Kept

Before, she wouldn’t have considered involving a human; it was too risky. But she’d run out of options. At the main road, she hailed a taxi.



“633 Oak Circle.”



The driver gave her an appreciative once-over. Greta smiled, glad she’d remembered her pill. Though the heat would have to be pretty bad for this guy to inspire her lust. He had a scruffy beard and was wearing flannel, for God’s sake. Mother Nature could only take one so far.



“Here we are,” he said unnecessarily when they pulled up to Charlee’s house.



“Thanks. Could you wait while I go get some money?”



“You tryin’ to stiff me, sweetheart?” His voice held a touch of menace and some darker violent part of Greta itched to do damage.



Instead, she took a breath to steady herself.



“Just. Wait.”



“Fine, but if you aren’t out in five minutes, I’m comin’ after you.”



Greta’s eyes glowed golden, and she hissed. She didn’t have time for this crap.



His hands shot up in surrender. “Take all the time you need, baby.”



Greta knocked for a full two minutes before a bleary-eyed Charlee opened the door, her red curly hair askew.



“What’s wrong?”



“I need money for the cab first.”



Charlee went and got her purse. When the taxi rolled away, she asked again.



“I need you to smuggle me out of the city.” Confusion marred Charlee’s face. “Huh? Just drive away.”



“I can’t. I know this is going to sound weird, but you were on board with the cat thing and the sorcerer thing.”



“Didn’t that work out?” Charlee tied the belt around her bathrobe and led Greta inside.



“It was just a way to keep me in a holding cell, so no one in the tribe against this could warn me or help me escape.”



“So tell me again why you can’t just drive out of the city.”



“You know the toll booths on all the major exit roads?” Charlee nodded.



“Preternatural border guards.”



“Why not just take the back roads? There aren’t any tolls there.”



“There are wards to keep therians from crossing. The toll roads exist because there are exemptions. And some species can pass at will, like vampires. Therians have to have permission to leave and when they do, they can go through the toll roads and present paperwork.”



“Why therians?”



Greta sighed. “I can appreciate your curiosity, but I don’t have time to get into therian politics right now.” Ten minutes later she was in the trunk, blankets wrapped tightly around her, with an opening in the top to breathe through.



The blankets served to dampen her magical signature. With any luck, the guards wouldn’t sense it.



Charlee’s gray Honda Civic rolled to a stop.



The tollbooth guy’s voice rumbled just outside, asking to see ID.



Greta tried to remain calm. It could be a routine check, though she had no idea why the preternatural border patrol would do something so obviously sinister if they weren’t sure they had someone trying to cross the border. If it was a false alarm they’d have to call in a vampire to do a memory wipe, and vamps hated being bothered during their prime hunting hours.



“Charlotte Devlin?” The guard asked.



“Y . . . yes?”



“If you wouldn’t mind, we’d like you to open the trunk.” Shit. Greta began frantically clawing through the layers of fabric.



“You aren’t authorized to search this vehicle.” Love her heart, Charlee thought she was still operating in a human world with democratic rules.



“You won’t remember about your rights being ignored in the morning,” he said. “Now open the trunk before this has to get ugly.”



Greta heard the key turn in the lock; the trunk was flung open.



She was poised and ready to jump. Her claws dug into the guard’s cheek as she leaped off him. He yelped and cursed into his walkie-talkie for backup.



She was panting as she ran, desperate to put as much distance between herself and whoever the guard was calling, unsure which road might lead her to some temporary haven of safety. Finally, she spotted an open window. Someone without air conditioning had left their window open a few inches, only a screen protecting them from burglars. She wondered how such people didn’t end up in ditches and on the six o’clock news.



Greta ripped the screen with her claws and hopped inside. She crept into a bedroom to search through the closet, careful not to wake the middle-aged woman snoring loudly in the bed. Greta’s nose wrinkled in distaste at the clothes she had to choose from. The woman was twice her size and had a large collection of dresses with big flowers printed on them. The colors were bright and spanned the entire spectrum of the rainbow. She sighed and put one on.



Sticking to the shadows, she crept outside and paused in an alley behind a dumpster to catch her breath. A gloved hand covered her mouth. She struggled, but it was one of the tribe, someone stronger than her.



“Don’t scream,” Simon whispered. Greta’s eyes widened as they caught something bright and silvery reflected in the streetlight. A hypodermic needle poised over the vein in her throat. Then the world went away.



Chapter Nine



AYNE woke to a pounding he was sure was coming from Dthe inside of his skull until he opened his eyes and realized it was the door. His fingertips skimmed over the bump Greta had left. Jesus Christ, she’d gone insane on him. He couldn’t figure out why she’d thought he planned to kill her. Surely, the last activity they’d been engaged in together wouldn’t lead her to that conclusion.



He crossed the room in three strides and threw the door open.



His expression changed from hope to anger. “You’re taking your life in your own hands by being here. You’re lucky I didn’t kill you that night.”



The ward on the door dissolved, and Jaden glided past him into the house. She was dressed for a night on the town in a long backless black gown with a slit up one side, and strappy black heels that in another time and place would have made his mouth water in anticipation.



“You never could have killed me.”



Dayne wrapped his hand around her throat. “Care to make a wager?”



Jaden pushed him off her with ease and rolled her eyes. “As fun as this is, I’m not here to rekindle our old affair. Greta got captured.”



“This is so unbelievably transparent. My IQ might have dropped several points the first time you rolled in playing the temptress, but I’ve grown as a person since then.” Jaden smirked. “I’m sure.”



“I think she’s perfectly safe. And if she isn’t, what do I care?”



“What, indeed.” She shrugged and stretched out on Dayne’s couch. “It’s your call. But she’ll be sacrificed as soon as the sun sets.”



Dayne was momentarily stunned by the sunlight streaming through the windows. He shook his head and pointed at the door.



“Leave.”



“I know you care for her. Help me.”



He was annoyed by how well she could still read him. “Why would you give her my address in the first place?” Jaden looked at the ground, the confident facade falling around her feet. “Because I knew you could keep her safe.”



“You didn’t think sending her here might endanger her?”



“It’s not in your nature to harm an innocent. You know you never felt that way about me.”



One side of Dayne’s mouth inched up in a grin. “Because you weren’t, in fact, an innocent.”



“True enough.” Jaden withdrew a thin lady’s cigarette out of a red leather pouch and placed it between her lips. Her eyes remained on his as she lit the tip and inhaled the nicotine.



Playing the seductress had become her full-time role, Dayne mused. She didn’t seem aware she was doing it. Or if she was, she was barking up the wrong tree. She’d folded her legs up underneath her, and now she unfolded them, crossing them primly, allowing one thigh to peek out of the dress.



Goddammit. He was going to let Jaden lead him into a trap again.



This time he was killing her. The shapeshifter was far too dangerous to be left alive.



“Very well,” Dayne said, finally. “I’m sure Greta shed some fur around the house.” He’d need it for the spell to find her. “And Jaden, if this is a double-cross like the last time, you die. Don’t expect old sentiments to keep you safe. If you’re fucking with me this is your last chance to leave quietly.” Jaden was already looking for cat fur.



“Wakey. Wakey.”



Greta opened her eyes to see Simon grinning down at her. She was in a steel cage, with barely enough room to turn around. Her wrists were tied in front of her with coarse rope.



She looked down to find herself dressed in a flowing white gown, right out of a Cleopatra movie. She would have felt somewhat ridiculous if it weren’t for the mind numbing fear.



Even with her new level of control, she should have shifted by now. But she knew she’d never shift again. Greta mourned the loss of the grass and the hunt and the stars that used to blur overhead as she ran. She felt sluggish as the drugs flowed through her veins, dampening everything. Her keen sense of smell, vision, hearing, her ability to scent emotions. It was all gone. She felt . . . human.