Things That Go Bump In the Night 2004

by Ashleigh Raine

  He’d come back.

  * * * * *

  Rik lay in the darkness with his eyes closed. He never should have returned, but he couldn’t resist her. He’d spent the day crisscrossing town on any number of wild goose chases while in constant contact with the Hunters who were also looking for Lyn. So far the wily bastard had eluded all of them.

  Tired and frustrated, all he could think of was seeing Char, touching her face, kissing her lips and hearing her laugh. He was scheduled to meet with the Council, a crazed werewolf was on the loose in New Orleans, and he was hanging out in her bed, in her arms.

  He definitely wasn’t thinking straight.

  He needed to get up and make a plan but he couldn’t quite bring himself to move. He was warm, comfortable and Char’s lush backside cradled his cock. What more could a were-cat ask for?

  The soft beep of his phone jolted him into movement. He snatched the phone from his pants and looked at the display. Someone had sent him a text message: Lyn located. Meet us at Gautier’s and let’s rumble.

  Rik checked the text message sender. It was Marcus. He rolled from the bed and reached for his clothing. He was only about fifteen minutes from the Gautier warehouse, as long as he ignored the traffic signals.

  He laced up his leather pants and shoved his feet into his boots. Grabbing his jacket, he headed for the window.

  Hopefully, within the hour they’d subdue Lyn and Char would be safe.

  Rik slipped out the window as silently as he entered, and by the time he reached his car, was in full Hunter mode.

  * * * * *

  Char wasn’t sure what woke her. She gave a noisy yawn and her eyes flicked open. The silence of the apartment was oppressive and very unusual. Even on the quietest nights she heard some street noise from Bourbon Street only a few blocks away—

  Unease washed over her and she sat up. Steph wasn’t snoring and the other half of her bed was cold. She glanced at the clock. It was a little after three a.m. Where was Rik? She slipped out of bed and picked up her robe from the floor. Maybe he went into the kitchen for a snack.

  She frowned when she noticed the open bedroom door. She’d closed it when she’d gone to bed in a vague attempt to drown out Steph’s snores. Not that it had helped much, as she was sure the neighbors could’ve heard him.

  She stepped into the living room. The couch was empty and the blanket and pillow were tossed on the floor. She rolled her eyes and picked them up. Men! Why were they always pigs? She dropped them on the couch before heading toward the kitchen.

  She turned the light on and her heart stopped when she saw Steph laying face down on the floor, a pool of blood spreading near his head.

  “Oh my God,” she reached for him. “Steph?” A movement in the shadows caught her attention.

  Near the back door was a large, hulking figure in black leather with his back to her. For a split second she thought it was Rik, until he turned around. The overhead light caught on the stainless steel Asp baton he held in his hand. The stranger twirled it as if he were a cheerleader. When he smiled, long, wicked canine teeth emerged from between his lips.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  * * * * *

  Rik knew the Gautier warehouse complex like the back of his hand. It was a series of dilapidated docks and warehouses that had been abandoned in the early nineteen fifties. Its secluded location made it a popular spot for all sorts of preternatural mischief. There was no better place for a pack of mangy werewolves to hang out.

  He slipped in the side door of the warehouse, and almost immediately his senses detected the presence of several other preternaturals, most of them wolves and a few cats.

  Taking cover in the labyrinth of wooden packing crates, he made his way to the center of the warehouse. The lights were on overhead and the silence was broken only by the slither of metal against metal and the beat of his own heart.

  Rik peered through a gap in the boxes and he had a clear view of the center of the warehouse. Lyn stood near an iron railing overlooking a water-filled pit. Years ago, the pit had been used for bootlegging and before that, slavery. It opened directly onto the waterway and small, fast boats could slip under the pier to be loaded with liquor or slaves. When the building had been closed, the pit was sealed and now the water was black and stagnant.

  “We wondered when you’d deign to join us,” Lyn called out.

  Rik stepped into the open. A few feet away from Lyn was Marcus, clearly unconscious and bleeding from a head wound. Next to him was Dirk, another Shadow Hunter Rik had worked with on several occasions. He sat on the floor bound with chains and gagged with a blue bandana.

  Near him, perched on a wooden crate, was the wolf from the alley. His eyes glinted in an unfriendly manner and he had a smirky grin on his sharp-angled face. There were several other wolves behind him near the railing and their expressions varied from smug to leery.

  Bo stood near the back of the group and he looked distinctly unhappy. It would appear that Lyn didn’t have a united front to back him up after all.

  “You’re having a party and I wasn’t invited?” Rik walked toward Lyn.

  “Of course you were invited, you received my message, did you not?” He held up Marcus’ phone. “I sent the message as your friend,” he nudged Marcus in the side with a toe, “was indisposed.”

  “So you won’t mind that I invited a few friends as well?” Rik asked.

  Lyn’s smile grew. “Of course not. The more the merrier.”

  “I thought you would say that. Why don’t we settle this between ourselves, Fido?” Rik had reached Dirk’s side. “We don’t need to involve the others.” He reached down and grabbed the other man’s arm and hauled him to his feet.

  “You’ll need this.” Bo stepped forward to toss a silver key at Rik.

  “I see you’ve chosen your side then, brother,” Lyn spat.

  “I’ve chosen the side of peace, brother.” Bo crossed his brawny arms over his chest. “I won’t make war with you.”

  Lyn shrugged. “So be it.”

  “You and I, wolf. Let’s settle this for once and for all.” Rik removed the chains and gag from Dirk.

  “Skin to skin?” The wolf gave a toothy grin and murmurs broke out in the pack. “Or animal to animal?”

  “Just you and I, Fido. Man to man, leave the animals in their cages.” Rik removed his leather jacket and draped it over the rail. He’d destroyed enough clothing in the last twenty-four hours, and he didn’t want to add to the count.

  Lyn removed his jacket and Rik approached, leaving Dirk to deal with Marcus. As they began to circle, the other wolves moved closer, each vying for a better viewing position. Only Bo held back with a look of resignation on his face. He turned and headed for the door. One down, six more to go.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Rik noted the arrival of another wolf and with him, a woman with rumpled, reddish-brown curls. His heart stopped.

  It was Char.

  Chapter Seven

  Her scream died when she saw Rik go down. The other man landed on him and they rolled across the floor in a tangle of long limbs. When they came to a stop, Rik was on top. He hit Lyn on the chin several times with his fist then rose. He grabbed the other man, and in a grotesquely graceful move that belied physics and human strength, he sent Lyn flying into a wall of crates.

  The old wood collapsed and Rik leapt on Lyn. The men continued grappling amidst splintered crates and she winced at the sound of flesh striking flesh.

  They’re going to kill each other.

  Several more men came in at a lope and a tall, dark-haired man waved them off. “Let Rik handle it himself,” he said. “That’s the way he wants it.”

  Char shook off the hand of the man who’d forced her to come here. With her gaze glued on the two combatants, she crept toward the railing and was going to lean upon it for support when she saw the black, stagnant water below. Her heart almost stopped.

  She was deathly afraid of the water. Even as a child her pare
nts had despaired of ever getting her into water that would go over her head. Even then she’d known it would spell her doom.

  A crash brought her attention to the fight and both men were now on their feet. In a lightning-fast move she’d only seen in the movies, Lyn kicked Rik hard in the chest. Rik flew backward and skidded across the floor. Barely missing a beat, he gained his feet in one easy roll. Lyn ran at him and Rik slammed the heel of his hand into Lyn’s face and snapped his nose, sending a gush of blood over both men.

  “I broke your fucking nose, Fido.” Rik had a bloodthirsty grin on his face. “Then again, you never were a pretty boy.”

  The other man’s tongue licked at the torrent while Char’s stomach roiled. “Delicious. I feed on my pain.” Lyn’s voice was low, guttural. “Just as I will feed on yours.”

  “Why? Did you run out of Alpo?”

  A vicious snarl broke from Lyn and he threw himself at Rik. Their bodies slammed backward into the railing. The rusted metal bent as if in slow motion, and a scream caught in Char’s throat as the rail gave way beneath their combined weight and both men fell over the edge in a tangle of limbs and anger.

  Forcing her fear to the side, Char stepped toward the rail and her palms grew sweaty. Rik had landed on a small section of a cracked cement slab about seven or eight feet beneath where she was standing. Lyn hadn’t been so lucky. The other man hung off the side of the slab and now dangled over the murky black water, his boots skimming the surface.

  “Look at that, Fido. You’re about to take a bath.”

  In a show of strength that was mind-boggling, Lyn vaulted himself onto the slab and threw himself at Rik. He landed a kick to Rik’s ribs that knocked him off balance. Rik ducked the second punch then went in low and hard, catching Lyn around the waist. Both men plowed backward into a steel support and Lyn’s head rang hard against it.

  Rik trapped the other man against the pole with his body. He braced his arm against Lyn’s Adam’s apple and forced his head back.

  “You’re going to die, jackal,” Rik snarled. “Your kind deserves to die a long, slow and painful death and I’m just the man to deliver the goods.”

  “With your woman watching? You’d forsake your sacred Hunter Covenant and reveal to her the animal you are?” Lyn panted.

  “If it means I save innocent lives, then yes,” Rik hissed.

  “Pussy.”

  Lyn clawed at Rik’s face and Char had to press her fist to her mouth to halt her scream when she saw the bloody furrows left behind. Rik jerked away, his grip loosening, and Lyn slid down the pole to freedom.

  Taking a running leap, Lyn flew through the air and caught one of the rusted chains that were suspended from a winch in the ceiling. He soared through the air like Tarzan to land on the cement slab on the opposite side of the pit.

  Terrified, Char’s teeth dug into her knuckles as Rik performed the same move. When Rik landed, the other man pulled a knife from his boot and took a swipe at her lover’s exposed belly. At the last minute he sidestepped, barely evading the wicked blade.

  “So much for man to man,” Rik mocked.

  “It’s overrated,” Lyn growled, his speech somewhat garbled now.

  Char’s eyes widened when she caught sight of his enlarged canines. Did his teeth suddenly get longer?

  “I’m going to slit your belly open, Ulrik the Fair, and my pack will feast on your guts.”

  “You’ll try and you’ll lose,” Rik said. “Your kind couldn’t kill one of mine, as we don’t go down as easily as a human.”

  They circled and taunted each other, leaving Char so nervous she felt she would leap out of her skin with the tension.

  “We’ll see about that, pussycat,” Lyn snarled.

  Before her very eyes Lyn began to change. His teeth and nose elongated and she blinked several times just to make sure she was seeing right. His hair shortened and seemed to move down his back in a dark wave. Ears appeared on his head and they resembled those of a German Shepherd. His hands were transformed into claws and he flexed them; his nails clicked together. His eyes glowed red and with a howl of rage, of loathing, Lyn charged at Rik.

  My God, what were these people?

  Shaking now, Char’s breath caught as Rik tipped his head back and gave a scream like that of a cougar. A wild, ear-shattering sound that sent shivers down her spine.

  Her lover leapt into the air, and with a sharp flick of his leg, kicked the knife from the other man’s hand. With a second kick, right into Lyn’s dog-shaped face, the other man’s feet flew out from beneath him and he landed heavily on his back.

  Rik stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion. “You’re done, Fido.” He grabbed Lyn by the throat and hauled him to his feet.

  The other man grinned; his face had reverted to its human form with the exception of his elongated canine teeth. Blood ran from his nose and had splashed onto his chest. “That’s what you think, pussy.”

  The man who’d abducted her from her apartment had stood silently beside her, but now he grabbed her arm and hauled her toward the section of broken railing.

  “No!” Char resisted, trying to push away from the pit but the man seemed to be unfazed by her struggles. She looked up into his dark eyes and he gave her a cold, toothy smile.

  “Ulrik,” he called out. “Release him or lose your woman.”

  Char’s body went numb as he hauled her to the edge. A soft keening sound welled up in her throat as she teetered between safety and sure death. Her nails dug into her tormentor’s hand but he didn’t flinch.

  “Char!”

  Her gaze shifted to Rik. He stood on the edge of the pit and his eyes were strangely golden. His hair looked longer and his teeth…his teeth…

  Oh my God…not him too…

  Lyn lunged for Rik’s unprotected back.

  “Look out!” she screamed.

  The floor tilted and her captor released his grip. She managed to catch a piece of the broken railing and her nails clawed at rusted metal. The faded paint flaked off to embed itself under her nails.

  It wasn’t enough.

  She screamed as her grip loosened and she fell into space. She flailed her arms and legs in the air and it felt as if she were falling in slow motion. Down, down, down she plummeted into the stagnant black water. She’d barely managed to take a deep breath before the darkness closed over her head. She struggled in the inky water and her sense of time and space was obscured.

  Foul water invaded her mouth and filled her nose. She clawed at the darkness, all the while bemoaning the fact she’d never conquered her fear and learned to swim. Her all-consuming terror of the water had caused her to go into hysterics when her parents had signed her up for swim classes as a child and they’d pulled her after the first day.

  A sense of inevitability settled over her. She would die here alone in the darkness and her family would probably never find her. Her body would be sucked out into the bayou and become croc kibble.

  That horrifying thought sent a jolt of panic through her. She kicked her shoes off and clawed the water, trying to reach the surface and fresh air. Her abused lungs ached and spots danced before her eyes. Images of her parents, brothers, and Rik flashed against her eyelids.

  Whatever he was, whoever he was, he’d cared for her. She knew that as sure as she knew her own name. Too bad she would be dead before he would ever know how she felt about him. Oh, why hadn’t she told him?

  Dizziness assailed her and shadows shifted. A deeper, thicker darkness descended over her. The water didn’t seem as cold or alien as when she’d fallen into it. In fact, it was almost…welcoming.

  As she lost consciousness, she imagined a hand reaching out of the darkness.

  Chapter Eight

  She hurt all over. Every inch of her body felt used and abused, and she wanted nothing more than to let herself slide back into sleep. At least there she didn’t experience any pain.

  “Charlene,” a firm female voice spoke in her ear.

  Char forc
ed her eyes open and the blinding overhead lights caused her to whimper. Pain lanced through her skull and her throat felt raw.

  “I’m sorry. Let me turn the lights down.”

  The voice carried the soft twang of the south. Almost immediately, Char began to feel better just hearing that melodic voice.

  Taking a deep breath, Char slowly opened her eyes. The light had been turned down, leaving the room dim, and she sighed with relief. She blinked several times, trying to clear her fuzzy vision.

  “Would you like to sit up a little bit?” the soft voice asked.

  “Please.” Her voice was horribly raspy.

  “You have to be feeling like hell.” The voice came closer and a mechanical whir sounded. Char felt the head of the bed rise a few inches until she was in a partially reclined position. “I have some soda for you. Are you thirsty?”

  Images of the dark water rushing up to meet her caused her to shudder. “I shouldn’t be.” Her attempt at humor fell flat.

  The other woman chuckled. “You swallowed quite a bit of that nasty water but we pumped your stomach just in case.”

  Char blinked several more times and slowly her murky vision cleared. She lay in a hospital-style bed complete with metal rails, except the sheet was pale pink. Her gaze moved around the room. If she really was in a hospital, it was unlike any she’d ever seen.

  The walls were painted a soft, butter yellow and there were paintings on each wall. Several feet from the foot of the bed was a comfortable grouping of overstuffed chairs arranged near a small fireplace. In the center was a coffee table that sported a towering arrangement of flowers.

  “Where am I?” Char asked.

  “The Clinic. The cats brought you in a few hours ago.”