by Kathy Lyons
She kicked back as hard as she could, but the door was solid. She tried to scramble upright while her shoulders screamed, and she tried to wriggle her hands free.
It was useless. And then he was in the front seat, turning the ignition, and slamming the car into gear as he pulled out of the parking lot. Didn’t anyone hear her? She was lying sideways on the seat and screaming with every breath.
“Help! Help! Help!”
He didn’t even flinch. Damn it, why hadn’t she noticed he was right by the far exit? It was late at night. No one heard her bellowing except him.
Fine. She’d bring her feet around and kick the back of his seat. Anything to disrupt him. And maybe she could get her hands on the door handle.
“Help!” Her words were a constant scream. Damn it! She kicked hard against the back of his seat.
He grunted, but that was it. He just kept driving. No time to waste. They were traveling farther and farther from the hospital.
“Help! Help! Help!”
It was awkward as hell, but she twisted on the seat. Pushed with her knees and…there! She fingered the car door handle and pulled. And pulled again. And pulled.
Nothing.
And now she was out of breath, gasping as she pulled in air.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was calm and filled with an apology that might have touched her if she weren’t being abducted.
She hauled on the door handle again. Hell. The child protection lock was on. No way was she getting out from the backseat. Fine, she’d just climb into the front. Or maybe she’d head-butt him hard enough to knock him unconscious. Something. Anything.
She fell backward as he accelerated onto the freeway.
“I’ve got information on the Detroit Flu.”
She saw the headlights of another car. She was flat on her back on the seat, but at the sight of the headlights, she put extra force into screaming. If she could just get her feet around, maybe she could break the passenger window.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice cutting in whenever she had to draw breath. “I’ve got data. Information.”
“Help! Help!”
“You have to calm down.”
Her wrists were slick and painful. Blood? Sweat? She didn’t know and didn’t care. She drew back and shoved her feet outward as hard as she could against the window.
Like hitting a brick wall.
She did it again. Nothing.
“We’re trying to do the right thing,” he said. “You’re the CDC. You need this data.”
She kicked her feet again. WTF? Why wouldn’t the window break?
“I just want to give you the data. Then I’ll take you back to the hospital.”
She wasn’t screaming anymore. All her concentration was on slamming her feet into the window, which would not break. Her heart was pounding, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Why the hell wouldn’t the damn window break?
“What’s your email? I’ll email you the data.”
She didn’t want to listen to him. She didn’t want to hear his world-weary tone or his false promises that he wouldn’t hurt her. Except, of course she did. She wasn’t escaping. And head-butting him while they were on the freeway going sixty was a quick way to suicide. But most of all, he kept saying weird things. Stuff that she didn’t expect to come from an abductor. Who kidnapped a woman then asked to send data to her email?
She stared at him, her breath coming in short, gasping pants through her burning throat. She couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly. But when she stared at him, he was holding up his phone.
“Your email address, Dr. Lu. Spell it for Siri, please.”
She frowned. He had a message app open with the microphone turned on.
“You want my email address?”
“I’ll text it to my boss. He’ll email you the data. They sent it to me, but I can’t email and drive.”
“Abduction is a felony. It carries the death penalty.”
“No, it doesn’t. And Michigan abolished the death penalty in 1846. One of the few good things about this state.”
Great. Her abductor had a wry sense of humor.
“Life in prison sucks, too,” she said. “Most people say it’s worse.”
“Nah. Death is always worse.” His gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. “At least it is for me. I can survive just about anything.”
She believed it. Something about the flatness in his expression had her believing he’d seen a lot worse things than she could even imagine. And while she was processing that, he set his phone down.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Dr. Lu. I swear. But we’re not exactly normal people here, so we didn’t know how to get you this information. People are dying. We’re trying to help.”
“So you abduct the nearest doctor?”
He huffed out his breath. “I went to the CDC. I was looking for Dr. Hayes.”
“He bailed. To DC.”
He snorted. “Figures. So yeah, I grabbed you. You were awake and right there. But only to make you believe and to give you the data. Now will you please spell your email address for Siri?”
God, he seemed so reasonable. But why the hell hadn’t he just asked for her email address at the hospital? “You didn’t have to throw me into your car for my email address.”
“You have to see the truth before you believe the data. Please?” He tilted the phone at her. And damn it, it wasn’t like she could kick out his car window and leap out. She’d tried. And that’s when she realized why.
“Bulletproof windows?”
“Yes.”
Hell. Who ran around Detroit with bulletproof windows? Gangsters, drug lords, anyone who lived near 8 Mile assuming they could afford it. She swallowed. Just whom was she dealing with?
“We’re trying to help, Dr. Lu.”
She nodded and pitched her voice to his phone, spelling out her email address so that it appeared in full on the screen.
“Thank you,” he said as he hit send. “They’ll send you all the data they’ve got.”
She blew out a breath. “Okay. So take me back—”
“Well, here’s the thing. You’re not going to believe any of it until you see for yourself. Like really see.”
She sighed, reluctantly starting to believe his tale. Obviously, he was involved in crime of some sort. He’d zip tied her with professional speed and had bulletproof windows. And since the CDC had already figured out that whatever was causing the Detroit Flu was most likely man-made, it stood to reason that a criminal element might have information they didn’t.
“Data is data,” she said. “We don’t have to see anything but the numbers. If it’s repeatable then we don’t care where it came from.”
She watched his mouth tighten. He didn’t say anything, just waited her out. In fact, it was the exact expression she used when her aunts started talking to her about how to catch a husband. She pressed her lips together, assumed a fake expression of interest, and waited until they finished with their nonsense.
“Do you even know how real science works? If it’s a real lead, you just have to send it to us. We’ll look at it.”
“Because you always open files from strange email addresses.”
Okay, so he had a point. “Fine. You have my email address. Take me back to the hospital and I’ll look at it.”
“You have to see first. Otherwise, you won’t believe.”
She snorted. “Let me guess. Weird body changes. Hair. Claws, even dental. Look, we’ve seen the disfigurements—”
“Shape-shifters, Dr. Lu. The Detroit Flu activates shifter DNA. Full shifters go adrenaline-rush crazy. Normal people just feel sick and hallucinate for a bit. But those with only some shifter DNA? They become different. Hybrids, if they don’t die from the stress.”
Ah hell, she’d been kidnapped by a crazy person. Then she snorted. Of course, he was crazy. He was a kidnapper!
“Werewolves. Bear-shifters. Cat-shifters. All of them exist.
And yeah, I know you don’t believe me, which is why you have to see. But I can’t shift while driving my car so I’m taking you somewhere safe to show you.”
No sense arguing. She needed to focus only on the true details in his crazy reality. “Where? Where is safe?”
“The Griz have a central—”
His words were cut off as his phone vibrated. He grunted under his breath, then frowned. She saw it distinctly as he cut her a hard look.
“Make a sound—any sound—and I’ll knock you unconscious. Got it?”
His expression was fierce, and she immediately nodded. Let the crazy person think that she was cooperating, but was she really going to be quiet? When the person on the other end of the line might be able to save her?
She was still undecided because, honestly, she absolutely believed he could knock her out. Quickly, quietly, and probably while driving at sixty miles an hour. But maybe that was a chance she was willing to take. Until his very first word as he pressed the phone to his ear.
“Mother?”
Damn it. Any woman who had raised a crazy kidnapper was not going to help the kidnappee. She grimaced and adjusted her position on the seat. He was just pulling off the freeway. Maybe she could use his distraction—and his slower speed—to engineer some kind of escape. Though one look at the neighborhood had her gut tightening in fear. This did not look like a neighborhood where she should be wandering around alone after dark. Or in full daylight.
Meanwhile, Hank—if that was his real name—growled low and deep in his throat. It was a dark animal sound, and it made goose bumps rise on her skin.
“Get out. Get out now!”
Cecilia’s gaze shot to him. He wasn’t looking at her but at the road as he abruptly spun the car around in a hard U-turn. She saw his hand grip the steering wheel and his jaw clenched in his large, square face. It was the side with the scar on it, and she watched the jagged edge of it pulse under the sporadic streetlights.
“Fine. Then bar the door.” Pause. “With a table! Anything. Hell, get everything! I’m coming.”
And he was coming. He ran straight through the stop sign and back up onto the freeway. Before he’d been going a respectable sixty miles per hour, heading toward seventy. Now he blew past that and she watched in horror as he topped eighty. She was sure he’d have gone faster, but he was already taking the off ramp. She was up now and braced against the car door so she could read the signs.
She wasn’t a native of the city, but even she knew this was not a good area. And yet, he was torpedoing down the streets like it was safe. Or perhaps like he was the baddest person around. And then he started talking. It took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her because his tone was so casual. And even then, she had to replay his words in her head just to make sure she’d heard him correctly.
“So you’re going to get that demonstration differently, Dr. Lu. I’ve got a situation here, and it’s dangerous. We’re going to Mother’s house. Not my mother, but a woman who takes in shifter strays. We all look out for her because being a shifter kid is hard, and she’s been there for us no matter the breed.” He sighed. “I know you don’t believe any of this, but one of her kids is in trouble and I’m going to help. I’ll undo your restraints, but I promise you, if you run, you’ll find a whole lot worse trouble outside.”
Cecilia nodded and tried to smile with genuine warmth. It probably came out more like humor-the-crazy-person because he rolled his eyes. Weird that, given he was speeding down the street straight through red lights and everything.
“I’m not crazy. This is real.”
“I believe you,” she lied.
“And it’s dangerous.”
“Right.” Her gaze cut to the apocalyptic neighborhood. “Dangerous.”
“Yeah. And it has werewolves, too.”
Of course, it did. Which is why she resolved to run as far and as fast as she could the second he stopped the car.
Chapter 3
Hank glared at the woman zip-tied in his backseat. She didn’t believe him. And she was planning to run the minute he parked.
Damn it, why had Simon ordered him to do this? No non-shifter doctor would listen. She might as well have pulled her white lab coat right over her eyes. She’d labeled him a lunatic the minute he’d mentioned shifters, which was apparently even worse than kidnapper because at least she’d been willing to talk when he was just a criminal. After the screaming, that is. Damn, what a set of lungs she had.
Didn’t matter. Mother was having a crisis and he was two blocks away.
“Don’t fight me on this, Cecilia. It’s too dangerous.” He used her first name to see if that made a difference. He’d gone with “Dr. Lu” when he was trying to be deferential. Educated people tended to like that, but he could already tell she wasn’t susceptible to flattery. So he was trying to be friendly.
No go. She just smiled that false smile and was clearly counting the seconds until she could run. Which meant he had two seconds to come up with a new plan because he was arriving at Mother’s right now.
He pulled into the driveway, slamming the car to a stop. They were in werewolf territory and who knew how many of the dogs had drunk the tainted water. Simon had put out the word as soon as he could, but bears and dogs in Detroit did not get along. Hadn’t for generations. Knowing these wolves, they probably liked the aggression rush the tainted tap gave to full-blooded shifters.
He glanced at the night sky. Nearly a full moon. Just what they needed…not. Though the wolves claimed they didn’t react to the phase of the moon, Mother had called bullshit on that years ago. And she lived in the thick of it, so she would know.
He hit the send button on his phone. No words in the text but Mother would know he was outside and pull open her door. Which meant it was time to run. But first, he popped open the big blade on his Swiss army knife.
He heard Cecilia gasp and he shot her a hard look. “Extend your feet to the door. Be ready to run.”
Her eyes widened and once again, he regretted the fear he’d put on her face. Damn it, he was not a man to terrorize innocent scientists. He popped open his car door, took a deep whiff of Detroit air as it mixed with wet dog, and rushed to her door.
She was ready; her legs were extended and she had a fixed smile on her face. He could feel her tension in the air and see the twitch of her gaze as she looked past him to where she meant to run. It would be a bad choice. There wasn’t a cop around for miles and plenty of regular human trouble she could get into on the way. Even worse, he smelled werewolf thick in the air. Damn it, they were too close.
He grabbed her ankles and slit the plastic in one quick move. Then he grabbed her by the waist and helped her scramble out of the car. The minute her feet touched pavement, she took off.
Or at least she tried. He still had a hand around her waist and when she surged forward, it was just the momentum he needed to throw her over his shoulder. She screamed and kicked as he moved—double time—to Mother’s front door, all the while keeping his eye out for werewolves. Given the way she was wailing, she was going to attract the whole damn pack.
He hit the front porch and Mother swung open the door. Her eyes were huge in her weathered face, but she stepped out of the way while he barreled through. Then she slammed and bolted the door with a speed one wouldn’t expect given her age.
“Help! Help!”
“Shut up, you damn fool!” Mother snapped as Hank set Cecilia down on her feet. He wasn’t too gentle about it because she’d just nailed him in the center of his sternum. Her knees buckled enough that she tumbled backward onto the couch. She was going to leap up again but he kept a hand in the center of her chest. And—damn it—he was human enough to feel the soft mounds of her breasts. It was a damn shame that this was the first time he’d touched a woman’s breasts in nearly two years, but he also felt the way her pulse beat like a frightened rabbit. She took a deep breath, obviously prepared to scream again, but he shoved her hard enough to cut it off.
&nb
sp; “Stop it or I’ll gag you,” he said.
He didn’t think she would listen, but then Mother racked her shotgun and aimed it straight at Cecilia.
“Why would you bring a damned fool here?” Mother demanded.
“Jesus, Mother, aim that outside.” Hank stretched his hand back, knocking the shotgun toward the window.
“I’ll aim that where I want in my house,” she said pulling it right back to Cecilia’s pale face. “And if she don’t shut up—”
“She’s a doctor. She’s going to help fix things.”
“She can’t help if she gets us all kill—”
Roar.
It’s hard to describe a grizzly roar up close. To someone who’s never heard it, it’s like putting your face right next to a locomotive as it speeds by. But even that is just a machine. Loud and overwhelming, but still impersonal. A grizzly roar is damned personal. It contains threat and fury headed straight at you. It can be felt in the vibration against your ribs and in every hair on your body.
And that’s what all three of them felt. A roar coming straight from the door behind the couch. Obviously, Mother had slid the couch in front of the basement door to block it. And now that he took a second to look around, he saw that she’d shoved the kitchen table and a couple chairs against the far end of the couch, too. Not that any of that would stop a mature grizzly from getting through. Fortunately, this particular bear-shifter was very young. First shift, to be exact. And that made the creature a little smaller and a lot more unpredictable.
Meanwhile, Cecilia scrambled off the couch. He let her, though it was only to pin her against the wall.
“What was that?” she gasped.
“The reason we’re here,” he snapped as they heard claws scratching at the basement door. Then he looked to Mother. “How long has that been going on?”
“Just quieted down until she started screeching.” Mother slowly tilted her shotgun to the floor.
“And the wolves?” he asked, his gaze cutting to the window. It was dark as far as he could see, but that could change at any moment.
“They been howling all night, but none real close.” She shot Cecilia a hard look. “Unless they heard her. Then we’re going to have werewolves up our ass thanks to you. And right now, ain’t none of them being too reasonable.”
