by Tara Lain
“No shit.”
Lindsey laughed. “So, are we waiting for Paris’s pa—uh, family to get here?”
Cole shook his head. He wanted to jump out the window and run into the building. He knew why Eliazer wanted Paris, and it wasn’t for dance lessons. “Hell no. But I hate to put you in harm’s way.”
“Darling, you’re the one diving into the macho male pool. I’m just asking a few questions and providing, shall we say, backup? Let’s go.”
Cole looked at Helena. “Stay here, no matter what, okay?”
She nodded.
He threw open the door and got out onto the sidewalk with Lindsey behind him. They’d have to walk around the building to the entrance.
Even though Cole had changed into black jeans and a sweatshirt, Linds remained elegantly casual. Good thing, considering the “rich guy” image he needed to convey. Cole touched his arm. “Should I wait for you out here?”
“No. I expect there’s no easy back way into this building, so I think the security guards should see you with me. Then if you’re caught on any cameras, they won’t call out the cavalry.”
They started walking toward the entrance.
Linds looked over at Cole. “Have any ideas what we’re doing?”
“Nope. Playing it by ear.”
“Have you got a gun?”
“Hell yeah.”
Lindsey grinned. “Me too.”
* * *
What a beauty.
Nikel pressed the button again and peered at the monitor, watching Anthony on his bed. Release just a little more sedative into the air and he’d be out. The dancer’s eyes closed, and slowly that lean body relaxed. Good. He’d been fighting sleep for an hour. He needed to sleep. Nikel needed him to sleep too.
He turned to the enforcer watching the surveillance screens. “Turn off this monitor now.”
“Yes, sir.” The wolf got the tiniest smirk on his lips. Good cause to replace him as soon as he’d finished with Anthony. Killing might be in order.
Nikel watched as the monitor went dark; then he opened the hidden door into the bedroom and slipped in. Anthony didn’t move.
Nikel pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the walky-talky feature. “Hit the suction.”
A soft hiss indicated that the remainder of the sedative spray was being vacuumed up. Anthony might wake up in the middle, but that wouldn’t be the worst thing. He might fight, which could be fun.
Nikel undid his belt and fly. He’d told Anthony he had patience, but he’d lied. He’d waited for this dancer long enough, and his cock ached. A good hard fuck would set them both to rights. Wooing could come later.
He kicked off his shoes, pulled his jeans off, and threw them on the chair beside the bed. A quick search of the bedside drawer turned up the lube he’d stashed there hoping Anthony would jerk off with it. That would be fun to watch.
He sat on the bed and opened the lube with his teeth. A glop on two fingers ought to do the job. Of course, he did have a fatty. He smiled and rolled Anthony farther on his side, pulled up the robe, then inserted the fingers in his ass. The boy moaned but didn’t wake.
Oh God! That was heaven. Hot and tight like the boy didn’t get nearly enough fucking. He’d change that in a hurry. He shoved the fingers in and out quickly. Enough lube. He started to shake. Damn, he needed his cock in there—
A buzz came from his pocket. Shit and damnation! Someone would die for sure.
He lay on his side and positioned his cock.
Two buzzes.
Hellfire. Obviously they wouldn’t stop until he killed them.
He slid to the side of the bed and fished his phone from his pants. Damn, his erection was softening. He grabbed hold and yanked as he hit reply. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Sir, I’m so sorry, but the owner of the building is here and wants to speak to you.”
“The owner of the—what the fuck! Do you think I care? Why would you bother me for some tradesman?”
The wolf sounded frightened and lowered his voice. “Sir, this is a, uh, real gentleman who says he has to speak to you about refunding your deposit. He’s not taking no for an answer.”
Refund? The rent on this building was astronomical. He could use a refund. “Tell him to wait.”
He looked longingly at Anthony. Oh well, the boy could stand a little more sedation later. And he’d never be able to relax with this idiot owner hanging around.
He grabbed his jeans, pulled them on over a flaccid penis, and slipped on his loafers. Okay, Mr. Owner, let’s see who the hell you are.
He opened the secret door and walked back into the surveillance camera room. “Show me the floor lobby.” The operator hit a button and the image came up on the big screen.
“Son of a bitch.” Standing in the lobby outside his apartments was the elegant wolf he’d seen at the Black Leopard. Vanessen. Did he own this building? He wouldn’t be surprised. “Widen the view.” No one else but his three enforcers. But once again this wolf showed up around Anthony. That was no fucking coincidence.
He pulled out his phone and buzzed the guard. “Don’t let that man get away—” As he spoke the words, he watched the elegant wolf casually remove a gun from his jacket pocket. Through the phone, he heard the wolf say, “I would suggest all of you remove your weapons and drop them on the floor, and if you think you can best me being three to one and all, know that I’m an expert shot and my gun has special, ah, shall we say wolf-killing ammunition.” His smile on the monitor looked cold.
Nikel screamed, “Kill him, you idiot!”
One guard ripped a gun from his shoulder holster, but before he could get it aimed, a soft pop sounded and the gun flew out of his hand.
“Oh, did I forget to mention my companion?” The elegant wolf stepped back and aimed intently at the other enforcers as the big wolf from the club stepped into the picture. Damnation!
His guards looked like cows, not wolves. They removed their weapons and dropped them. The guard in the surveillance room looked up at Nikel. “Uh, shall I go out there or stay here and protect you, sir?” His eyes clearly said he preferred the latter.
Damn, he should kill the coward himself. He should kill them all.
* * *
Cole pressed his gun against the back of the enforcer. “Open it or you’re a dead wolf.”
The man did as requested and keyed open the door to the apartment. Cole pushed him toward the floor. “Sit there and don’t move.” He looked up at Linds. Amazing. What a friend. “Okay?”
Lindsey smiled grimly as he pointed the gun at the big wolves sitting side by side against the wall. “I’ve got this.”
Cole shook his head. Who knew the guy was an expert marksman? But right now, he just hoped he wasn’t too late.
He stepped into the foyer of the plush apartment with his gun ready. Nobody. A few steps down the entry hall, he peered into an open living room. The place had to be monitored. He looked up. Yeah. But cameras couldn’t shoot. He rushed across the carpet toward what seemed to be the bedroom door, partly closed. He shuddered. What would he find?
Trying not to squeeze the gun too hard, he nudged open the door with his knee. No movement. He stepped in. Oh shit.
Paris lay on his side on the bed, dead still. The same robe he’d been wearing when Cole last saw him was bunched around his hips, and his slim, taut ass shone like pale marble in the dying light from the window.
Cole took a step forward like he’d been pulled by a cord. He stopped and looked around. No one. His heart beat too hard, but he couldn’t breathe. Two steps. Three. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. And he knew. He didn’t want to breathe ever again if Paris wasn’t breathing. Weird. The cat didn’t want him. Maybe he didn’t even want the cat. But he couldn’t live if Paris was dead.
Slowly, he lowered his head and pressed it to that unmoving back.
Shhh. Ahhh. So soft. So slight. But alive.
Cole sat up and breathed. Drugs. Eliazer had put Paris
to sleep. Shit! How had he hurt him?
He stared at that bare butt. No marks, no semen. He could smell a lingering scent of lust but not enough to suggest rape. Still, the shine of lube streaked across Paris’s ass. Cole’s wolf growled, teeth bared, in his heart. Eliazer deserved to die, and Cole loved giving people what they deserved.
But there was no time for hate. He had to get Paris out of there.
He put his gun away, leaned over, and gathered the robe around the slim body. Come on, kitty. Mmmff. He was heavier than he looked. All those dancer’s muscles. The sleeping body reeked of fear, anger, and frustration. But he still smelled like one sexy cat.
Cole hefted Paris, walked to the other side of the room, and looked out into the living room. Still no one. Where the hell was Eliazer? He’d been here. The enforcer had called him. It really seemed like they had arrived literally in the nick of time. It gave him the heebies to think about it. But probably just as well Eliazer wasn’t there. Cole might want to take on an army single-handed, but as a tactical strategy it was a crappy idea.
He looked down. The beautiful sleeping face looked troubled. Cole whispered, “It’s okay, cat, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”
A long, deep sigh. With his eyes still tightly closed, Paris pressed his head against Cole’s shoulder and smiled.
At the door to the hall, he listened. Voices, wolf smell seeped under the door. Landon. Marketo. He pushed the lever down with his elbow and kicked open the door.
The rumblings of ten Marketo enforcers plus the alpha himself hit Cole like a wall. They might be pack, but they were still a group. He tightened his arms on Paris.
Lindsey’s voice cut through, elegant and commanding. “Step back and let him through, for God’s sake.”
Cole put his back to the wall and stared at the Marketos. Interest, challenge, maybe a little derision. After all, he was holding a barely dressed male beauty in his arms. Fuck ’em all.
Merced stepped closer. “Is he all right? Did they hurt him?” He reached out his arms as if to take Paris from Cole.
Cole felt the rumble in his own chest. His lip rose in a quiet snarl.
Merced’s eyes widened.
Lindsey stepped up and put a strategic hand on Merced’s chest. “Not wise, dear fellow. Cole’s not too reasonable when it comes to your kitty.” He stared down at Paris’s face. “I’m no doctor, but he looks asleep. Probably drugged. Now step aside and let us get Paris to someplace he can be cared for.”
Merced frowned. “And where might that be?”
Lindsey laughed. “Wherever Cole decides.”
* * *
Nikel gasped for breath on the last flight down. Shit, fifteen fucking floors. But he had to get out of there. After all, wolves ran in packs. Where there were two, more were sure to follow.
How the hell had someone found him there? And who were they? Why did they want Anthony? The boy must be even more special than he’d thought. All the more reason to get him back.
He opened the emergency door a crack. It would sound in the building’s security office, but he’d be long gone before they got there. A step out and a quick glance. All clear. He moved down the side of the building toward the entrance. Yes, he should escape, but he had to know who had robbed him of Anthony and made his enforcers look like little girls. He had to know who to kill.
He stared around the corner, then pulled back. Merced fucking Marketo. What did he have to do with this? He glanced again. That big wolf was holding Anthony. God, he wanted to kill him now.
He turned and hurried back toward the private lot where they’d put his car. It didn’t really matter how Marketo was involved. He was a dead wolf anyway. But what was the connection?
He grabbed his phone and hit speed dial.
“Yes, sir.”
“Kurt, what do those humans say about that marriage of Marketo’s daughter? Was it to the Harker alphanta?”
“They think maybe that was the intention, but it never happened. The female ran off with some human.”
“Good.” He clicked off. So no alliance for the Harkers. He could destroy them first and then deal with the Marketos at his leisure. Or maybe he’d kill them all at once in a big statement. His enforcers would love that. Give them more females to fuck. He smiled. Of course, some of them liked to fuck males. And some of them liked to screw with knives. They could have their fun. It would endear him to them further.
But he had his priorities straight. Get his dancer first, then kill the Harkers.
Chapter Thirteen
Paris opened his eyes. Soft light and the smell of wolf. The right wolf. He breathed deeply and tried his body. It moved against fresh, clean sheets. No pain. Dear God, he’d been rescued. He couldn’t believe it. His hands trembled.
He raised his head. He’d never been in this bedroom before, but he’d know it anywhere. Simple, spare, comfortable. Big fireplace and a couple of easy chairs. It spoke so loudly of Cole. More loudly than the wolf ever spoke himself.
Paris sat up. Aha. The wolf himself—lying on a big, soft-looking couch, sound asleep.
How the hell did he get there? Warm, safe, and—free. Oh God, free.
The shaking traveled from his hands to his heart and moved out. Trapped. He’d been trapped. Eliazer. The gangster could have beaten and tortured him. Raped him. But nothing could have been worse than closing him in. Nothing.
The moan seeped out by itself like some cat in pain. Was that him? Oh God, cold. “Ohhhh.” He’d been trapped. Alone. So alone. “Noooooo.”
The big body landed next to him with a thud. “Paris. Are you okay? What hurts?”
He looked up into those huge, silver eyes. “You saved me.”
Cole nodded. “I helped.”
“He trapped me.”
“I know. But not anymore.”
Paris’s head swung back and forth on its own. “Can’t be trapped. Can’t be closed in.” His body shook but he couldn’t make it stop. Tears ran down his face. So embarrassing. “Noooo.”
Big, warm arms came around him. “It’s okay, cat. Nobody has you.” His voice got so soft Paris could barely hear it. “Not even me.”
He tried to breathe and hiccupped instead.
Cole held him tight. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe and free.”
Free.
Safe. He sucked in a breath. Not because he was a brilliant cat who could take care of himself. Fuck no. He burrowed farther into Cole’s arms. “Th-thank you for coming for me. I didn’t think anyone would come.”
Cole held him and rocked a little, and he gradually stopped shaking. Some brave, fucking independent cat he was. He took a deep breath and felt energy move out into his arms and hands. Not bound, not trapped. Free. Free because of Cole. Nothing he’d ever done had earned him the kindness and devotion of the big wolf. And yet, here it was.
The idea leaped into his mind like Athena from the head of Zeus—or one of those Olympian dudes, anyway. He sat back, pulling himself out of the big wolf’s arms. “Is my father here?”
“Yes. He’s downstairs with Landon and Crystal. Your mom’s here too. Merced came to save you with part of the pack.” He smiled. “Lindsey and I just got there first.”
Paris frowned. “Lindsey. It seems I’m beholden to him more and more.”
“He’s a good guy.”
Paris raised an eyebrow. “But much too pretty.” He took a deep breath. “So now I suppose you’ll be going to war with Eliazer because of me.”
Cole shrugged. “We would have anyway. Now I just have more reason to kill him.” He bared his teeth.
Paris breathed in that lush wolf smell. All home and hearth and shit he hated. “Could you ask Merced and your father to come up here, please?”
Cole looked surprised. “Sure.”
That big back with the wide shoulders, narrow hips, and killer butt looked mouth-watering walking out of the room. Speaking of which, he’d better cover his own bare butt.
He jumped out of bed and saw a pair of jean
s that looked like his and a sweater folded on the arm of the couch. He slipped them on, then looked for shoes. It might be June, but his feet were cold. A pair of sneakers peeked out from under the couch. He slid them on and laughed. Clearly designed for paws much larger than his. He sat on the couch and pulled his bare feet under him.
Okay cat, think. What the hell are you doing? He sighed. The only thing he could do. He’d never be free with this kind of debt hanging over him.
He heard sounds outside the door. They were coming. Inhale. Exhale. He could do this.
Cole opened the door and stepped back. Merced guided Trixie through the door and followed her, with Landon and Crystal behind them. He hadn’t counted on the mothers, but what the hell.
Trixie gave a squeal, ran across the room, and threw her arms around Paris’s neck. Whoa. His mother was usually not this demonstrative. He patted her back and kissed her cheek. “I’m okay. Really. Thanks to Cole.”
She pulled back and looked at him closely, smoothing his hair away from his face. “Yes, thanks to Cole. And no one else.” She frowned and looked pointedly at Merced, then sat back and settled in on the couch beside him.
His father stuck out his hand and Paris took it. “Glad you’re safe, son. I never dreamed that our pack problems would put you in danger.”
Paris shook his head. “They didn’t.”
“What?”
Paris motioned toward the chairs. Merced sat across from him, and Landon took the other guest chair. Crystal sat beside Trixie on the couch. Females united.
Cole opened a drawer in his bureau and pulled out a pair of socks that he tossed to Paris. Sweet wolf. Worried about his feet.
He pulled on the socks and laughed when they flopped over on the end. Everyone joined in and the tension in the room dropped a decibel or two.
Paris looked at his dad. “Oddly enough, I don’t think Eliazer has a clue who I am. In fact, I’m not sure he even knows I’m a wolf. He kidnapped me for reasons having nothing to do with wolf politics.” He shuddered.
Trixie pressed her head against his arm. “Oh God, did he hurt you?”
“I don’t think so.”
