“So where do we find Brian and the rest of his pack?” That was the question Hank wanted answered. He wanted to start hunting. The sooner the threat to Chrissten was removed the easier he’d rest.
“I have several names and addresses I plucked from Dr. Morton’s brain. He reached into his pocket, drew out a piece of paper and handed it to Craig. “You could check them out first. See if they are rentals or owned property. If they’re owned, you might be able to track down other properties they have.”
Craig surged to his feet, paper held tight in his hand. “I’m on it.” He disappeared down the hall and into the office. Seconds later they could all hear the tapping of computer keys as Craig began his search.
“What about the bastard who experimented on my sister?” Hank was glad Quinn voiced the question he wanted answered.
Damek smiled, but there wasn’t anything pleasant about it. Hank’s wolf began to whimper inside him. “The poor man. His brain exploded. Too much knowledge can be a dangerous thing. I was tempted to leave his body where it dropped but decided the authorities didn’t need to find a decaying body at some point in the future. I took care of it.”
None of them asked what he’d done to the body. None of them cared. Dr. Phillip Morton was no longer a problem.
Damek whirled around and headed for the door. “I will take care of the military problem. You handle the wolves. And see if you can manage it on your own. I do have various business interests to run.” With that final insult, he was gone, lost in the shadows.
“Bastard,” Isaiah muttered.
Meredith laughed. “You know you like him.”
Her husband’s eyes lightened as they landed on her. “I’m not admitting anything.”
Hank had a lot to think about. “I’m heading up. I’ll sleep on the floor and keep watch.”
“You’ll come get me if she wakes up.” Quinn’s command raised his hackles, but Hank managed to shove his nasty retort back. This was Chrissten’s brother, her twin.
“Will do. Let me know if Craig finds anything useful.” He wanted to know the second they had a possible location for Brian and his pack of rogues.
Quinn nodded. “It will soon be time to go hunting.”
Hank knew they’d need all of them to defeat a pack of six pureblooded werewolves. But they’d do it. There was no other choice.
He took the stairs two at a time, eager to get back to Chrissten. The apartment was dark and quiet. He could smell the two women in the bedroom, hear their even breathing. He crept as quietly as he could into the room. Bethany was sitting next to the bed in a straight-backed wooden chair. It was from the kitchen set. Quinn must have dragged it into the room for her. Bethany didn’t look comfortable.
Her hand was entwined with Chrissten. It occurred to him that Bethany was the only one of them who could really understand what Chrissten had gone through. She might have only been held captive a fraction of the time but the fears were the same.
He touched Bethany lightly on the arm and she jerked away. Terror filled her eyes for a brief second before clearing away. Anger filled Hank. No woman should have to live with such fear.
There was no hint of the fury he was feeling when he whispered to her. “Why don’t you go rest? Quinn can fill you in on everything. I’ll watch over her tonight.”
Bethany rose from the chair and stretched. She put her hands on her back and moaned. “That’s not a comfortable chair.”
“I’ll move one in from another apartment in the morning.” Bethany, Meredith and Neema would all be taking turns sitting with Chrissten. They needed to be comfortable. He should have thought of that and taken care of it. He didn’t have much furniture, didn’t need it, but the women needed more comfortable accommodations.
“It’s okay. I managed. A little discomfort is nothing.”
He supposed it wasn’t, not compared to what she and Chrissten had been through. Bethany touched Chrissten’s hair lightly. The other woman didn’t move.
“She’ll get better. In time.” Hank didn’t know who Bethany was trying to convince, him or herself. She dropped her hand back by her side. “You’ll come get me if she wakes.”
“I’ll call you,” he promised. “But I won’t leave her alone.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “You think she’s in danger here. That Brian will try to get her.”
He didn’t want to frighten her, but Bethany needed to know the truth. “If she was mine I wouldn’t stop until I found her.”
Bethany stilled and studied him for what seemed to be an eternity but was probably only a few seconds. “You’re right.” She went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Take good care of her.”
“I will.” That was an easy promise to make. He’d kill anyone who tried to harm Chrissten.
When they were alone, he pushed aside the chair and settled into a sitting position on the floor beside the bed. His jeans were old and comfortable. His long-sleeved shirt was soft and warm. He kept his sneakers on in case he had to move in a hurry.
He reached out and touched her arm where it had pushed out over the blankets. The mottled bruises were an abomination. But with rest and good food she’d start to heal more quickly. She and her wolf would grow stronger and help one another.
“I’m here. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.” He lowered his head to the mattress beside her, closed his eyes and slept, secure in the knowledge he’d wake if anyone neared the room.
Darkness surrounded Chrissten. She was safe here. No one could hurt her. She floated along. Content. She didn’t know where she was and didn’t care. Nothing could touch her here.
She felt something brush against her arm. It wasn’t much, but it made her frown. Was someone else here?
Panic threatened to overwhelm her.
She had to run. Had to get away. There were bad things out there. Someone wanted to hurt her. She fought to open her eyes but couldn’t lift the heavy lids.
“I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.” She heard the words, but it took her a few minutes to understand them. She took a breath and her nostrils were filled with him—soap and sandalwood and a hint of musk. She took another breath, pulling it deep into her lungs. She knew this male.
She struggled to put a face with the smell but couldn’t.
No matter, she trusted him. He’d come and found her when she’d been lost. Her brother had been there too. Or at least she thought he was.
Thinking was too hard. Her memories jumbled.
She didn’t hurt and she was warm and safe. That was all that mattered. He was with her and she trusted him to keep his promise.
Darkness closed around her again and she welcomed it with open arms.
The shadows concealed Damek as he waited patiently for the group to disperse. He hadn’t left, as they’d assumed, but merely melded with the darkness. Waiting. He sighed with pleasure when the last light was turned out and only the security lamps remained on. He did so love the darkness.
The light tapping of fingers on a keyboard drew him down the hallway to the office where Craig sat working. The human’s fatigue pulled at his fragile body, but he fought it. Damek admired Craig Lawton’s sense of loyalty and family. It was a rare and valuable trait.
Craig sat back in the desk chair and grabbed a sheaf of papers he’d already printed. Damek stepped out of the shadows. For some unknown reason, he wanted to talk with the younger man. “Have you found anything?”
Craig startled and the paper he was reading jerked in his hands, dragging the sharp edge over one of his fingers. “Damn.” Blood welled on the human’s finger. Hunger surged to life within Damek as he stared at the crimson drop.
“I thought you’d gone.” Craig’s heartbeat jumped and, for the first time, Damek felt a frisson of fear from the human. It saddened him even though it was to be expected.
Damek reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a crisp, white square of linen. The human simply stared at it.
“Go on,” he offered. “
It’s clean.”
Damek read the younger man’s embarrassment as he took the handkerchief and wrapped it around the tiny cut. When it was no longer visible, Damek relaxed slightly, although the sweet lure of blood still lingered in the air.
“Thanks.”
Damek inclined his head. “You’re very welcome. No need to worry about the blood. I’m not that kind of vampire. I only eat when invited.” He didn’t know why he couldn’t resist the little barb. Perhaps it was because Craig had been so easily accepting of him and he felt slighted by the assumption he’d jump on him at the first sight of blood.
Of course, the human was right to fear him. He was a vampire, after all. But it still hurt him in a way he hadn’t thought he could still be hurt. It was disconcerting to say the least.
Craig laughed. “Sorry about that. I’m just tired.” He raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “If you need to eat or feed or whatever you call it, all you have to do is ask.”
Damek was struck dumb by the offer. It was made easily and without reservations. As a vampire, he could feel all Craig’s emotions and there was no coercion, no sense of fear, only pure, sincere generosity.
“I’m humbled by your offer, but I’m perfectly fine. I tend to use blood banks in these modern times.” Blood was much easier to come by these days, especially since he owned a private blood bank. But it was cold and almost lifeless when he drank it and lacked the power of fresh, warm blood.
Craig removed the hanky from his finger and inspected the cut. It had already stopped bleeding. “That makes sense, but the offer is there if you ever need it.”
“Why?” Damek truly wanted to know, wanted to understand why this human would give something so precious so freely.
“Because you’ve done everything you can to help my family and you’ve asked for nothing in return.”
Although it should have been impossible, Damek felt his face getting warm. Damned if he’d blush like some fledgling. He was a vampire, damn it. Lord of the night. Feared by one and all.
Except, it seemed, by this particular human.
Damek inclined his head in acknowledgement. The dawn was coming. He could feel it in his bones. Time was short. “If you ever need anything from me, call the number on the card I gave you. Day or night, it is no matter.”
“You can move around in the daytime?” Damek heard the curiosity in Craig’s question but wasn’t about to answer. His secrets were his own. Keeping them had allowed him to stay alive for hundreds and hundreds of years.
“Day or night,” he reiterated. With that, he faded back into the shadows and disappeared. He left the club behind him, making sure the door was locked. As he hurried through the city streets toward his home, he could feel the dawn snapping at his heels.
Chapter Four
Chrissten came awake suddenly, her heart racing. She’d been dreaming. Or at least she thought it was a dream. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing as even as she could, not wanting to alert whoever was in the room with her that she was awake.
And there was someone there. She could sense him.
She caught a whiff of his scent and her entire body unclenched and relaxed. It was her mystery male. Whoever he was. She had no idea about his identity. She only knew his smell made her feel safe. As if he surrounded her in an invisible net of comfort.
She shifted her head slightly on the pillow and his scent deepened. Strange. She sniffed again and realized it was coming not only from the room but also from the pillow. Was she in his bed?
It didn’t matter where she was because she was free. Free from her prison. It was almost unbelievable after so long, after losing hope of rescue. She allowed the pure luxury of simply being in a soft, warm bed with clean sheets to wash over her.
But she wasn’t safe. Not really. Not with Brian running around out there somewhere in the city. She shivered beneath the blankets. She wouldn’t be truly free until he was dead.
A movement on the opposite side of the bed made her flinch in spite of her best efforts to remain still.
“You’re okay. Everything is okay.” His deep, sleep-roughened voice sank into her bones, settling into every cell of her body. The blanket was pulled higher around her. “Are you cold? I can get you another blanket.” Without giving her time to answer, he moved away from the bed and went to the closet. A moment later, he returned, shook out a blanket and spread it over the pile already on top of her.
She was cold, which wasn’t normal. Her metabolism was fast and her body temperature was usually slightly higher than a human’s. But a chill permeated her entire being.
It was difficult to focus, but she forced herself to do so. “Who…who are you?” She licked her dry lips. She was so very thirsty. She looked around and saw a glass on the nightstand and struggled to sit up.
“I’m Hank. Hank Brewer.” He helped her sit up, propping her back against the headboard, arranging the pillows until she was comfortable. When she was settled, he lifted a glass of orange juice to her lips. “Here, sip this slowly.”
Grateful, she tilted her head slightly and drank. She was parched and soaked up the slightly warm liquid. Some of it spilled down her chin, but he was right there, wiping it away.
“Easy.” He pulled the glass away. “Give yourself a minute. You don’t want to drink too much too fast. Might make you sick.”
She nodded and took a minute to really look at him. Hank. She liked his name. It was strong, like him. Up until now she’d been so focused on his scent she’d paid little attention to his appearance.
He sank down onto the bed beside her, making the mattress dip with his weight. Chrissten studied his face. His eyes were the palest blue she’d ever seen and were fringed with thick eyelashes. His brows were straight and dark in contrast to his hair. It was short and blond. Real short. Almost military short. His nose was large and straight. His lips firm and full. His chin square.
This was one tough male.
His shoulders were so wide he blocked out the rest of the room from her line of sight. His biceps swelled beneath the cotton of his long-sleeved shirt, hinting at his strength.
Her heart skipped a beat and picked up its pace. She wanted to curl her body around him, using his heat to warm her.
Which was totally nuts. She’d just met him. Hadn’t she?
She licked her lips again, thankful they weren’t as dry as they’d been. “You were there, weren’t you?” Even as she asked, she knew the answer to her question. He’d been there.
“Yeah. I was part of the team that extracted you.”
“Team?” It sounded like a military operation, but she knew it wasn’t. Her brothers had both been there.
“The pack.” Hank placed his hand on her upper arm. She flinched and he immediately removed it. He started to stand, but she didn’t want him to leave her.
“Stay.”
“You sure?” His laser gaze studied her. She knew if she asked him to leave he would. That released some of the irrational fear surrounding her. She owed him some sort of explanation.
She nodded. “It’s just when you touched me…” She couldn’t continue. She didn’t want to remember how Brian had touched her whenever he wanted. She started rubbing her arms, frantic to remove Brian’s touch. The covers fell to her waist.
She could still smell him under her skin. She’d never be free of him.
Strong hands captured hers and her eyes flew upward. Not Brian. Hank. This was Hank. Panic slowly began to recede.
“I’m sorry.” God, she was a basket case.
“Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for.” His tone was fierce but gentle. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. You still have a long way to go before you’re fully healed.”
She looked down at her arms, seeing them for the first time. Mottled bruises in various shades of blue, black, brown and purple ranged up and down her skin. Now that she was looking at them they began to throb. She pulled her hands from his and tugged the covers
over her, ashamed for them to show.
Hank got up from the bed and walked to a closet. He withdrew a long-sleeved denim shirt and came back to the bed, driving home the fact she was in his room, in his bed, resting on his pillow. It felt very intimate, but not frightening.
“Here. You can wear this.” He knew. He knew how much the bruises bothered her. She peered deep into his eyes and saw no pity, only understanding. Slowly, she released her death grip on the blankets and let them fall to her waist.
Chrissten raised her left arm and flinched. She was sore and stiffer than she’d thought.
“Let me.” Hank didn’t give her time to turn down his offer. Swiftly and with no wasted movements, he put the shirt on her. The sleeves were too long, even for her. She was a tall woman, almost six feet, and wasn’t used to having clothing too big on her. He rolled up the cuffs on both sleeves several times. When he was satisfied, he sat back. “Better?”
It was better. Not only was the shirt warm, but it smelled like him too. And it covered her bruises. She nodded. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, making him appear even more handsome.
Her line of thinking startled her. She was in no position to find any man handsome. Her life was a mess and it wasn’t going to get any better for a long time, if ever.
“I’m going to kill him.” There was no denying the menace in that threat, but strangely she didn’t feel the least bit intimidated. She should be screaming for her brother, not wanting to snuggle with the guy.
“Who?” Deep in her heart she knew who he meant, but she wanted to hear him say it.
“Brian.” The word came out more as a growl and she could barely understand him.
Shame washed over her. They all knew. Brian was her biological mate. She pulled the edges of the shirt around her, knowing the sense of safety and comfort was false but needing it anyway.
Finding Chrissten l(-5 Page 4
