by Alana Hart
Reagan drank in the sight of him until she couldn’t see him anymore. That was it. He was gone.
Reluctantly, she fixed her eyes on the house looming around the corner. It was an old farmhouse, the barn out back converted into Hank’s giant tool shed. Everything was as she had left it earlier this week. It felt like she had been gone a lifetime, but it had only been a matter of days.
Cormac parked on the street in front of the house.
Reagan’s heart beat in her throat. She stepped onto shaking legs, Liam’s hand gripping her upper arm the only thing keeping her upright, and followed the older shifter up the flagstone path. She couldn’t stop shaking.
Liam gave her a fleeting frown, his grip tightening on her arm, whether for support or to keep her from fainting she didn’t know. Knowing Liam it was an attempt to keep her from freaking out.
Cormac knocked. From inside came the sound of heavy footfalls. Reagan glanced around the street. There were only two other houses and neither was in sight of hers. As always, no one would see what Hank was doing or hear her screaming. There was enough space that Hank was afforded the privacy he needed.
The turning knob snapped Reagan’s head around. She stared, wide-eyed as the door opened.
Hank was a large man, tall and broad, his shoulders wide. He had seemed so safe when she met him, but he had become a more foreboding tyrant than her mother. Light hair was turning gray at his temples, blonde stubble coated his jaw, and dark eyes sighted her.
She felt the anger hit her like a physical punch.
He turned to Cormac. “Where’s my dog?”
Cormac’s smile never faltered. “’Fraid you didn’t ask us to find a dog. Only your wife. She’s here.” He gestured at Reagan and held his hand out to Hank. “We’d like to get paid and be on our way. You’re not the only thing needin’ our attention today.”
Hank snorted. He disappeared for a moment, returning with an envelope. Cormac opened it, counting.
“It’s all there,” Hank spat.
Cormac finished counting and smiled at Hank. “Got to make sure, don’t I?” He turned to Reagan, his smile pleasant, his eyes hard. “You have a nice day now.”
He clomped down the porch steps. Liam released her arm and followed. Reagan felt them leave without turning. Hank’s eyes remained fixed on her as they climbed into the SUV and drove away. All that remained was silence. The snow falling onto the front yard was hushed. She quaked under his glare.
“Where is she?”
Reagan’s throat worked to speak. She was highly aware of the microphone on her chest and the task she was meant to do. Finally, her voice came out on a shaky exhale. “Gone. She’s gone.”
“Where?” The fact that he hadn’t even touched her yet was making Reagan anxious. He was building up to it. If she tried to run, he would tackle her. He’d done it before, breaking one of her fingers in the process.
Her mouth was dry, but she swallowed anyway, desperate to alleviate the thickness in her throat. “I…” What could she say that would make him know there was no way he was getting her back? “I killed it,” she said, fighting the tightness in her chest.
His eyes hardened even more. “You what?”
“I killed it,” she said again. Ten years of being pushed around bubbled to the surface. “You wanted that th-thing, and I took it from you.” She took a shaky breath.
For a moment his glare held her, and then he smiled. It was that smile that prompted her to try and run. She turned, but he caught her by the hair and threw her inside, the roots of her hair ripping her scalp. The floor was as hard as she remembered.
Scrambling away from him, Reagan saw the holes in the walls. Apparently he’d used the house as his punching bag this week. Hank closed and locked the door. He advanced on her, bigger than she remembered, angrier.
“I bought that animal,” he said, stepping toward her. “Paid a good amount for it, too.” Reagan’s back met the wall. She had nowhere else to go. “You might have considered it a gift to you as well.”
She stared up at him. “What?”
Hank crouched in front of her. He smelled like vapor rub and spicy food. He cupped her face in his hand, the tenderness a farce. She froze.
“I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Reagan. I know my temper can get the best of me. So I got that dog.” He smiled, the darkness in his eyes empty holes.
“You were going to hurt her instead of me?” She wanted to throw up.
He nodded, his fingers caressing her neck. “But now she’s gone.”
She braced for it. Hank wrapped his hand around her throat and lifted her. She held onto his wrist, choking, as he reared back and slammed her against the wall. Stars danced in front of her eyes.
“I can’t afford another one, Reagan,” he said, slamming her again. His voice was cold, devoid of emotion. “I could have married anyone. But I chose you. I loved you. And you left me.” He pressed her against the wall, his body pressing against hers. She prayed he didn’t feel the microphone.
His dark eyes searched her face. “Did you think someone else would love you better than me?” He shook his head, sneering. “You’re damaged goods. No one will want to touch you. No one will ever love you again.”
His free hand came up to flick away the tear on her cheek. He dropped her, and she crumbled to the floor at his feet, gasping for breath.
His foot connected with her side, blinding her with pain. She curled into a ball, attempting to protect herself. Again, his foot hit her, this time coming down on her back. She screamed.
“Why weren’t you happy?” he snarled. “I’m the best you’ll ever get.” His foot slammed her side again, stealing her breath. “No one’s gonna want you.”
She watched, her head swimming, as his foot pulled back again, this time aiming for her face. She relaxed, hoping he hit her hard enough to kill her.
There was the crash of shattering glass and splintering wood, and then Hank was thrown away from her, across the hall, landing in a heap by the front door. Standing over Reagan, his chest heaving, was Aidan.
Her heart swelled. He knelt beside her, his fingers tentatively grazing her face. Concerned eyes found hers.
“Are you okay? Does anything feel broken?” his voice cradled her.
“I don’t think so,” her voice was hoarse and strained. She wiggled her toes and fingers, moved her hips. Aside from being very sore, nothing seemed broken. She sat up and gasped, pain slicing up her side.
Aidan eased her against the wall, his fingers exploring her ribs. “Not broken,” he said. “Cracked maybe.”
Through the doorway behind him came Cormac, Liam, and Emmett. Cormac smiled as if he were out for a good time with the boys. He took in the hall with its hole-punched walls and the door hanging off its hinges.
Liam took Hank by the shirt and yanked him off the floor. Despite weighing half a man less than hank, Liam carried him easily into the living room, disappearing from Reagan’s view.
Emmett came up behind Aidan, his glare filled with disgust. “He didn’t call, Aidan. You attacked too soon.”
Aidan kept his eyes on Reagan’s. “He wasn’t going to call. You heard him; he couldn’t afford another.”
Emmett growled. “You didn’t attack him until he said—”
“We’ll get him to call,” Aidan said.
“And if we can’t? How many pups did you just sacrifice for that?” He scowled at Reagan, the human.
Aidan stood, facing his cousin, standing taller and just as wide. “We’ll get him to call,” he said again.
Emmett and Aidan stared at one another, the anger between them boiling.
Finally, Emmett stalked into the living room. Aidan bent down to Reagan.
“Can you walk?”
He helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist to guide her into the living room, pain searing her side with each step. He sat her on the couch. Cormac stood before Hank sitting in his armchair. Before him on the floor, stood a very large, very an
gry wolf.
Chapter Seventeen
If they weren’t able to get a location out of Hank, Aidan would have to answer to Ronan and Cormac and Emmett and Siobhan and all of the other shifters who would know that Aidan had fucked this job up over a woman. A human woman.
He wasn’t going to be with her. He couldn’t. Ronan wouldn’t let him. It was decided that Aidan was going back to Ireland to train to be the next alpha, and not only that, but he was to be mated with someone from Siobhan’s father’s pack, and when Ronan made a decision, no one argued.
Except for Connor who was currently being hunted by Ronan. Aidan had convinced him that he didn’t know where his older brother had gone to, and he’d gotten isolation for helping him in the first place, but he didn’t think the alpha would be so kind if Aidan decided to ignore his ruling and take Reagan as his mate.
He hung back, letting Cormac take the lead on interrogating Hank. Liam growled at the man, hackles raised, ears back. Hank stared at Liam in horror. A little pup was nothing compared to a fully-grown shifter. He was lucky Emmett didn’t shift as well.
“Now,” Cormac said. “I’m going to ask you once, and if you lie or tell me you don’t know, my nephew’s going to take a chunk outta your leg. Understand?”
Hank’s wide eyes shifted from Liam to Cormac and back again.
Cormac nodded. “Where’d you get that pup from?”
Hank’s mouth worked, making no sound.
Liam barked, making Hank jump.
“I—I was looking online for dogs; strong dogs, the kind can put up with a lot. I looked at a bunch of sites. Then I got the email for the auction.”
“How’d you get in?” Emmett asked.
Hank’s eyes flitted over Emmett and Aidan. “Password. I signed up, and I had to answer about a million frigging questions. Then they sent me a password. It’s changed now, though. Changes all the time.”
Cormac sighed. “All right. Let’s skip the preliminaries. How do you contact them now?”
Hank shook his head. The beginning of, “I don’t know” had barely formed on his lips when Liam bit him hard on the ankle. Hank screamed, pulling his leg into the chair. Blood seeped into his pants.
“I told you not to do that,” Cormac shrugged.
“Do you call?” Emmett asked, stepping forward. “Email? How do you get in touch if you want another pup?”
The man’s throat jumped, his words stuck. Liam snarled. Hank blinked quickly, visibly shaking. “I c—call.”
“Good,” Cormac said and handed him a phone. “Do it.”
Hank’s hands shook hard, the small cell phone close to falling to the floor. He turned terrified eyes on Cormac. “What’ll you do to me when I call?”
Cormac’s cheek lifted in a smile. “What makes you think we’ll do anything to you?”
Hank’s eyes flitted to Reagan.
Cormac shrugged. “She ain’t one of us. Just a means to an end.”
He glanced at the wolf snarling at him.
“Well,” Cormac said. “That is a problem. We kept the pup. Oh yeah, she’s alive and, no, you ain’t getting her back. You’re gonna call them, ask for another. We’re gonna find out where they are and put an end to this business. You do as we say, help us out; well, perhaps I can find it in my heart to let you live.”
Hank swallowed a few times, his fingers gripping the phone. He nodded.
“Emmett?” Cormac said over his shoulder.
“All set. Computer’s in the van, ready to trace the call.”
Cormac gestured for Hank to make the call. All the bravado Hank’d had when he was beating on Reagan was gone. He dialed and waited. Aidan could hear the line ringing. When it was answered, Hank opened his mouth to speak, but Cormac leaned over and plucked the phone from Hank’s hand.
A woman spoke, her words lost to Aidan. He glanced at Reagan on the couch. Her eyes were half-closed and she was clutching her side. He wanted to go to her, hold her, but was afraid of what his family would do if he tried. So he stayed put and listened to Cormac.
“Why hello there! I’m calling to inquire about a new pup. Seems mine got stolen and I can’t find her.” He listened to the woman speak. “Is that right? I was hoping to get a pup sooner than that. No? I have to bid during the new auction?”
Emmett, who was looking at his watch, gave Cormac a thumbs up.
“Well, all right. You have yourself a great day.” He hung up and tossed the phone onto an end table.
Hank stared up at Cormac, the terror in his eyes betraying the brave face he put on. “So,” he said. “I’m good? You’ll let me live?”
Cormac smiled. “I don’t see why not.” He nudged Liam, who shifted into a human. He dressed in his discarded clothes, Hank’s fascination mingled with horror.
“And her?” He nodded to Reagan. “She stays with me?”
Cormac had started walking toward the front door despite the confusion on Aidan and Emmett’s faces. As far as they knew, Hank wasn’t going to be let free. Aidan balled his hands into fists, ready to do as Cormac said he would. But the old man gave a slight shake of his head.
“What’s that?” Cormac asked, turning to face Hank. The man had stood, his bravado returning.
“My wife. I paid you to return her and you did. So she stays with me,” he said, and then added, “Right?”
The old shifter rubbed his scruffy chin. Reagan had gone white, her wide eyes on Cormac. “Does seem fair, doesn’t it? I suppose you’ll want to have a talk with her about taking your property?”
Hank snorted. “Yeah, we’ll talk.”
The smile that spread over the old man’s face turned Aidan’s blood cold. “Wrong answer,” he said. There was a slight breeze as something rushed past Aidan. A moment later Hank fell into the chair, his hand on the hole in his throat, blood gushing between his fingers. Cormac stood over him, Hank’s larynx in his claws.
A strangled scream tore Aidan’s attention from Hank gurgling for breath. Reagan’s horror morphed into confusion and then understanding as she stared at Cormac.
“You,” she said. “You killed my father.” She shook her head. “Why?”
Cormac shrugged, tossing the bit of Hank to the floor at the dead man’s feet. “What can I say? You sort of grew on me.”
“You sent Aidan across the ocean so I couldn’t get near him. Told me we could never be together. Threatened me to stay away from him.”
Aidan caught Cormac’s eye for a moment, but the old man looked away.
Cormac sighed. “You might not be allowed in our family, but you don’t deserve the shit you been dealt.”
Reagan stared up at him, her eyes shining.
There was a sound like bone popping and the feel of something speeding past Aidan’s leg, and then Reagan jerked, grabbing her stomach. The metallic smell of blood mixed with the hot scent of a spent bullet. Aidan froze; time froze. Reagan pulled her hands away from her stomach to reveal a hole, blood pouring from the wound.
All the air left Aidan as he turned to the front door and watched six collared shifters charge through. Uncollared as they were, and stronger as a pack, Aidan, Cormac, and Liam shifted into wolves. Emmett remained human, pulling a knife from his hip and attacking the nearest shifter.
The wolves and collared shifters growled, fighting, biting, snarling. Aidan went for the throat of his quarry. The shifter aimed his gun, trying for a shot at Aidan’s chest. With a vicious snarl, Aidan clamped down on the man’s hand, shook his head, and felt the bone snap in his jaws. The shifter screamed. Cradling his broken arm, the gun forgotten on the floor, the shifter stared into Aidan’s eyes.
Before he could speak, Aidan lunged, latching onto the man’s throat, careful of the collar, and bit until he felt the neck snap.
Around him, the others brought their attackers down in a cacophony of tearing flesh, cracking bones, snarls, and snapping jaws.
All went quiet.
Emmett sat on the floor, using his sleeve to wipe a bleeding cut over his ey
e, the shifter at his feet staring at the ceiling, his throat wide open. Liam shifted into a human, resetting two of his fingers. Cormac, already human, his jeans pulled up, was sitting beside Reagan.
Aidan felt his body shift; the cells of his body bending and stretching, the pain of it so normal that he didn’t really even feel it anymore. And then he took Reagan’s hand in his. She was already cold, the blood sticky.
Her dark eyes found his. They were clouded and she smiled.
“Cormac?” Aidan said. He could feel her heart slowing down.
The old man looked at her wound, his face grim when he sat back. He met Aidan’s gaze and shook his head. How could his uncle not have the answers? Why couldn’t he save her? This was Cormac. He could fix anything.
Aidan pulled her arm toward him, his fangs emerging. Cormac slapped his hand over her exposed forearm.
“Don’t,” he said.
Aidan glared at him. “She’ll die.”
“Let her. Show her some mercy, Aidan,” Cormac pleaded. “The bite could kill her. And if it doesn’t, the pain of turning could.”
Reagan started to shake, her eyes rolling in her head. She mumbled incoherently. Aidan pressed a hand to her sweaty brow.
“I won’t live without her again.” He met Cormac’s eyes, willing him to understand his meaning. They stared at one another, silently desperate in their thoughts.
Finally, with a heavy nod, Cormac removed his hand.
At once, Aidan bent his head and sank his fangs into Reagan’s forearm. He bit until he felt bone. She flinched, her eyes fluttering closed. Aidan watched the bite on her arm turn black, and then ghostly white. He waited. They all waited, breath held.
Her heart slowed… slowed… stopped. Was he too late?
And then she screamed, arching her back, her skin burning, her heart racing too fast.
“We have to go, Aidan,” Emmett said, his voice weak. “Someone’ll hear.”
