by T. Cobbin
Pete pulled her against his body again. “Okay, you win, but if at any time you want to go home, say so, all right?” He wasn’t happy about it. He wanted to take her home, wrap her up, and look after her. But fighting with her would make her more stressed.
“Promise,” she agreed, settling back into his arms with a smile on her face.
“Work it is, boss,” he called out.
Tonight was going to be one long fucking evening; he was sure of it, but he was proud of her. She wasn’t curled up in a ball, scared to death. She wanted to be back at work. Let the bastard come, he thought, he’ll have a fight on his hands. Pete had more to fight for now too.
Climbing out of the car a little later, Pete watched as Amy and Melanie ran across the car park and gathered their friend into loving arms and held her tight.
“Oh God, when Troy told me you had been in a crash I was so worried. You okay?” Amy asked.
“The healing hands of one’s mate helps.” Wendy hugged her friends and then pulled back so they could walk into the club arm in arm.
Troy slapped a hand on Pete’s shoulder. “That’s one tough cookie you have there.”
“Aye, she is. So Dennenth and Sarah back yet?”
Troy stopped short. “You want to talk about them now? What the fuck, man? Some bastard just rolled your car with your mate in it.”
Pete flipped. “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I was scared shitless when I heard her cry out? I can’t fight what I can’t see for fuck’s sake,” he shouted. His fists were clenched at his sides as anger boiled through his veins. He had tried to stay as calm as possible because of Wendy, but now that Troy had confronted him he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Whoa, buddy. Okay, I’m sorry.” Troy held his hands up. “Wanna take a swing?” he said with a smile as he held his chin forward and pointed to it.
“Fuck off,” Pete snarled and walked away from his friend. “I think I need to find new fucking friends,” he muttered when Troy caught up with him and slapped his back, laughing.
“Hey, you needed to let some of that fire out. I know what it’s like to worry about losing your mate.”
Pete paused, looking over at the club’s back doors. His mate, Amy, and Melanie were all standing in the lit doorway, looking out at them. Troy did know what it was like to lose a mate—he’d lost Amy even before he’d known who she was. A one-night stand had turned into his nightmare; for six whole weeks he’d been close to losing his mind, but that all ended the day he found Amy again.
Looking at Wendy, Pete calmed both himself and his dragon. She was fine. Worried eyes met his. He smiled and sent overflowing love to her through their bond. With a nod she and her friends turned and headed into the club.
“I’m going to find that fucker before he kills me.”
“And I’ll be right there with you,” Troy said.
Pete saw Jaxon nodding his head too, agreeing to be there alongside them. In all the time Pete had known Jaxon, he had hardly heard the man say more than ten words. Jaxon hadn’t been working at Dragon’s Heart long, but all dragon shifters were damn loyal to their friends.
“Come on, we better go in. I have a week’s worth of shit to catch up on,” Troy said with a salacious grin on his face.
“Good honeymoon I gather?” Pete asked, chuckling.
“Sun, sea, and plenty of sex,” Troy said, sighing. “My mate is pregnant again.” Pete watched the male puff his chest out with pride.
“Well, I didn’t get a week’s worth of sun and sea, but I sure got a whole lot of sex. Wendy’s also pregnant, although I haven’t told her yet.”
Troy paled. “She still is?”
Pete shuddered at the thought that she could have lost it in the crash. Thank the goddess she didn’t.
“Yeah, the whelp is strong.” He nodded, his own chest puffing in pride. He could feel the very thin bond he shared already with his child.
“Congrats, man.” Troy slapped him on his back again. Then he paused. “You letting her work?”
Pete shook his head. “You ever tried telling your mate what to do?”
Troy thought about that for a few seconds then nodded. “Yeah, okay, you win.”
“Oh God, look at you two. It makes me both sick and happy to see you two so gleeful,” Jaxon grumbled. “I’m still looking for my mate. Could be years, if ever.”
Pete saw the grief of loneliness in his friend’s eyes. He had been watching his friend get more depressed as the months went by.
“Don’t give in just yet,” he urged. “There’s still time.”
“Troy,” Todd, the club’s manager, called out as they entered the building.
“What’s up?” his friend asked, closing the back door.
“A car came speeding past a few minutes ago and threw a box into the doorway.”
“What the fuck?” Troy cursed.
Pete had a feeling he knew what was coming. “Where’s the box?” he asked.
“Brock picked it up and looked it over. There was a cuddle toy inside it, ripped to pieces. He said it was safe, so he put it in your office.”
“Where are the girls?” Troy asked.
“Amy took Wendy to your office a few minutes ago. Melanie’s gone back to work,” Todd answered.
“Bring me camera footage. I’ll be in my office. Jaxon, doors,” he ordered and strode off.
Pete followed, knowing he had answers to the coming questions.
Chapter 15
Stepping into Troy’s office, Pete headed straight for his mate. “Hey, sugar, how you feeling now?”
“I’m good.” She smiled at him. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, poking the box with a finger.
He nodded. “It was thrown in the doorway of the club a little while ago.”
She rubbed her cheek against the arm he had around her. “It’s okay. It’s not as if you planned this.”
He looked down at her in surprise. It would seem his little mate was getting better at reading his emotions. Guilt was running him hard at the moment. He felt bad bringing her into a world of shit that should only belong to him. He kissed her forehead and looked in the box. Another ripped up, stuffed toy dragon was inside, this one green.
“No card?” he asked Todd.
“Card?” Todd said, looking confused.
Pete sighed and moved the stuffing around until he saw a white card on the bottom of the box. It must have fallen out of the toy’s mouth when it was thrown. Picking it up, he closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Opening his eyes again, he read the card.
You only get one free pass.
“What’s on the other side?” Troy asked, reading the card over his shoulder.
Pete flipped it and again had to take a breath.
’Til we meet again!
Kill, find him and kill him, Blue repeated over and over in his head.
“What are you going to do?” Troy asked quietly.
“End it,” he said while trying to control his anger. Glancing at the words one more time, he threw the card into the trash and walked away.
A few hours later the club was winding down. Most of the occupants had left, only a few stragglers remained. Pete stretched, looking forward to going home with Wendy. All of a sudden the club’s music stopped, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. He scented his mate before he heard her footsteps on the carpeted floor. He waited until she was close enough then spun and scooped her up in his arms. Her squeal quickly turned into a giggle.
“One day, my dragon, I will get you.” She smiled up at him.
He pulled her up so he could kiss her, his lips mashing on hers. Her lips opened, giving him access, and his tongue stroked over hers. Her taste coated his tongue, and lust stirred in his blood. It felt like forever since he’d been inside her.
“Hey, get a room,” someone shouted in the background.
Unwillingly, he pulled back from her. “Ready to head home?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’
m knackered.”
“Okay.” He placed her back on her feet and cupped her face. “Let’s get rid of the stragglers and lock up.” Kissing the tip of her nose, he went to the main floor and started rounding the strays up.
Half an hour later the last client walked—or more accurately, staggered—out of the club, and Pete locked the doors. At last, time to go home. He looked around the foyer for his mate, but he couldn’t find her. Frowning, he sent a feeler through their shared bond and again came up with nothing. What the fuck? He hadn’t been gone that long. Where had she disappeared to?
Inhaling deeply, he could smell Wendy’s flowery aroma but just barely. With so many scents in the air her’s was distant. He walked to the main floor and looked up at Troy’s office. Maybe she’d gone up there to sit with Amy until he closed and fell asleep? Then, as he inhaled again, he caught a faint aroma that made his skin crawl. He roared!
* * * *
Wendy admired the pure masculine appeal of Pete’s body as she watched him walk to the main dance floor. What a very fine arse he had. She couldn’t wait to get home.
“Hey, Wendy,” called Bernadette, one of the barmaids. “Can I ask a favor? My babysitter just rang and said she has an emergency, so I need to get out of here, but I have to take the empties out to the back,” she said walking toward Wendy, her voice dropping as she got closer.
“I’ll take them. Don’t worry, you go ahead.” Wendy smiled at her.
“You are a star. I owe you.” Bernadette gave her a hug then quickly dashed out the front door.
Wendy glanced over at Pete, who was dealing with a drunken brunette in a skimpy party dress. The woman was drooling over him, and Wendy shook her head. She knew full well that the only time her man would lay a hand on a chick like that was in the woman’s dreams, or to chuck her out of the club. Pete was well and truly hers.
Wendy walked to the bar and picked up one of the three crates of empty bottles waiting to be taken to the recycling bin, then headed out the back door. Dropping the crate in the bin, she headed back in to get the next one when a nasal sounding voice surprised her.
“He will miss you too. This time he won’t be close enough to heal you, just like with his family,” it said.
She turned around to see a man not much taller than she was. He had a long, thin, gray beard. His gray hair was long enough to touch his bony shoulders. His skin looked like it was stretched over his bones. His eyes held the look of a crazy man.
“Sir, you shouldn’t be back here,” she said as politely as possible, while backing up toward the club.
Fear jolted through her; Pete would feel that, right? For a few seconds she felt like someone had just rattled her brain around in her head, then she fell to the ground. Again? was the last thought she had before she passed out.
Darkness, pain, then a roar loud enough to hurt her ears brought her back to reality. Slowly opening her eyes, she tried to move but found her hands tied together with some kind of tape. Her legs, arms, and mouth had tape on them too. What the fuck?
Her head hurt like a bitch again. Looking around, she saw she was lying on her side behind a counter of some sort. Gradually, she made out that it was the cloakroom. She’d worked it enough to know what it looked like. Another roar ripped through the air. Pete; she knew it was her mate. He was in pain—deep, undeniable pain.
She could almost feel his heart breaking through their bond. Not sure if it would help, she sent a warm flow of love through to him. At least he would know she was alive. In the next instant she heard his voice scream for her.
“Wendy!”
She tried to answer, but only a small, muffled sound came out.
“Wendy!” he repeated.
Fuck! She needed to get to Pete. She began scraping her face along the carpeted floor, trying to somehow unstick the tape on her mouth.
“Are you missing something?” the smarmy, nasal voice said.
“Where is she?” Pete shouted.
A hand suddenly appeared in Wendy’s view and pressed her head against the floor. Fuck, there was someone else there. The cold, hard press of metal against her skin had her stilling. She looked up with her eyes to see a young man looking down at her with a sick smirk on his face. He didn’t even look old enough to shave, although his eyes told a different story. They were filled with amusement and of horrors to come that he would thoroughly enjoy. Crap!
“Don’t fucking move again,” he whispered close enough to her ear that she could smell alcohol on his breath.
* * * *
“Are you missing something?”
Pete looked as the frail body of the caretaker who had killed his family stepped in front of him. The years had not been kind to the man. Inhaling, Pete could smell the spray the man must have used—pine, wood—and stale cigarette smoke.
“Where is she?” Pete asked.
Blue was pushing against his skin, wanting out to toast the fucker. This man had killed their family, and now he had their mate.
“And how the hell did you get in here?” Pete asked.
The old man wore a beige sweater that had holes in it, and a tatty pair of jeans. It was then Pete noticed the silver Smith and Wesson gun the bloke held in his thin hands.
“It’s you I want. She’s just a bonus. Where are the other dragons?” the man asked, not answering Pete’s question.
“You really think you can take me on, as well as my friends?” he asked the man.
“While I have your woman I do. Your kind will do anything for your mates, won’t you? At least that’s one thing I learned about you things before I took care of your family.”
“Tell me where she is,” Pete roared.
Suddenly, an intense feeling of love flowed through to him from the bond he shared with Wendy. He breathed a sigh of relief knowing that she was still alive...for now.
Chapter 16
“The likes of you shouldn’t exist. Does it hurt knowing a mere human killed your family? I nearly killed your woman too, didn’t I? Not a bad shot if I say so myself. Shame your kind have some sort of healing magic. I remember seeing you do it on the island when your sister got hurt. That’s why I choose to kill you first,” the old man taunted. “My friend is young and sometimes careless, but he likes your woman.”
Out of the corner of his eye Pete saw Troy and Brock coming down from upstairs. Another small movement from his other side and he saw Jaxon and Cole coming out of one of the back rooms. He knew from their bond that Wendy was close, maybe even in the club. But would this crazy man in front of him come alone?
As if reading Pete’s thought, the man’s face lifted up on one side, his lips tilted up in a smile that hadn’t been used in years by the looks of it. “I’m not stupid. I didn’t come alone.” The man turned his head to look over at Troy and Brock. “I know you’re the green one,” he said, waving the gun toward Troy. “But you,” he said, waving the gun toward Brock, “I have no idea what you are. Are you human or one of them?” He spat the last word.
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. This man’s my boss, that’s all.” Brock shrugged as if he really didn’t know.
“Where’s the other fucker?” the man shouted at Pete. “The other dragon man, the red one? I know there are three of you left, I saw you on the island.” When no one answered he looked toward Brock again. “Does a long, blond-haired Scottish bloke work here?”
Brock again shrugged like he didn’t know.
Pete carefully went over things in his head. With himself, Troy, Brock, Cole, and Jaxon there...even with the man having a gun, they could take him down. But if what he’d said about an accomplice was true, they would have to get to him before Wendy got hurt. Pete wasn’t sure where she was, but he knew someone who could find out.
Blue, I’m going to draw his attention, giving Troy and Brock a chance to take him down before he fires that weapon. We’re going to have to do it quietly so we don’t spook the other if there is one. I need you to concentrate on Wendy and get to
her fast. You’re the one who can talk to her unheard.
Sure. Blue nodded in his head. Let me out.
Pete glanced around, making sure he was in the best position to release his dragon. He didn’t want to damage the club. The main dance area would have been better as the ceiling was a lot higher. Troy would go ballistic at him if he caused a lot of destruction.
Pete glanced behind the ranting caretaker and gave an infinitesimal nod toward Cole and Jaxon. Taking a step back, he drew the man’s attention like he planned.
“It will be a cold day in hell before you harm anyone else,” he said, and with a flash he released an excited Blue.
“Don’t fucking torch him here, or I’ll be sending you the bill,” Troy whispered quickly when Blue appeared, but low enough that only a shifter could hear.
* * * *
Blue wasn’t interested in the caretaker. His only concern was Wendy. The fact the man was now under a pile of four shifter bodies wasn’t his problem.
“Little mate?”
“Blue,” Came the sound of Wendy’s relieved voice. “Oh, thank God it’s you. I have tape over my mouth and can’t speak. I’m behind the counter in the cloakroom. A man has a blade to my throat, and I can’t move. Blue, please help.” He could hear the panic in her voice.
“Calm. I need some info. I guess he can’t see what’s going on, but he can hear, right?”
“His head is higher than mine, but he isn’t looking over the counter. He is listening though.”
“If I was to pull him away from your body, would the knife injure you?”
“He’s holding the knife on top of my neck. You would have to pull him up.”
“Hold on, little mate. Be brave.”
Turning his bulky body, Blue peered over the top of the cloakroom counter and quickly struck with his mouth, picking the man up with his head between his teeth, and pulled him over the counter top.
“Little mate?” Blue asked, a little worried that the man he held had harmed her.
