by Jody Wallace
“Well, hell. What else is going to go wrong?”
It was the first time he’d ever heard her curse. She didn’t even realize how wrong things had gone. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“No.” She began scraping up red powder, cutting her hands on the glass, and sprinkled the powder into the bowl.
Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. Her magic had failed once already. Gavin knew who he was and had double the reason to kill him now, because Harry knew how he’d gotten that scar—and why. Gavin wouldn’t take any chances Harry might enlighten the Roanoke pack about what had happened to Christine Lapin. “June, we can’t stay here.”
She plucked out a few pieces of glass, her hands unsteady. “It’s a strong door. We have a few minutes.”
“Not strong enough. We need to run.”
She glanced at him, anguish twisting her pretty features. Blisters began to form on her fingers. “We don’t. You do.”
Harry glared at her. “We’re both going to run.”
“I’ll survive what he wants to do to me. You won’t. You’ll die, Harry, and I won’t allow it.” Her voice cracked. “After I disguise you and your wolf, you’re going alone.”
“No. Disguise us both.”
“I can’t.”
“Then we run.”
She ignored him, pounding a pestle into the bowl, the tink-tink a counterpoint to the werewolves trying to get into the safe room. Blood streaked the handle of the pestle, the sides of the bowl. “If I never improvise a spell again, it will be too soon.”
She inhaled a deep breath, throwing back her head so her yellow curls tumbled down her back. She dumped the powdery mess into one hand, closed her eyes, made a double fist, and…nothing.
Until a pressure began to build in the air, a pressure Harry now recognized as magic. It popped almost audibly and she fell forward, catching herself on the concrete with one blistered hand. The other clutched her powder.
“What did you do?” He dragged her to her feet. She swayed, eyelids fluttering in semi-unconsciousness.
“Some spells take a lot out of me,” she whispered. Then she wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him.
Harry kissed her for a second and pulled away. The coppery scent of her blood hit him at the same time. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You are.” She smeared powder across his neck. Glass cut his skin but it was nothing compared to the slow, mounting burn that followed.
He clapped his hand over the area. “Cast a spell on yourself too.”
“Not enough power. Shift so I can mask the wolf.”
“No.”
She stared him straight in the eyes. “I love you, Harry.” Then she slapped him full across the mouth. “Now do it.”
Her alpha flared up as if she were as pack as Bianca. He stepped back, his shoulders instinctively drooping, before growling at her.
“No.” His own alpha responded in kind. “I stay. You go.”
“Good grief, Harry, why do you make things so hard? I have a plan.” She snatched a purplish twig from the floor and grabbed his arm.
Pressure. Pop. Calm washed over him along with the scent of lavender. Pandemonium around him, but his path was clear.
Protect his woman with every fiber of his being.
She lurched forward, clutching her stomach, her skin pasty. Her eyes burned a hole through him, their blue shade the most intense color in the chill room. Her pupils shrank to barely visible dots.
“Shift,” she ordered again, her voice low and dangerous.
Harry felt the command’s strength. Found it reasonable. The change fluttered over him, tingling through his extremities. The surface pain at his neck melted as his animal took control. He could do more damage in this form. He could hold the pack off while June got away.
The thunderous attack on the door halted. “What’s going on in there? What do I smell?” Gavin asked. “Is June an alpha? My lucky day. I need a new alpha bitch in my pack.”
Harry nuzzled June’s crotch. She smelled of his body, of hers, layered with a pure thread of alpha. She fell onto her hands and knees.
Was she changing? Now?
She shook her head like a wet dog. He whined anxiously, unable to express his concerns any other way.
“Come here,” she croaked. She extended her arm around his neck, rubbed down his spine. A few flecks of cayenne twitched like fire against his skin.
Pressure. Pop. June groaned and crumpled to the floor.
Harry nuzzled her and considered shifting back, but two quick transformations before a fight would weaken him way too much.
The door rattled. Dust fell from the jamb as the metal fixtures began to loosen.
“Get help,” she whispered. Her last words to him, before she passed out, were, “You big dummy.”
The door thundered. A crack appeared in the jamb.
Harry could stay. Fight. Lose.
Die.
Or he could go. Run. Get help.
If Gavin laid one hand on June, if the pack did anything to hurt her, Harry would find a way. He might be a man who’d never wanted much beyond good food, a pretty woman and the freedom to roam. He might be a man who’d comforted himself with the knowledge that the best revenge was a life well lived. But the past twenty-four hours had seared off his soft edges.
Forged him anew.
He would find a way to make them all pay.
Liquid splashed her face. June shivered awake, gasping.
“Get up.” A tall figure loomed over her, an empty cup in his hand. “I’ve got questions for you.”
Her vision blurred as beer stung her eyes. She tried to wipe her face but found her wrists secured behind her back. She blinked rapidly. The hazy shape took form—Gavin.
He stood with his legs spread, glowering at her. “Where did he go?”
“Who?” She was sprawled in the back of a pickup. Trees above, voices nearby, mostly male. The tailgate was down. A breeze puffed across her legs, exposed by the sleep shirt.
Gavin leaned over and captured her chin. “Where did John Lapin go? He was there and then he wasn’t.”
Snippets of memory filtered back to her. The door to the cellar bursting in, rough hands, her body given the potato-sack treatment. Harry must have gotten away.
Thank the Goddess he hadn’t stayed in some futile effort to fight Gavin. Thank the Goddess twice her adlibbed masking spell had worked. Her head ached and her mouth tasted like a dirty sock.
How dumb should she play? She couldn’t pretend to be human, but she could pretend to be uninformed. For example, she’d had no idea Harry had an alias until today.
She widened her eyes in feigned confusion. “I don’t know a John Lapin.”
Harry might have gone to the cops or he might have gone to the coven. It wouldn’t be easy to convince either group to take on the pack. The cops would want proof and a search warrant while the coven… Well, she had no idea what the coven would do. They’d never been faced with a crisis like this.
Gavin patted her cheek sharply. “Harry Smith is a fake name. His real name is John Lapin. I know you’re stupid, but think back. How did he get away?”
“He said his name was Warren.” She examined what she could see of the terrain. Deciduous trees, pines, a thick canopy. Birds calling, squirrels chittering. She couldn’t see any mountains, but there were no signs of civilization. A diesel motor coughed to life nearby.
“I don’t care if he said he was Elvis. Answer my question.” Gavin dragged her into a sitting position and propped her against the back of the truck. Wriggling her bound hands and her bottom, she inched her nightshirt over her hips.
“Which question? You asked two.” Her arms were duct-taped from wrist to forearm. It wouldn’t contain a pack wolf, but it would contain her, with maximum discomfort.
He crouched and mustered enough alpha that June felt pressured to obey. The flat skin of his scar darkened, and it pulled his mouth into a sneer. “I’m losing my patience, bit
ch. Where did he go?”
Witches followed certain protocol if detected by shifters: claim you were indie and hope they believed it. It was easier when the witch looked young enough to be a juvie. June shouldn’t set off any immediate alarms with regards to her genetics.
“I assume he took off,” she said. “I blacked out.”
“Why, did he hit you?”
Gavin increased his alpha, and June struggled not to yield. Outside of Harry, she hadn’t had much experience fending off alpha vibes. Bianca and Bert hadn’t frequented the tea room.
“He shoved me,” she managed to lie, hoping Gavin was on the weak side. “He said I’d slow him down.”
Gavin’s nostrils flared. “Bullshit. What did you do to help him?”
Rats, he could smell dishonesty. She’d have to choose her words more carefully. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d deal with frustration constructively, and all of Harry’s dire warnings about Gavin ticked through her mind like the timer on a bomb.
“I was giving him a ride out of town,” she said. “I had a car, and he’s cute.” All true.
Gavin rubbed the scarred corner of his mouth. “Is he going to play hero and come after you?”
She wanted to search for clues to her location, maybe spell ingredients, but it might anger Gavin if she didn’t give him her full attention. She held his black, intense gaze with her own. “We met yesterday. What do you think?”
“I think he ran like the coward he is. Damn. I was hoping I’d get a chance to rip out his throat,” Gavin said so casually it chilled her. “You’re sure you don’t know where he went?”
“I’m sure.”
“How did you hide the fact you were shifters last night after your wreck?”
She couldn’t think of a lie a human would believe, much less a shifter, so she deflected. “Look, Gavin, I feel dumb enough getting mixed up in pack politics. Whatever you think I did to you, I’m sorry. If you let me go, I won’t tell the police. I just want to forget the past couple of days ever happened.”
The sun painted the sky to the west in shades of yellow and red. Late afternoon. She’d been unconscious for hours. They could have driven a hundred miles from her house, and they could have driven ten. When she tested her center, a little magic had been restored. So she wasn’t completely tapped.
“You’re right about that, baby. You won’t be telling the police anything at all.”
“I told you I wouldn’t.” Another chill engulfed her. Shifters weren’t murderous. Generally. When they were, they were more likely to eliminate rival shifters than humans, and there hadn’t been a full-out pack war in decades.
Did Gavin see her as a rival or, worse, a danger to the pack?
He watched her with a malicious smirk. “Don’t look like that. I won’t hurt you if you treat me right. In fact, after tonight, you’ll be part of my pack. I’m stepping up as Millington’s alpha. It’s no problem to include you in the bonding ceremony.”
Her stomach lurched. “You can’t do that. I’m a juvenile. I’ve never shifted.” She wasn’t even sure she could. If they tried to bond her, the pack would realize she wasn’t a standard shifter. The coven could wipe her memories, but they couldn’t transform her into a werewolf.
“You think because you’re a juvie we can’t bond you?” Gavin laughed. “We have ways.”
She wriggled her fingers. Her hands and arms began to go numb. “How?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Why are you still a juvie, anyway?” He fondled her breast. “This isn’t a teenager’s body.”
She kicked at him, nearly falling over.
“Hands off,” she ordered before she could stop herself.
He laughed again. “You know, I actually felt that. That’s so cute, you trying to tell me what to do. Like a yappy poodle. You’ve got to be close to changing. Bonding you won’t be a problem. Indies always end up thanking us after the fact.”
“No thank you.”
“Like you have a choice.” He stared at her chest, covered by her thin sleep shirt.
“Bianca’s a dyke, did you know that?”
“No.” Bianca must have turned him down.
“If she gives me much more shit, how about we get rid of her and you be my bitch?”
“I don’t want to join a pack.” June didn’t want to anger him, but she couldn’t pretend to be thrilled, either. He’d never buy that.
“Well, I’m liking this plan more and more. How old are you?”
“What does it matter?” Some shifters were twenty-one or so at first change. Not many, but it happened.
“You’ve got to be the oldest juvie I’ve ever met. Did you know a good screw can bring on the change? I guess Harry wasn’t good enough.”
“That’s none of your business.” She hadn’t known that, but it confirmed what witches knew about sex with shifters—what she personally knew. It roused the beast.
Gavin grabbed her breast, bruising and cruel. “I bet you’re screwing every shifter you meet so you can wake up your wolf.”
“Leave me alone.” She tried to kick him again, and he caught her ankles, his grip like iron.
“It’s not a bad strategy.” He pulled her legs, hard, and her torso whipped backward. She struggled frantically as he planted his hips between her legs. “Okay, okay, you convinced me. I’ll do you.”
“No!” Bile rose in her throat. The coven could wipe memories of trauma too, but that didn’t mean she wanted to suffer through it.
“What are you gonna do?” He ground his erection against her, pinching her tender flesh. When he thrust, the top of her head thunked the wheel well.
“Cut it out!” Their position wrenched her shoulders, her bound arms trapped beneath her. She heaved. “Get off me.”
In response, he laughed and banged her head against the truck again. His breath smelled of beer and meat. June’s stomach roiled. “You don’t like this? Is that because you’d rather suck me?”
She’d rather curse him with impotency. She could do it too, with the right herbs and a snoot full of magic.
Neither of which she had at the moment. But she did have witnesses.
June released an ear-splitting wail. “Help!”
Gavin struck her hard enough in the face that tears sprang into her eyes. Fury and frustration swelled in her so quickly, she had no time to be afraid.
She screamed again. Her animal raged. Wrath curdled her voice.
Gavin flinched, half rising off her body. His shoulders hunched.
As soon as she stopped to draw another breath, he seized the front of her panties. “Shut the hell up.”
Before he could rip her underwear, somebody jumped into the truck. Maurice, the kid from this morning. “Jesus, Gav, what are you doing to her?”
“Fan-damn-tastic, it’s the moral majority.” Gavin released her and rocked on his heels but didn’t bother standing up. “What have I told you about interrupting me with a woman?”
June struggled into a sitting position to observe the byplay between the two men. Though both were dressed in T-shirts and jeans, Gavin’s stocky heft outweighed the wiry, dark-skinned Maurice by fifty pounds.
“You’re not with her, dude. You said you were going to question her.” Maurice’s gaze skidded across June as if reluctant to acknowledge her. “Did you find anything out?”
“I found out she’s a whore.” Gavin slapped her calf. “Right, baby?”
“Wrong.” June focused on Maurice’s young face. In the woods, he’d warned Harry to get out of town. He’d interrupted when June screamed. He didn’t seem comfortable with Gavin’s methodology. Maurice was likely her best bet for sympathy.
“I’m never wrong about women.” Gavin groped her thigh. “If I am wrong, it’s when they’re dumber than I thought.”
“I told him everything he asked and he hit me,” she said to Maurice. “He threatened to hurt me. Would you let him do this to your mother?”
“Maurice’s mommy was an indie whore like
you,” Gavin said. “He left her and joined a pack as soon as he was old enough.”
Maurice glowered at Gavin, his expression darkening. “You can’t keep doing this, Gav. The old man said next time it happened, you were done. You’re just supposed to bring them in.”
“What the hell do I care about Pop’s rules now?” Gavin stood, finally, and adjusted his privates with a display of bravado. “Bianca’s got to choose somebody tonight. If Smith got away from us, there’s no way she’ll catch him. As for the rest of the candidates, they’re long gone. I’m Bianca’s only option—just like we planned.”
“What about the girl?” Maurice asked.
“Late bloomer. She’s running around screwing everything with four legs to call her wolf.” Gavin gestured rudely. “If you quit whining like a punk ass, you can stick it to her when I’m done. Only try not to knock her up, bro. That didn’t work out so well last time.”
Maurice cringed. “I don’t think—”
“Did I ask you to think?” Gavin visibly dominated the smaller man. As he ranted, his scar reddened. “Whores like her are fair game. No pack, no protection, no penalty. You know it, I know it, she knows it. She deserves it. Pack is the only thing that matters, and any wolf who refuses the true path is scum.”
Another man, large and bearded, approached the truck. He had a plastic cup in his hand. “Is the puppy whining again? Ignore him, Gav. The ceremony starts at midnight. Our new pack awaits.”
“That doesn’t leave us much time.” Gavin prodded June with his foot. “How about this? You suck me off on the way, and I promise to bone you later.”
She glared at him. He’d be a fool to get his organ anywhere near her teeth.
The other man guffawed. “Save it for the after-party. You want me to chain her in the cabin?”
“I was thinking about making her pack. What do you think, Roy?”
“A juvie?” asked the big guy. “Harsh. Think she’ll survive it?”
“Maybe.” Gavin appraised her. “Worth a try.”
June’s head spun. She wanted to ask why juvies didn’t survive pack bonds, but a typical shifter might know. It didn’t sound good.
