by J. L. Wilder
Some people might rather be slapped than allow strangers to paw at them, Maddy thought. But she knew better than to speak up. Besides, it wasn’t as if it would matter. If any of the women protested the handling they were about to get, they wouldn’t just be slapped—they would be slapped and then held still and made to endure it anyway.
“When your number is called,” the man continued, “you’ll step forward from the line. If you are asked to turn, bend over, or display yourself in any other way, you will do so. When the bidding is finished, the winner will come up onstage, and you’ll be transferred to his custody. Once this happens, you’re no longer our problem. We won’t intercede on your behalf. Obey your new masters and you’ll stay unharmed. Clear?”
No one moved.
“I said, is that clear?”
Slowly, one by one, the women nodded. One of them let out a soft sob.
The man turned and left the room without another word.
Maddy felt sick. She was more resolved than ever to make an escape, to get away from these people while the getting was good. But how could she possibly leave all these women behind, knowing what they were in for? Didn’t that make her just as bad as the men who were selling them?
If there’s any way I can get them out, she resolved, I’ll do it. I’ll come back for them.
But first, she needed to figure out how to get out on her own.
Another man came into the room now and began rounding up women to go onstage in the first round. Maddy shrank back, hoping not to be noticed. If she could get some time to herself, some time to explore the possibilities while the Death Fangs were distracted with the auction and the first group of women, she might just find her chance.
Luck was with her, for the first time since she’d been kidnapped at thirteen years old. The man finished choosing the group of women he wanted and led them out the door without looking at Maddy. Perfect. Now, she had her window.
But how to get out of this place?
There was only one door—the door the man had come through. The door he’d just left through with all the women in tow. There were no other exits to the barn. There was only one window, high up on the back wall. She would have to take the same exit he’d taken.
And she’d have to do it without being seen.
She edged along the wall, moving slowly, doing her best not to attract the notice of the other women in the room. It wasn’t difficult. They were all too caught up in their own plight. A few looked up when they heard the sound of the door creaking open, but no one moved to stop her. She doubted any of them had the nerve.
Maddy peeked out the door. No one was nearby. The women who had left the barn were being chivvied up onto the stage by a rough looking pair of men. The rest of the Death Fangs were circulating among the guests.
They hadn’t even posted a guard. This was going to be too easy.
She crept around the side of the barn. From here, she was behind and to the right of the stage itself, and the barn blocked her from view of any of the participants at the auction. Unless someone happened to come walking around the corner, they wouldn’t see her.
She was free.
But her freedom would be short-lived, she knew, unless she formulated some kind of plan. And she would have to act quickly. Once the women on stage had been sold, the Death Fangs would come back to round up their second group. They would notice that someone was missing.
Maddy wasn’t sure exactly what they would do then, but she couldn’t imagine it would be anything good. They would hunt for her, that much was certain. And because they were not only wolves but a particularly dangerous pack, she knew they would be good hunters. It would be best if she was far away from here by the time they discovered she was missing.
Almost, she let her fear drive her animal self into being. Almost, she let herself shift. She could run faster as a wolf, make better time. But her scent as a wolf would make her easier to track. Besides, it had been years since she’d shifted—she’d never done it as an adult—and she wasn’t sure exactly what to expect from the experience.
And she needed to keep her wits about her.
All right, then. She would just have to escape as a human.
But how could she do that? Maddy had done her best to stay in decent shape during the years she’d been locked up. She’d done lunges, squats, and push-ups in her cage. And she’d been let out every day for a jog around the yard, to keep her in good physical condition for the auction. But that didn’t outfit her to perform well as a long-distance runner. If she was going to put miles between herself and her captors, she would need...
She would need a vehicle.
Immediately, she was moving. She knew exactly what she needed to do. Whether she could actually do it was another question, of course. Maddy had been only thirteen when she was kidnapped. She had never even driven a car, much less ridden a motorcycle.
But it was her best chance.
She found the Death Fangs’ bikes parked behind the barn. That was good. The entire building now stood between her and the auction. She couldn’t have asked for a better arrangement. She examined the bikes. They were probably all pretty good, she thought, although she didn’t know anything about motorcycles. She had seen the Death Fangs riding around in the yard back home sometimes, kicking up dust and laughing at each other. She had seen them through the slats of the truck on the way here, holding a tight formation on the highway. It didn’t look too hard.
She moved to the farthest one from the barn. Its keys dangled from the ignition. Maddy couldn’t help herself; she smirked a little. Stupid, overconfident Death Fangs. They’d let her waltz right out of the barn. They’d left their bikes unguarded. It never occurred to them, she supposed, that one of their timid little omegas would have the tenacity to orchestrate her own escape.
She swung one leg over the bike and settled herself on the seat. It wasn’t comfortable. The machine felt far too big for her. She felt for the kickstand and released it, and the bike nearly toppled over before she managed to catch it and right it.
Okay, so maybe the Death Fangs were right to think an omega couldn’t manage this.
But there was no going back now. Maddy was determined. It would be like riding a bike, she decided. Once she got going, it would be easy to balance. She just needed a little momentum to carry her.
She waited quietly, biding her time. She needed a sound to cover her exit.
And the noise she had been waiting for came: a burst of applause. Whistles and cheers and stomping feet. Maddy imagined the women who had been led out onto the stage looking out at that scene, at the men who were here to buy them, and her stomach lurched. She turned the key in the ignition.
The bike rumbled to life beneath her.
The power of it stunned her. It felt as if it were trying to buck her off. She clung to the handlebars tightly, knowing she needed to get moving quickly, before the applause died and someone at the auction registered the sound and came to investigate.
But how did you accelerate on a motorcycle? In a car, you would have stepped on a pedal, she knew, but there were no pedals here.
There was a lever on the left side of the handlebars that reminded Maddy of the brake she remembered on her childhood bike. Hesitantly, she squeezed it.
Nothing happened.
Okay. So that was probably the brake on this bike too. The question was, what made it go?
She examined the controls carefully. The accelerator would need to be something graduated, something you could increase pressure on as you wanted to speed up, not just a simple button. It would be a lever to pull or a dial to turn, or...
Or a handle to twist.
She gripped the right handle grip hard, somehow knowing before she conducted her experiment that she was right. Slowly, as gently as she could, she rotated it forward.
The bike tried to jump out from under her.
Maddy managed not to cry out in shock, but it was close. She released the handle and squeezed the brake. The
bike idled.
Okay. Mystery solved, then.
She steeled herself, grabbed the handle, and twisted it forward again, even more gently than before. Her heart pounded.
The bike eased forward.
Maddy could hardly believe it. It’s going to work. I’m going to escape. I’m going to be free!
The bikes faced a dirt road, and Maddy decided, on a whim, to take it. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere would be better than here. She didn’t dare glance over her shoulder—she would lose her balance, she was sure, if she didn’t keep her gaze on the road straight ahead of her. Already, the bike was wobbling dangerously.
Maybe it would be better once she got off this dirt path and onto a real road. She was pretty sure the highway lay somewhere ahead. Riding the bike on the highway would come with challenges of its own, of course, but at least the ride would be smoother.
Was anyone following her? Had they noticed yet that she was gone? She could only hope not. She was too afraid to look back.
There was a break in the trees up ahead. It’s the highway, Maddy thought, weak with relief. It seemed, somehow, that reaching the highway would be significant, a milestone. It seemed that when she reached the highway her escape would be real. At that point, they wouldn’t be able to find her. They wouldn’t be able to drag her back. They won’t know which way I went.
Branches whipped her face and arms as she went by. On some level, she was aware of their sting, but there was too much adrenaline coursing through her body for her to care very much. She would feel it later, no doubt, but with a little bit of luck, she’d be far from here by then, able to nurse her wounds privately. The Death Fangs had given her far worse than a few scratches in the time she’d been with them.
Maddy broke through the last few branches and onto the paved road, feeling as though she was going very fast. Which way to go now? She had no idea which way they had come from. If she’d known that, she would have gone the opposite way. But all she could do was guess.
Her bike was leaning left. She took it as a sign and turned left.
But it was difficult to make the turn. The bike wobbled beneath her, its weight drifting back and forth. She couldn’t seem to pull it back under control. She tried squeezing the brake, but that made the wobbling worse, so she released it and accelerated instead.
For a moment, the wobble steadied.
And then, it overwhelmed her. She couldn’t control the bike. It was too big for her, too heavy. She forgot her fear of the Death Fangs, forgot about the auction that was even now taking place. She forgot her worry that, at any moment, they would realize she’d run and come bursting out of the woods after her to carry her back, to punish her and put her up on that stage.
In that moment, all she could think of was the massive bike slipping out from under her and the asphalt rushing up to meet her face.
The last thought that occurred to Maddy as she fell was that she had no regrets. Whatever pain this might bring, she had tried to escape. She had done her very best to win her freedom. That mattered. And even though her escape had failed, she clung to a fierce feeling of pride as the bike tipped over on her.
Then there was pain, scraping and raw, and a blunt blow to her head, and Maddy’s world faded around her.
Chapter Five
They arrived late to the auction, and out of sorts. Mark, in particular, was in a foul mood. He had been up with the dawn, ready to lead his brothers to the auction site so that they could do what needed to be done. He had fully expected them to have come around to his way of thinking during the night, to understand that taking the omega they needed so badly was the only realistic way to proceed.
But it hadn’t gone that way at all.
Jamie hadn’t spoken a word to him as they’d gotten ready. Even when Mark had asked Jamie whether he was planning to come along today or not, he’d gotten no answer. His brother had simply dressed and followed them out to where their bikes were parked. Mark suspected that Jamie couldn’t bear to let him and Harley go into danger by themselves. He would have felt the same way.
But it was Harley who had made them late. He’d come out to the bikes easily enough, but there, he’d stopped. “I don’t know if we should be doing this,” he’d said, looking from Jamie to Mark as though waiting for one of them to provide him with some kind of answer.
They didn’t have time for this, Mark had thought irritably. “I told you,” he’d snapped, “this is the only way we can get an omega. I’m going through with it.”
“I’m not talking about the ethics of the situation,” Harley had said. “Although that is an issue, and it does bother me that we’re not taking a closer look at it.”
“It’s a little last minute for that sort of thing.”
“It’s not the point. I’m talking about the fact that we’re so divided,” Harley said. “We’ve never been divided like this before. I don’t see how we can ride out to do something as monumental as stealing from the Death Fangs without being united among ourselves, at the very least.”
“Then get on my side,” Mark had said.
Harley had looked at Jamie, as if imploring him to do so.
Jamie remained silent.
“Don’t you two see that this is dangerous?” Harley asked. He sounded as if he was begging now. “This is the Death Fangs we’re talking about. They’re the most violent pack we’ve ever come up against.”
Now, Jamie spoke for the first time. “The Death Fangs aren’t going to give us anything we can’t handle, Harley.”
“You’re insane if you think the three of us can fight off a whole pack of Death Fangs.”
“Nobody’s planning to fight them,” Mark had said, realizing, for the first time, that he and his more inscrutable younger brother might actually have common ground. “Nobody’s planning to be seen by them.”
“Of course, you’re not planning to, but if something goes wrong—”
“If something goes wrong, we’ll still be in the middle of their auction,” Mark said. “They’re not going to want to cause a scene with so many people looking on. They’ll have a few people take care of us. Probably just throw us out.”
“I don’t know about this,” Harley said, his voice rife with doubt.
“Just follow my lead,” Mark had told him.
But by the time they all got on their bikes and pulled out of the motel parking lot, they were already running fifteen minutes behind schedule. Then, they ran into traffic on the highway, where a minivan had developed a flat tire. A harassed looking mother and three young children were standing by the side of the road, and a police officer had come upon the scene and was directing traffic around the stopped car. Under ordinary circumstances, Mark might have pulled over to offer his assistance, but the traffic had caused them to lose even more time, and he thought it was likely that the auction was already getting started.
His fears were confirmed when they pulled into the lot behind the old barn where the auction was held. The folding chairs that had been set out were already full of people, and the parking area was virtually empty. Mark coasted to a stop, turned off his bike’s engine, and looked behind him to see that his brothers were doing the same.
In the distance, he could make out a group of about ten women standing on a temporary stage. He couldn’t see them well from here, but he knew from experience that they would be dressed in extremely revealing clothing. He knew that some of them would likely be crying.
Mark didn’t understand how Harley and Jamie could have thought that buying one of those women was any less a violation than outright kidnapping.
And it wasn’t as if he liked the idea, he thought sourly. Was that really what his brothers thought of him? That he didn’t give a damn for the well-being of the women at the auction? That he was no better than a common kidnapper? But any omega they took home would be miles better off with them than she would be with the Death Fangs, and probably with any other customer who might buy her, too, no matter how they acquir
ed her.
And besides, he had to think of the bloodline. He had to think about how pure and concentrated the alpha gene was in his family, after so many generations of it being passed down. Apparently, his brothers weren’t thinking about that. They would probably be perfectly happy to take anyone as a mate, Mark thought. They had no sense of the responsibility that lay on their shoulders.
Mating with a beta would dilute the bloodline.
Mating separately would dilute the bloodline.
The only way to keep their pack as strong as it was would be for all three of them to take an omega together.
Maybe Harley and Jamie didn’t understand that, Mark thought, or maybe they just didn’t care, but either way, he could see that it was going to fall on his shoulders to ensure that the strength of his pack remained uncorrupted.
Sometimes, he didn’t see how they could call themselves alphas at all.
THE THREE MEN MADE their way out of the parking lot, not toward the auction stage, but away from it, to the back of the barn. Harley followed his brothers silently, though the feeling that something was deeply wrong hadn’t yet left him. There was a fracture between the three of them. They’d never been fractured like this before.
It felt like walking around with his eyes closed.
Mark stopped, held up a fist, and peered around the corner of the barn. Then, he moved forward, waving Jamie and Harley after him.
“What are we going to do?” Harley asked.
“We’ve got to figure out how to get into the barn,” Mark said. “That’ll be where they’re keeping the girls who aren’t on stage.”
“What girls who aren’t on stage?”
“There’s no way that’s all of them,” Mark said. “Last year, they had about twenty-five.”
“It could be a small year,” Jamie said, but he didn’t sound like he really believed that.
Mark shook his head. “No. The Death Fangs are growing more productive, not less. If anything, this year’s group should be bigger than last.”
