Going the Distance

by Mandy M. Roth

  “Jason, don’t do this.” She exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself. It didn’t work.

  “Don’t do what?” He tossed his hands in the air. “Don’t ask if being with an animal is better than being with me? The man who loves you. He doesn’t even know you, Carri. He’s attracted to you because nature says he should be. I don’t buy into that destiny bullshit.”

  She gasped. “Destiny?”

  He snorted. “Yeah, mates or whatever the hell it is his kind call them. The doctors told me Padgett could heal you easily because of who he is to you. I didn’t buy it and I don’t accept it. You’re mine. Plain and simple.”

  She backed away, running out of room to move. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

  That wasn’t necessarily true and she knew it, but bringing up Quinn seemed like an extraordinarily bad idea at the moment.

  “Think again, sugar,” a deep familiar voice said from across the room.

  Quinn stood tall, his head partially lowered, staring out from eyes he knew were icy blue. When he’d returned to find his cousin unconscious on the lobby floor, he knew instantly that Mickens had found Carri. The time he’d spent away from her, meeting with his family, assuring them he was safe and explaining where he’d been, had given him time to think, time to understand the jumble of emotions welling in him.

  His gaze collided with hers from the other side of the room. A clear understanding settled over him.

  You’re mine, woman, and I’ll do anything to assure you stay that way.

  “If you think for one second she’s leaving here with you, you’re wrong,” Quinn said evenly, already knowing he had the upper hand. “She’s not yours.”

  Mickens grunted. “Why? You pee on her leg?”

  Quinn’s gaze slid to Carri. He knew he had a lot to apologize for but he wasn’t exactly known for pouring his heart out. “I claimed her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Her forehead crinkled and a question formed on her face.

  Mickens yelled something inaudible before turning and aiming a weapon at Carri. “She’s mine.”

  Time seemed to slow as Quinn raced forward. His eyes fixed on the gun, he let the wolf guide his actions. Claws emerged from his fingertips and fur sprouted forth on his lower arms.

  To his shock, Mickens showed signs of shifting forms as well. His hands widened, bristly fur appearing. The sound of bones cracking filled the room as did Mickens screams. Spittle dripped from his chin. A second row of teeth showed. They were jagged, cutting into Mickens’ lower lip. Crimson blood oozed from his mouth, the color matching that of his eyes as he snarled.

  He made no move to subdue Mickens. He stared at him, stunned that the man who hated everything Quinn was, was now something even more. He was, in every sense of the word, an animal.

  Pity formed deep in Quinn’s belly. He went at Mickens, his intention merely to render him unconscious so the scientists he was so fond of could hunt for a cure for whatever the man had done to himself.

  Mickens struck out fast, scoring a direct hit to Quinn, knocking him up and off his feet. Quinn hit the wall hard, the air in his lungs swooshing out upon impact. Vaguely, he heard Carri yelling for him. He knew then Mickens would kill her. That the man was too far gone to ever pull back enough to refrain from harming Carri. Quinn knew something else too.

  It was time to accept the shifter side of himself once more, as he had prior to being held captive. Fully embracing his heritage and his destiny was the only thing that would work now.

  Quinn centered himself, took a deep breath and focused on the beast he shared his body with. They came to an understanding.

  Protect our mate no matter what.

  Fur sprouted over his hands and lower arms. His upper body mass increased enough to cause his T-shirt to begin to tear. Quinn panted, his senses honing in on Mickens. He could smell the man’s fear, his hate, his determination to win. It was no rival for Quinn’s own.

  Mickens had seen to it that Quinn fully understand what it was like to participate in a fight to the death and this certainly qualified. Never had a fight mattered more. The outcome didn’t just affect Quinn’s life but Carri’s as well. Dying wasn’t an option. It was time the pupil turned on the teacher. After all, the student came by his ability to kill naturally. The abomination before him did not.

  Quinn went for the kill, just as the wolf wanted. His claws connected with the flesh of Mickens’ neck and he thrust the man away, shielding Carri’s body with his, preventing blood from getting on her.

  He panted, his chest heaving with fury as Mickens fell to the floor, unmoving. No longer a threat.

  The men who had arrived with him quickly found themselves surrounded. Quinn glanced up at his cousin and nodded. “Thank you.”

  Crosby held a clawed hand to a man’s throat, all the while watching Quinn. “Not a problem, man. Say the word and these guys don’t live to tell the tale.” He nodded to the other werewolves in the room. “What do you say we take them for a nice long walk?”

  “Off a short pier?” a young were asked with a grin on his face.

  “Nah,” another said. “Let’s just eat ’em.”

  The men paled and Crosby laughed. “Gets the humans every time, doesn’t it.”

  They cleared the room, taking Mickens’ body with them as they went. Crosby stopped in the doorway. “I have men on the way to the warehouses.”

  “You won’t find anything,” Quinn supplied, already knowing how the operation worked. If any of the backers felt threatened, they packed up shop and changed locations. Until they slipped up again, they’d be like ghosts on the wind, always thought of, never seen.

  Crosby grimaced. “I suspected as much but we still need to try. I can’t even imagine how many more of us are being held like you were.” He exited, looking worn and weary.

  Quinn kept his back to Carri.

  She touched his shoulder. “Quinn?”

  He remained in place.

  “What does claiming me mean?”

  He sighed. “That according to the law of my people,” he stalled a moment, “you’re my wife.”

  Her silence worried him. He’d overheard the remarks Mickens had made, hating how right the man had been. It wasn’t as though Quinn really knew Carri, and he had brought her to a dump. She was accustomed to better and deserved more. “If you want, I can take you to my place. Crosby said they kept it the way it was because they couldn’t agree on getting rid of it. He tells me that my finances are all still in order. I can give you the life you want, Carri.”

  She ran her fingers over the back of his neck and into his hair. “Look at me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  Because when it comes to you, I’m a coward.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Quinn,” she said softly. “I don’t care about your money. I care about you. There wasn’t a night that went by since I met you in the alley that I haven’t thought of you. You’re more than I imagined or ever hoped for.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded, emotions lodged in his throat. “Yeah, umm, back at you.”

  She moved around and stood before him, her palms on his chest. “Back at you?”

  Blinking, he licked his lips, staring down at the beauty who was his wife. “I’m not sure what to say here.”

  “How about I think I can learn to like you?” she prompted, the gleam in her eyes impish. “Or, I can possibly see myself spending more than a night with you?”

  She was baiting him hook, line and sinker and dammit if he didn’t enjoy every second of it. “Or…”

  Quinn caught her around the waist and lifted her off her feet. He put his lips close to hers. “How about I go with something else. Something like, Carri, I think I love you.”

  “You think you love me?” she teased.

  He winked. “Oh, yeah. I think I do.”

  She grinned. “Good because I think I love you too.”

  Epilogue

  Carri laug
hed and leaned back in her chair, content with the scene before her. Her husband and Crosby were standing in a boxing ring, holding a pair of tiny, pink boxing gloves. The person in the middle barely came to their thighs, but her hands on her hips gave her all the sass in the world.

  “Why do I gotta wear pink gloves, Daddy?” she asked, her blue gaze planted firmly on her father.

  Quinn bent, kissing her forehead. “I’d rather you not wear any, darlin’, but Mommy seems to think you should learn how to defend yourself.”

  “She’s four,” Crosby added with a smirk. “How much damage could she do?”

  The little girl grabbed the gloves from her father’s hands and they slipped, slamming straight into Crosby’s groin. He doubled over and Quinn lifted the little girl high in the air. “That’s my girl. Yeah. He won’t question you again, will he?”

  “No, Daddy,” she mused. “He won’t.”

  Quinn glanced at Carri and flashed a proud smile. “She’s a natural.”

  Rubbing, her stomach, Carri nodded. She moved in the chair a bit, trying to find a comfortable position with as pregnant as she was. “So is your son. He’s doing a number on my ribs as we speak.”

  “Uh-oh,” Quinn whispered to their daughter before setting her down to play with Crosby. He moved with speed and skill, up and over the ropes of the ring. Suddenly, he was in front of her, touching her stomach. “My little man better behave himself. His sister has a mean right hook.”

  Carri put her hand over her husband’s and stared up at him, wondering if this was the life he wanted.

  “It is,” he replied as if reading her mind. He bent and kissed her passionately. “I love you, woman.” He paused, exhaling slowly against the soft press of her mouth. When he glanced around the gym with a faraway look in his eyes, she knew what he was thinking about.

  The others, like him, who were still being held against their will.

  She touched his cheek. “You and Crosby have freed so many men already.”

  “But the organizers stay one step ahead of us,” he confessed. “The last group we tried to break up turned out to be willing fighters.”

  She held her breath, still shocked by the news that some of the people involved in the deathmatches actually wanted to be there. “I love you and I know you’ll get the rest out. The ones who don’t belong there.”

  About the Author

  To learn more about Mandy M. Roth please visit www.mandyroth.com. Send an email to Mandy at mandy@mandyroth.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Mandy_M_Roth/join

  Look for these titles by Mandy M. Roth

  Now Available:

  Loup Garou

  Sacred Places

  Sacred Places

  Goddess of the Grove

  Talons Anthology

  King of Prey

  King of Prey

  A View to a Kill

  Droid Wars

  Performance Criteria

  Magnetic Attraction

  No matter how many light years you run, the past is never far behind.

  Magnetic Attraction

  © 2008 Mandy M. Roth

  Tired of a life on the run, Kiwi has put down roots on a science vessel. She finds more than she bargained for in the form of cocksure, overachieving, too-sexy-for-his-own-good Dr. Conell Ballou. His arrogance is infuriating—which, strangely, makes her want him more.

  Since the tiny spitfire of a mechanic boarded his vessel, Conell hasn’t been able to focus on much of anything except her. Kiwi’s mere presence pulses through every synthetic and humanoid part of his body. And, unknown to both Kiwi and Conell, her past is entwined with his.

  But a deranged captain of the Vanos, the alien race from which they’re defending mankind, is still hunting for Kiwi. Against all the odds, Conell and Kiwi have a second chance at happiness—if the enemy doesn’t find them first.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Magnetic Attraction:

  The bar was darker than many others she’d been in and the second she spotted a long stage, she understood what type of bar it was—a strip club.

  “Ballou, you brought me to a…” The question died on her lips as a nearly naked man walked onstage, twirling sticks of fire as he did some sort of ritualistic dance, thumping his body along the way.

  Conell waved his hand before her face. “Eyes on me, Kiwi.”

  A giggle erupted from her. “Okay, but can you twirl fire while wearing nothing but a loincloth? That’s damn hard to beat.”

  Before he could answer, a sexy, part-humanoid female approached, carrying a tray of drinks. She spoke and her voice carried with it a buzz, charging the air. Kiwi had heard of species that could induce sexual desire with nothing more than their voice. She kept a keen eye as the men immediately surrounding them stopped what they were doing and stared at the woman with longing looks. Conell, on the other hand, merely glanced at her, grabbed two of the house drinks from the tray and nodded his thanks.

  The pale blue lighting splashed over his squared face. Kiwi reached past the drink he held out to her and straight to his jaw. She touched it lightly, her fingers brushing his lips before jerking to her senses and pulling her hand away.

  Conell bent, putting a drink in her hand. The edges of his full lips twitched and Kiwi knew he was fighting a smile. Taking the drink from him, she averted her gaze, hoping he’d avoid mentioning how she’d caressed him for no reason.

  She took a large gulp of the drink and stiffened as it burned its way down her throat. She coughed and Conell laughed. “Did you poison me?”

  “Hardly,” he said, his face suddenly closer to hers. “But, I should warn you. The drinks they serve here are laced with something that acts as a type of aphrodisiac to the Vanos and several other races. Don’t worry, straight humans aren’t included, but you should keep an eye on me. If I start getting a little too…” he grinned, “…fresh, feel free to use that arm of yours to knock me on my ass.”

  Kiwi froze. One of the many secrets she’d spent so long keeping nagged at her. She wasn’t a full human. She was like Conell, half-Vanos, though it was difficult to believe because she lacked almost all the traits used to visually identify one.

  “Conell.”

  “Yes?” He took a sip of her drink.

  She watched as he swallowed, the muscles in his neck moving. Kiwi decided to let fate do what it wanted, at least for tonight. Tomorrow was another day.

  Conell headed to the back of the bar and she stayed close on his heels. When he settled into a darkened corner booth, she followed, easing in alongside him. Her gaze went to the fire dancer and she realized he no longer had on a loincloth. He now twirled his sticks of fire while completely naked. His cock was flaccid, yet large and his body looked to be carved from stone.

  Her eyes widened. “If he’s not careful, he’ll lose something vital.”

  Conell’s deep laugh reverberated through her and she found herself leaning, resting her body against his as she sipped her drink. He didn’t protest but rather drank, watching the show. When a set of female dancers joined the naked male, Kiwi tensed, a spike of jealously flaring through her. She didn’t want Conell looking at naked women. She wanted him looking at her.

  At me? I’ve lost my mind.

  Conell’s hand brushed over hers and Kiwi gulped, their gazes colliding. She didn’t jerk her hand away. She left it in place, enjoying the feel of his thumb easing back and forth on it.

  Another sexy waitress approached with a tray of drinks, taking Conell’s almost-empty one and replacing it with a full. Kiwi stared in awe as he downed the second drink quickly.

  “Uh, Ballou, you do realize if you go nuts and try to hump one of the women here, I’m not strong enough to get you under control—droid arm or not. You’re huge.”

  With a wag of his brows, he put his face close to hers. “So, what you’re saying is, I’m too much for you to handle?”

  She knew what he meant and instead of blushing
like she normally would have, she met his gaze head-on. “I’m tougher than I look, Ballou.”

  The bizarre music pumping throughout the club reached new heights and Kiwi stared at the stage, unable to believe what she was seeing. The female dancers were on their knees, taking turns licking the male dancer’s long cock as he continued to twirl sticks of fire high in the air. She couldn’t tear her gaze away as they stroked the man, fondling his sac, then his shaft, seeming to live for the act.

  Conell touched her chin, forcing her gaze to him. “If I would have known you’d be so interested in him, I wouldn’t have brought you here. I’d have picked a different bar.” His jaw clenched. “Kiwi, you may need to call some of the crew over here soon.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if I see you looking at that guy on stage again, while I sense how fucking turned on you are, I am going to kill him.”

  She grabbed his hand. “Hey, I was just watching the show.”

  “How about…” He put his face close to hers and she could smell the drink upon his breath. “You keep those brown eyes on me instead.” His mouth covered hers and everything else faded away. Their tongues laced and Kiwi found herself inching towards him, practically crawling on his lap. This was so wrong but felt so right. She shouldn’t get attached or allow whatever was between them to escalate to this level. She needed to have no strings in her life. It made running much easier and kept everyone around her safe. Already she’d formed a friendship with Aeron. Sex with Conell would take complicated to a completely new level.

  The thoughts in her head were rational. The movements of her body, of her mouth were anything but. She found herself gripping the back of his neck, returning his kiss with so much passion it shocked her.

  He lifted her, setting her on his lap as his hands found their way to her backside. Heat ignited deep within her and a light sheen of sweat broke out over her skin. She attributed it, and her overwhelming desire, to the drink. She swept her tongue over his, moaning.