hurt me,” I whisper, totally losing my cool here. I know this isn’t completely Sam. It’s a wild, predatory creature with its own agenda. I suddenly understand why Tyler wanted me to take his gun.
The gator glances at me, staying still. Trip yanks me into his arms.
“You can’t command him like I can,” he tells me. “Say you’ll come with me, or I tell him to rip you to shreds. You might be able to make him hesitate, but I can force him past that.”
His words chill me to the bone. This is what’s been happening. This whole time. The asshole with his fingers digging into my wrists has been commanding the gators in this town to kill people. I have to know why. This is the story I came here for. I swallow, and nod.
“I’ll come with you. Make him stop.”
“I knew you’d come around,” he murmurs, satisfaction in his tone as he relaxes his grip slightly.
“Go back inside,” he barks at Sam. “Sleep.”
The gator turns on his tail, breaking part of the fence around the porch before he moves back inside the house.
Trip walks me to his car while I try to process what’s happening right now. He takes me to the trunk and I shake my head.
“No, you wanted me to come with you and I did. I don’t need to…”
“You don’t need to be able to see where I’m taking you. There’s no escape from this, Misty.” He strokes the side of my face and I’m suddenly a lot warier of his motives. His eyes are like mine. He’s ready to take a mate. My stomach turns at the realization that he thinks I’m meant to be his.
“Give me your phone,” he demands, holding out one hand.
I tap down my pockets and shake my head. “I must have left it in my purse in the house.”
He frowns at me before he gives me a pat down himself, one-handed so I don’t attempt to run. His touch is rough and a little grasping. I bite back a groan when he pinches my skin. I don’t want him taking it as a signal. I’m beginning to think my initial rapey cop assessment of him wasn’t that far off the mark.
I don’t want to get in the trunk of his car and I consider fighting this, giving it my all, and then I remember what he just did. He’s the one who’s been killing people in this town. He’s what I came here for. I have to do this. I need to know. Damn it to hell. I let him lift me inside and he closes the door, locking me in darkness.
My heart races as I hear him gun the engine. I feel my way around the confined space but there’s nothing much to find. Nothing helpful, at least. He planned this. He seems like the methodical type now. What happened to the hot-headed asshole who left me out by the lake to be eaten? Something’s seriously wrong with this guy, and I’m going to have to figure out what to get out
of this mess.
Fifty-Six
Sam
I don’t understand what’s happening when I wake up alone on the couch in Misty’s Mom’s living room. It takes a second to remember this is my house now. It takes another to remember Misty stayed over last night. So why the hell did I wind up sleeping on the couch?
Something doesn’t add up. I stand quickly, realizing I’m naked under the blanket.
Seems even weirder. We definitely made it to the bedroom last night. Misty accepted me as her mate. We consummated our joining and should have woken up together this morning, her eyes no longer reptilian.
I’m still standing in the middle of the living room, trying to figure out what I’m missing when a loud, “Hello!” rings through from the kitchen, followed by, “Anybody home?”
Crap. Misty’s mom. I grab the blanket from the couch and wrap it around my waist.
“Oh, hey, Mrs. Gordon,” I say as she walks into the room.
Her eyes widen. “I just came to pick up some more of my things. Is Misty… around?”
Is she? I swallow the doubts that enter my head. She’s probably sleeping in her bed upstairs. I must have come down here for water or something and crashed out on the couch.
“She’s sleeping,” I say quickly. “I just came down to get some water.”
“Okay,” she says. “I’m just grabbing some clothes from upstairs. I’ll be quiet.”
She half-hugs me in passing and creeps past me to head upstairs. I go get some water since I told her it’s what I was doing. I check out the living room window as I pass, seeing Misty’s car out there and breathing a sigh of relief. She didn’t run off. It would have been like her to do that, but she didn’t.
Her mother comes back down the stairs, a bag full of clothes in her hand.
“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Come over in an hour if you’d like some breakfast.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, putting the glass down and ditching the blanket to dart up the stairs the instant she’s gone.
Flashing Her Gators Page 16
