Damn, she moved fast. He hadn’t expected her to get this far. Granted he and Roc had been distracted by their friendly brawl, but he figured the dark forest would have intimidated her.
He thought briefly of her scar and the MIBs, as she called them. He didn’t know enough about her. For all he knew, she could have been raised in a forest.
Damn it to fucking hell, why had she run?
He needed to find her. To find out exactly what she knew about the Order of the Elements. To discover why part of his clan’s history had been hidden. To know that she was safe.
To hold her in my arms again.
The smell of sweat, male bodies and fear abruptly reached him.
Mac sprinted faster. Just ahead he could see the signs of a struggle. Broken tree limbs and crushed leaves matted the wet ground. Water dripped from nearby branches. His heart pounded. Sela’s fear hung heavy in the air.
“This way,” Roc yelled, pointing up a slight incline.
Mac leapt up the hill. At the top lay a deeply rutted old jeep trail. All the signs of her capture ended at the trail. Mac lifted his head. He turned to his left. That way. The old jeep trail met up with a dirt road a couple miles down. The dirt road ended at the highway.
The bright light of the full moon lit the rutted trail, the dense canopy separated by the rough road.
Mac stepped onto the trail. Moonlight encompassed him. He tilted his head up, allowing the moon’s power to wash over and through him.
His beast howled, crouched, ready to spring. His claws and fangs emerged. His shoulders began to broaden.
He turned to follow Sela’s scent. Strange men had taken his mate. She was afraid. He wanted to kill them. He would kill them. He let his beast loose and went after his mate.
****
They’d taken her clothes again. Just like last time. The icy cold metal floor of the cage burned her skin. She wrapped her arms tightly around her frozen flesh. Every exhale a vaporous fog. So fucking cold. She hated the cold. Any minute now the door would open, and the real torture would begin.
Her throat tightened. Sela swallowed the sob. She pushed her shoulders back, but hunched back over immediately. She would not show them any weakness, but damn it all, the temperature had to be below freezing in here.
Sela smiled at one of the many red blinking lights around the room. The camera automatically zoomed in at her movement.
Fuck you, assholes. You can kill me, but you won’t break me.
She felt surprisingly calm about her impending death. After all the years, at last the wait would be over. She always knew they would catch her. She could finally rest.
She hated what her death would do to her sisters. She hated that she wouldn’t be able to see them again. She absolutely hated that the MIBs has won.
Oh, for pity’s sake. Get a grip. You’re still alive. You can still fight.
Damn them. She was letting them get to her already, the cold and her own vulnerability, wearing her down. The fanatics knew what they were about.
Fight.
She had not made it this far to let them win. She’d spent her entire life fighting for her right to simply live. She would not give up now.
She began to flex her fingers and her toes. Pinpricks of heat began to tingle through her. She rolled her shoulders and shifted back and forth on her feet. It hurt, but she moved just a bit more easily now.
The metal cage was just over four feet in height and about the same in width. She could crouch or sit, but not much more. The bars were solid steel and about three inches thick. Periodically, electricity bolted through the bars, enough to jerk her entire body if she happened to be touching the bars at the same time. Sela kept to the middle of the cage. The floor of the cage seemed to be protected from those bolts. She hadn’t checked out the solid ceiling yet.
Fight.
She couldn’t see anything beyond the cage in the room. Calling the room plain was an overstatement. Four blank gray walls and one door. Nothing else, but a bright light source somewhere above the cage and the cameras monitoring her every move. Plus, she needed to actually get out of the cage somehow before she could begin searching for a weapon.
She figured it had been about 3 hours since they’d caught her. Maybe a little less. Enough time for her bladder to come close to the filling point. She’d have to do something about that soon, but not quite yet. She did not relish that peepshow. And what would happen if she was still inside the cage and electricity pulsed through the bars? Liquid was a powerful conductor for electricity. The MIBs probably wouldn’t give her time out for a potty break.
She’d cross that bridge when she had to. Right now she needed to focus on the reality at hand, which brought her right back to naked in the cage. She had a bit more mobility now. She would keep working on warming up her body. She huffed out a breath. The vapor wafted out through the bars of the cage.
Fight.
The proverbial light bulb went off. Vapor. Moisture. Power over water. So it wasn’t much, she might just be able to make a small puddle outside of the cage. And they would know the minute her mark glowed that she was using her power – probably what they’d been waiting for – but it was something. Especially if she could figure a way to connect a puddle outside the cage to the bars.
The minute the door opened she’d be in big trouble. The last time she’d been fourteen when they’d caught her. They’d used electricity too back then, body zapping charges that left her screaming. The knife cuts had been too shallow to leave any true scars, but she remembered the agonizing pain all too well. Then they’d killed her mother and shot her.
Fight.
The hell if she would let them break her. She was older now and her mark active. She’d fight every one of them to the death. Theirs or hers - although theirs would be much more preferable. She would fight them with every last bit of her being. And then some.
Sela cautiously shifted her arms to her side, elbows pressed tight to her ribs. She rubbed her hands together as if she were warming them over a fire. She concentrated on her mark. She felt the power within her begin to grow. Her mark started to burn and then to shine. She tried to keep her forearms facing each other to minimize the sign of her power.
Fight.
Cupping her hands, she inhaled deeply and blew out as much moisture as she could into her palms. She pushed some energy outward. Hundreds of tiny, glittery shards of ice hovered between her hands. Of course - ice was formed from water. Did the ice form because she was so cold, or because the room was so cold, or because she desperately needed something to fight with? Whatever. She held hundreds of tiny, wickedly sharp weapons in her hands. She’d take that over puddles any day.
The doorknob turned.
Fight.
Sela faced the door. She wouldn’t be able to do much inside the cage. The bars were too close together. But once they opened the cage . . . Long, wickedly sharp blades flashed in the light. Damn them, were those branding irons?
Her stomach turned upside down and nausea rolled through her. Stomp it down. She squared her shoulders.
Bring it on.
****
Mac vaulted up the ten foot wall. He perched at the top. The moonlight displayed an empty yard surrounding a plain two-story building. One door with a light flashing above and a few windows were the only things that broke up the monotony of the dull brick.
His chest pumped hard. He’d run long and fast. His nostrils flared as he scented the area. No one outside standing watch. Stupid.
His muscles bunched in anticipation of tearing the bastards from limb to limb. Mate afraid. He pushed the thought out of his mind. He needed to retain what little control he had until he found her. If they’d hurt her . . . don’t go there. They were all dead at any rate. They’d dared to take what was his.
Shadows passed by one of the windows on the second floor. Bushes rustled in the woods behind Mac. He inhaled again. Sela was on the second floor.
Mac leapt to the ground and raced over to the
building, digging his claws into the brick wall. He climbed quickly up to the window. Reaching out, he punched through the glass. He gripped the center metal pane and tore the window out, dropping it below him.
Blood dripped from his hand as he grabbed the edge of the windowsill. He jumped through the window. Loud shouts echoed down the hall. Mac ran towards the sounds.
A gunshot rang out. His heart nearly stopped. He heard Sela scream.
My mate. Kill them. Kill them all.
He charged forward. An open door lay ahead. He could see the faint outline of bodies through the doorway. He barreled through the door, dropping several of the men.
Burnt skin and blood filled his nose. Lots and lots of blood. No. Hell, no.
The scene in front of him was utter chaos. Men dressed in black fatigues and a few in white coats, shouted at each other, holding guns, knives and what looked like electric cattle prods. Blood dripped in large quantities from most of their faces and through holes in their chests. It splattered the walls all around them and coated most of the floor. In the center of all this stood a metal cage, the door open. Sela crouched naked on the top.
She was covered in blood, fear and fury. Cuts and burns gleamed over her beautiful body. Her mark glowed brightly. Her hands clawed outward. Defiant. Glorious.
As he watched, her mouth opened and she breathed toward her hands. Immediately tiny shards of something glittered outward in a tight line. The sparkling line slammed across the men in front of her. Blood sprayed in explosive bursts from their faces and chests. Screaming and grabbing at their wounds, the men doubled over. Two went down completely, one missing an eye and the other a section of his face.
A man front of Mac lifted his gun. Mac growled fiercely. He grabbed him by his neck and flung his body across the room. The man landed on top of two others. They all went down as easily as bowling pins.
Mac breathed heavily in the sudden silence. He stalked forward until he stood in front of Sela. He looked down at her from his new altered height. Her eyes widened in fear. He’d known she would fear him, but he hated to see it all the same. She tilted her palms up to face him. Suddenly her back arched and she screamed in pain. The bloody tip of a knife protruded through her shoulder. Mac roared.
Kill them.
Mac caught her around the waist. He placed her in front of the cage, pushing her down until her head was below the top, giving her what slight protection it could.
Gunfire erupted behind him. Bullets thudded into his back. He turned to face the fight, claws and fangs fully extended.
Kill them all.
****
Sela gasped for breath as she pounded her fist on the broad, furry back she was slung over. Her shoulder was on fire, the rest of her body not much better. Blood dripped in an alarming volume from various cuts and scrapes all over. She felt like an oil-slicked seal perched on a giant boulder. She would have fallen off his shoulder by now if it weren’t for the arm wrapped around her waist and her fisted grip on the fur at his waist.
If he didn’t stop soon she was either going to throw up or pee all over him.
She’d been right. The MIBs hadn’t given her a time out for a potty break. They’d been too busy torturing her.
Low branches and bushes broke and slapped in his wake, but she never felt the sting of them. He was protecting her, just like he had back in the torture chamber. She shivered, but not in cold. How could she be cold with all that heat emanating off his body?
She was safe now – she hoped – but her muscles refused to relax. So much blood. Mostly hers – at first. They’d sliced her with the long knives, jabbing them through the bars on all sides. Shallow burning slices and deeper breath-stealing cuts. The branding irons had been the worst. She could still smell her own skin burning. Then they’d made the mistake of opening the cage.
Pay back’s a bitch. And she was the Goddess Supreme in Bitchland. Funny, she’d never really thought she could relish in someone else’s pain. Hell, relish didn’t even come close. More like wallowing in ecstasy. Every scream a balm to her pain, every strike from her ice shards a glorious sight.
Then he had appeared. She didn’t know what he was, other than not human. He was enormous, bigger than Mac and Mac was huge. Plus there were the claws and fangs. His face appeared distorted, almost animalistic, his nose and mouth extended out in a short muzzle. His entire body covered in a thick dark fur that lightened to an almost amber shade on his chest.
And he’d killed every single one of those bastards. For her.
He’d saved her. Whoever he was, he had protected her and saved her. Sela could overlook a lot - fur, fangs and claws included, for the one who had saved her from her worst nightmare.
Sela pounded her fist on his back again, his skin hot under her fist and as unyielding as steel. He stepped over an object in his path, thrusting his shoulder up into her belly. Hoo boy, I need to go.
“Hey,” she gasped. “Put me down. I have to get down.” She released her grip on his fur and used both hands to beat on him. If he didn’t put her down right away . . .
Two large hands gripped her waist and twisted her around until she was cradled in his arms like a small child. He lifted her higher in his arms and lowered his head. Bloody fangs glistened briefly in the bright moonlight. Sela shifted her head slightly, unaware until he began to nuzzle her neck that she had turned towards him instead of away from his fearsome visage.
He ran his muzzle along the tendon at her neck then followed the same path with his tongue. Sela froze. Shocked by both her trust and thoughts and memories of Mac.
Why was she thinking of him? Maybe the torture had snapped her mind? This was not Mac. This was not human. She’d left Mac behind. She had to get that into her head.
Sela jerked away. She really, really needed to go. She stiffened her arms against his chest, putting a few inches between them and braved a look up.
“Look, you need to put me down right now.” She had to ignore the pain, the fangs and the blood. “I have to go . . . to use the . . . damn it, I’ve gotta pee!”
Thankfully the man-beast, for lack of a better term, understood. He set her down and Sela made a beeline for the nearest bush. She peeked at him once to see if he followed but he remained in the same position. His eyes, however, tracked her every movement.
She brushed aside her embarrassment as she took care of matters. Better here than back in that damn cage with the MIBs watching. She used a few leaves after and hoped like hell they weren’t poison ivy.
With her body’s needs finally taken care of, Sela peered at him over the bush. Goose bumps broke out all over her skin in the cold night air. She hissed in reaction to a fresh wave of pain. So cold again. His large body beckoned with the promise of warmth, and strangely, security. Why did she feel secure in his arms?
Granted he had protected her, but why? She didn’t know him. She didn’t even know what he was. She eyed his face. Short muzzle with sharp fangs. Amber eyes slightly slanted and glowing. Ears pointed. Massive body covered completely with dark fur. No clothes. Sela glanced quickly again at the unclothed distinctly male part of him. Every part of him large, thick and hard. And then there were the claws – long, lethal, and bloody.
If she didn’t know better – and of course she did – she’d say he was a werewolf. But werewolves did not exist. They were creatures out of stories. Not human.
Sela winced. Not human. Really, she should know better than anyone that there were people, and obviously things, out there in this world that were more than human. She might not want to face the issue of her own humanity, but she couldn’t run from it anymore. She could control water, for pity’s sake. That strayed far beyond someone with webbed toes or two different colored eyes.
Mac could move so quickly he blurred. Her throat tightened. The irony, oh, the irony. What did she do when she finally met someone, not just someone, but the man to spark her power who was also somehow more than human? She ran. Cut ties and ran, with no explanation and no note
.
Some lessons were just too hard to break.
And now look her. Alone in the woods with Mr. Not-quite-human. And naked. And really cold. Again.
He reached out a large clawed hand and beckoned her.
Sela shook her head. While she might be grateful, rather thrilled and slightly envious that he had killed the MIBs and gotten her out of that hell-hole, she wasn’t ready to leap into his arms.
He had other ideas and she discovered in the next few seconds that size certainly had its advantages.
Cuddled tightly to his chest, his heat invaded her body. Shivers racked her body and his arms tightened with each new bout.
“Home soon,” he rasped.
Well, slap her silly and call her an idiot. She hadn’t even considered that he could talk. What should she say to him?
“Um, what exactly are you?” The words were out before she knew what she was going to say. No take backs. Damn. Thank you for rescuing me - might have been nice. Do you happen to know where I might get some clothes? Definitely up there on her list. Please don’t eat me. That one should be brought up very soon.
“Werewolf.” Yee gads, she’d been right.
It explained his size and strength, the fangs, fur, and claws and his defined and slightly odd musculature. Weirder and weirder, Alice.
“Wow, a real live werewolf,” she beamed at him. No going off the deep end. Just stay with the reality here. “I’ve never met a real live werewolf before.”
He snorted. Mac had snorted at her too. Damn it to hell. This had to stop. She had to stop thinking about Mac. She’d made her choice. No ifs, ands, or, buts there. She had to put that aside.
Stomp it all down and face the facts, Chickie. You can miss him and all the might-have-beens after you get out of here alive. And with all limbs attached.
“So, what do you eat?” The squeak at the end rather ruined her attempt at calm and marginally curious.
“Meat.” His wide grin displayed every single sharp tooth and fang. In the moonlight the blood on those fangs glistened darkly.
Tall, Dark and Furry (The Elementals Book 1) Page 7
