Gut Deep: Torn Worlds Book One

by Augustine, Donna

  She was wearing the pajamas that Bigs must’ve picked up for her, a camisole top and bottom made from peach silk that accentuated as much as it hid. She had her hair down, the wild locks flowing all around her. If she had any idea how badly I wanted to claim her right now, she would’ve gone running from the room.

  Or would she? I’d been the one to stop us from fucking that night I tried to mark her. She’d frozen up for a second and I backed off, simply because fucking a woman who didn’t want me turned my stomach. But I’d also seen the disappointment in her eyes when I left her alone in bed. She hadn’t been sure she wanted me that night, but she hadn’t wanted me to leave either.

  I took a long swig of bourbon as she half perched on the sofa, her back arching, her leg swinging. The silken shorts rode up her thigh, making me want to walk over there and tear them off her. I walked to the window instead, putting more distance between us.

  “What did you want?”

  “It’s been a week now. I was wondering if you had a guess on how much longer we’d need to do this?” Her eyes were wide with hope. Most human females in her situation would be thrilled to be here, trying to climb into my bed every night so they could stay. Not her. But I’d known she was anything but normal the first time I saw her.

  “I don’t know, but it might be a while.”

  The questions were written all over her face. She wasn’t taking that answer calmly and going up to her room. That wasn’t who she was. She’d sit here and harangue me until she got answers. Couldn’t fault her when I’d do the same. It might’ve added to the urge to push her back onto that sofa and cover her with my body.

  “Why do you say that? What do you know that you haven’t told me?” she asked, exactly as I figured she would.

  “Mallard is still interested. He hasn’t moved on from you yet.”

  She slid off the couch arm and onto the seat. “Why would you say that? Did you hear something?”

  I took another long sip from my glass. Did I bother trying to put a good spin on it? That wasn’t my forte, especially when I was bitter about the news myself. “He hasn’t taken any other humans.”

  “I don’t understand what that has to do with me. Who cares what he’s doing with other people?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, as if suddenly realizing her vulnerability.

  I walked back around toward her, thinking over the best way to explain it. There was none. It was gruesome and disgusting and the reason I found Mallard so repulsive. Probably the reason I might’ve stepped forward and saved her even if Huddy hadn’t egged me on.

  No, there was no “probably” about it. I never would’ve been able to stomach Mallard touching her. It was simply easier to blame Huddy.

  “Mallard has a pattern that’s known in these parts. He’ll fixate on one human for a while. He’ll keep her around, feeding off her to almost lethal levels for days, or weeks or months, however long she lasts. He’ll pull back, leaving her on the brink of death indefinitely, watching her suffer, until he gets bored and finishes her off. Then he’ll move on to a new one and do the same. It’s always a female, and it’s the same pattern. But he hasn’t taken a new human yet, and that’s not normal for him.”

  Her eyes lowered to the floor as the fate that was almost hers was laid out so plainly. She didn’t shudder, tremble, or cry. The only thing that showed any weakness was the way she wrapped her arms a little tighter around herself.

  She lifted her gaze back to me after a few moments. Her face looked stone cold, but her eyes showed a flicker of the wildness she must’ve been feeling inside. That same wildness that made me want her so badly.

  “I need you to spell it out for me so I’m sure what you’re saying,” she said, still sounding calm.

  “He hasn’t moved on yet. That means only one thing with him. He’s still waiting for you.”

  “Are you sure he hasn’t moved on?” There was a spark in her that made me think she’d tear Mallard apart if she could. But with it was a slight tremble in her lower lip that I liked much less. “Maybe he hasn’t found someone he wants yet?”

  “Perhaps.” I handed her my glass of bourbon. “But I don’t think that’s it.”

  She took it, sipping on it before she sucked in her lower lip, biting it as she sat speechless on the couch.

  He still wanted her and, if I guessed right, would for a long time to come. The woman sitting in front of me was a prize you didn’t let go of easily. Even a sicko like Mallard saw her worth, if only to squander the gift in such a disgusting way. I wasn’t sure how I was getting out of this mess, but now that I’d taken her safety as part of my responsibility, I couldn’t quite figure out an exit plan.

  The idea of putting her out where Mallard could get her was revolting. Why I wanted to pull her onto my lap, tell her she had nothing to fear, was nearly as terrifying.

  “He’ll have to feed sooner or later, right? Maybe he’ll move on then?” she asked after nearly draining all my bourbon.

  There was hope in her eyes again. I’d have to stamp it out—again. This was turning into one of those days that needed a complete do-over.

  “No. He’s old, even for a vampire. He won’t have to eat for a long time, years, even, if he doesn’t want to.”

  She sat there, coming to terms with the information, going through the steps of acceptance as I had until she came to the very same question.

  “Then how will this whole charade ever end?” She shook her head, as if coming to the same realization. Maybe it wouldn’t.

  Unless…

  “There might be one solution. Maybe I could get you smuggled out of here.” Talk about breaking pact rules—not that I gave a shit.

  “You could get me out?”

  “I don’t know. I wouldn’t be able to do anything right away. There’s a lot of eyes on us right now.” I walked over to the bar and poured myself a new bourbon to wash away the distaste I’d gotten over the idea of never seeing her again. “It might not work anyway. It might make it easier for him, in fact. Once you step out of this country, there is no pact. There’s nothing at all to stop him from taking you. We’re only bound to the rules in this country.”

  The crushing vise that had wrapped around me moments ago loosened again. It was all true. Every word of it. Getting her out was a bad idea. No one would be there to protect her then. I was a pack leader, an alpha—it was in my DNA to protect. That’s all this was. Instincts.

  Except if it was just my instinct to protect, why was I shredded as I watched her slumped figure?

  “We’ll have to wait it out. There’s nothing else to be done,” I said, walking out on her. If I didn’t, I wasn’t sure what I’d do next.

  Twenty

  Penelope

  Me: Sassy, where are you? Why aren’t you answering?

  One minute…

  Two minutes…

  Ten minutes…

  Me: If you don’t answer me soon I’m going to kick your ass next time I see you. I’ll do it, too. I’ve done it before.

  I’d lost count of how many messages I’d sent Sassy, all unanswered. What the fuck was she doing?

  I could try to get Bigs to bring me to the house again, but that might be worse than not knowing. What if he saw something? What if she had the entire resistance hiding out in our living room? Knowing her, it was completely within the realm of possibilities.

  I held my phone, debating again whether to reach out to my father. If his phone was charged, and she was up to no good, he might tank her situation. Didn’t matter how many times I told him to watch what he texted or said on the phone, speaking to a drunk was like screaming into the abyss.

  I tossed the phone on my bed and heard it buzz a message as soon as it hit. Finally!

  Unknown: Have you thought about our offer?

  My hand hovered for a second before I hit delete. I was already in bed with one devil. I wasn’t looking to add Doesn’t Matter in for a ménage a trois in hell. If they were able to produce a cure for my sister, th
ey would’ve been dangling it. All I was getting were threats.

  I walked downstairs, pausing in the hall when I saw Bigs. He gave me a nod, his signal that the latest package had been delivered to my house. If I didn’t hear from Sassy soon, I might have to stop the deliveries. It was all getting too risky.

  “Thanks,” I said as I hit the last step.

  “Of course.”

  Whether it was smart or not, Bigs was beginning to feel a bit like an ally in an enemy camp, which, of course, was ridiculous. He was one of them. But maybe they weren’t all bad. Ricky hadn’t been. And just maybe Bigs could help?

  I crossed the hall to him, scoping out for any listening ears. It was too late in the day for housekeeping to be around, and too early for the cook to be back, but you couldn’t be too careful.

  Bigs started peeking around too, as if he were in on it, and making sure we were secure.

  After we both seemed satisfied, I said, “When they make the delivery, they don’t happen to see anyone, do they?” I didn’t know exactly who they were or I’d ask them myself.

  He shook his head quickly. “No. I told them to be discreet, so I’m sure they don’t.”

  “That’s good.” Shit.

  “Will you be needing more boxes?” he asked.

  “Probably tomorrow?” It wasn’t as if he didn’t realize at this point I was raiding all the food in the kitchen. I’d heard the cook carrying on the other day about how everything had gone missing again. It wouldn’t be out of line to tell me I had to stop stealing all the food in the house.

  “I stocked up again.”

  Bigs wasn’t just nice; he might’ve been the nicest person, shifter—whatever—I’d ever met. I wouldn’t be surprised if he started helping me pack the boxes soon. As it was, he always happened upon me right as I was finishing, ready to lift them for me.

  Every time I thought back to not taking his offered hand that day…

  “No,” Bigs said, as if he could read my face. “Not again.”

  “I wasn’t going to do it.” I totally was. I blushed.

  “We agreed it was in the past.”

  “I know.” I shrugged.

  He tilted his head.

  “I know.”

  He smiled and walked away. It nearly killed me not to throw one last “sorry” his way.

  “Don’t do it,” he said, right before he left the hall.

  I sighed really loud instead.

  “That counted,” he called out from the other room.

  I laughed. I’d known it would.

  I turned and went into the sitting room, straight to my section, and plucked a book from the shelf.

  I jumped with a squeak when I saw Donovan standing there. “You’re here.”

  Donovan’s elbow was on the mantel, a glass dangling from his fingers as he watched me. “This is my house.”

  I nodded, not remarking on the fact that even though it was his home, he wasn’t in it much. It was only four in the afternoon. He hadn’t been coming home for dinner. I assumed he’d been avoiding the house because of me, and I’d been fine with the arrangement. It was unfair to lure me into a false sense of security only to suddenly pop in now. He needed to go back to wherever he’d been spending his days. He could come back at dinner, or afterward. Or maybe never.

  I’d been heading toward the couch, so it was too awkward to run out of the room. Unless maybe he wanted me to?

  “Do you want some privacy?” Please take me up on that.

  “Not at all. Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to the couch.

  Figured he’d choose this moment to be civil. Although he hadn’t been bad last night. He’d almost looked sad to have to tell me the horrible truth about Mallard. Problem was that he couldn’t seem to maintain the nice him for very long, and once he went off the rails, he went really off.

  Looked like I was stuck for now, so I took a seat. I shifted about ten different ways because my normally comfortable spot felt lumpy and awkward.

  Determined to carry on whether he was there or not, I flipped open my book on human anatomy. Why he had one in his library could only mean bad things, but I’d take advantage of it anyway. One of these days I’d cross the border to Canada, and when I did, I didn’t want to be so rusty that I had to start from scratch.

  I blurred out my surroundings and tried to focus on the ligaments of the hand. It would be immensely easier if he wasn’t staring. And staring. Did he have nothing else to do?

  Finally I raised my head and my brow, silently asking him if I could help him with something.

  “Did you get that book?” he asked.

  “No. It was here.” At least he hadn’t been studying up on the easiest way to rip apart the human form. But why was he talking to me? He’d made it clear many times that he wasn’t really interested in conversing unless absolutely necessary.

  “Looks like a page turner,” he replied dryly.

  Why was he speaking? I’d liked our week of silence. “I find it interesting.”

  “I’m sure you do. You humans are riveting creatures.”

  As I’d feared, if he spoke for too long, he insulted me. Why had he told me to stay in the room with him if he was going to be as disagreeable as ever? I’d wanted to leave. Now I wanted to stay here and stab him with a letter opener. I might really do it if I didn’t have to worry about Mallard claiming me over Donovan’s dead body.

  He saved my ass. He saved my ass. He saved me. That was becoming my mantra, but the words were wearing thin when the only reason he was saving my ass was to save his own as well. How much credit did you have to give someone under those conditions? Surely not the same amount as saving you because they wanted to help you. He was helping himself.

  “Is that what you do for fun?” I asked, pointing at his drink.

  “I take it by your tone you disapprove?” he asked, smirking as if the implication that he was a drunk was amusing. He made a point of throwing back the rest of the glass while I stared at him.

  “You picked up on that, huh? Aren’t you the brightest bulb in the room.” He wasn’t the only one who could be sarcastic. He probably thought he’d invented sarcasm, he was so arrogant.

  He walked to the sideboard and poured himself another glass. “Alcohol doesn’t affect us the way it does humans. We don’t become inebriated, sloppy messes—not that people always need alcohol to do that.”

  I dropped the book to the couch. “Do you dislike all humans, or just me?”

  He turned around, a slight smile on his lips that told me before he said a word that I wasn’t going to like his answer.

  “I don’t like or dislike them. They, like you, are just there.”

  I should’ve walked out of the room as soon as I saw him. If I didn’t walk out now, this situation was going to move beyond a point of no return. I picked up my book.

  “Please, no. Don’t. Go,” he deadpanned as I gave him my back.

  I nearly bulldozed Huddy on my way out the door. I gave him a brief nod, the best I could do at the moment. I headed to the kitchen to leave a note for the cook. I’d be dining in my room tonight.

  Twenty-One

  Donovan

  I’d thought if I could make Penelope utterly hate me, it would help. If we were fighting, we wouldn’t be fucking, and I wouldn’t keep replaying last night in my mind, when she looked so beaten down.

  Fighting was worse. Watching the fire she had inside light like a blaze made me want to fuck her even more. My phone lit up daily with the women I kept ignoring because the only person I wanted to fuck was the one I couldn’t touch.

  Huddy walked in and helped himself to a drink. “I think it might’ve been kinder when you were avoiding her,” he said, smirking and looking as if he wished he’d gotten here ten minutes earlier. Huddy might deny it, but he liked a little drama from time to time, as long as he wasn’t the star of the show.

  “If I don’t make her hate me, I’m afraid I’m going to fuck her.”

  “What would be so
bad about that? Wouldn’t it be more enjoyable than what I just walked in on?” he said, settling into the same spot Penelope had abandoned.

  “In the short term, yes. But then the morning would come and she’d still be here. She’d have other issues that need fixing, because humans always do. Plus there’s the emotional side. Humans get messy, and it’s hard to keep things casual when you’re already living with them. We all know there’s no future for a shifter and a human, and she’s not the disposable one-use type.”

  Huddy shrugged. It was such an accepted reality that even he couldn’t find a way to argue around it.

  “Onto other subjects: did you make the drop?” I settled on the couch opposite him.

  His eyes went large as he took a sip. “Yes. I’d ask why we’re dropping off suitcases of cash to high-ranking vampires, but I have a feeling I already know.”

  “The more favors you call in, the more expensive they get,” I said. “Too bad no one could help with the Mallard situation, but he listens to no one. He’s uncontrollable.”

  Huddy pointed in the air. “Another reason I hate vampires. No pack loyalty.”

  He fell silent after that, nursing his drink. Something was up. Huddy wasn’t a hang-around type. He came, did his thing, took care of business, and moved on.

  “Is there something wrong?” I asked, figuring whatever was bugging him, whatever splinter was festering, Huddy didn’t seem willing to pull it out on his own.

  He shrugged and threw a hand up. “I was debating whether to even bother you with this, but I heard a rumor today.”

  “Which is?” I asked, somehow already knowing it involved Penelope.

  “I’m getting word that the vampires have been in communication with Penelope.”

  Knew it. Although this didn’t sound credible. “It sounds like bullshit. What would they gain from her?” I asked.

  “Maybe because they think she’s close to you she either has pull or information.”

  “She’s not privy to anything, and she’s got as much pull as a Chihuahua. If she was talking, they’d find that out very quickly. Look into it, but I doubt we’ll find anything.” Penelope might be a pain-in-the-ass human, but my gut said that was probably the worst of her faults.