And—once he had her settled in the passenger seat—a deep breath told her it wasn’t owned by a parent, the owner didn’t have an ill relative, and the owner was in good health.
Once she was done sorting through the scents in the small space, she turned a wide smile on Declan. That wide smile even remained in place for a little while.
At least until he spoke. “I even checked his insurance card. We can total it and he’ll be fine.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Stealing a car from a gas station wasn’t the smartest move, but it was the quickest way to get them from point A to Point Kicking in Pike’s Door. One quick car ride later and they’d traveled from Declan’s safe house to the center of Port St. James.
He cradled Abby in his arms, her breasts pressed to his chest, and he pretended not to notice how good it felt to hold her close.
The wolf noticed. The wolf liked it—a lot—even if she was a feline and their pups might spit up the occasional hairball.
Fuck that. There wouldn’t be hairballs because there wouldn’t be pups.
The wolf wanted to know how it felt to be delusional.
Declan nudged the wolf back and returned his attention to caring for Abby. He’d only been half joking when he’d mentioned totaling the car, but he’d settled for abandoning it a few blocks from Pike’s place. Shitty part of town filled with shady people who wouldn’t report anything to the cops. Or at least wouldn’t make a call until they’d stolen what they wanted from the vehicle.
They wouldn’t mention a man all in black carrying a giggling woman down the street, either. And how Abby managed to laugh with a bullet embedded in her thigh he would never know. It did beat tears, though. Man, he couldn’t take a woman’s tears.
Declan strode up Pike’s crumbling sidewalk—cracked, coated in black mold, and overtaken by weeds. He didn’t slow his approach when he reached the two low stairs that led to Pike’s poor excuse for a front porch. He skipped both, placed his right foot on the edge of the concrete slab and his left…well, it came up and he drove the heel of his boot into the steel-coated panel, just to the right of the knob, and the door jolted inward with a resounding crack.
Declan stepped back and ducked, waiting for what was to come next. Two low pops and thuds immediately followed, bullets striking the doorframe where he’d stood only moments before.
“Anybody dead?” Pike called out, and Declan rolled his eyes.
“If I were dead, could I tell you?” he drawled, and stepped into sight, ducking once more when the other man took another shot. “Dammit, Pike.”
Abby decided it was a good time to laugh and released a tinkling series of chuckles. “He shot at you.”
Declan turned his attention to the woman in his arms, her glazed eyes and flushed face pointed in his direction. “Yes, he did, but it’s not funny.”
She snuggled close, rubbing her cheek on his chest, and released a soft sigh. “Okay.”
Damn she wasn’t doing good. Her quick agreement and the sensuous way she lay against him made him wonder just what kind of shit was in that bullet.
“Declan?” That familiar deep rasp came from within the run-down house.
“Who else has the balls to break down your fucking door, asshole?” he snarled, and stepped into the dark home. “Turn on a fucking light.”
Pike just snorted and hit a switch, a soft snick preceding a flare of brightness. A gold glow fell across the space, illuminating Pike’s living room.
“Cleaner than I expected,” Declan murmured.
No pizza boxes or take-out containers. Then he turned his attention to the other man. Declan expected to see long hair, scruffy bristles on Pike’s face, and his ever-present bottle of beer in hand. Even if shifters had a helluva time getting drunk, it didn’t mean Pike didn’t try. Hard.
Except this version of Pike was clean-cut, freshly shaved, and clutching a soda instead of alcohol.
“What happened to you?”
Pike lifted a single brow. “What happened to you?” He waved a hand toward Abby. “And who’s that?”
Right. He wasn’t there to check in on Pike. He had a different—more important—purpose.
“I’ve been shot at a lot, and this…” He tipped his head toward the woman in his arms.
“I’m Abby.” She breathed deep and huffed out the breath, her breathing growing more difficult the longer that bullet stayed inside her. “I actually got shot. Twice.”
Fur, shades of gray that ranged from near black to the lightest brush, slid forward to replace Pike’s skin, while his eyes flashed bright amber, and Declan wondered if he’d end up fighting someone else instead of helping Abby.
Except as quickly as the man’s beast had rushed forward, it withdrew, retreating into Pike’s human shape. “Sorry.” He cracked his neck. “I’m good.”
“He’s not a fish.” The softly whispered words drifted through the room. “He should be a fish.”
Pike’s anger over Abby’s injury vanished, replaced by a dark glare. One she didn’t see because she’d closed her eyes, more of her weight resting against him.
“I’m tired, Declan.”
He ignored Pike and focused on Abby, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. He drew in her scent—not because he needed her flavors to fill him more than he needed air. No, he needed to know how far the poison traveled, how firm a hold it had on her body.
Too hard. Too much.
“I know, sweetheart. Let’s get you patched up, and then you can sleep.”
“But not in the water? Don’t wanna sleep in the water.”
“Not in the water.” He had no idea where she’d come up with that, but he’d promise her the world to keep her happy.
“Because that’s where fish sleep.”
“And Pike’s not a fish.” He refused to look at Pike, but there was no way he could suppress the smile that leaped to his lips.
A rolling growl slid through the room, Pike’s annoyance a physical thing within the space. Declan opened his mouth, ready to counter the growl with a snarl, but Abby beat him to it in her own way.
“Shhh, Mr. Not-Fishy. Good puppies don’t growl.” She even lifted her hand and petted the air as if a dog were within reach.
“Declan…” Pike’s annoyance slammed into him, but Declan didn’t have the strength to censure Abby. Not when her face paled even more and her breathing transitioned from slow and easy to rapid and uneven.
“Need a room and your kit, Pike. She’s got a poisoned bullet in her thigh that needs to come out.”
Pike glared at him, then her, and then Declan once more. “I’m not a fucking hospital.”
“Like I could take a damned cougar to a hospital?” Declan strode deeper into the room. “Tell me where I’m going or I’ll lay her on the first bed I find.” He let his wolf come forward. “Then I’ll tear you—and this place—apart until I find what I need.”
Pike rolled his eyes. “When’d you become such a bitch over a woman?”
“About twenty-four hours ago.” Really, four days ago. The first time he’d watched her shake her ass.
Pike shook his head. “This way.”
He led Declan down a nearby hall, the narrow space dark and crowded. Nice area to draw opponents and pick ’em off easy with—he lifted his attention and located the hole in the ceiling at the end of the hall—a sniper rifle. Dead before they knew Pike was near.
Pike nudged open a door. “Put her there. I’ll get the supplies.”
Declan strode into the room and lowered her to the narrow bed. “Abby?” He gently called her name and gave her shoulder a soft shake. “Abby, I’m going to have to cut your pants off.”
“Have a headache, Declan. Maybe later,” she mumbled, and patted his hand.
He just chuckled and shook his head. “Abby…”
“I have to wash my hair.”
“Abby,” he murmured.
“I’m not in the mood to get jiggy with it.” She glared at him, the cougar starin
g out through Abby’s eyes. “Can’t you find porn like a normal guy?”
A snort came from behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. Pike stood in the doorway, bag in hand and smirk on his lips. “Yeah, Dec, can’t you watch porn?”
“Shut up, asshole, and give me the bag.” He curled his lip—exposing a fang—and held out his hand. The moment the handle rested on his palm, he drew it close and laid it beside her. “And, Abby, I don’t wanna fuck”—right that second—“I need to get that bullet out.”
“Later though?” Glassy eyes met his, her smile so soft and sweet and tempting as hell.
“Later.” His wolf howled, fucking thrilled with the idea. Horny asshole.
The beast still wasn’t disagreeing.
“Okay.” She turned her head and nuzzled the pillow, giving a little wiggle before she sighed and relaxed into the mattress. “Wake me when it’s over.”
Pike snorted. “She serious?”
Declan clenched his hand into a tight fist and resisted the urge to punch the man in the face for laughing at Abby. Shit. He had it bad.
“Pike?” He was determined to remain calm until he got through this shit with Abby. Then he’d gut Pike like he was a fish and Declan was a bear in fucking salmon-spawning season. “Shut up and come hold her down.”
Pike grunted and strolled forward, moving slow as molasses. If Declan didn’t need the other wolf so much, he’d kill him.
Pike knelt on the other side of the bed and leaned forward, arms hovering above Abby’s unconscious body. “Chest and knees?”
“Yeah.” Guilt churned in Declan’s gut. He hated what was about to happen, but it had to be done. “Hopefully I won’t have to search long.”
“Mind telling me why you aren’t taking her to one of your Shit Dick docs? Or why Team Fuckhole isn’t here?”
Yes, Declan was going to tear Pike into tiny pieces when this was through. “It’s SHOC—”
“Not Shit Dick.”
“And my team will tear a hole in your ass—”
“So big and all that bullshit.” Pike snorted. “You’re still so easy to rile up. Didn’t answer my question, though.”
“We caught her. I took her.” Declan shrugged. He left out the part about rescuing her from Unified Humanity first.
“Why?” Pike raised his eyebrows, and he shrugged again.
“Seemed like the thing to do at the time.”
Declan decided the conversation was done and reached for Abby’s pants. Instead of pulling them from her body, he simply enlarged the hole around her wound. He wasn’t about to let Pike get too good of a look at what belonged to him. He still wasn’t addressing the “belonged to him” portion of his thoughts, either.
“You ready?” He shot Pike a questioning look and waited for his nod. “Then hold her still and pray she stays out.”
The first cut into her skin told him God wasn’t answering their prayers. In fact, God gave him a big old “fuck off” in the shape of feline claws, pointed fangs, and long hisses that made his blood run cold.
Chapter Twenty-three
Consciousness returned slowly, Abby’s mind easing awake in gradual increments. An ache encompassed her from head to toe, and the throbbing pain attempted to lure her back to sleep. But for some reason, she couldn’t. There was a reason she had to open her eyes. Right?
Abby furrowed her brow, mind muddling through her body’s aches on a hunt for why she couldn’t just stay on the comfortable bed and hide from reality.
Reality…The word was no more than a whisper. There was a reason she still lived—a reason she hadn’t died and was instead saved by a…
She furrowed her brow and murmured, “Saved by a fish?”
A low, masculine chuckle came from her left, and the gentle caress of a large hand soon followed. “Not a fish. Wolf.”
Declan. She sighed in relief and something else. Something that felt like pleasure, but she’d never say that aloud. Fingers sifted through her hair, brushing strands away from her face. She turned her head and nuzzled his palm, breathing in his natural, woodsy scent. A scent that soothed the restless animal inside her.
More than restless—near panicked. The beast alternated between snarls at Abby and purrs directed at Declan with bouts of weak chuffing in between. The cat had been frightened—more than frightened—by her injury.
Injury?
“I was…” With those two words, Declan pulled away from her, his touch retreating, and she whined. She—Abby—not the cougar. Her body cried out for him. Even weakened by her wound, she wanted Declan close—touching her, surrounding her. “No.” She lifted her arms—or tried to. Fabric held her captive, her body so weak she could hardly toss off a sheet. “Don’t go.”
She didn’t care if she sounded needy, like a child desperate for comfort. His scent, his presence, soothed whatever invisible rough edges continued to cut into her body and soul.
“Easy,” he soothed, palm returning, fingers rubbing small circles on her skin. “I’m right here.”
Abby purred—purred—and nuzzled him. She rubbed her cheek on his rough palm and fought against the sheet until she could half roll toward him. An ache bloomed in her thigh, but it was nothing compared to the pain she’d experienced shortly after being…
“I was shot.” She breathed deep and released the air with a soft sigh. “You killed everyone?” She kept her eyes closed, but raised her brows with the question. Declan grunted, and she took that as his agreement. “Then you stole a car?”
He snorted. “An expensive car that didn’t belong to a single parent or a person who had someone ill in their life. You were also happy that they had good insurance.”
She quirked her lip in a half smile at his annoyance. It sounded like her. Even shot, she worried about others. “It’s fuzzy after that.”
She ceased nuzzling Declan but kept her cheek rested on his hand. But just because she stopped moving didn’t mean he did. His thumb traced circles on her cheekbone, the touch gentle and sweet, even though she knew how quickly his hands could kill.
“I’m surprised you remember that much.” His words were soft. “More surprised that you’re awake.”
“Take a licking and keep on swimming.” Old wounds, old emotional pain and agony, pushed forward with that memory. “’Cause if you’re not the winner, you might be dinner.”
He stiffened. “What?”
Abby pried one eye open and considered that a victory. She’d worry about the other one in a minute. Specifically, after she’d stopped Declan from wolfing out. She got one arm free and reached for him. Weakness dragged her down, and the farthest she got was his forearm. She’d aimed for his face, but any amount of skin would work.
“Shhh…It’s a herd joke.”
“A what joke?” She felt—rather than heard—his growl. It vibrated through him, encompassing his body, and soon the tremble filled her as well.
“Seal shifter herd. Did SHOC do any research on me?”
He slowly nodded. “Yeah, but—”
She shrugged. “The alpha didn’t have the patience to deal with a cougar in his seal herd, but if I was going to be part of the herd, I’d be part of the herd.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He seemed to get angrier with her every word, and the more upset he got, the more fur appeared. Dark gray fur slid free of his pores, gradually overtaking his cheeks before heading south and stretching across his shoulders.
She quirked her lips in a teasing smile. “You’re sexy when you’re all mad. Did you know that?”
“Abby,” he snapped at her, but she didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. Or afraid. She should probably fear a large wolf shifter that’d managed to kill so many men so quickly, but she didn’t. Maybe tomorrow.
“Wild animals don’t care if you’re a shifter. Swims took us into predator territory more than once.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“It’s over.” She shuddered, a hint of that old fear surging inside
her. “It’s over.” She whispered the words to herself more than to Declan.
“Is it?” So soft, so caring. Surprising considering his past.
“Yeah.” She kept her voice low. “I left and I’ve never been back.” She had no reason to return. No family, no friends…nothing.
“Did you find a pride? Isn’t that what cats do?”
“Lions do that. The rest of us are pretty solitary.”
“So you’ve been alone.”
“I’ve been me.” She shrugged. “I’ve been happy.”
“Liar.”
She chuckled. “Maybe. But I don’t have to evade killer whales.”
“Just SHOC and UH,” he drawled.
“But not whales.” She wiggled in place and tugged on the sheets shielding her body. She got her other arm free, and the room’s cool air slipped beneath the soft fabric. That was about the time she realized—“I’m naked.”
“Yeah.” Declan’s attention pulled from her and he focused on the wall, a hint of pink staining his cheeks.
“And you’re blushing?”
That earned her a glare. “You were shot and covered in blood.”
Oh, right. Shot. Now she remembered. She’d let him divert her for a little while, but reality intruded once again. “Where are we? And the fish? It’s dead, right? I think I remember that.”
Declan shook his head. “Not a fish, a wolf. His name is Pike, and he’s alive.”
“That’s a shitty name for a wolf.”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Your filter still hasn’t returned.” He shook his head. “He’s only pretending to be dead, and his name is what he wants it to be.”
“Is he on the run from the mob? Is it like witness protection?”
“Abby.” He growled low. He probably wouldn’t make the sound if he knew she didn’t find it the least bit threatening. He’d just saved her life. He wasn’t going to kill her now.
“If it’s not the mob, what is it?”
“Complicated.” That growl continued, his expression grim.
Day of the Dragon--Two full books for the price of one Page 38
