by Paige Tyler
Knox raced up the steps, desperate to catch up to Rachel and the men she was chasing. But she had a good thirty-second head start, and as fast as she’d been moving, he wasn’t sure he could get to her in time.
When he reached the third-floor landing, he yanked open the door, then sprinted down the hall. He took the first left-hand turn followed by a right, then another right. He had no idea where the hell he was headed, but everything inside him told him to keep going, so he did.
He was sure he was completely lost when he heard shooting from up ahead. Snarling, he ran faster.
Knox finally caught up to Rachel as she opened a heavy steel door to another stairwell. She glanced over her shoulder as she led the way down the steps, taking them three and four at a time. Damn, she was so graceful it was difficult not to stop and stare.
“Is someone guarding Jennifer and the kids?” she asked.
Below, Knox heard heavy footsteps, then the clanging of a door. “Ethan is with them.”
When they got to the first floor, Rachel yanked open the door and rushed out of the building. Knox had enough time to realize they were in the parking garage before a burst of automatic weapon fire sent both of them diving for the pavement. He didn’t get hit, but Knox’s heart slammed into his ribs when he heard Rachel grunt in pain. But before he could even see where she’d been shot, she was up and running after the bad guys again.
He raced after her to see a black SUV with heavily tinted windows speed up to the curb, where the two would-be assassins were waiting. The moment the men jumped in, the vehicle squealed away. He and Rachel put round after round of bullets through the back window, but while the glass shattered, the big SUV didn’t slow.
Knox cursed and lowered his weapon, knowing there was no chance they could catch them. The vehicle was already racing out of the garage and gaining speed.
Beside him, Rachel growled and took off running so fast she was almost a blur. He automatically followed, stunned when they started to catch up to the vehicle. The bad guys must have realized he and Rachel were chasing them because the SUV turned onto the exit road so fast it almost flipped. Rachel jumped a row of hedges and took off cross-country to cut them off.
Knox did the same, throwing a quick glance left and right, praying no one saw them. He couldn’t imagine explaining how they were able to chase down a speeding vehicle. Thankfully, it was poorly lit and no one else was around.
He knew Rachel was better at this werewolf thing than he was, but he was still shocked at how fast she could run, and it was all he could do not to get left behind. She snarled at him over her shoulder, her eyes glowing red instead of their usual green when she shifted.
Okay, that’s different.
Knox pushed harder to catch up to her, but no matter how fast he ran, she stayed ahead of him.
As they reached the access road that led toward the tollway, Knox opened his mouth to call out to her, but his head abruptly stopped working when he caught a scent he didn’t recognize. The werewolf inside him did, though.
It was blood.
Rachel’s blood.
Panic like he’d never felt before overwhelmed him. Rachel had been shot and the smell of her blood was driving his inner wolf insane with fear.
Knox ran faster, and when he demanded more speed from his body, this time it delivered. He vaguely felt the muscles of his legs and back twisting and tearing as they changed into a different, more powerful shape. He leaned forward so far he was damn near close to dropping down on all fours. He didn’t know what was happening—and he didn’t care—as long as he caught up to Rachel. As his concern for her grew, so did the need to punish the men who’d hurt her.
He didn’t even realize he was growling until Rachel snapped her head around to look at him again. All at once, the red glow in her eyes faded and she slid to a stop in front of him, her hands coming up to his chest to halt him.
“Knox, calm down,” she said. “You’re losing control.”
He had no clue what the hell she was talking about. In fact, he was having a hard time thinking at all. Then he lifted a hand and saw that his claws were extended even farther than they’d been the other night at her apartment. He carefully lifted his hand to his face and confirmed his fangs were out, too. Hell, his whole jawline had changed shape to fit all the teeth he’d suddenly sprouted.
He glanced at the SUV that was getting away, the urge to chase it down and kill the men who’d shot her impossible to ignore. But Rachel’s hand on his chest kept him where he was.
“Let them go,” she said firmly. “You can’t chase after them when you’re so out of control. If you do, you’ll probably end up tearing them apart right in the middle of Interstate 635. The cops are already on their way, and we can’t have anyone seeing you like this.”
Knox watched the taillights of the SUV disappear around a corner. They were gone, and he knew there was no way to catch them now. Besides, Rachel was right about the cops. He could already see the glow of flashing lights strobing against the night sky.
He took a deep breath, hoping it might calm him down enough to lose the werewolf accessories. But the extra air only made his inner wolf howl more when all he could smell was the scent of Rachel’s blood.
“You’re bleeding!” he said, running his hands down her body, trying to find the wound and see how bad it was.
“No duh.” She backed up. “And you’ll be bleeding too if you try to grope me while your claws are out.”
He was smart enough not to touch her again, but he continued to visually search her body in the dark, smelling the blood but still unable to pinpoint the source. And his damn nose wasn’t helping him at all. Not being able to see how badly Rachel was hurt pushed his shift even further. His claws and fangs extended so far so fast it plain hurt.
And the lights and sirens were getting closer by the second. The cops were going to be there any minute.
Shit.
Realizing he was never going to be able to change back in time, Knox threw a quick glance over his shoulder. Maybe he could find a place to hide in the parking garage.
Rachel must have realized what he was thinking because she reached up and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Relax,” she said, her voice gentle. “Trust me and I’ll get you through this, okay?”
He didn’t know how he could feel the warmth of her hands through his suit, but he could, and they were the most comforting thing he’d ever felt. But even that couldn’t compare to the serene expression in her eyes. He expected her to start talking about running through the mountains or some crap like that, but instead, she grabbed the bottom of her uniform T-shirt with one hand and yanked the material out from under her equipment belt, pulling it up until he could see several inches of perfectly toned stomach…along with the blood marring that perfection.
He growled again.
“It’s okay,” she said, wiping away the blood between her waistline and lowest rib. “The bullet punched through the muscle below my ribs, so it didn’t hit anything important and barely hurt at all. See? It’s healing up already. In a few hours, it will be completely sealed, and nothing more than a slight scar in a week or so.”
Knox let out a breath, more relieved than he’d expected.
Rachel lowered her shirt and wiped her bloody palm on the leg of her pants, then took his hands in hers. “I’m okay, so let’s get you to shift back now. Because I have no idea how I’d explain this if someone saw.”
It took a little while. In fact, the emergency vehicles were already moving around the mall parking garage by the time they were done. But Rachel finally got him tucked back into his normal form, no claws or fangs in sight.
“Come on,” she said. “We need to get back in there before the DPD shuts down the entire Galleria and blames it on us.”
Knox nodded, and together, they jogged through the parking garage and the stairwell they’d come
out of. While he should have been trying to remember the twists and turns they’d taken on their run through the service corridors of the mall, instead, all he could think about was Rachel—the grace she’d displayed as she ran, the way her eyes glowed red in apparent anger, the scent of her blood and how it had made him completely lose his mind. But more than anything, he thought about how much it had disturbed him when he’d seen all that blood smeared across the perfect skin of her stomach.
What was this woman doing to him?
Chapter 7
“Sorry about all that crap back at the mall.”
Rachel slid into the restaurant booth across from Knox and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to overcome the worst case of helmet head she’d ever had. Well, technically it was the only case of helmet head she’d ever had, since she’d never ridden on a motorcycle before. Still, it made her understand why Knox had been so quick to let her use his helmet while he went without. When he’d offered, she’d thought he was simply being a gentleman. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe he simply didn’t like the way it messed up his hair. On the other hand, she was thrilled with how much fun it had been to ride on the back of his bike. Finally giving up on her hair, she dug a ponytail holder out of her pocket and put it up.
“I don’t know what they were thinking, blaming you and the DAPS guys for the ambush. They were out of line,” she added as she skimmed the menu. She probably shouldn’t waste her time. They were at a pizza place. What else would they order?
Out of line was putting it nicely. Both Gage and Chief Leclair had shown up at the mall, furious when they found out the hired killers had known the exact route the family would be taking through the mall’s service corridors—information they could only have gotten from an inside source. They’d immediately thought someone at DAPS was responsible for the leak, even though Theo insisted the mole must be in the DPD or someone in mall security.
At least no one suggested Knox was involved. Not only had he almost gotten killed, but he’d also been the one responsible for the dead bad guy they were still trying to identify. All in all, the scene had been tense and had only gotten worse when Diego, Trey, and Zane had arrived. Diego lost his mind when he realized she’d been shot, immediately blaming Knox, saying it wouldn’t have happened if he’d been there. Knox and Diego had damn near come to blows before Gage and Rachel had stepped in to separate them.
“Don’t worry about it,” Knox murmured, reading his own menu for all of three seconds before setting it on the table. “Everyone was heated up over the attack on the prosecutor and looking to vent. Thanks for sticking up for me, though. I’m pretty sure your pack mates weren’t too thrilled about it.”
Understatement there. Taking Knox’s side in the ensuing argument had thrown her pack mates—especially Diego—for a loop. When she’d told him she was blowing off dinner with him to go out with Knox instead, he’d almost blown a gasket. She’d owe him a big apology later…with donuts. Putting an outsider before the Pack was going to rankle for a while. But Knox had saved her life, dammit.
“They’ll get over it,” she said with a shrug, not sure if that was true.
Diego had actually pulled her off to the side, wanting to know if she was sure about what she was doing. He thought she was overreacting to the intense situation they’d just gone through together, warning her that Knox was a player only interested in one thing and couldn’t be trusted. She told her pack mate it wasn’t like that, insisting Knox was simply a new werewolf she was trying to help out. Diego didn’t look like he believed her.
Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what to believe herself. So many things had happened over the past few hours that her head was still spinning.
She was distracted from deeper contemplation on how screwed up her life was at the moment by the arrival of their server, a thin teenager with glasses and a bored expression who looked like he’d rather be anywhere in the world but here.
“What can I get you?” he asked, not bothering to look up from his notepad. If the guy were any less engaged in his job, he’d be a zombie.
She glanced at Knox. “Pepperoni good for you?”
When Knox nodded, she turned back to the waiter and ordered two medium pepperoni pies and breadsticks to hold them over until the pizza got there.
“And unsweetened iced tea for me—no lemon,” she added. Asking for anything but sweet tea was practically a crime back in Tennessee, but in Dallas no one batted an eye.
“Make that two,” Knox said.
The kid walked away without a word, making Rachel wonder if there was any chance of getting what they’d asked for. In the server’s sudden absence, silence descended over the table. But it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind. At least not as uncomfortable as it could have been, she guessed.
It was well after eight o’clock, so the dinner rush was mostly over and there were only half a dozen customers in the restaurant. With an open kitchen so diners could watch pizzas being made in the brick ovens and framed photos of Italy on the walls, the place was seriously quaint. The red-and-white-checked tablecloths only added to the charm. But it was the aroma filling the dining room that was the real treat. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but now she couldn’t wait for the food to get here.
“Are we going to talk about what happened earlier?” Knox asked quietly.
Rachel tensed. She wasn’t sure where Knox was going with this but was afraid she might have an idea. Of all the stuff that had happened during the ambush and in the chase that had followed, the only thing that had freaked her out was the one part she couldn’t remember.
She couldn’t explain it, but she couldn’t recall anything from the moment she’d run out of the stairwell into the parking garage to when she’d found herself standing in the middle of the highway access road with her hands on Knox’s chest. She vaguely remembered being angry, but then it was a complete blank—like an alcoholic blackout without the entertainment value of the booze. And it was scaring the hell out of her. She didn’t know much about PTSD, but losing time had to be bad.
“What do you want to talk about?” She met his gaze, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt. “We were ambushed. We chased the bad guys. They got away. What’s to talk about?”
Before Knox could say anything, their nameless server reappeared carrying a serving tray with a pitcher of tea, two glasses with ice, breadsticks, marinara dipping sauce, and a little bowl of sweetener packs. Dang, the kid had actually paid attention. He still didn’t acknowledge their existence as he placed the stuff on the table and left, but maybe that was asking too much.
As Knox poured tea into the glasses, Rachel pounced on the still-warm breadsticks. Partly because she was hungry, but mostly to put off answering any questions for as long as possible. The breadsticks were crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside, and perfectly seasoned. Good thing she was a werewolf and could eat anything she wanted or this particular avoidance technique would have required one hell of an exercise program.
“There are a few things I’ve been wanting to ask you, but I’ll start with the easy stuff first,” Knox said, obviously missing the part where she was stuffing her face to avoid talking. “Like how you knew about the ambush. I’ve spent years in combat and didn’t have any idea it was coming until the shooting started. I mean, I felt this weird tingle on the back of my neck, but I didn’t know why.”
“That was your inner wolf telling you something was up,” Rachel said.
She paused to take another bite of garlic-flavored breadstick, following it with a big sip of tea. Then she delayed a little longer by adding a few packets of sweetener to the drink.
“I picked up their scents the moment we entered that hallway,” she added. “It wasn’t until I smelled the gun oil on their weapons that I realized we were walking into an ambush.”
She couldn’t bring herself to admit she’d nearly gotten them killed by confusing the sce
nt coming off the assassin’s weapons with the pheromones Knox put off on a nearly constant basis. That was a secret she’d keep to herself for a while. Like forever. She didn’t plan to ever let him know he smelled like her favorite scent. She felt her face heat just thinking about it.
Knox stared at her incredulously. “Damn, it would have been nice to have a talent like that back when I was still in the SEALs.” He reached for a breadstick and dipped it in the sauce. “So, what about after the ambush? I tried to get your attention when you were running down that SUV, but you turned and snarled at me. And the way your eyes were glowing, it was like you’d completely lost it. What was that about? And is that something else I have to worry about happening to me?”
Rachel almost groaned. So that was what happened during her blackout. She’d lost her mind and gone feral. Great.
“You already know from experience that we lose it now and then,” she said. “The newer you are to the whole werewolf thing, the more likely you are to lose control. But no, I don’t think you need to worry about having an episode like I did. I think what you saw might be a problem unique to me.”
He snorted. “I don’t know about that. I lost control when I smelled your blood and realized you got shot.”
Rachel took another bite of breadstick, without the dipping sauce this time. She didn’t know what to think about what he’d just admitted. That he’d lost control when he smelled her blood probably meant something significant, but she didn’t want to ponder that now. She was too worried about her own problems.
“But you remember losing control. I don’t,” she explained. “I’ve talked to enough of my pack mates to know that’s not normal. I think maybe I kind of black out a little.”
He regarded her thoughtfully, but before he could say anything, their server was back with the pepperoni pizzas they’d ordered. They were large instead of medium, but she wasn’t going to complain. She was starving.
