“I hope you’re enjoying the view.”
Denise sputtered, too incensed to admit she was awkwardly bobbing up and down over what was undoubtedly the finest rear end on God’s green earth.
Yogi kept her balanced on his shoulder when he stooped to pick up his discarded clothes, his arms like steel bands. Soon, they were back at the Jeep. Her captor put her down, but he kept one hand on her wrist, a hold she couldn’t break, while he tugged on his pants. He shoved her into the backseat, corralling Oliver at the same time.
“Damn it, kid, go easy on the leather,” he muttered, picking the pup up and dumping him in her lap.
Denise was distracted by the move, giving Yogi the opportunity he needed to tie one of her wrists to the pipe frame cage of the Jeep.
Furious, she tugged at the zip tie, but only succeeded in hurting herself. “Don’t manhandle Oliver like that.” she gritted out between her teeth.
Yogi scoffed. “Trust me, that was nothing to one of our kind.”
“But he’s just a baby.”
“No, he’s a Were cub. We grow up climbing all over each other and fighting—even with our friends. Trust me, Oliver is fine.”
Yogi climbed into the driver seat and started the engine. They were back on the highway in a matter of minutes.
As the adrenaline wore off, Denise’s anger began to chill. Feeling queasy, she shivered as her head started to pound.
Absently stroking Oliver’s fur, she decided to pull the last trick she had out of her bag. “Look, I’m prepared to make you an offer.”
Yogi glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “No offense, but I can get a piece of ass whenever I want. Granted, it’s been a while, and most of those assess have not been as fine as yours, but I’m going to have to pass.”
Her mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what was more shocking—that he thought she was offering to sleep with him, or that he found her ass fine.
“I was offering you money, not sex.”
“Oh.” He paused. “Well, I’m still going to have to say no.”
The pounding in her head was starting to get worse. “Don’t say that until I tell you how much I’m willing to pay.”
“Sorry, doll. There isn’t enough money in the world.”
“One hundred thousand in cash.”
The car swerved slightly. Yogi coughed. “And just where would you get that kind of money?” he asked, glancing back at her.
“My trust fund.”
Yogi snorted.
“Two hundred thousand.”
“Look—”
“Three,” she said, her voice cracking.
Up front, Yogi sighed. “Denise, it’s not up to me. As children, we take an oath to do whatever we can to maintain the secret of our existence. Oliver’s still too young, but when he’s old enough to understand, he’ll make the same promise.”
Her lip trembled. “That makes it okay to drag me to your people so they can kill me?”
Yogi scoffed. “Lady, nobody’s going to kill you. You’re just going to be their guest for a while…”
A little knot deep in her belly began to loosen, but only slightly. “For how long?”
He was quiet a little too long.
“C’mon, tell me. I deserve the truth.”
His massive shoulders rolled. “Until they know they can trust you.”
She did not like the sound of that. “How long is that going to take?”
“I imagine that will be up to you.”
Denise frowned. Some of her tension dissipated, but her headache lingered.
Shit. She didn’t have her medication. She’d driven thirty or so miles out of her way to fill the prescription before her heist, but the pharmacy hadn’t carried her meds. They’d had to order it. She was supposed to pick it up yesterday. With the recent insanity, she’d forgotten.
The headache was the least of her problems…
“Why do you keep saying they like that?” she asked. “Aren’t you part of they?”
His deep inhalation was not comforting. “I’m just dropping you and the kid off. I’ll need to check in with the chief and my brother and sister, but after that, I won’t be sticking around.”
The knot of tension behind her temples tightened a notch. Why was the fact he wasn’t going to be there so unnerving? If she could get out of this car, she’d be happy to never see Yogi or his glorious ass again.
“And where are you going to be?”
He shrugged. “I have things to do.”
Yogi was going to take her to werewolf country and just dump her there?
Denise was going to be prisoner for God only knew how long—provided he was telling the truth—and this guy wasn’t even going to be one her jailers.
She wanted to question him further, but the pounding in her head was starting to get worse. Nauseated, she focused on breathing in and out, closing her eyes against the weak sunlight.
In her lap, Oliver squirmed and whined, adjusting until her hand was positioned on top of his head. She patted him, wondering if he could sense her pain. Dogs were often sensitive that way. Perhaps wolf cubs were too?
The Jeep hit a rut in the road, making her grit her teeth, a move she immediately regretted because it made the migraine pain flare.
The cub licked her hand in a clear show of sympathy.
Sensitivity must be something werewolves outgrow, she thought, opening her eyes a crack to glare at the back of Yogi’s head. He continued to drive, ignoring her and Oliver.
Whether Yogi was going to be with her didn’t matter. There were too many unknowns waiting for her at the end of this little road trip.
Denise was going to get the hell out of this car even if it killed her—just as soon as her head stopped trying to do it for her.
Chapter 9
Yogi glanced in the rearview mirror again. Denise had closed her eyes a while ago, but the way she was slumped over didn’t indicate sleep.
Her mouth was tight. Every few minutes, she flinched as the car went over a stone or a pothole.
“It’s not going to work,” he warned, wishing she would sit up and open her eyes.
As much as he wanted to believe his captive was faking, he was starting to suspect there was something wrong. Denise was too much of a softie to ignore a pup. But she wasn’t petting him or cuddling Oliver anymore, despite his repeated whines.
“Denise.”
She didn’t move.
“Denise.”
Her lids cracked, but her gaze was bleary and unfocused.
“Are you okay?”
Denise hung her head and closed her eyes again. He swore and looked at the road ahead. Noting a sign for a rest stop ahead, he drove until he could get off the exit. After pulling the Jeep into an isolated corner of the lot, he got out.
Cautiously, he stepped around and opened the car door, making sure to stay out of range of any kicking feet. She could only play that card with him once. This time, he was ready for her tricks…except no little foot came flying at his face.
He reached in to put his hand on Denise’s cheek. No fever.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, giving her a little shake.
Denise’s face immediately crumpled. She leaned over to one side and heaved, splattering vomit on the edge of the doorframe.
“Shit.” After cutting the zip ties, Yogi unbuckled her, pulling her out of the car and laying her on the grass underneath a tree. The pup followed, pacing in front of Denise in a nervous circle.
Yogi cleaned her up with a crumbled paper napkin he found in his pocket. “It’s going to be okay,” he assured them, but he didn’t know who he was kidding.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Denise mumbled something. He leaned down to catch her words, but she wasn’t coherent enough for him to make them out.
“Are you sick?”
Nothing about her smelled of illness—aside from the vomit. But there was no hint of anything seriously wrong. His kind could pick up diabetes a
nd even trace amounts of cancer, but whatever this was, it had no scent signature. All he could tell was that she was in pain.
“Migraine,” she whispered.
Yogi relaxed. “Is that all?”
A micro-expression of annoyance tightened Denise’s eyes, but even that seemed to hurt her. She covered them with her hand and groaned.
“I didn’t mean it like that. But it’s just a headache. A bad one, sure, but you’ll be fine soon.”
“Die a horrible bloody death,” she whispered.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t as comforting to her as it was to him. Werewolves didn’t get headaches. Not unless they’d been bashed in the skull with something, which was more common than one would think. But he was genuinely relieved there was nothing serious wrong. Although…
“Fuck.” They couldn’t continue driving. Not if every pothole hurt her. And spontaneous vomiting probably meant the pain was intense.
Yogi exhaled and rocked on his heels, accepting the inevitable delay. They would have to find a hotel or cabin somewhere off the beaten track and wait until she got better. And he would have to find a pharmacy or something. Denise needed drugs.
The sooner he got her back on her feet, the sooner he could wash his hands of her and the kid.
“No offense,” he muttered as he picked up his limp captive. But this was already more human interaction than he’d signed up for.
Undoing the car seat with one hand, he threw it in the back. He laid Denise across the length of the backseat, taking care not to jostle her head too much. Oliver jumped inside and onto her stomach.
“Sorry, kid, but you should stay off for now. She’s not feeling well.” He set Oliver on the floor and closed the door.
Yogi leaned on the hood and texted a few pack members, including the chief, to update them and ask for a place to stay. A few minutes later, he had the address of a no-name boarding house that was currently closed for the season. One of the pack’s members was an investor, so he knew where the key was hidden.
It was a short drive away. Within fifteen minutes, he was at the apex of a circular drive in front of a sprawling Victorian.
Yogi studied the classic dormer windows of the old house, surprised to find such a structure plunked in the middle of the woods. The brief text forwarded by his pack mate hadn’t given any details beyond the address and location of the key, but he imagined this house had an interesting history.
Leaving Denise to rest, he explored the Victorian with Oliver at his side. The dust in the living room wasn’t terrible, but it was enough to make him and the cub sneeze. Luckily, the bedrooms off the central living room were in much better shape.
The house needed a little work, but it had good bones. Despite the fussiness of the gingerbread molding, Yogi really liked the old pile. It looked like a friendlier version of the Psycho house. He’d fantasized about living in it as a child—minus Anthony Perkins, of course.
After changing the linens, he dropped a glowering, but silent Denise on top of the big California king in the master. Feeling guilty, he zip-tied her unresisting arms to the headboard.
“I’m going to go get some food and something for your head,’ he said, motioning Oliver onto the bed so the cub could watch over Denise.
“Get bent,” she rasped.
“Yeah…that’s fair.”
He patted Oliver. “Keep an eye on her. I’ll be back soon.”
Chapter 10
Lifting the opiates had been way too easy. The mostly empty grocery store had an attached pharmacy with one young and overworked pharmacist and an obviously fake security camera. In what Yogi considered his only lucky break so far, the pharmacist happened to be single and interested. It had been simple to convince her to leave her post to go find him something from the front of the store.
He managed to get behind the counter and grab the bottle of pills in less than a minute.
Yogi didn’t know the names of specific migraine medications, so he stuck with the ones he’d seen mentioned on television. He shook a small number into his pocket and was back on the other side of the counter with seconds to spare.
After picking out more provisions, he drove back to the boarding house just above the speed limit. Though it had been necessary, he felt crappy over leaving Denise alone for so long.
Alone and tied up.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen his stiff neck muscles. Just get back and give her the pills. Once she’s able to walk again, take her to the Averys.
The tightening in his throat was telling. He really didn’t like the idea of leaving her with Jessup. While he knew the Avery patriarch wasn’t the villainous bastard his father had always portrayed him to be, that didn’t mean he could be trusted to treat a prisoner right.
Guest. She’ll be a guest.
Damn. Even he didn’t believe that.
I need to talk to Douglas.
Yogi wouldn’t take Denise to Colorado until the chief himself assured her safety and comfort. That last was becoming increasingly important to him. And why wasn’t exactly a mystery.
What wolf could resist a hellion with curves that didn’t quit?
What he needed was to get away from Denise as quickly as possible. Instead, he was hurrying back like his pants were on fire. Maybe the chief could have someone else come pick up his charges now that he’d secured them?
Except Yogi wouldn’t even suggest it. Douglas Maitland had stood by him and his siblings through their recent trouble. Yogi owed him his loyalty. This one favor wasn’t too much to ask, even if it was taxing his control.
Ahead, the trees began to thin as the road widened around the boarding house. He parked the car and narrowed his eyes. Outwardly, there was nothing wrong, but his instincts were prodding him. Denise was loose, and Oliver was with her. He knew it in his bones.
Yogi swore when he finally found the dynamic duo in the woods behind the Victorian. Denise had somehow managed to get the zips off again, but she hadn’t been feigning her illness. Incapable of walking, she had apparently stumbled and crawled out the back door, her furry accomplice at her side.
Picking her up without a word, he dusted off her clothes and carried her to the bedroom.
“I hope you learned your lesson,” he scolded Oliver, who was trotting at his heels. “She wasn’t ready for prison break part two.”
The pup hung his head and whined.
“Don’t yell at him,” Denise muttered.
He frowned at her, taking a pill out of his pocket and placing it in her hand. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t yelling. Here. This should help.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart,” she rasped. “What is it?”
“Something you can’t get without a prescription. Are you going to take it or not?”
Denise grimaced, but took the pill anyway. He fished a bottle of water out of a bag and put it to her lips.
“There you go,” he said after she swallowed. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You can have something to eat after you wake up.”
Her hot glare would have been intimidating if her eyes weren’t glazed over in pain. In a few minutes, she began to relax as the medication began to take effect.
“You’re starting to look stoned,” he observed approvingly.
“Not going to tie me up this time?” she asked.
“No need. I’d catch you before you hit the door.”
He smiled when she flipped him off. She’s feeling better.
“C’mon, you,” he said, herding Oliver to the door. “You’re hanging with me from now on, you little traitor.”
Oliver whined.
“Don’t think I don’t know who cut those zip ties,” he told him. “I can see your teeth marks.”
The cub yipped.
“Excuses, excuses,” Yogi chided, closing the door so his “guest” could get some sleep.
Chapter 11
Denise Hammond wasn’t rich. She was filthy rich.
Curious to see if Denise had the means to bribe him,
Yogi had gone through her belongings. He had found an old Virginia ID among several high-end fake ones, figuring that one had her real last name. And he’d been right.
The pack’s resident IT wolf, a female named Jania, had done a thorough background check. She’d dug up an article with a picture of a much younger Denise and her parents—a notice that described how the prominent couple had died.
Denise had only been sixteen.
The Hammonds had left their substantial old-money fortune to their only child. Denise had no other close relatives. Rather than going into the rich people equivalent of foster care, she had elected to spend the last few years before her majority in boarding school. There was no mention of her in the press after that.
Yogi didn’t know which was worse, knowing Denise was a multi-millionaire or that she was alone in the world. Aside from the unimpressive boyfriend—the one who had just texted her about arriving safely in Africa.
He hadn’t liked doing it, but it had been necessary to reply as Denise—a brief and impersonal message wishing him a good trip. He had no idea why this Max character was halfway across the world, but he was obviously a terrible boyfriend. Look at what had happened to her since he’d left town—she’d gotten kidnapped.
Ignoring the fact he was the kidnapper in question, he went to season the steaks and marinate the eggplant he’d sliced up for Denise. Afterward, he let Oliver out in the backyard to stretch his legs while he had a beer on the wrap-around porch.
He liked that detail. It reminded him of the porch around the chief’s place in Colorado. This house didn’t have the same hum of activity, but it was more relaxing without it. There was even a stream burbling just a stone’s throw away.
Yogi pivoted at the telltale click coming from the hallway, frowning. Not again. He crossed his arms, debating going to investigate.
This time, the slight scratching sound was much closer. Denise had made it down the hall.
Maybe I should have tied her to the bed again. She wasn’t going to feel any better if she didn’t get some sleep.
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