The Cougar's Pawn

by Holley Trent

  “Been kidnapped,” she mumbled. “By a Were-cougar. Help.”

  She shrugged. It’d have to be enough. Hopefully, Gail would work out that something was wrong—just like she had the last time Ellery had been kidnapped—and Pumpkin Pie would clue Gail in on where to look for her. Once that happened, it could still be days before she was rescued, even if one of her teleporting in-laws showed up to whisk her away. There were some perks to having a sister married to a guy whose father had once been an angel.

  A knock on the bathroom door jostled her from her lazy psychic pleas to her cat. “What?” she asked the door.

  “I need you to come out.”

  “Only one bathroom here?” She shifted to get the bony part of her butt off of a particularly uncomfortable jut of the tub ledge. “Tough. We’re out here in the middle of nowhere. I doubt if anyone would care if you took a leak outside.”

  “I don’t need to use the bathroom. I need you to come out of it.”

  “Why? To see my face? To revel in your successful kidnapping? No, thanks, bud.”

  He made some noise that was half groan and half snarl. The last time she’d heard anything close to it, she’d been in the crew cab of an F-250 during a music festival in Wilmington. There was some shagging going on, and not of the swing dancing variety.

  Werewolves were great lays, but made unreliable boyfriends. She sighed yet again. How could she possibly date human men now knowing what she could have? She wanted what Gail had, but that was impossible. There was only one Claude and all of his brothers who weren’t psychopaths were married.

  “I need to … run an errand,” Mason said.

  No, that pause in his sentence wasn’t mysterious at all. “So go.” She peered at the small window over the tub and wondered if it were merely decorative. If she could work out the necessary parkour moves to get up to it, she might be able to squeeze through to the outside. She wouldn’t survive long in the desert without supplies, but if she could get to the road, perhaps she could flag someone down.

  “You’re coming with me,” he said.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Alas, but you are going with me.”

  Damn, that window was small. The only way she’d be able to fit through it was if she got naked and greased herself up with Crisco.

  He tried the doorknob.

  Locked, of course. She wasn’t stupid.

  “I can pretty easily rip this door off its hinges. I work with wood for a living. I can fix the mess I make, but I’d rather not create more work for myself.”

  “Sorry to inconvenience you.” She opened the cabinet beneath the sink, hoping to find a metal nail file, scissors, or some other sharp object she could use as a weapon. Her magic was much stronger when she was outdoors and in her element. She could probably give him another little shock, but didn’t think she had the juice at the moment.

  “Do me a favor and don’t be a brat.”

  Oh, she could be a brat. She was bratty on purpose sometimes. Made the sex better, assuming the male on the receiving end knew how to deal with it. “Hey, you kidnapped me, buddy, not the other way around.”

  “My name is Mason, not buddy. I’m going to give you until the count of three to unlock the door.”

  That had never worked when her mother had said it, and it sure as shit wasn’t going work coming from him, either. Her mother had always given up, and Ellery would traipse out of her room hours later. If Momma had been a better witch, she could have gotten the door open without fuss. Ellery would probably never know what her parents were capable of, if anything. Damned shame.

  “One,” he said.

  No toiletry kit to be found, but she did find a bottle of baby wash that was already half-used. She figured someone with a kid had visited. Gail and Claude kept stuff like that in their guest bathroom in case their niece slept over. That was a rare occurrence since Claude and his brothers lived within a two-minute walk of each other, but sometimes, kids just wanted to sleep under someone else’s roof for a change.

  “Two.”

  She closed the cabinet door and tried the drawers. She pulled out the first aid kit—her heart racing—and popped the lid. “Dammit.” No scissors. No nothing, really, save for gauze and some expired ointment.

  His lack of preparedness appalled her professional nurse sensibilities.

  “Three.”

  She returned the kit to the drawer, sat on the toilet, and crossed her arms.

  The door groaned, as if Mason had put all his weight against it. “Ellery.” His voice was firm, yet pleading.

  She’d like that combination from a man if he were naked. She didn’t want to think about Mason being naked, though, because she did intend on being rescued. No use harboring fantasies she had no intentions of acting on. She studied her ragged nails.

  “Fine. I guess I’ll be fixing a door while you sleep tonight.” With one forceful collision, Mason shoved the door through its frame.

  Ellery gaped at the runnels in the frame where the screws ripped through.

  He propped the door against the tub, wiped the dust off his hands onto his jeans, picked her up, and tossed her over his shoulder.

  She had a love-hate relationship with that view of his ass.

  “I gave you until three,” he said.

  “I’m not going to make it easy for you, cat.”

  “Try to shock me again, and I’ll have you sleeping in a cold bath tonight, witch.”

  She probably couldn’t shock him again even if she wanted to. She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept well in days, and just didn’t have the mojo. He didn’t need to know that, though.

  “You dunk me in cold water, and I’ll cast a spell that’ll have your balls shriveling like grapes in the sun.” She knew of no such spell. Even if she did, she wouldn’t use it. Bad shit always returned to the person who dealt it, and exponentially worse. That was a basic tenet of witchcraft.

  Out on the porch, he pulled the front door closed and left it unlocked. He bounded down the stairs and didn’t even bother lightening his step.

  She cringed at every bump and jostle. She’d probably end up with bruised ribs and aching tits. “You could put me down, you know.”

  “Easier to carry you.”

  “Neanderthal.”

  “People underestimate the Neanderthals’ intelligence. They used very advanced tools for their time. In fact, they shared a lot of their knowledge with their Homo sapiens contemporaries. Fortunately, we absorbed them into our gene pool.”

  Great. A smart-ass.

  He set her down at the front passenger door of his truck.

  She propped her hands on her hips. “You letting me ride in the front this time?”

  He opened the door, engaged the child safety lock, and lifted her into the cab.

  “Dammit.”

  He closed the door on her swear, and briefly, she considered making a run for it through the driver’s door, but he was too fast. She’d barely seen him move, and she suspected that wasn’t merely her camping-induced delirium and abduction exhaustion fogging her brain. He was supernaturally fast, and probably thought he had no reason to hide it anymore. If she ran, he’d be on her in minutes, if not seconds.

  She slumped and pulled the seatbelt on with a sigh.

  He turned the key and kicked the snarling, choking engine to life. He’d barely allowed the old thing to get running before he hit the accelerator.

  She drummed her fingers on her thighs and stared out her window.

  A whole lot of nothing out there. No landmarks to speak of, beyond the ranch buildings, and it was so dark she probably wouldn’t be able to recognize anything in the morning, anyway. Maybe she could get him to spill some location clues if she couldn’t discover them on her own.

  “So … ” She cut her gaze leftward. Periphery was good enough. Looking at him straight on seemed to compromise her intelligence somehow. She was an educated woman and knew that she shouldn’t be too hard on herself for finding him attractive in
spite of his obviously questionable character. She was more or less human, after all. Her body didn’t care that he was an unapologetic kidnapper. That was her brain’s problem. “Just what kind of errand is this? Got another lady to kidnap?”

  He hissed at her—a baring of white teeth and sharp fangs—before setting his attention back on the road.

  “For God’s sake.” She rolled her eyes. “When my cat hisses, it’s because she’s either being territorial or she thinks she’s seen a ghost. Which is your problem?”

  “Your cat can see ghosts?”

  “Of course she can. She’s a witch’s familiar.” She grinned, just in case he’d forgotten what she was. She wasn’t going to make herself easy prey. The last time she’d been kidnapped, she’d had a sack thrown over her head and been knocked out before she could string together enough coherent thoughts to realize that, derp, she’d been snatched. Shit like that didn’t happen in the tiny coastal town where she grew up. She would have been exponentially more likely to have had a bucket of bait stolen from her car than to have been kidnapped. She’d gotten a lot better at guarding her person in a year, but obviously not good enough.

  “Just what kind of witch are you?” he asked.

  “Meaning?”

  “Natural or otherwise.”

  “Oh. Natural. I get it through blood, not practice.”

  “Wow! You actually answered.”

  “Because the answer shouldn’t calm you any.”

  He scoffed. “That depends. What’s your element?”

  “You ask a lot of questions, cat.”

  “Just curious.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity and cats?”

  “Go on and try your best. I’ve got nine lives, baby. You want to use one? Make it the right kind of death, and I won’t even care I wasted it. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go while in the throes of orgasm. Death by sex-induced cardiac arrest.”

  She scoffed. “In your dreams.”

  “Yeah. That’s pretty much what cats dream about. Fucking and hunting and … ” He brought the truck up to just above the speed limit on the open road and muttered something about “draconian goddess edicts.”

  “Why did you take us? Did you just pick any three women?”

  “No.”

  She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t seem to be forthcoming with words. “Oh-kay, then. So … you chose us specifically?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “And what if we were attached? Had boyfriends, or whatever.”

  He chuckled—a low, sensuous sound that was part purr and all man.

  It made her cheeks burn and thighs clench.

  Nope. Nopity nope nope.

  “You think your human boyfriends would have anything on us? You wouldn’t want to go back to them after having a taste.”

  “Cocky bastard.” He was probably right, though. After all, she didn’t even sleep with witches anymore. Lately, her preferences had been in the realm of shifters, the various flavors of demigods, and angel spawn. He didn’t need to know that, though.

  “Why would you assume they’d be human? Witches tend to pair off with witches to keep the lines from dying out.”

  “Tend to. But, you haven’t.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I can tell. You wouldn’t smell so nice if you were hung up on someone else. And … apparently I just said that out loud.”

  “Yeah, that was pretty dumb. I haven’t had a shower in two days. What you’re smelling is desert and campfire.”

  “It’s not that kind of smell.” His gaze fell to her lap, and he wore a grimace by the time he made it back up to her eyes.

  Cat eyes.

  She gulped.

  He returned his attention to the road.

  She crossed her arms and huffed. “Don’t go getting any ideas. I haven’t forgotten you’ve abducted me, which is not only immoral, but also illegal. I can’t help what I’m attracted to.”

  “So, you admit you’re attracted to me?”

  “The more important part of the statement I made was that you abducted me.”

  “It’s the Cougar way to take mates,” he said through clenched teeth.

  So now the guy thought she was his mate? She thumped her head a few times against her window and suppressed a laugh. There had to be something wrong with him. Seriously. Why would a man that good-looking need to abduct an out-of-towner when there were probably plenty of locals who’d happily volunteer?

  Because he was deranged. Obviously.

  “It wasn’t my idea.” He stole a quick glance away from the road. “You should know better than anyone that not everything that happens in our world is strictly by the rules. Trust me, I skirt around enough of them that I know how onerous they are. If it weren’t for my goddess’s interference, you’d still be in your tent right now, and I’d be at home balancing my checkbook or something.”

  “Oh, so your reluctance is supposed to make it okay? There’s always the option of saying no. It’s a word I exercise plenty. Sounds so pretty coming off my tongue, doesn’t it? No. Noooo.”

  “Sure, I could say no, but I enjoy life too much to have my goddess punish me by forcing me to keep my cougar form for the rest of my life.”

  She stared at the dashboard as his words ordered and congealed in her mind, but they didn’t make any more sense than the pattern of dust streaks she was looking at. He had to be joking. Certainly, his patron goddess wouldn’t be so petty to her own Cougars. “That was hyperbole, right? You’re exaggerating.”

  “I can be pretty creative when I need to be, but even my imagination isn’t that good. I have to convince you to be my mate. If I fail at that, I’m stuck in my cat form until you come around.”

  “Nah.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and stared at her bobbing knees for a moment before her crazed laugh fell out. “That’s too twisted. You can’t seriously be telling me that it’s up to me, a stranger, to decide whether you end up cat or man.” She looked at him and waited for the laugh—the just kidding—but nothing came. Her stomach lurched.

  He kept his gaze on the road and his mouth firmly shut.

  “Oh, God. You’re not joking, are you?”

  “I wish it were a joke,” he said quietly. “Very little is funny about my life, and I doubt I’ll ever look back on this and laugh.”

  “That’s absolutely insane.” She scooted down in her seat and let out an exasperated huff. “Why does this stuff happen to me?”

  “I could ask myself the same question.”

  He certainly could. She cringed.

  He was right that so much of what happened in their little sliver of humanity was off the books. They did what they needed to survive, and sometimes those things didn’t always square up with laws and ordinances … or other people’s wills. She felt for him, but she couldn’t be his mate … but maybe someone else could be.

  “Hey, have you maybe considered just asking a woman to be your mate? That’d eliminate the kidnapping situation. Just sayin’.”

  “You want to be my mate?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “There you have it. That’s why we don’t do that.”

  “There’s a such thing called courtship.”

  “You want me to court you? Is that all?”

  “No!” She stamped her foot. “I want you to send me home.” Besides, she didn’t think the dude would know courtship even if it bit him in his … exquisitely molded … muscular … She gave her forearms twin pinches, hoping the pain would chase away her licentious thoughts. It worked. She gave a silent cheer.

  “Can’t do that. As much as I would love to toss you onto the fastest thing headed east, I’m somewhat disinclined to do so now. The cougar part of my brain has decided it likes your scent.”

  “Well, that sounds lovely in a Silence of the Lambs kind of way. I’ll have you know there’s not much meat on me. Certainly not enough to enjoy with a nice Chianti.”

  His cheek
twitched. She was pretty sure that was practically a smile. Maybe she could disarm him. Keep him amused long enough to get him to turn his back, and then she’d pull a Houdini. Or at least dial 9-1-1.

  “Like Mom said, I’m harmless unless I’m forced not to be. I’m not going to hurt you, and the cougar part of me isn’t going to let me rest if you’re out of my sight. At least, not until … ”

  He let the words trail off, and when he didn’t pick them up after a minute, she reached across the seat and nudged his arm. “You’ll let me out of your sight when?” There had to be some sort of escape clause to the mess.

  Prodding him was like pushing a telephone pole. Solid man. Nothing in excess, except his pride. Different from ego, and ego was something she knew well. She could sense it in auras, and alphas like him tended to have large ones. His was odd. Strong, but restrained. Tentative, maybe. She believed he didn’t want to hurt her. Things might be easier if he did. If he had just wanted to hurt her, she wouldn’t try so hard to make sense of him.

  “Never, if my goddess has anything to say about it,” he said finally.

  A half-answer, but she didn’t think pushing the issue any further would get her anywhere, so she didn’t. He had his mind set, and so did she. She was starting to dislike his goddess, and Lord knew the last thing she needed was more enemies.

  She could forgive him for what he’d done in the name of his goddess. Really, she could. He was a product of his world—his clan—and she was a product of hers. Some woman out there would make a suitable mate for a desert-dwelling cougar, but it wouldn’t be her.

  He’d done what he had to.

  So would she. Once she figured out what that was.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mason pulled up the parking brake and killed the engine.

  Ellery was asleep with arms crossed and head pressed against the window. He hated to wake her because in sleep, she couldn’t snipe at him, but there was no way he’d be able to get Nick’s car seat in through the driver’s side. He couldn’t move the seat. One of these days, he’d need to get a new truck—one with a crew cab—but money had been so tight up until recently that a big purchase hadn’t been on his priority list.