Caught Between Shifters

by Juniper Hart

  Don’t move, their gazes seemed to say. You can’t run.

  There was nowhere to run, and Rose knew it.

  They would come for her.

  She dropped to her knees, struggling for breath as the beasts returned to their violent struggle, and she prayed to God that they would kill each other.

  A car horn blared at her back, and in slow motion, she turned her head, watching as a white Mustang flew around the back of the building, racing toward her. Just as Rose thought the car would run her over, the Mustang skidded to a stop in front of her and the passenger side door opened.

  “Get in the car!” the blond driver with rugged good looks screamed at her, lying across the passenger seat to keep the door open.

  Rose didn’t have time to consider his words.

  She flew into the vehicle as both Lycans turned to stare at them.

  Rose turned around to stare at the pile of bloodied fur as the Mustang soared away from the parking lot. The monsters disentangled themselves from each other and stared after the car, steam exuding from their mouths.

  “Buckle up,” the stranger told her. “It’s okay. They aren’t coming after us.”

  “How do you know that?” Rose cried hysterically, turning to stare at the extremely attractive man. “How do you know what they’ll do?”

  “Trust me,” he said calmly. “Just turn around and buckle up. Please. The last thing I need is for you to go flying through the windshield while we’re going eighty miles an hour. It would defeat the purpose of me getting you out of here.”

  His voice was shockingly calm, smooth like honey, and was familiar to Rose. She was certain she had heard it before, but where? The man was a complete stranger—that, she knew for sure—so it was someone she hadn’t met in person, but also someone she had heard speak before.

  Whoever he was, he had managed to ease Rose a small bit, and despite her still overwhelming terror, she found herself obeying his instructions.

  As the belt clicked, the man eyed her through his peripheral vision, his smoky eyes smoldering and pensive.

  “What were you doing back there?” he questioned.

  “He kidnapped me!” Rose choked out, remembering what had started this mess. “He dragged me back there and said he was going to do me a favor!”

  “Who did?”

  “Derek Van Gould.”

  The driver’s face grew stony, and he focused intently on the road ahead of him. “Why did he attack the other one?”

  Rose instinctively looked back again, as though the man’s questions could summon the Lycans. She was certain they were coming. She could sense them approaching.

  “They aren’t coming,” the blond man told her gently. “I promise.”

  Rose’s hands flew to the necklace she was wearing, and she began playing with it nervously.

  “How do you know?” she asked, hoping he could ease her worries. “What are those things?”

  “Werewolves,” he replied simply. “You’re not from around here?”

  She whipped her head around to look at him.

  “I’m from around here!” she cried. “And I don’t believe in those stories!”

  The driver seemed to let off the gas slightly as they drove outside the city limits of Riverton.

  “Where are you taking me?” Rose asked, her hysteria lessening but not vanishing as they fled down Route 789.

  “Somewhere safe,” the man answered. “You don’t believe in the stories, then?”

  “I didn’t believe in them,” she murmured, falling back against her seat. “Now I don’t know what to believe.”

  “You should probably trust your eyes, Ms. Bridgemont.”

  Rose tensed again, and she tried to press herself against the car door. “Who are you?” she breathed. “What were you doing there at just the right time?”

  The man chuckled humorlessly. “You’re welcome,” he said instead. “And I believe we’ve already met, though not in person. My name is Gray. Gray Pierson.”

  Shock colored Rose’s face. “What are you doing here, Mr. Pierson?”

  “I came to spend the night in Riverton to have a chat with you in the morning,” Gray told her. “I guess I won’t be using my suite at the Hampton Inn now, however.”

  Rose eyed him suspiciously. What are the chances that he just happened to be at the back of the hotel at that moment? Was he following me, too?

  “Before your mind starts going in all sorts of crazy directions, Ms. Bridgemont,” Gray began, startling Rose, “I want to assure you that I was not following you nor looking for you.”

  Can he read my mind? She stared at him in awe.

  “You just happened to be there?” she demanded, unsure of what to think. The events she had just somehow lived through had left her mentally incoherent.

  “Yes,” he replied. “And I’m glad I was. The Lycans aren’t known for leaving witnesses around.”

  Rose couldn’t begin to comprehend what was happening.

  “Who was the other man?” Gray asked, eyeing her. They drove past Hudson, going southwest, and Rose realized that they were heading into Lander.

  “Julian Morrow,” she responded. “He’s an investigator at my office.”

  “Why did Van Gould attack him?”

  Rose cocked her head to the side. “How do you know that Van Gould attacked him?” she asked. “If you just happened along at that moment?”

  Gray was silent, as if he were contemplating what he’d say next. Rose watched dubiously as a smile grew on his lips.

  “I was told that you were bright. I should have listened.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” she snapped. She was not in the mood for flattery, no matter how attractive her good Samaritan might be.

  “I was not entirely truthful with you,” he confessed, taking a left on Valley View Drive as they entered Lander city limits. “I was watching Derek Van Gould.”

  “Why?” she demanded. “What do you want with him?”

  Gray shook his head. “I can’t discuss that—especially with you, Ms. Bridgemont.”

  “It’s about the murders?” Rose insisted, watching as a row of well-kept houses appeared.

  “I really can’t talk about it,” he said. “I would if I could, trust me.”

  At the end of the street, he turned right onto Grand View and stopped before a charming bungalow house.

  “Where are we?”

  “My place,” he sighed. “It’s the safest place for you right now.”

  “I can’t stay here!” Rose cried, shaking her head. “I need to go home!”

  “Call whomever you have waiting for you and tell them you’re not coming home tonight,” Gray replied, pulling the keys from the ignition.

  “I can’t stay here!” she repeated, her eyes widening. “I—I—”

  “Don’t you think that they are going to come looking for you?” he questioned. “Where’s the first place they’re going to check?”

  Rose stared at him uncomprehendingly. “So, what?” she demanded. “I stay hidden here forever?”

  “Let’s take it minute by minute, Ms. Bridgemont,” Gray answered dryly. “Come on. I don’t bite, and I’m fairly sure I have a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge.”

  “Wait!” Rose yelled as he went to step from the car. “What about impropriety? If anyone sees us together like this…”

  Gray furrowed his brows at her. “Are you sincerely considering keeping Chase Van Gould as a client after seeing what you saw tonight?”

  It was a valid question.

  “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get you hidden before anyone sees us.”

  Rose didn’t appreciate his mocking tone, but she reluctantly followed him up the stone pathway toward his front door.

  “Do you have a wife? What are you going to tell her about me?” Rose muttered, her heart fluttering as she tried to make sense of the mess she was facing.

  “Lucy is the only girl in my life and she will understand.”

&n
bsp; He opened the door just as a figure from out of the dark flew toward them. Rose screamed, raising her arms to block her face.

  “It’s okay!” Gray yelled. “It’s okay! It’s only the dog! Down, girl, down!”

  Gray flipped on a light in the hallway, illuminating the foyer, and a black Labrador immediately backed up and sat on her hind legs.

  Rose had pressed herself up against the wall and was trembling violently while the canine cocked her sleek head to one side and peered curiously at Rose.

  “See? Just the dog,” he said calmly, extending his hand toward her.

  She nodded slowly and accepted his palm, eyeing the animal.

  “You don’t like dogs?” Gray asked, and Rose shook her head.

  “I used to like dogs just fine,” she mumbled. After tonight’s events, though, not so much.

  Gray gently pulled her forward, and the dog wagged her tail happily, trailing after them as they made their way into the rear of the house.

  It was artfully decorated, but not cramped, and Rose found herself admiring the details put into making it a home.

  “Lucy has good taste,” she heard herself saying.

  “You think?” Gray replied, turning his head to glance over his shoulder as they entered the pristine kitchen. Rose thought she caught a hint of laughter in his voice, but she was far too keyed up to pursue it.

  He gestured at a chair at the four-seater glass and wrought iron table. Rose collapsed gratefully onto one of the white cushions, suddenly feeling completely depleted of all energy.

  “How about I get us that drink?” Gray suggested, turning for the stainless-steel fridge. “You’re okay with Pinot Grigio? I probably have some merlot kicking around here, too.”

  Rose didn’t want to tell him that she needed something stronger, like a Xanax. “Pinot Grigio is fine,” she replied quickly. “Thank you.”

  He poured the glasses and handed one to her, which she drank immediately.

  “I guess proposing a toast is weird, huh?” Gray asked as he raised his glass to his perfect lips.

  “To what would you toast?” Rose wondered. “The fact that I represent a man who likely killed two women and whose father is some sort of mythical beast?”

  “That’s a toast I’ve never done,” Gray cracked. “But I was thinking more like, ‘to close encounters… and new friends.’ Or is that too cheesy?”

  Rose put the glass to her lips again and studied him over the rim, her mind whirling.

  How is he staying so calm? Has he been up against these creatures before? It seems so. He knows an awful lot about them.

  “That’s lovely,” she replied dully.

  Gray sighed and sat across from her. Immediately, the dog came to lay her ebony jaw on his legs.

  “Everything is going to be okay,” he assured Rose. “We will just have to formulate a plan. Just trust me.”

  “We?” she repeated.

  “Of course, we. You’re in my house, after all. If not me and you, then you and who?”

  The question sent a stab of regret through Rose’s heart. There is no one. I’m completely alone except for this stranger who has gotten mixed up in this accidentally. I can’t expect him to put himself in danger for me.

  Gray watched her with warm, sooty eyes, and Rose was unexpectedly taken by his magnetism. His dark blond hair fell in swooping waves over his face and a five o’clock shadow seemed to darken his golden boy appearance.

  Rose’s heart fluttered slightly as she watched him.

  “I don’t even know you,” she mumbled, shifting her eyes toward the table.

  If he can read your mind, you don’t want him reading those thoughts, she told herself, her face heating at the ideas going through her mind.

  “We can change that,” Gray told her softly.

  Rose felt her skin prickle with pleasure. She shook her head. “No,” she replied with little conviction. “You’ve done enough. I should go.”

  She rose from the table, her thoughts unfocussed. Where will I go? Gray is right; they will come looking for me. Should I call Dad and Paula? It seemed logical that the Lycans would eventually look there for her.

  And then I will be putting them in danger, Rose realized. I could rent a hotel room… but I would have to give my name. And what if there are more of them out there looking for me? The legends say they run in packs. I could be on everyone’s hit list! Who can I trust? And how would I even know if I can trust them?

  The panic must have been clear on her face, because suddenly Gray was at her side, embracing her. “Please don’t go,” he whispered. “Let us figure this out together.”

  Again, Rose shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

  “No,” she told him. “No, I can’t do that to you… and Lucy.”

  “Lucy doesn’t mind,” Gray told her. “Do you, Lucy?”

  The dog let out a sharp bark, jarring Rose.

  “See?” Gray laughed. “She’s happy you’re here, too.”

  Rose gnawed on her lower lip and stared up at him imploringly, desperately wanting to believe that he could save her from the danger she was in.

  She finally bobbed her head in assent.

  “Okay,” she breathed. “Thank you. I will stay.”

  To her surprise, Gray hugged her more tightly, bringing her deeper into his embrace.

  Rose inhaled the masculine scent of him through his shirt, her heart beginning to pound for an entirely different reason.

  God, I hope I haven’t made a mistake by agreeing to stay here, she thought. If anything happens to him, I will never forgive myself.

  Chapter Eight

  It had taken two bottles of wine, but Rose eventually succumbed to a fitful sleep in the spare bedroom at the end of the hall, leaving Gray alone to his thoughts.

  What are you doing? He asked himself, pacing around the room. There will be hell to pay for this.

  What he had told Rose was true: he had been watching Derek Van Gould, and had been for a long while. The businessman was a snake oil salesman, a scoundrel who had only missed being prosecuted time and again by sheer luck and inept DAs.

  Derek was a pillar of Riverton and he liked everyone to know it. He liked to believe that he was in charge.

  When Chase Van Gould had been charged with the murder of Suki Makanora, Gray had been certain that Derek had something to do with helping his son.

  He had sat with Patricia Belham to discuss their strategy and the darker aspects of the case.

  “You don’t think that this has anything to do with… the other stuff, do you, Gray?” Tricia had asked late one night when everyone else had gone home.

  Gray had sat back in his chair. “I doubt it,” he had told her.

  “Gray, this whole werewolf and underworld stuff is so…” Tricia had moaned. “I mean, thank God it has never been proven because showing that to a jury… can you imagine the reactions? This is a prosecutor’s worst nightmare.”

  “Forget about any of the other stuff, Trish,” he had insisted. “Focus on facts. The other supposed werewolf murders didn’t look like this. Usually, we don’t even find the bodies. Typically, werewolves are much better at covering their tracks.”

  “Why do you know so much about them?” Tricia had asked.

  “I’ve lived here my entire life,” had been Gray’s simple answer. “I’ve heard the stories and seen the obvious, stuff that others in Freemont county want to brush under the rug. I’ve investigated.”

  Gray knew a lot about the Lycans, and he always offered to take on the gruesome murder cases where werewolves were likely suspects. He was the unofficial expert on the subject, after all.

  His thoughts returned to the present moment.

  He wondered what other options he had. There was no doubt in his mind that Derek Van Gould would have killed the beautiful redhead if Gray hadn’t intercepted her. He had no concrete proof that the real estate genius had done anything to his co-worker, but his gut spoke very strongly to him.

  And his gu
t was rarely wrong.

  Take Rose Bridgemont, he thought wryly. I knew there was something special about her from the first moment I laid eyes on her.

  Even from the time he had heard her voice, she had sparked something primitive and deep inside him, something he had never known.

  He wasn’t sure if it was her inherently strong nature or her surreal beauty, but Rose had stirred a passion in him he hadn’t felt in longer than he could remember.

  I shouldn’t have brought her here. This is not going to end well.

  A scream sounded from down the hall.

  Like a flash, Gray threw the door to his room open and busted inside the guest quarters, where Rose sat on the bed, the sheet pulled fully up to her body. She pointed into the shadows, her grass-colored eyes terrified.

  “There! There!” she shrieked.

  Gray didn’t need to turn. He knew no one was there.

  “No,” he murmured, shaking his head and slipping onto the bed at her side. “No one is there. You had a nightmare.”

  “No!” she insisted. “I saw them! Both of them! I saw them there!”

  Instinctively, Gray drew her into his arms, murmuring softly into her hair. Reluctantly, she began to ease in his embrace, but as her heartrate decreased, his seemed to accelerate.

  “Oh my god,” Rose moaned. “What abyss do I have to claw my way out of?”

  “You’re not alone,” he assured her, pulling back slightly to look at her, cocking his head to the side. He brushed a stray strand of dark red hair from her forehead.

  “This is insanity,” she breathed, their gazes locking.

  Gray didn’t think she was talking about the situation anymore.

  As if they were magnetically drawn together, their lips met.

  What are you doing? A voice cried inside him, but he silenced it instantly, laying them both down gently so they were side by side, their mouths exploring each other’s.

  Their glances remained fixed together, and Gray’s hand touched her face, wanting to relish every second they shared.

  Rose pulled back to stare into his face. “What are we doing?” she whispered.

  “Protecting one another.”

  It was the answer she needed, and she crushed her lips back to his, her arms twining around his broad back, pulling him close. She wore only a thin t-shirt from Gray’s collection, and he could feel every contour of her firm, slender form.