Chapter Twenty-Three
‡
The next morning, as the rising sun shone down on the logging road, Gawain rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, then yawned. They were almost at his car.
Ahead of him, Owen and Darcy were discussing how she could have caught her breakfast quicker. Instincts were good, but knowledge and practice were also needed, which was why cubs got hunting lessons.
As teens, he and Owen had often been assigned to instruct the newly shifted. Even when young, his littermate had been a fine teacher, although cranky if he thought a youngster wasn’t trying.
Darcy, though, poured her heart into trying…no matter what she was doing.
Like last night…
At dark, despite the chill air, they’d shifted to human long enough to enjoy a hot, fast mating. Gawain smiled slightly, rubbing the scratch marks on his chest. After a day as a panther, Darcy’s instincts had been more animal than human, and she’d clawed him when she peaked. Owen had bite marks on his shoulder.
Seeing her work afterward, she’d turned a brilliant red.
Gawain grinned at the memory. By the Mother, he loved her.
He and Owen had talked over their hopes after she’d fallen asleep. And they’d tried to make plans.
Gawain shook his head. For decades, he’d made lifemating bracelets for shifters. Shouldn’t he have learned the steps of the relationship dance? Then again, most shifters didn’t choose a female who was ignorant of mating, let alone lifemating.
“Gawain.” Owen looked back over his shoulder. “Let’s detour long enough to swing by that camp from the highway. We can get the street address for Tynan and Wells.”
“Aye.”
An hour later, Gawain could scent the tension in the car as he left Highway 20 and drove down a gravel road. Not much here. A few small farms. A couple of fancier vacation homes.
“We’re getting close,” Owen said from the back seat. “Darcy, drop to the floor.”
“What?”
“They might recognize you.”
“Oh, right.” She undid her seatbelt and slid down to the floorboard, turning to lay her head on the seat. She’d be invisible to anyone outside.
A wooden stockade type fence loomed farther down the road.
“That’s it,” Owen murmured.
Not slowing the car, Gawain surveyed the property as well as the surroundings. To his surprise, the gate—also wooden planks—stood open. At the front of one of the houses, males were unloading a van. Excitement surged through him.
“The soldiers are back,” Owen told Darcy.
“Really? Oh my Gods.” She started to sit up, caught herself, and stayed flat. Her fingers closed in a fist.
Poor catling. To be so close and not be able to act. Gawain patted her shoulder.
Owen met Gawain’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Get us out of here.”
“Aye.” Gawain took the next corner and the next, returning to Highway 20. His jaw clenched as he thought of the floodlights, the high log walls. “Breaking them out of there won’t be easy.”
“We’ll manage,” Owen said.
Visibly shaking, Darcy crawled back up to the seat.
With a sigh, Gawain reached over and captured her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Breathe, sweetling.”
Her attempted smile almost broke his heart.
The drive home was mostly silent.
As they neared Cold Creek, Gawain wasn’t able to take the silence any longer. He squeezed Darcy’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head. “I hate this. Shifters will have to risk their lives to get the villagers free. But if they do, the Scythe will know there are more shifters. They’ll hunt down anyone who helps—and everyone who gets free.”
“Let them look.” The snarl from the backseat said Owen looked forward to meeting the Scythe.
Darcy was still looking out the side window. “My brothers probably know places to hide. We can go—”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Owen snapped.
“What?” Darcy turned to stare at him.
Gawain shot his gnome-brained littermate a frown, then recaptured Darcy’s hand. “He means we want you to stay with us. Live with us.”
Be our lifemate. But it was too soon to say that. Even the love words dancing on his tongue would be premature.
Her mouth dropped open, and her gaze was…shocked. Fearful. “Stay in Cold Creek? With you?”
“Aye.” Owen leaned forward and gripped her shoulder. “With us. We want you to stay with us.”
“No. I can’t.” She shook her head hard. “I’d put you in danger.”
Gawain winced, not needing to see Owen’s reaction. Talk about insulting a cahir.
“We can handle danger,” Owen growled.
“Why can’t you understand? Once my brothers are free, I have to leave. The Scythe will search for all the shifters who escape, and they’ll start with these forests.”
Owen’s growl deepened. “They won’t find you.”
“They will.”
The way Darcy shrank into the seat like a terrified cubling made Gawain want to shred something. Someone. “Darcy…”
“You don’t know the Scythe,” she whispered. “They’re politicians. Heads of giant companies. Even if we weren’t shifters, they wouldn’t let us be free, not with what we know. They’ll burn the forests to ensure we never talk about them.”
The certainty in her voice sent a chill through Gawain.
Like a panicking deer herd, she only saw flight as the answer.
She was wrong. Descended from the Fae wild hunt shifters, the Daonain had never been prey animals—they were predators.
Searching for a reasoned answer, Gawain turned onto the road to the lodge. “Your warning means all the Cosantirs will be prepared. We’ll manage whatever comes, Darcy. But we’ll manage better with you beside us.”
She was shaking her head as he stopped the car in front of the building.
“I can’t stay. It wouldn’t work.” She jumped out of the car and turned.
“Darcy,” Owen’s rough voice was gentler than Gawain had ever heard. “Don’t you know how we feel about you?”
“Don’t.” Her big dark eyes filled with tears. “I have to leave and keep you safe. We can’t… There can’t be more.”
Pain ripped through Gawain as his hopes began to disintegrate. He held out his hand, willing her to stay. “Catling, we lo—”
“No.” Her tears spilled over, and she pressed her hand to her mouth. “You mustn’t. Please. There can be nothing between us. Nothing.”
She slammed the door shut and ran into the lodge as if all the wolves in the forest were snapping at her heels.
“That…did not go well.” Gawain turned toward his brother and saw his misery. Pity slid into his heart, joining his own pain.
His littermate had avoided emotional entanglements all of his life. Now, for Darcy, he’d ventured out of his cave, left himself vulnerable—and gotten clawed.
Life wasn’t fair sometimes.
“She’s scared, brawd,” Gawain said softly. “For us. For Cold Creek.” To give her space and time, he turned the car around and headed toward their house. “Females aren’t reasonable if afraid someone will get hurt, and she loves us.” He could feel it from her, like the warmth of the sun.
At the silence, he checked the rearview mirror.
Owen stared out the side window, face unreadable.
Gawain’s chest constricted. His littermate was so fucking unfamiliar with love.
“I know,” Owen said, finally. “I know she cares about people. About us. It is one of the things I lo…”—he cleared his throat and said even more firmly—“love about her. She has reasons to be afraid.”
“Aye.” They needed to discuss what to do. But between Gawain’s business and Owen being cahir, they’d never be left undisturbed. “Let’s go up to the lake and think this out. Figure out how to reassure her that everyone will be safe.”
There was silence from the back.
Gawain parked and got out.
Joining him, Owen gripped his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Brawd, if we cannot find a path to safety, if she would feel more secure elsewhere, then…we’ll go too. Our place is with her.”
Love swelled as Gawain stared at the determination in Owen’s face. “Aye. This is the trail we’re on. We’ll run it together. All of us.”
*
When Darcy slipped into the lodge, tears were streaming down her face. At the sound of low voices, she froze and realized the dining area was filled with males, including the Cosantir. They’d see her if she went up the stairs.
Shay or Zeb would follow her to see what was wrong.
Hands over her mouth to keep from sobbing aloud, she veered into the library room to the right. There, she curled into a chair and let the tears fall.
Gawain and Owen wanted her—to stay, to live with them. Oh, if she only could. Love for them pounded through her with each beat of her heart.
She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she were hugging them close, as she had last night when she’d finally gotten to snuggle, kiss, and touch to her heart’s content. Licking and tasting. Feeling the implacable hands guiding her to please them. Being teased and driven out of her mind until pleasure seared away everything. Being held between their solid male bodies. Hearing Owen’s rough laugh and Gawain’s smooth chuckle.
She loved them—her Owen, so tall and deadly, and her Gawain as muscular as the biggest mountain lion.
To live with them? That would be a dream come true.
And then a nightmare if the Scythe found her hiding in Cold Creek. Horrifying images shattered her. The cahirs would be the first to fall—her cahir. Gawain would charge into battle, too. Her friends, the townspeople, everyone would die—or worse. The Scythe would capture some. Put them in cages. Nightmarish memories and fears blurred together until she felt screams building up in her head.
No, no, no. The minute the villagers were free, she had to leave with them. She and her villagers would hide…somewhere…and this town would be safe.
She’d have to stay away from Owen and Gawain until then, or her resolve wouldn’t hold. Because there was nothing she wanted more than to be with them. Forever.
With a determined breath, she wiped her eyes. Be strong. It was her job to ensure that her males—and yes, all of Cold Creek—were safe. “Take care of them for me, Mother of All.”
Chin up, she walked out of the library and across the lodge. She didn’t know where Owen and Gawain had gone, but since neither male had carried a phone on their trip, the Cosantir didn’t yet know they’d located the shifter-soldier camp.
In the dining room, the cahirs were gathered around a table. Like a caged animal, the Cosantir paced back and forth beside the windows. Everyone looked up as she entered.
“Darcy.” Alec’s expression was grim. “Where is Owen?”
The room stank of fear and anger. “What’s happened?”
Alec made an impatient noise.
“Owen and Gawain dropped me off and left. Maybe they went to their house?”
Calum paused in his pacing, glanced at the big grizzly cahir, and tilted his head toward the door. Ben hurried past her, pausing long enough to pat her shoulder gently.
“What’s happened?” Darcy repeated.
Calum looked at her, rage streaming from him. “The Scythe took Victoria.”
The words took a second to penetrate, then stabbed deep. No. Oh, no, no, no. Not Vicki. Dear Mother of All, she was pregnant.
The front door of the lodge opened, and someone strode quickly across to the dining room.
The scent of human reached Darcy, and she growled before recognizing Vicki’s former boss, Wells.
The spymaster stepped past her and spoke to Shay. “The sergeant is missing?”
“Aye.” Shay turned to the Cosantir “Wells is in one of our cabins here—for the cubs’ birth, and I asked him to join us now. We could use his help.”
Visibly struggling for control, Calum was staring at a wall map of Seattle. Without turning, he merely nodded.
Darcy’s hands clenched into fists, hating the Scythe with every drop of her blood.
Joining his brother, Alec leaned against him, silently sharing fears, strength, and support. After a minute, he cleared his throat. “Brawd, can you tell Wells about the note?”
Calum took an audible breath. When he turned, his lean face was icy cold. “A typed note addressed to me was found on the counter in Angie’s Diner. It says they have Victoria, and if I don’t turn myself over to them, they’ll kill her and the baby. A van is waiting for me on Main Street.”
Alec’s low growl was echoed by the cahirs.
“Are you positive she’s been kidnapped?” Wells’s face showed no expression, but his icy blue eyes held murder.
“Yes. They took her, stole her from our town. From us.” Alec’s voice rose, and he slammed his fist down on a table. With a loud crack, the wood split down the middle.
Shay gripped his shoulder. “Easy, a brathair-faoirm.”
Like a furious cat, Alec strode across the room and back…and then said in a controlled voice, “She’d gone to visit Evangeline, an elderly human living on the outskirts. Three male humans captured Vicki there and knocked Evangeline out. She called the minute she woke. I tracked the scents to a car.”
Oh Vicki. Guilt made the whole room darken. I brought this down on them. Was Vicki all right? Pregnant or not, she wouldn’t have surrendered; she’d have fought.
Wells echoed her thought. “I’m surprised the humans survived.”
Alec’s smile was vicious. “From the amount of blood—human blood—on the floor, one didn’t.”
“That’s good to hear. Now…from what Darcy has said about her previous captors, the Scythe don’t bluff. They will kill the sergeant if they don’t get Calum.” Wells leaned forward and flattened his hands on the table. “I’m not Daonain, but it seems unwise to let these power-hungry bastards have a Cosantir.”
As the cahirs nodded, Darcy felt cold sliding into her belly and recognized it as fear.
“It would, indeed, be unwise.” Calum’s gaze was cold. Stark. “However, the God should have enough power, even in a city, to kill me as soon as she is released. They will get nothing—”
“By the God,” Shay shouted. “Don’t even talk like that.”
Zeb growled, low and dark. “Have some faith in your cahirs, Cosantir.”
Reaching out, Alec shook Calum. “Think, brawd.”
The Cosantir hissed at him, then bowed his head and pulled in a breath, visibly trying to overcome the fear for his mate.
Darcy bit her lip. The Scythe knew the value of hostages, especially with the Daonain. A beloved female in danger would drive the calmest shifter to become an unthinking animal.
“Forgive me, cahirs.” Calum’s voice was rough.
Every one of his warriors bowed a head.
Including Zeb who held a phone. “Tynan, we need a location for the female villagers’ prison, right the fuck now.”
The room went silent as the Seattle cop’s voice came through the speakerphone. “You’re in luck. I correlated my info with the Scythe van’s tracker log that Wells sent me. I’m pretty sure I found the property.”
Darcy clasped her hands together, hope rising.
“Odds are they’d take Vicki to that prison.” Alec scowled. “But if we free her and the other captives there, the Scythe will cut their losses and kill the shifter-soldiers. Their location isn’t—”
“We found the forest camp,” Darcy interrupted. “And the males are there. We saw them this morning.”
“It appears we have ourselves a hunt.” Shay ripped the map of the Twin Sisters area off the wall and laid it on a table.
“Two hunts.” Zeb joined him at the table. “We need to attack each place at the same time.”
“Aye.” Calum tapped his fingers on the map. “But how do we get into the Seattle prison and kill the guards before they turn on their hostages.”
Wells spoke up. “I’m not fond of open frontal assaults, especially against anything with concealed machine gun embrasures.”
“Trouble is, getting anyone in from the rear is…difficult.” Alec shook his head. “That blackberry thicket perimeter is damn clever. Only a cat shifter could use the trees to get over it. But fruit tree limbs and two hundred pound cats are a bad combination.”
“By the time we get organized and drive there, it’ll be nearly dark.” Zeb scowled. “If the grounds are floodlighted, even feline eyes can’t compensate enough to see through tree shadows. You won’t be able to see well enough to assess the branches.”
Alec’s shoulder slumped. “Wait until tomorrow? That won’t…”
As the cahirs talked, fear skittered across Darcy’s nerves. They mustn’t postpone an attack. The Scythe wouldn’t permit a delay—they’d push Calum by hurting Vicki and her unborn cubs. But even if Calum turned himself over, they’d never let Vicki go.
Yet Alec was right. Most of the fruit tree branches were too small to support a full-grown male shifter. An experienced shifter might have been able to follow her scent through the trees—but too much time had passed.
A shifter could use her scent to get through the trees now…if she went back in.
Terror wrapped fingers around her body, squeezing the air from her lungs. She couldn’t go back. No.
But Vicki…Vicki was her friend. Had stood up for her against her mate. “I know this isn’t a democracy, oh guardian of the territory, but I’m all for mercy in this case.”
“I need to show you.” Her voice was not even a whisper.
The cahirs had shifter hearing. And they all turned toward her.
Wells frowned. “Did you say something?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can get back in the same way I got out. And the cat shifters can see well enough—and smell well enough—to follow me in the dark.”
Zeb growled. “No, little female. You’re not going back there.”
Oh, she wanted to agree so, so badly. Tears filled her eyes. “We can’t let them kill Vicki or her babies. And you need me to get in.” She pulled in a shuddering breath.
Zeb studied her with black eyes and then glanced at Alec. “To risk a female is…wrong. But we need her.”
“By the God.” Staring at her, Alec gripped the table. “I don’t want…”
“You must,” she whispered. “For Vicki.”
After a long moment, he nodded. “Aye. We need you.”
There was no sense of victory, not with the paralyzing fear lodged in her bones. Don’t think about returning. Not now. “But what about the shifter-soldiers?” My brothers. “Can we get them out and remove their trackers? The camp has a stockade fence and floodlights. Owen set off an alarm and—”
“Wait.” Alec paced away from them, stared out the window for a moment, and rubbed his hands roughly over his face. When he turned, his expression held only a cold resolve. He walked back and picked up Zeb’s phone. “Tynan, you know about human security systems. Take charge of breaking the shifter-soldiers out. Tonight. Collect what you need, get moving that direction, and we’ll send you help.”
“My brothers and their friends won’t believe anything you say,” Darcy said toward the phone. “They’ll think it’s a Scythe trick. A test.”
“Those Scythe feckers could well make a male suspicious.” Tynan was silent for a second. “Right then. Darcy, did ye wear those clothes I left you and did you re-hang the bag?”
“Yes. And yes.”
“Then I can convince your lads.” He paused. “Alec, were you saying the poor shifters will have to carve the GPS devices from their bodies?”
“Aye. Then and there,” Alec said.
“Right. Consider it done.”
Wells cleared his throat. “How many of the shifters from here will assist in the two attacks?”
Shay answered, “Should be quite a—”
“Not as many as you think,” Calum said.
The cahirs looked at him in surprise.
“Somehow the Scythe learned about me and Victoria. Do they also know Cold Creek has other shifters? We must get the elderly, females, and cubs to safety.”
Tensing, Zeb and Shay turned toward the kitchen and the sounds of Bree cooking. They wouldn’t leave their mate to be taken.
“In that case,” Alec said, “how about those trained shifter-soldiers that Tynan is going after? They could be useful at the Seattle prison.”
“Too far to get them there in time to help,” Zeb said.
Wells frowned. “Not if I can arrange a helicopter.”
Calum nodded. “Do it. The males would want to be part of getting their sisters free.”
“They would,” Tynan said over the phone. “But can they? Cutting out the trackers will leave them bleeding and limping.”
“Send Donal,” Calum told Alec. “He can heal them enough that they can fight.”
Tynan grunted. “You explain it to him, then. My littermate hates patch jobs.”
Alec pulled out his own phone and swiped a number. “Donal, we need you. Meet us at the lodge—and come prepared for a battle out of the territory. You’ll be doing quick and dirty repairs.”
“Out of the territory?” Donal’s sonorous voice came from the speakerphone. “By Herne’s holy prick, where am I to get the energy to heal? Do I look like a Gods-benighted battery? And you want me to—”
When Alec thumbed the speaker off, the cursing faded to an indistinct rumble.
The cahirs…except for Alec…were grinning, and even Darcy felt her lips curving up.
“That’s my tactful brother.” Tynan chuckled. “What’s the location of the forest camp?”
“It’s off Highway 20.” Darcy explained how to get to the stockade from both the road and the mountain meadow.
“Got it. Alec, the females’ prison camp is in the Gatewood area of West Seattle.” Tynan rattled off the address.
Shay bent over the map and circled the spot with a pencil. “If the cats follow Darcy in, they can deal with the machine guns.”
Follow Darcy in. Her stomach was one frozen knot.
“Attack after dark,” Zeb said.
Shay nodded. “If we can kill the floodlights, we’ll have an advantage.”
“Kill the power to the neighborhood,” Wells suggested.
The cahirs nodded agreement.
“How do you want to time the attacks? One first or…” Tynan asked.
“Simultaneous,” Zeb said. “Keep them too busy to think—or harm anyone.”
“Shortly after dark is probably the longest I can stall them.” Calum looked at his cahirs. “I will arrange to surrender myself just before the attack, so they will believe everything is going their way.”
“Why would they wait for you?” Wells asked. “I wouldn’t.”
“They can’t calculate when their note will reach me…which is why we could have this meeting. In a minute, I’ll take my phone into the mountains and call them from there. Once I call, they’ll understand it will take me a while to return to Cold Creek.”
Wells gave a nod of approval. “Nice. They’ll track your phone’s GPS and confirm your location. They won’t do anything to the sergeant until they know you won’t show up. It’ll give us time to—”
“I will show up.”
Zeb growled. “Cosantir, no need to risk yourself. They will be armed and—”
“When I enter the Scythe car in Cold Creek, I will be in the heart of my territory.”
Darcy’s mouth went dry as she saw the power flickering around the Cosantir. And the fury banked in his black, black eyes.
She wouldn’t want to be the Scythe soldiers trapped in a vehicle with the chosen of the God.
“Brawd…” Fear showed in Alec’s green eyes before he sucked in a breath and turned to Darcy. “Darcy, we’ll stop by our place. Vicki’s black sweats will work well for sneaking around—and shifting unexpectedly. You’ll ride with me.”
She rubbed her damp palms on her jeans. “Okay.”
Alec shot Wells a look. “If you ride with me, we can finish planning on the way.”
Wells tilted his head. “Of course. Let me get supplies from my van.”
As Darcy moved toward the door, she saw Alec put a hand on his littermate’s shoulder, and her heart broke for them.
I’ll get her back for you. I will. She blinked hard and walked out onto the porch.
Thank the Gods that Owen and Gawain weren’t here. They wouldn’t be in danger.
And yet, everything inside her wished they would be with her.
*
As Owen and his brother loped back down the mountain trail, he was satisfied with their planning on how to reason with Darcy. The mountain lake had been peaceful, easing his emotions, and letting him think clearly.
Gawain had pointed out that Darcy hadn’t rejected them. She was simply terrified that the Scythe would hurt the people she loved—including him and Gawain.
The thought, true or not, that she loved him was enough to make his heart stutter.
They’d figured out some ways to ease her worries. If all else failed, they’d leave with her, maybe take her into Canada. Zeb, Shay, and Ryder had traveled extensively before settling in Cold Creek, and they’d know safe places. Most territories would be delighted to welcome a blademage, a tinker, and a cahir.
Regret nagged at him as he ran. He loved the Cascades. Loved this territory. Loved Cold Creek. Few Cosantirs were as evenhanded—or as powerful—as Calum.
Fucking Scythe. By the God, he really wanted to shred the weasels into bloody tatters of skin and flesh. Growling, he leaped a log and increased his speed.
With an annoyed chuff, Gawain kept up.
They wouldn’t get to see Bonnie’s cublings grow up. That hurt. Well, maybe someday he and his tiny family could return and…Owen almost stumbled. Maybe they’d be bringing back cubs of their own.
Behind him, Gawain hissed. He’d scented something or someone.
Owen slowed and smelled a bear even as he spotted it. Coming fast. Huge. A grizzly.
Ben.
Gawain moved forward to trot beside Owen as they met the cahir.
Ben trawsfurred without coming to a complete halt. “Need you now, cahir, at the lodge.” His Texas accent was thick in the gasped words. “The Scythe has Vicki. They want to trade her for the Cosantir.”
Vicki. The unborn cubs. The Cosantir. Fury blasted through Owen, and he snarled, his paw lifting, claws out.
Ben jerked his head. “Go.”
Owen took off, running down the trail, Gawain right behind him.
*
If your officer’s dead and the sergeants look white,
Remember it’s ruin to run from a fight;
So take open order, lie down and sit tight,
And wait for supports like a soldier.
Wait, wait, wait like a soldier…
This was proving to be a thoroughly fucked-up day—and reciting Kipling wasn’t helping. Vic snorted. Wait for supports? She despised waiting for backup and always had.
Sitting on the floor behind a bolted-down metal bed, Vicki scowled at her cell. For fuck’s sake, she was tired of being dumped in windowless basements. A recessed space held a tankless toilet. There was no other furniture. The bed’s blanket and sheet were now on the floor with her.
She leaned her forehead on the mattress. God, but she hurt like hell.
When they’d arrived at Darcy’s prison, the asshole beside her in the backseat had jumped out to talk to the gatehouse guard. Vic’d slid out and dashed for the gate. As her pursuers caught up, she’d deliberately fallen, and due to her I’m-a-bowling-ball shape, she’d landed hard and collected some ugly scrapes. Being backhanded by the pissed-off guard hurt worse.
None of the damage was important. She’d left her scent and her blood near the gate, and she counted the action a success.
The fight when she was kidnapped sure hadn’t been. God, she hoped Evangeline was all right. Vic shook her head. That sweet old woman had walloped one of the assholes with a table lamp. She hadn’t hit him hard enough though.
Vic had done better. She’d grabbed a table knife and rammed it into the biggest bastard’s heart. Unfortunately, the third attacker had knocked her off her feet.
She lifted her arm and grimaced. The shoulder joint still worked…barely. If she hadn’t had to guard her belly, she might have dealt with all three. “Dammit, kid, you sure screwed up my skills,” she whispered and rubbed her stomach.
He, she, or they had screwed up her escape, too. Big-time.
With a sigh, she looked down at the soaking-wet jeans she’d removed.
Her water had broken…because she was in labor. Congratulations, Sergeant, it’s official. You’re royally fucked.
Good thing she’d assisted in a couple of births when undercover in third world villages. At least she knew the basics—starting with a person didn’t deliver babies when wearing jeans.
She’d be giving birth in a basement. As a captive. She rolled her eyes. Over the past months, when she’d whined, Alec would laugh and say mothers loved to tell their cubs all the trouble they’d caused when in the womb. Apparently, Alec and Calum’s mother had busted an ankle, and she’d never let them forget.
Well, you little terror…or terrors…you’re going to get an earful from me.
Another labor pain caught her. Oh, fucking god, it hurts. As her stomach turned to concrete under her hand, she heard footsteps in the hallway. Can’t scream, can’t scream. She gritted her teeth.
The door opened. One of the bastards who’d escorted her to the basement stood in the doorway. This one had tried to cop a feel, and she’d planted a fist in his gut. He’d stayed out of reach since.
If you come in, I’ll kill you. She’d try her damndest, at any rate. She let her gaze convey that.
He sneered. “You think hiding behind the bed will keep you safe?”
Speaking would mean unlocking her jaw. And screaming. Sweat broke out on her forehead as the contraction lasted and lasted.
“It won’t, bitch.” His coarse laugh held ugly anticipation. “The Director will be down after he finishes his supper. He says you’ll give him good information, or we’ll rip that freak out of your belly and cut its fingers off in front of you.”
You can try, asshole.
With everything except her shoulders and head concealed by the bed, she fingered the knife in her ankle sheath. When they came for her, she’d do what she had to do. For as long as she lived.
“Filthy beast.” Annoyed by her lack of reaction, he left, slamming the door behind him.
Calum, Alec, hurry. Please, please, please hurry. I’ll wait as long as I can.
But they didn’t even know where this place was.
As fear flooded her system, she curled on the floor and let the pain take her.