by Elle Thorne
He pushed the curtain aside on one room, though he felt certain he wouldn’t find her there. No scent.
And another room.
Finally, he found her scent. She was in that room, across. He approached slowly, cautiously.
Her scent grew stronger. Taking the curtain’s fabric between his fingertips he pushed it aside slightly and glanced around the room.
No Evie.
Several tables. Several shifters in different stages of eating, but no Evie.
Fuck.
Then he saw Kaitlyn Byrne. She was sitting with another female. He recognized her. Kaitlyn’s little sister—he couldn’t remember her name. Mason frowned. And there was an empty seat at the table.
Maybe that’s where Evie was sitting. Maybe Evie took a quick trip to the restroom.
It’s fine, he assured his lion. See? No reason to be concerned. She’ll be back in a few moments.
He studied the table.
The lion roared.
Kaitlyn’s plate was empty so was her sister’s.
But the plate in front of the empty seat was untouched.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose. A ripple of worry traversed the length of his spine.
Something’s not right here.
His lion growled.
I’m agreeing with you, dammit.
His lion snarled in response.
Mason sucked in a lungful of air.
Here goes nothing.
He was sure Kait would hate him. Wasn’t that how it went? Didn’t people usually hate their best friend’s ex?
He strode to Kait’s table, as if he had every right, every reason to be there. As if he and Evie weren’t exes and she didn’t hate his guts or anything like that.
He noticed Kait had a smile on her face.
—until her gaze closed in on Mason’s face. Smile gone. Scowl in place. Her lips lost their curve and flattened into a thin line.
“Mason Martinez,” she said.
Her sister, who’d had a neutral expression on her face gasped.
Shit. Great. So clearly her sister’s heard my name.
“Hi, Kaitlyn.” He rested his palms on the chair in front of him, the one at the place with the uneaten food. “Where’s Evie?”
“Why do you care?”
Not going to do this. “Just wondering.”
He indicated the plate with a nod, not removing his hands from the chair’s back because he had a white-knuckled grip he wasn’t willing to relinquish. Right now it was the only outlet for his barely contained anger at her hostility.
He’d done nothing to Evie to deserve this kind of bullshit treatment from her and her friends.
Maybe it was time he had it out with her. Maybe instead of just making sure she was okay, he’d do exactly what his lion wanted him to do, which was exactly what he wanted to do: corner her ass and make her tell him what the fuck went so goddamned wrong with their relationship.
Yeah, it’s safe to say I’ve moved from sad to mighty motherfucking pissed off.
Kait’s face was a well-guarded fortress, not yielding a thing. “She’s not here.”
Clearly.
He clenched his jaw to keep from lifting the chair and smashing it into the wall. Or worse.
“No problem. Thanks for your non-help.” He’d fucking find her. He’d scent her.
He spun around and left the room, he and his lion seeing everything through the haze of anger. Room to room he went, no sign, until he’d reached the restroom. Her scent was strong, coming from the ladies’ room. She was here. Or had been her for a while. Every time a woman walked in and then out, he caught her scent. His nostrils flaring and his lion chuffing.
He’d ask the next woman going in to check for her.
Then he saw her. Kaitlyn’s little sister was approaching the restroom door. Except she wasn’t looking at the door. Her stare was fixed on Mason.
“I was looking for you.”
His eyes became slits. Suspicious, he asked, “Why? Is she not back at the table?”
“No. And something seems off. She’s been gone a long time and that guy she knew, he left and never came back.” She shrugged. “Could be nothing, but…” Another shrug.
“What guy?”
“Todd. Todd something or another.”
Mason drew back. He studied her face for signs of duplicity and found none. Her scent didn’t reveal any deception either.
It’s not like I know many guys named Todd. Just one. Does she know more than one? And…
If it was his ex-roommate, why? Why was he here? Last Mason had heard; Todd was on the East Coast.
This was pulling him away from his goal. He needed to know if she was in the restroom. “Can you make sure she’s not in there?” He pointed to the restroom with his thumb.
“Sure.”
Seconds later—though it seemed an eternity—she returned. “She’s not. But she was. I can scent her. And her scent says distress.”
“What? Wait here. Make sure no one comes in.” He shoved the swinging door open.
“I have to get back,” she said, her voice fading as she moved away.
Well, hell.
If a woman walked in, he’d just apologize.
He entered the bathroom. All the stall doors were open.
Obviously empty.
He narrowed her scent down to the far stall. She’d evidently spent some time in there—hiding. He knew her tendencies. She dealt by running and hiding. That was Evie’s way. Cornered, she’d fight, sure, he knew that. God knows she’d shoved him off the ledge that day in Colorado. She would fight, but she preferred not to deal.
He used to tease her about that. A melancholy smile curved his lips. He caught the sadness of his own expression in the mirror. He also caught that he looked like hell—haggard and sleep-deprived.
No surprised there, he missed his mate. It hit him hard as hell when he saw her. He’d thought he was over her—
No, I didn’t. I just fucking ignored the emotions.
He inhaled deeply, sucking in her scent, analyzing it. She was here. Her scent reeked of sadness. But Kait’s sister was right. There was another scent.
Panic.
And…
Yet another scent. Male.
For a brief second Mason accessed his memories of the time Todd Scanlon had been his roommate. This was Todd’s scent. He was fairly certain.
What the hell happened here?
He stepped out of the bathroom. Kaitlyn’s sister was gone. He looked down the hallway.
Empty.
A low whistling sound grabbed his attention.
The sensation of a pinch was followed by a flash of searing pain in his thigh.
Mason glanced down, his eyes taking in the dart that was embedded in his thigh just as everything lost clarity and his field of vision narrowed to a tunnel that quickly degraded to a pinpoint of light traveling toward darkness at a rapid speed.
Then everything went black.
Chapter Nine
Evie shoved at the fur that covered her. She had to be dreaming. She pushed at the thick fur, but it was attached to something massive. She wriggled, half her body trapped beneath the thickness.
She realized immediately she wasn’t sleeping. And she sure as hell wasn’t dreaming.
Her head felt like someone had filled it with cotton, but otherwise she was awake. Her lids didn’t want to open. She so wanted to go back to sleep, to lose herself in the fur that wrapped around her like a blanket.
Her tigress released a piercing cry in her mind. The cry became a howl, raising Evie from her partial stupor.
She forced her eyes open, adjusting quickly to the darkness that surrounded her.
The fur wasn’t actually a blanket. A large brown bear was next to her, breathing deeply, seemingly asleep.
What the fuck?
The bear opened one dark gleaming eye, staring at her.
She didn’t move. She couldn’t shift fast enough to defend herself from the bear.
Before she could have another thought, and certainly before she could act, the bear began a swift transformation, shifting into his human form.
Todd Scanlon!
Memories came rushing back to Evie. She’d been in the restroom. There’d been a knock on the stall door. Thinking someone needed help, she’d released the latch.
She hadn’t anticipated the door flying open, almost knocking her down. Grabbing the stall’s painted steel panel walls, she’d steadied herself. When she’d looked up to see who’d knocked, Todd Scanlon stood at the entrance.
Her first thought had been, what is he doing in the ladies’ room?
Her second thought had been why was there a guy behind him holding a pistol?
That had been her final thought. The gun made a loud whisper sound and a soft pop.
A piercing stab tore through her bicep. She hadn’t had a chance to glance down, she was too busy struggling because Todd had grabbed her other arm.
Then everything faded to black.
And now, here she was with Todd Scanlon.
Wherever here is.
Because she had no fucking clue where she was.
She looked around the dark room. Empty walls. No table. No chairs. Nothing but the mattress she was on, which was on the floor. Across from her a door with a tiny window.
It’s more like a fucking cell.
He wasn’t captive with her was he?
No, how could he be?
She was not naïve. She knew what had happened. They’d used a Tranq on her.
She swallowed the chalk dust that had accumulated in her throat. “Why?”
That was all she could manage, until she cleared the chalkiness from her throat.
Todd had completely taken his human form.
He placed a hand on her hip, tracing slow patterns in the fabric.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” He raised himself on one elbow, his fingers still making circles.
She cringed, put her hand next to his, pushing it away firmly. “Get away from me.”
“What’s the problem?” His voice almost sounded innocent.
You drugged me, you asshole. “Really?”
He frowned. “What do you mean? Yeah. Surely you know how I feel about you?”
Where the hell is this coming from?
If she’d been a cartoon character, her head would be spinning. That’s how she felt right now.
He continued talking as if the look of horror she was sure was plastered on her face wasn’t evident.
“Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve built, it’s all led up to this moment. We can finally be together. He’ll be out of the way permanently soon. I understand.” He ran a hand through disheveled hair. His expression was full of sympathy. “You’re conflicted; you’re torn between the two of us. I get it.”
There were a series of flashes in his eyes, and it was more than his bear’s amber glow. She tried not to stare, but couldn’t help it. His brown eyes had tiny pinpoints of white in them. She’d never seen that before. It was like tiny little starbursts in the brown, regressing and returning like tiny Christmas lights.
“Torn?” She may have been mesmerized by the phenomenon on his eyes, and she might have the aftereffects of the Tranq, but she wasn’t so out of it that she couldn’t process what he was saying. “What do you mean torn?”
“Him. Me.” He studied her face as if looking for comprehension, then continued. “You’re torn between me and that bastard, Mason Martinez.”
She shook her head. “This is—”
“I can make it so he doesn’t pull on your tigress anymore. So that you can concentrate your love on me. Fully.”
He thinks my connection to Mason is only my tigress?
“Todd.” She thought she’d try for logic and reason. If that didn’t work, she’d shift but she wasn’t holding hope for being able to do anything against the Tranqs she was sure he and the other guy had. “I don’t think you understand.”
“No, really. Look.” He reached across her, his body lying on her.
She was almost ready to shove him off when he pushed off and sat up on the mattress they were on.
“You’ll change your mind.” He held up his hand. A cell phone. He tapped on the screen. “Look.” He turned it her way. “Recognize anyone?”
She gasped. “Mason?”
Mason was on the phone’s screen.
In a cage.
“No. My God. No.”
Quicker than she could expect it, Todd’s hand flew out, his knuckles hard as he backhanded her.
Evie’s head snapped back.
She put her hand to her mouth. Blood. Her lip throbbed, and her tigress roared, urging for a push, wanting desperately to kill Todd.
Wait.
“Baby, I’m sorry.” Todd grabbed her shoulder with one hand and pulled her close.
Baby? What the fuck?
She pulled away slowly, regarding him as if he were a rattlesnake.
Hell, a rattlesnake would have been more predictable.
She couldn’t let him see how she felt. How much it upset her to see Mason in the cage.
“What?” She fought to control her emotions. “I’m not…” She wasn’t sure what kind of trap this was.
“Your scent tells me you still care for him. You’re releasing the indicators of concern. Even your pulse jumped when you saw Martinez.” He reached out, placed a hand on her neck lightly. “This little vein was throbbing the moment you laid eyes on him.”
Evie slapped his hand away. “I don’t know what game you’re playing.”
She left traces of her blood on his hand.
“You belong to me.” His hand snaked out, quick, serpent-like and seized her behind the neck, pulling her close.
His lips landed on hers. Flat. Cold. Making a lizard come to her mind. No sooner did that thought strike Evie, and before she even had a chance to react to his kiss, his tongue snaked into her mouth, seeking hers—slithering, exploring.
Evie jerked back. “What the fuck?”
Before Evie could stop her, her tigress slipped out, sharing control with Evie. Her claws extended, her hand darted forward, slashing at his face.
Todd, his hand flying to his cheek. He pulled his hand back, looked at it. It was covered in crimson stripes, matching the ribboned slashes she’d left in his flesh.
“You bitch.” The starbursts in his irises began a quick winking—menacing in the brown pools.
His expression changed, running a gamut of emotions, anger, lust, disgust, disappointment, and a few others she was unsure of.
It’s like he’s on some sort of super-steroids for emotions. I hope this doesn’t happen when he shifts into his bear.
He picked up the phone he’d dropped at some point, then pressed the screen. Raising it to his mouth, he said, “Let’s have fun. Send in two shifters. No, three.”
Over his phone’s speaker came, “But, boss, I thought we were going to have him fight tonight?”
“Well, don’t let them kill him, you idiot,” Todd snapped. He tapped on the screen again, showed her Mason.
He was still in the cage, but stirring.
Todd stood. “Come with me.”
No. Hell, no. Fuck, no. “Let me out of here. My brother will kill you.”
“Your brother can’t even figure out what’s been happening on his own territory. He’s been too busy chasing that tail.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
He raised a brow. “You don’t know? You haven’t seen his new woman? Even my surveillance team knows.”
What the hell is he talking about?
It didn’t seem to matter, when she thought of the image of Mason in a cage, and the words Todd spoke about sending three shifters in.
“Come with me, or I’ll rescind my order to have him live.”
“What’s happening tonight? What was that guy talking about? The one on your phone?”
“A little sporting event. Shif
ters on shifters. A nice little cage match. It makes me a sweet living.”
“You do that? You have shifters fighting shifters? Involuntarily?”
Was that why he kidnapped her? Why he took Mason? “You want me to fight?”
“No. I want you to be mine. By my side. To be my mate.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Over Martinez’s dead body, you mean.” He smirked, his features, now more than ever reminded her of a reptile. “Let’s watch your ex-boyfriend try to hold his own with three shifters.” He took long strides toward the door.
“You drugged him. How can he possibly have a fair chance?” She rose to her feet, followed him to the exit on shaky legs.
“Fair chance?” He whirled around, eyes glistening from the starburst patterns. “What do I care about that?”
Turning, he jerked the door open and strode into a long dark hallway lit with bare bulbs that hung every few yards.
The hallway smelled of sweat and death. A shiver passed over Evie’s spine. She tried to hold her breath, to avoid smelling it, but it was impossible. She struggled to keep up with Todd’s long strides.
She was beginning to get the picture. She remembered overhearing Lézare talking to Vax about the underground fighting ring that had been skirting between the two territories and more. She hadn’t really paid much attention. She had other concerns as the marketing director for Arceneaux Business Enterprises.
She tried to remember what all Lézare had said, but no specifics came to mind, except they didn’t know where exactly the headquarters were for the fighting rings and they didn’t know who exactly ran it.
God I wished I’d paid better attention.
The odor of the hallway was pervasive and it stuck to her. Shifters died here. Sacrificed to Todd Scanlon’s twisted ambitions.
They were nearing the end of the hallway where a set of double doors with clear panels awaited.
What was behind the doors? Would she see Mason? Would Mason be dead?
And then she heard the roar. It reverberated in her mind and bounced off the walls. Behind those doors, something very large was very pissed.
Chapter Ten
Mason fell backward. The bear before him roared, flanked by two more bear shifters. He stood over Mason, six-inch claws raking at the air. The bear was lost in a wave of red, blood pouring from the wound on Mason’s forehead, just above his brow, a two-inch deep gash from the bear’s black claws.
