by Leia Shaw
His ability to traverse – or teleport – to any place he’d previously been was the only reason he’d agreed to perform this “small favor” in the first place. Traveling the mortal way held no appeal, especially toting a very breakable, easily killable, drunk-on-her-ass human.
After trying three more times, he gave up with an exhausted sigh. He and the queen would be having a talk soon.
Still no one questioned him as he carried Erin the four blocks to the hotel though he received plenty of odd stares. In the room, he gently laid the girl on the bed.
Scrubbing a hand over his unshaven face, he stared at the body stretched out before him.
Now what? Should he undress her to make her more comfortable for bed? Someone ought to smack him for that thought. If she woke up in a hotel room next to a stranger with nothing on but a bra and panties, she would surely have a fit. As it was, he expected some sort of panic when she awoke. Hopefully, she had more sense than her sister and wouldn’t try anything foolish like attempting to fight him.
He brushed her hair away from her face to inspect the wound at her temple. He’d need to get ice when she awoke, but it didn’t look like a serious injury. Most likely, she was passed out more from being drunk than from getting hit.
Erin’s hair felt silky like Natalia’s. The small reminder made his heart heavy. How he missed her. But the similarities stopped there. Natalia had pale porcelain skin. Erin’s was a shade darker, almost matching her honey-colored hair. Her long lashes spread delicately over her skin.
She was so fragile. So human. So mortal. Yet she’d ventured out, barely dressed, to a rowdy bar with no one to look after her? So foolish!
He growled with an odd sense of protectiveness. It wasn’t his place but he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from giving her a stern lecture about her disregard for safety once she woke.
Leaning closer, he studied the tips of her fingernails. They’d been chewed off. A nail biter. Nasty habit.
His gaze moved down her body and rested on her boots. Best take them off. It might be more comfortable for her to sleep, but more importantly, it would keep her from running. He tossed the boots under the bed.
How long would she remain unconscious? He wanted to feed but wouldn’t risk leaving her alone. He suppressed the urge to shake her awake, command her to stay put, then go in search of a woman to feed from. But he knew from experience, human women did not like being ordered around by men. His queen had taught him that when she’d tried to kill him only a few months ago. And all because he’d forced her to drink blood and steal the throne from her twisted father. Women were so temperamental.
With that in mind, he settled himself onto the bed and plotted the next place he would resume his hunt for Natalia.
Two hours later, the body next to his began to stir. A soft moan broke free from her lips.
When her eyelids fluttered open, he sat up straight and peered down at her. “Be careful. You were hit hard. I’ll get some ice as soon as –”
Her eyes widened into pools of terror.
“Be calm, female. I mean you no harm.” He put his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.
Before he could reassure her with an explanation about Sage, she flew off the bed and bolted into the bathroom then slammed and locked the door.
He was glad he’d grabbed her boots. She was a runner.
Chuckling a bit about the lock, he walked to the bathroom door. A steel door couldn’t stop him from getting through it. Not unless it was silver. Still, the last thing he wanted to do was scare her further.
He knocked. “Come out of there. We need to talk.”
No answer.
Feeling a flicker of frustration, he barely stopped himself from twisting the doorknob and barging in. But she needed reassurance, not a brute showing of strength.
“Your sister, Sage, sent me to see you to safety.”
Still no response.
“Please, open the door. I will not hurt you.” He could hear her heart racing from the other side.
There was a chance she could have a concussion so rather than waiting until it was too late, he took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob, breaking through the lock. If she was scared and mad, so be it. Safety came first.
As soon as he stepped a foot through the bathroom door, a glass vase whizzed towards his head. He barely dodged it before it thudded onto the carpeted bedroom floor.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
Erin stood in the corner, a bottle of sample shampoo clenched in her fist.
He gave her his sternest expression. “Don’t do that again.”
She dropped the bottle and started gasping, dragging air into her lungs as if it were suddenly difficult. Her body slumped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Mierda! She was hyperventilating. He rushed to her side and knelt on the bathroom floor. She flinched away from him.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded.
Her wide eyes darted around the room as if she were searching for invisible threats.
No, not looking for threats. He was the threat. She was looking for an escape.
With a deep breath, he softened his voice and tried to tone down the feral look in his eyes. “I’m sorry I scared you. But I am not going to hurt you. You can trust me.”
Her shallow breathing continued. She looked like she was going to faint any second. At least she’d be easier to deal with.
“Will you not speak to me?” he asked her.
She didn’t respond.
“Do you need medical care? Should I take you to the hospital?”
She shook her head furiously.
“Then calm down so we can talk.”
A tear slid down one cheek as she covered her mouth with trembling hands.
“Aw, hell. Don’t cry.”
“Go…away,” she said between gasping breaths. “Or…my boyfriend…will…kill you.”
He bit back a roar of laughter and pressed his lips into a grim line instead. “I’m sorry, querida. I can’t go away. Sage sent me to protect you. I’ll bring you to her as soon as possible but we need to get a few things straightened out first.”
She continued to hyperventilate so he did the only thing he could think of – he dialed Sage’s number then thrust the phone into Erin’s shaking hands.
“Do you have her? Is she safe?” Sage’s voice rang clear on the other end. When Erin only breathed into the phone, she said, “Erin? Is that you?”
She inhaled sharply. “Yes...” Another gasp then she tried to form a sentence. “Who…who…what…”
“Fuck. I should’ve known this wouldn’t go well. Look, just calm down. I know Marcelo isn’t Mr. Personality but he won’t hurt you.”
Erin continued to breathe raggedly into the receiver.
“Slow down, Dot. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Marcelo will take care of you. I promise. You can trust him with your very life. Just calm down.”
“I’m…trying…”
“Hey, remember when I punched that kid Joey in the face cause he called you a freak? The principle was going to expel me but you convinced him my fist had Tourettes.”
Erin choked on a laugh but the distraction seemed to calm her enough to listen to reason. Though he could hear Sage as clearly as if she were in the room, he kept his concentration on Erin’s eyes. They narrowed, taking him in with skepticism as Sage described his appearance. So mistrustful.
He supposed it was only fair. If she’d had a life similar to Sage’s, then she had every right to be mistrustful.
Once Sage had confirmed who he was, relief washed over her features. He smiled when her heart rate slowed to a steady pace. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his own breath until he finally exhaled.
“I’ll see you soon,” Sage said. “Miss you, Dot.”
“I miss you too.”
She shut the phone then looked up at him with those big brown eyes. He leaned closer. Not brown eyes – amber, with flecks of orange and
black. Captivating.
“Will you speak to me now?”
She shook her head.
“Just one little word?”
She stared at her hands for a long moment, then inhaled deeply and squeaked a meek, “Hi.”
He offered her a comforting smile.
She scooted back an inch.
Guess he needed to work on that. “You’re going to have one hell of a hangover.”
She winced and nodded.
So Sage had been right, partially – Erin was timid. Then why had she been dancing on a bar table? He shrugged. Wasn’t his problem.
“Come then. Let’s get you some coffee. I won’t be bringing you to your sister half dead.”
She took his outstretched hand and he helped her off of the bathroom floor.
“We need to treat your head wound as well. How do you feel standing up? Are you dizzy?”
“I’m fine.” Her voice came out hoarse. She cleared it with a cough.
“I think you’ll be okay. Coffee first. Then I’ll get ice for your head.”
She nodded and pulled on her boots when he handed them to her. Silently, she followed him out the hotel door towards the 24-hour gas station and snack shop across the street.
He smiled to himself. Maybe this would be easier than he’d thought. Although he was still confused about why he hadn’t been able to traverse that night, at least the girl followed directions – not like her sister.
He stepped over a bum passed-out against a garbage can. The store’s florescent lights stood out against the black of night.
Outside the snack shop, Erin froze. “I’ll wait here.”
He shook his head. “You go where I go.” Clearly, she didn’t know the danger she was in. They’d be having a talk about that later.
“Not in there.” She gestured to the store.
“I’m not asking.” He gave her a warning growl. They’d be doing things his way and it was better she understand that now.
“No!” She took one shaky step back.
What the hell is wrong with this girl? “Why not?”
She didn’t answer but she tensed as if she were going to flee.
“Damn it, woman. Tell me!”
She shook her head.
“If you won’t give me answers, I’ll assume you’re being difficult. In which case I’ll throw you over my shoulder and march you in there myself.”
Her skin paled and her eyes went wide as saucers. A wild heartbeat reverberated in his ears. She smelled like fear.
Grasping her elbow, he pulled her down an alley and stopped under a floodlight.
When he let her go, she leaned forward and braced herself with her hands on her knees.
He looked from the store, to her face, then back again. Realization struck. “Are you having a panic attack?”
She cringed and nodded.
“Because of this store?”
Another nod.
“Only this store?”
She gazed up at him, auburn eyes peeking from under thick lashes. Slowly, she shook her head.
“Everywhere?” Gods, please say no.
“Just about.”
“Bloody hell!” He rubbed his hand against his forehead. “Bloody, bloody hell.”
Destiny Unchained
Book 3 – Available Now!
Chapter 1
Crouched on the ground Natalia crept silently through the leaves, her sharp gaze focused on her target. The black wolf blended into the shadows of the thick trees. She’d tracked it by scent. The distinct odor of smoky pine invaded her nostrils. Gods I hate these creatures.
As if it could read her mind the werewolf turned on her and snarled, its teeth gleaming in the darkness. The growl would’ve sent the toughest human screaming through the forest. But nothing scared her. Especially not some barely out of the cave Cro-Magnon that sprouted fur and fangs once in a while.
She tightened her muscles ready to spring at the beast. A husky male voice sounded from behind her.
“Don’t even think about it, vampire.”
She stiffened but kept still, a vision of confidence. Three men stepped out of the trees, each with an arrow trained on her. Well, if it isn’t Robin Hood and his merry men.
“Put your weapons on the ground,” the werewolf ordered. “Kick them toward me.”
She made no move to obey. “Bow and arrow? How archaic.”
“It’s effective. Want a demonstration?”
She gave no reply.
“Didn’t think so. Weapons. All of them. I know you have at least a dozen on you. You reek of metal and rust.” His lips curled in amusement. “Who do you think you are, The Terminator?”
Two of the werewolves chuckled. The blonde on her right was eerily silent, but his gaze never left her face. A flash of gold on his coat caught her eye. A badge. Rangers? Werewolves worked at Yellowstone as rangers?
The werewolf interrupted her thoughts. “Don’t make the mistake of testing us, vampire. My patience is dwindling.” He said the word “vampire” with a sneer that would’ve offended her if she’d cared what anyone thought of her.
She reached down to her calf to grab the first knife, holstered under her fitted leather pants. The werewolf’s voice stopped her.
“Slowly,” he commanded.
She nodded, showing full cooperation. When she had the knife in her grasp, the familiar feel of cold metal on her skin, she flung it at the werewolf to her left, lodging it deep into his throat. Natalia leapt into the air avoiding the first of the arrows released. Upon landing she lunged for the nearest archer reloading his bow. She kicked him in the chest, commandeering his arrow. With an easy toss it landed in the black wolf as it sprung toward her. A savage yelp echoed in the forest. She smiled inside.
Her feet were swept out from under her and she landed on her ass but deftly jumped back up. She ducked under the first flying fist. A werewolf could usually beat her in an arm-wrestling match but they had nothing on her speed. Grabbing his arm when he swung at her again, she used his momentum to send him stumbling across the terrain. With him off balance, it was easy to snap his neck. His body slumped in a heap on the ground.
She spun to face the last werewolf. An arrow sliced through the air a fraction of a second before she could react. Pain erupted in her chest. Burning agony overwhelmed her senses. It took some effort to maintain her usual calm. She looked down. Nothing more disturbing than seeing a pointy weapon lodged in your chest. Especially knowing it would hurt like a bitch when she pulled it out.
She frowned at her assailant. “I really liked this shirt.”
The silent blonde stood perfectly still, mimicking her earlier vision of confidence. Only it looked better on him.
Finding a werewolf attractive? That’s new.
She lifted an arm to pull the arrow out, gritting her teeth at the expected explosion pain. Her limbs felt heavy. Her knees wobbled and her mind thickened with fog.
Poison arrow.
Shit.
She collapsed on the ground, her captor’s heavy boots her last vision before she faded.
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