Renny tried to run, but it was already too late. Geoffrey sprang forward, pouncing on her before she made it around the coffee table. He knocked her to the floor, slamming her cheek on the corner of the wooden board on the way down. She felt the sting of the impact and a trickle of blood on her skin. Damn, that was going to leave a mark.
Her head spun with temporary dizziness, then ached violently when he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her knees.
“You should never have run from me, Renny,” he snarled in her ear. “I could have been so much nicer to you.”
“Fuck off and die,” she hissed, clawing at his hand, trying to loosen his grip. He responded by backhanding her across the formerly uninjured side of her face.
“How about I just fuck you, and you just die afterward?”
Heavy booted feet stomped into the foyer. “Time to go, boss.” Renny recognized Will’s distinctive voice immediately. It always managed to carry an edge of mania, in spite of the deep timbre. “Cops were out the door the minute that alarm sounded. We gotta move before they manage to cut us off.”
She glanced up and saw the crazy coyote framed in the doorway, his clothing woodland camouflage and his favorite rifle clutched in one hand. Of course. If anyone could have shot Draper from a distance through a reflective surface, it was Will Molina. The shifter was even deadlier with a gun than he was with fangs and claws.
“Fine,” Geoffrey snapped, “but you’re driving. I’ve been waiting too long to put this little reunion off another minute.”
Renny fought like a wildcat, or rather like a cornered she-wolf. She dug her heels into the floor and abandoned her clawing attacks at Geoffrey’s grip on her hair in favor of simply attacking him. She twisted and slammed a fist into his side, low and sneaky over his kidney. He howled and responded by throwing her to the floor. Immediately his weight came down on top of her, pinning her in place.
“Give me that rope,” he barked. “I don’t have time for this shit.”
She heard Will grunt, then the sound of something exchanging hands. She bucked fiercely, trying to throw Geoffrey off of her, but he dug his knee into her spine until she shrieked at the pain.
Curses spat from her lips, but two against one weren’t even odds, and the pair of coyotes overpowered her. Two sets of hands grabbed her wrists and ankles, yanking them together into a brutal improvised hog-tie.
She screamed her frustration and cursed herself for not shifting faster. She might have managed it while Geoffrey had her pinned, but if she tried now with arms and ankles tied behind her back, she’d end up dislocating both hips and shoulders in the attempt. That wouldn’t exactly leave her in fighting shape. She felt certain it was why her captors had chosen this particular tie.
Renny might have been restrained, but she wasn’t gagged, and she screamed at the top of her lungs while she was hauled off the floor and carted outside to a waiting van. The coyotes tossed her in the back, Geoffrey climbing in beside her while Will slipped behind the wheel and stowed his rifle against the passenger seat.
“Hold on,” he warned his employer. “I want to get as much distance as I can between us and these crazy shifters before they pick up our trail. Plus, I want to get to the highway ASAP. The roads out here suck.”
“Whatever. Just drive,” Geoffrey snarled, and reached for her shirt.
Zeke managed to catch up with Mick just before he reached the rendezvous point where the teams had left their vehicles. The lion had to dig claws into his shoulder to stop him, because he wasn’t wearing any clothes to grab on to. He hadn’t wasted the time or energy for another shift before he took off after his mate. He’d run through the damned woods naked, and he’d do the same down the streets of Seattle if it would help him save his mate.
The pain didn’t stop Mick, so Zeke exerted enough force to spin him around. “Wait a fucking minute!” the lion snarled. “You can’t—”
“Back the fuck off, cat! My mate is in danger. That coyote’s already got her. I can sense it.”
“Not arguing.” Zeke wrenched open the door of a burly SUV emblazoned with the sheriff’s seal. “Just let me drive. I don’t trust you behind the wheel right now. Besides, there were two coyotes missing from the cabin. You might need backup.”
“Exactly.” Linus Russu climbed into the vehicle behind Mick and slapped the back of his seat. “So, let’s get moving already. We’ve got fifteen miles to cover and a woman to rescue.”
Zeke slammed down the gas pedal and took off in a shower of gravel. The rear end skidded a little during the sharp turn onto the logging road that would take them back to the highway, but the tires quickly found their grip.
The police scanner chirped and a voice came over the loudspeaker.
“All available units, please respond. Code three alert. OOS not responding. Alarm triggered at high-priority location at on Dry Creek Road. Possible 41–40. Proceed immediately.”
Mick had the only house on Dry Creek Road, and there was only one reason he could think of for the alarm to go off while the officer on scene was not responding. He braced his hands on the dashboard, feeling his claws gouging holes into the vinyl.
Zeke cursed and flipped on the lights and sirens. He sent the truck flying across the rough terrain, barely bothering to slow down when they hit the pavement. In fact, he sped up.
“Don’t worry,” he said, mouth grim and eyes focused on the road. “We’ll find her.”
Mick didn’t bother to reply. He couldn’t. His mouth was too misshapen and he realized he had unconsciously shifted into his wereform in the front seat of the SUV. Apparently, his wolf thought he needed to be ready for war.
Linus leaned forward. “We won’t find her at that house. The coyote would be an idiot not to grab her and run like the devil’s on his heels.”
“Great deduction, Sherlock. You want to tell me which pedal makes this thing go faster now?”
The tiger ignored the sarcasm. “You said he’s from California, right? He headed for his den as soon as he got her. He’ll want to get back to his own territory where he feels safe and in control.”
“No shit. Do you see me heading west? Sunset was behind us. I’ll be able to pick up 97 in another four miles.”
“No, head straight south. Cut over to 903 as soon as you can. We want to pick up 90 before they get too far ahead of us.”
Zeke jerked and shot the tiger a dubious glance. “Ninety-seven would take them more directly south. That’s the road they’re going to be taking.”
“Yeah, and 90 is a hell of a lot bigger and faster. You take 97, you’ll be chasing their heels for hours. Take 90 and really make this bucket move, and we might get across 970 in time to cut them off.”
The deputy hesitated only an instant. “I hope to hell you’re right, Shere Khan, because our buddy over here is going to kill something real soon, and I’d rather not be the only thing available when he does.”
Tires squealed as he changed direction and tested what an official emergency vehicle could be capable of.
Renny fought and squirmed for everything she was worth, but it was hard to fight off an incipient rape with both hands and feet tied behind your back. Of course, it would also be damned hard for Geoffrey to consummate the act without untying at least her legs, and when he did, she would not be holding back.
The van lurched over a particularly rough patch of ground, temporarily interrupting her attacker. Geoffrey slammed his shoulder against the side of the vehicle and swore.
“Watch the fucking road, asshole,” he growled. “What the hell is going on? Shouldn’t we be on the highway by now?”
“We are, but the things these yokels around here call roads are nothing more than fucking goat tracks,” Will snapped. “This is a major fucking interstate artery, and the goddamned thing’s barely two lanes wide. Shit, if this is what they call a highway, you can forget all about a smooth ride. You want one of those, you’ll have to get it from the bitch.”
He sneered over his shoulder, his gaze raking across Renny’s half-naked form. Geoffrey had already managed to tear off her shirt and slice through her bra with a wickedly sharp pocketknife. Scraps of fabric dangled from her elbows, because once he had her breasts exposed, he seemed uninterested in finishing the job.
The alpha coyote chuckled evilly. “I don’t care if it’s smooth or rough, but she might.” He leered down at her, pressing the tip of the blade against her bare chest. “Or maybe you like it rough, sweetheart. What do you say? You get hot when your ‘mate’ slaps you around a little?”
She spit in his face. “Unlike you, Mick doesn’t have to kidnap and rape a girl to get her to touch him. I wanted him from the first time I set eyes on him. You? You made me throw up in my mouth a little.”
Renny half expected him to backhand her again, but instead he drove a solid fist to her belly, knocking the wind right out of her. She choked and gasped for air.
“You might want to watch your mouth, bitch, before I find a way to silence it,” he bit out, looming over her. “No one said I have to fuck your cunt first.”
She actually whimpered and immediately hated herself for it. She was not some stupid fucking damsel in distress who would swoon and beg for mercy while her virtue was brutally stolen from her. This was not a 1970s bodice-ripper romance. This was her life, and she would damned well survive anything this motherfucker could dish out.
Pride and determination had her baring her teeth and letting her fangs descend. “Go ahead,” she hissed. “Try shoving your dick in my mouth, you asshole. I double-dog dare you.”
He woofed and attacked the fastening on her jeans.
“Oh, shit!”
The shout was the only warning they got before the van made a sharp, unplanned ninety-degree turn.
“What the fuck!” Geoffrey shouted.
The good news was that he shouted it from the other side of the van. The sudden motion had thrown him off of her before he got her jeans much past her hips and hurled him against the back of the driver’s seat. The knife skittered out of his hand and across the floor. Renny immediately threw herself toward it.
It didn’t have quite the effect she would have gotten had she been able to actually use her arms and legs to launch herself. Instead, it wound up less like a surge of motion and more like a desperate, semi-humiliating wiggle. She probably looked more like a beached whale than a graceful, lethal wolf, but she could care less. She needed that knife.
“Incoming!”
Will shrieked the warning too late.
The rear doors of the van practically exploded outward, wrenched open by the most terrifyingly gorgeous thing Renny had ever laid eyes on. Her mate loomed in the opening, seven solid feet of hard-packed muscle. She had never seen a lupine in wereform up close, had never tried to assume the shape herself, and it took her breath away.
Thick, dark fur covered his body from head to toes, longer on his head, neck, and shoulders, almost like a wolf’s ruff, plush and short on his chest and belly. His features appeared not remotely human, his face elongated into a wolfish snout with a full set of predator’s gleaming fangs. Only his eyes remained vaguely human, still blue and piercing and filled with so much rage and violence, she almost backed away from him herself.
“Motherfucker!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Renny saw Will in the front seat diving for his rifle, but he never touched it. Instead of moving forward, his body flew backward out the driver’s door and his scream was cut off by the bloodcurdling roar of an adult tiger.
Mick leaned his monstrous upper body into the cargo area and growled a low warning, gaze fixed and staring at Geoffrey. At his prey. He didn’t climb in, though, and she had to guess it was because in his current form, the van was too small a space to allow him to move around freely. He’d want the coyote to come outside where he could kill it properly.
Renny could see the fear in the coyote’s eyes, but Geoffrey quickly masked it with a sneer. “Well, Michael, long time no see,” he taunted. “I have to say you’re really not looking your best. I have to wonder what my dear sister would have said if she could see the way you’ve … let yourself go.”
Okay, Renny rapidly revised her opinion of her stalker’s native intelligence. Only a fucking moron would taunt an animal as close to losing control as her mate appeared to be. It was like voicing a death wish.
She eased herself a little farther to the side of the van, trying to get as far out of the line of fire as possible. She did not want to get in the way of what Mick obviously had planned for his target. Ever heard the term “collateral damage”?
Something low and menacing rumbled out of the werewolf’s mouth, and even though it bore almost no resemblance to actual English, Renny didn’t need a translator to work out the hidden message. Something along the lines of, “Die, coyote scum,” would be her guess.
“What’s the matter, wolf?” Geoffrey asked. “I thought you wanted to kill me. Are you afraid to come in and get me?”
Mick fell back, still growling long and low, and beckoned the coyote forward with deadly claws.
The coward laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think so, Michael. I think I’m pretty comfortable inside here and out of the wind. You want me, you’re going to have to drag me out.”
“You sure about that?”
Zeke joined the conversation by sliding into the recently vacated driver’s seat and pressing the muzzle of his pistol against the back of Geoffrey’s head. Renny saw the coyote go pale, his eyes widening.
“I think that you have two choices at this point, coyote,” the deputy purred. “You can stay where you are and let me shoot you in the head like the bullying fucking coward you are, or you can go out those rear doors and fight my friend there like a real alpha. Now, I’m pretty certain both those options end up with you bleeding out and begging for mercy. The question is whether your friends get the deposit back on this shiny new rental van. So, what’s it going to be?”
Mick watched his friend hold a gun to the asshole coyote’s head and prayed like hell he wouldn’t pull the trigger. A bullet to the head would bring too easy a death for Geoffrey Hilliard. Mick wanted to rip him into tiny little pieces, just to ensure he suffered.
In other circumstances, his own thoughts would have disgusted him, but this was a special situation. This man had spent months and months stalking and tormenting Mick’s mate. He had driven her from her home, destroyed her belongings, sent his lackeys chasing after her, and now kidnapped and attempted to rape her. As far as he was concerned, the coyote’s suffering would only begin to balance the scales.
“So, what’s it going to be?” Zeke asked.
Geoffrey’s Adam’s apple bobbed, then his features hardened and he yanked his shirt off over his head. “Fine,” he spat. “We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. I’m not afraid of your fucking mutant beast form, Michael. It might make you bigger and stronger, but let’s see how fast you can move.”
The man finished stripping, shifted into his fur, and dove at his enemy.
Mick’s tongue lolled out in a canine grin. It was about fucking time.