Chapter Twenty-Three
Eve
My mouth is chalky, and my limbs are far too heavy to lift. I open my eyes, blinking over and over to adjust to the darkness. I try to swallow to get rid of that dry feeling, but nothing works.
I wait as my limbs go from numb to tingly to sore, pushing myself up off the concrete slab. The room is dark, the only light coming from the small window to the hallway outside, but it’s clear that I’m in one of the basement cages. Something moves out of the corner of my eye, and I twist around to find Anderson sitting up in the cage next to mine, wearing nothing but a pair of baggy shorts.
“Anderson,” I breathe, and he darts his eyes over to me. My hands shake from the cold and damp room, but I shuffle over to him and lace my fingers through the metal slats that keep us apart. I search my mind desperately, relieved to find that the strings tying me to my mates are all secure. Thompson is still alive, then.
“You’re up,” a female voice says from across the room. I snap my head in that direction, and Freya is leaning against the counter. Her left arm is bandaged from where Kenneth must have broken her wrist, although her nose is almost back to normal. Someone must have set it for her. A shiny silver scar cuts across her throat, sloppy and jagged from my rushed job.
“Sorry for that,” I say groggily, gesturing at her throat. She reaches up and brushes her delicate fingers over the mark, then shrugs.
“I’ve had worse.”
I look up as though I can see through the layers of concrete and out to the courtyard. “Thompson?” I’m almost afraid to hear the answer, but I have to know.
“Alive,” Freya says. “You two have been out for almost a full day, but Kenneth is planning on executing him tonight.”
The cold way she says this sends a shock through my system, but I know after spending time with her that this is just the way she is. If she gets too emotional, she’ll completely fall apart. I can relate to that feeling.
She strides over and unlocks the cages, and Anderson and I both stumble out. She goes on to let the pups out, and they whine and lick her hands when she offers them.
“How are we gonna do this?” she asks, pricking an eyebrow and watching me expectantly. I’ve been expecting that I may get caught sometime, so I’m prepared for this moment now that it’s here.
I lace my fingers through Anderson’s, and he squeezes back, his eyes tight.
“I know exactly what to do,” I say.
Shimmying into the vents is a lot more difficult than it used to be. The basement and courtyard are totally blocked off, so this is our only option. Turning corners is the worst part, and my giant hips keep getting stuck as I wedge myself through the area. Anderson is broader than me, so he has an even rougher time. Freya, on the other hand, is leading us without a problem, her body much narrower than ours.
“We have to go up at the next junction,” I grunt, dragging myself forward on my forearms.
Freya glances back at me, her red hair a wild mess framing her face. “How are we supposed to do that?”
I frown. “Feet on one side, back on the other. Just don’t fall.”
She curses, but keeps going. When we reach the duct, she does as I say. The vertical tubes are quite a bit wider and sturdier than the horizontal ones, so Anderson and I get some breathing room. I keep an eye on Freya, praying she doesn’t fall. We only have to go up one floor, but it seems like miles when we have to climb it one at a time. When her feet slide, I instinctively reach up, grabbing her thigh while pressing my body as hard as I can against the walls. The moment she keeps moving, I let go.
“This plan sucks,” she gasps, then hauls herself up and over the ledge at the next intersection. I follow her lead, my muscles crying out in protest, as the tranquilizer still hasn’t totally left my system. She and I then proceed to drag Anderson up behind us. This is all making far too much noise, but I’m banking on everyone else already being outside.
“You two get to the courtyard,” I say, turning the opposite direction. “I’ll meet you there.”
They both open their mouths to protest, and I lift a hand to silence them. “Five minutes.”
When they both nod, I crawl toward my dad’s office, the one Kenneth has taken over. I climb out through the closet, a sense of de ja vu hitting me like a freight train. I half expect Dad to be waiting for me when I open the door, but of course that’s impossible. I listen for anyone in the room, and when I’m satisfied that I’m alone, I make my way out, waiting at every corner and every doorway to ensure it’s clear. When I pass a window by the courtyard, it’s clear that my assumption was correct. The entire pack is out there, their eyes trained on my mate in the middle of the courtyard. Five minutes may be too long. I sprint up the stairs, all the way to my shared apartment. I don’t so much as pause for a break. I kick the locked door in, and a crack like a gunshot sounds. Good thing I’m the only one inside.
I rush to the closet and dig through the very back. I strap my little gun into its leather holster, checking to make sure the clip is loaded, but only one the bullet shimmers silver in the dim light. I’ll have to make that single shot count, then. I tuck my butterfly knife into my pocket, then rush out of the apartment. I don’t bother attempting to close the ruined door. Instead, I just run down the steps at full speed and burst out into the courtyard just as Kenneth is holding a knife to Thompson’s throat.
“Stop right there, motherfucker!” I yell, lifting the gun and aiming it through the crowd. The pack members between us dive out of the way of the pointed weapon, and Kenneth lowers his knife, a smirk on his face.
“Now how did you get out, little girl?” he asks, his voice slow and condescending. I pull the slide, chambering the round.
This isn’t how I wanted to do this. I’ve always imagined something more dramatic, my teeth tearing into his flesh until he submits, and then tearing his heart out just like he did to my father.
“Are you going to shoot me, child?” he asks, his teeth gleaming hungrily in the quickly fading sunlight. He spreads his arms to his sides. “Because I don’t think you have the balls to do it.”
With that, I snarl and pull the trigger, my aim perfect.
Instead of a dead body falling to the ground, Kenneth screams in pain, the sound reverberating through the courtyard. With that distraction, Anderson and Freya exit the vents. Everyone else is too distracted to notice, though. As a few members of the pack try to swarm me, my mates flank my sides and snarl at the oncoming threats.
“Who doesn’t have the balls again?” I ask, striding forward confidently. Kenneth falls to his knees, blood pooling and dripping from his groin. Due to the bullets I use exploding on impact, there are several puncture marks along his grey slacks that are seeping blood. Even if I don’t kill Kenneth, he’ll never have children again.
“Bitch,” he barks, lunging forward when I get to close. I turn on the safety and holster the gun quickly and whip out my custom silver knife, swinging it to slice a mark across his cheek.
“Down,” I command, putting all the power of an Alpha behind the word. The wolves who’d come to attack me back off, their heads bowed. The air grows cooler as we stand off, Kenneth gauging if he can actually attack me and win at this point. The light fades, and a shiver runs through my body as the moon begins to rise somewhere in the city.
Fuck. I didn’t know it was a full moon tonight.
My hands turn to claws, and I drop the knife unwillingly. Kenneth dives forward to grapple for it, but Anderson grabs the gun from my holster and points it at him. His hand trembles, the change clearly coming over him, too. His eyes turn panicked as Kenneth grabs the knife, and when he tries to pull the trigger, it clicks ineffectually. Before Kenneth can cut me, Anderson, from ten feet away, flings the gun as hard as he can, and it slams into Kenneth’s clawed hand.
“Don’t fucking throw guns,” I cry, my concern in the totally wrong place at this moment. It’s the last thing I say before my body shifts, my mind a totally unwilling parti
cipant in the action.
Nausea roils through me, and I have to keep myself from vomiting. Instead, I must focus on the wolf in front of me.
In his wolf form, Kenneth is absolutely massive. He’s distracted enough by the change that I leap forward and clamp my jaws around his throat. He kicks at me, tearing my tender new skin with his claws, but I hold tight, jerking my head back and forth. My teeth finally get far enough below the fur to puncture skin, and Anderson leaps forward and clamps down on a leg.
Through all of this, I have to ignore Thompson’s cries of pain as Freya tears at his bonds. Because of how he’s tied down, shifting had broken several bones, the cracking deafening as his body desperately attempts to heal itself. I keep my hold, coppery blood spilling into my mouth. Kenneth falls to the ground, lying on his back in submission, but I don’t let go despite him gargling for breath. Another wolf comes behind me and whines, but I refuse to let go. My vision goes red with absolute rage, and I tear at the body below me until his throat is nothing but viscera and tufts of stained fur.
It’s far too long before I realize that he’s no longer breathing. I pull away and watch him, my hackles rising in warning, but it doesn’t matter. The light is gone from his eyes, and his whole body has gone slack, smaller than before somehow.
I back away and lift my head in a howl. The wolves of the pack watch me warily, but none approach or challenge me. If they do, they will learn just why I should be feared.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eve
It takes Thompson a while to heal from his injuries. With his hands tied behind his back as the full moon rose over the city, he’d dislocated both shoulders and broken three bones. Freya and Anderson hadn’t had time to free him after I shot Kenneth.
I sit in the office where my father was murdered, digging through the paperwork that Kenneth fucked up and cross-referencing all the information with my planner. Anderson and Thompson spend quite a bit of time with me, although they’re also busy quelling issues within the pack.
As it turns out, Kenneth was drugging the changed pups’ food so that they couldn’t transform back. Within twenty-four hours of his death, they all changed back, and Freya has thrown all of her energy into caring for them. Poppy has been living in her apartment, and the others have either been returned to their families or adopted out within the pack. Six new families have moved into the building, all of them humans whose children were kidnapped and changed.
“Eve, your eleven-thirty is here,” Anderson says, peeking into the office. As it turns out, he makes an excellent assistant, and he seems to genuinely enjoy the work. I wave at him as I close my files and sit up.
A teenage girl walks in, her blonde curly hair pale as moonlight and floating around her. Her skin is practically translucent, and she’s covered from head-to-toe in gauzy white fabric. Her scent washes over me, lavender lulling me into a false sense of calm.
I stand up and hold my hand out, smiling brightly. “You must be Annika,” I say. She holds her hand out delicately, curtsying when I take it. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I sit, and she copies the movement. Her lips are pink and pouty, and her eyes are wide, her blue irises unnaturally huge. “Eve,” she purrs. There’s something alluring about her voice, but I shake it off. “I knew your father. Wonderful man. I’m glad to see that you’ve returned.”
I nod and page through the planner. It has every contact my father ever made when he ran the pack. I was the only one who knew about the pack’s business, the details that went into it.
“Yes, I’m glad to be back,” I say, leaning back in my seat. “I wanted to check if you were still in business. The previous alpha—” I snort at the word. He’d been little more than a joke “—ran this place into the ground, but now that I’m back, we’d love to resume our previous work.”
Annika smiles, her lips breaking like glass over her porcelain teeth, her canines far longer and sharper than that of a human. “I’ll have to bring it up with my coven, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem. We’ve always been friends with your family, ever since you moved to the area.”
I nod. “Fantastic. We’re looking at tracking down some hunters who have our pups. Think you can manage?”
Her grin goes wider, more wicked. Her blue contacts disintegrate in her eyes, revealing her true red irises. “Of course.”
After she leaves, I put a check by her name. So far, we have vampires and fae that are on our side. I still have to contact Adam and Theo, although they’re much harder to track down. They’d filled me in on their business with my dad, but I’m not sure if they’ll still be a help as long as dragons are stuck being on the run.
Another knock sounds at the door, and I lean back and sigh. Freya walks in before I invite her, leaning against the wall. Her injuries have fully healed. I expect Poppy to come in after her, but she doesn’t follow.
“Gloria is babysitting,” she says, yawning. Working with paranormal clients and allies means a nocturnal schedule, so she must have only just woken up. “I was thinking about going to Taco Bell. You in?”
I look through my planner, then shrug. “Sure.”
We take my dad’s SUV with the blacked-out windows. It had been in terrible condition when I returned, but a friend of his who needed some night security fixed it up. It may be an older vehicle, but it runs like a top.
I wind through the dark city streets, pulling up to the drive-through of the first Taco Bell we spot. Freya leans an arm and her head out of the passenger side, the wind whipping her fiery hair around and flushing her face red.
“A dozen tacos,” I call when the employee asks for my order. The city is practically abandoned at this hour, so after paying and getting our food, I pull away and park in an abandoned mall parking lot.
Freya leans back in her chair, her face suddenly sullen.
“What’s going on?” I ask, watching her. She sits up when she realizes I’m evaluating her, squaring her shoulders.
“Why me?” she asks. “I mean, I’m only a half-blood. It’s not like I’m useful to you like Anderson and Thompson were.”
I shake my head and laugh. “I don’t just choose mates because of how useful they’ll be to me, you know.” I pause. “It may seem like it, and that’s definitely part of it, but…” I reach over, placing a hand on her knee. She looks down at it, then up at me under her long, enviable lashes. Her features are hard to read, but I can smell the lust on her.
“Eve,” she breathes, her voice and heartbeat the only sounds in the city night. I lean toward her, our midnight meal forgotten on the floorboard. She reaches up, brushing a hand over my cheek. Her acrylic nails sparkle in the dim streetlight that flickers above our lone vehicle, and I lean into her touch.
“I did it because I want you,” I growl. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but in my half-drugged state, staring up at Freya as she leaned over me in that courtyard had been like staring at a goddess. At my words, she leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I moan into her, my body on fire at her touch. I clamber over the center console, straddling her hips. I have to slouch to keep from hitting my head, but I have to be kissing her.
She bites my bottom lip hard enough to draw a few droplets of blood, and then she laps it up, the wound closing almost instantly.
I run my hands down her shoulders, and goosebumps raise on her bare arms. Then, I move to her waist, tucking my fingers under the hem of her shirt. She senses my desperation and drags her shirt off as quickly as she can, then does the same with mine. I’m wearing the same lacy bra I wore when I first arrived in the city, and my nipples pebble obviously under the sheer fabric. She uses one finger to move it out of the way and clamps down with her lips, sucking and rolling the sensitive area under her tongue.
I let out a moan, far too loud for this little car. My hips grind over hers, and she gasps. “Backseat,” she manages. I practically leap back there, not even caring that I’m running out of the SUV in my bra as I yank the back door open and climb into the bac
k.
She joins me, prompting me to sit up in the very center seat while she rests on her knees in front of me. She trails her lips down my jaw and throat, leaving nothing but fire and devastation everywhere she touches. She unhooks my bra in one expert move, and I shrug it off, allowing her to take my plum nipples back into her mouth. I arch my back into her, and she scrapes my back with her acrylic nails before tugging my pants down.
Then, her lips release my breast and keep moving down, her hands tugging down my mismatched panties. She kisses the sensitive skin right at the top of my hip, and I buck against her. “Freya,” I groan, the need growing inside me. She runs a finger carefully over my slit, her manicure not built for this precarious situation. Then, she parts me with two fingers and moves her head down, her tongue tracing all the way from the bottom of my cunt to the clit before moving in circles over that spot. I cry out, bucking against her once again.
“You taste fucking amazing,” she says, her breath tingling over me. I whine and roll my hips, slowly this time. She licks along me again, dipping her tongue into me for just a moment. Then, she hooks her arms under my thighs so that I’m straddling my shoulders. I wonder what she’s doing, but she grips my ass and forces my hips to roll slowly. Oh. Oh. I allow her to control me, and she consumes me with an unmatched fervor.
After we’ve gotten into a rhythm, her teeth take my clit and tighten in the barest of bites, sending shockwaves of pleasure and pain through my entire nervous system. I gasp and jerk, grabbing her hair for some semblance of control. She doesn’t even give me a moment to adapt, instead sucking on my clit while massaging my ass. I throw my head back as everything inside me builds.
When I fall apart, she doesn’t let go. Instead, she gets more intense, sucking harder and slapping my ass hard enough that it will surely leave a red mark. My thighs tense, and the earthquake inside me doesn’t end. Instead, it just keeps going, my cunt throbbing as my orgasm crashes through me over and over, a nonstop barrage of waves crashing against an unyielding shore.
Rogue Wolf (Lycans of Eve Book 1) Page 11
