Betraying the Pack (6 page)

For a few minutes, silence
reigned in the room as they each allowed themselves to filter the bouquet of
her scent. The only audible admission that Bailey was more than just any woman
appeared in the increased heart rate for each of them—even Wyatt.

One by one, they moved away
from her, Parker seating himself on the motel’s sturdy faux leather chairs,
while Jaxon hopped up onto the dresser. Gavin and Wyatt remained standing,
wearing troubled frowns.

“Parker’s right. Something
about her is off.”

“But she didn’t smell like that
the night we met her, though, right?” Gavin queried.

Wyatt’s mouth tightened into a
thin line. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really interested in pinpointing her scent
at the time. But at the same time, I’ve never heard of someone’s smell
changing.”

“Or how about the fact she
might have gone from human to something new?” Jaxon piped in.

“Like what, smart-ass?”

Parker bit back a grin as Wyatt
turned his formidable glare on Jaxon, who just shrugged and grinned. At times
it was hard to tell who led their group, Gavin with his laid-back ways or Wyatt
with his single-mindedness when it came to tasks.

“No need to kill me with your
killer laser gaze. I’m just saying, if it’s possible for Roderick, Nathan’s
dad, to turn into a vampire, then who’s to say there’s not other things out
there that we don’t know about?”

A grin stretched Parker’s face.
“I hate to say this, but the pup might have a point. If we believe Nathan and
the whole undead thing, then why not humans turning into yummy-smelling things?
I mean, none of us are disputing the fact there’s something odd about her,
right?”

“And I get the impression I’m
not the only one whose beast is chomping at the bit to take a bite,” Gavin
added.

“Awoo!” howled Jaxon before
laughing as he ducked the pillow sent his way by Wyatt.

“Enough screwing around. And
shut up a bit, or do you want her waking up and hearing us talking crazy?”

The thought of freaking Bailey
out sobered them instantly. Parker’s eyes flicked over to her where she still
slumbered on the bed. The idea of marking a woman had never crossed his mind
before. Then again, he’d never come across one who made him want to bay at the
moon.

However enticing her pheromones,
it didn’t mean fate earmarked her for him. Looking down at her again, Parker
bit back a sigh as his wolf howled in his mind. Okay, maybe she was, but to
become her mate, he’d first need her to get past the fact that, at six foot
seven, he stood taller than most men, and that his bulk was solidly muscled. Her
first reaction upon seeing him didn’t exactly encourage him. Ignoring the
physical aspect, judging by his pack brothers’ reaction, he’d also have to
resign himself to the fact he’d have to share her, with Jaxon and Gavin at the
very least. With Wyatt, he still couldn’t be sure, because when it came to
duty, Parker doubted Wyatt would let a woman get in his way, mate or not. Of
course, all this assumed Bailey would want to share her affections with more
than one man. Most human females didn’t.

While pack law dictated Lycan
females needed to mate with at least a pair of males of her choice, human
females weren’t subject to their laws. Despite what their wolves wanted, if
Bailey chose one, they’d have to abide by her decision. Did he stand a chance if
it came to him competing with his brothers?

Of course all this musing might be moot. She could wake up and hate us
all on sight, or have the personality of a shrew.

Somehow, though, he got the
feeling Bailey would end up just right.

“So what’s our next move?”
Wyatt asked.

“I can think of a few,” Jaxon
piped in with a swirl of his hips.

Parker snorted as both Gavin
and Wyatt shot the pup a glare.

“Now we take her somewhere
safe. Back home, to the pack.”

The next time she woke, Bailey
feigned sleep and listened to . . . nothing. She let out her pent-up breath. It
embarrassed her to know she’d fainted, but the shock over discovering she’d
gone missing for five days still made her tremble.

What happened to me?

That question kept repeating
itself over and over in her mind. A blank slate met her mental queries. Could
Gavin and his friend have lied? Possibly, after all, what did she know of her
blond cowboy and his friends? Up to this point, she’d assumed he told her the
truth, but what if he deceived her? Perhaps he belonged to the plot to kidnap
her and had simply lulled her into thinking he was her savior.

If that were the case, then she
was in big freaking trouble. Yet, her inner radar for danger remained silent.
Should she trust her gut, or her mental musings?

Frustration made her grunt and
roll over, forgetting for a moment her situation. Eyes still clamped tight, she
froze, feigning sleep just in case she wasn’t alone, a sham that didn’t fool
anyone.

A wry voice spoke. “Too late. I
know you’re awake.”

Prying open one eyelid, she managed
not to shriek as she noticed the dark-haired stranger from the bar sitting in a
chair across from her. He still appeared just as darkly good-looking, with a
bit of rough stubble along his jaw that enhanced his full lips, which pulled
into a tight line at her perusal.

“Just how many bloody friends
does the cowboy have anyway?” she grumbled as she sat up. She noted she still
wore the T-shirt Gavin had given her, so assumed no molestation had occurred,
unless they’d kept her clothed. But judging by how she felt—neither sticky nor
sore—she assumed they’d left her alone.

Probably because I’m not their type. Good-looking guys like that must
have the hottest, and skinniest, girls crawling all over them.

One short and chubby plain Jane
obviously didn’t come across as an irresistible temptation, and gave credence
to Gavin’s statement that he’d rescued her by happenstance.

“There’s four of us. I’m Wyatt.
You’ve met Gavin, fainted for Parker, and will, unfortunately, at one point
make Jaxon’s acquaintance.”

“What are you? A gang of some
kind?”

A tilt to his lips made her
heart hitch, because awake and looking him full-on, she couldn’t help notice
that this stranger, Wyatt, appeared quite attractive in his own right. Where
Gavin was blond and blue-eyed, Wyatt seemed descended from Indian roots, with
his blue-sheened black hair and dark, piercing gaze. His skin tone appeared tan,
that or he was naturally swarthy. A curious part of her wondered, when he took
off his shirt, if that smooth, buttery skin would extend to below his
waistband. She almost slapped herself at the thought.

Now is not the time to lust after handsome strangers.

“We prefer the term ‘pack,’
actually. But enough about our boring group. Gavin tells me you want to go
home.”

“Yes.” She practically hopped
out of the bed. “Will you take me? Gavin said it was too dangerous.”

For a moment, he just stared at
her, and she could have sworn she saw another presence behind his eyes, a
hungry
one. Nonsense, of course, but it
didn’t stop a prickling sensation from spreading through her. Yet, she didn’t
get the sense of any danger.

“It might be a tad perilous,
but with me and the boys at your side, you should be safe enough.”

Bailey’s smile wilted. “Don’t
tell me you’re buying into this whole conspiracy thing. I mean, a couple of
guys slipped me a Mickey. Happens all the time.”

“And the five days you’ve been
missing?”

Red eyes bored into hers while cadaverous fingers . . .

She shook her head. “No. I
don’t believe it. I don’t know what you and your friends’ game is, but I’m not
buying it. I mean, look at me. Don’t you think if I’d been held prisoner for
five days, I’d have some injuries to show for it?”

“I have been looking, and I’ll admit,
I’m baffled. So why don’t you tell me how you healed them?”

She gaped at him. “Oh my God.
You’re just as loony as the rest of them. Healed them?” She giggled, perhaps a
little too shrilly, as the memory of her disappearing scratch from the derelict
house came back to haunt her.

She refused to believe her
recollection. It had to be the drugs that made her think she’d injured herself
and miraculously healed. Anything else . . . was just plain nuts.

A snort was his reply to her
mirth. “Whatever, sunshine. Here.” He tossed her some fabric, and she caught
it, her brow knitting until she realized he’d given her some track pants. “Get
dressed. We’re leaving.”

“Turn around,” she ordered.

With a sigh of annoyance, he
gave her his back, a very broad back that pulled at the fabric of his shirt.

Tugging on the pants, she
noticed they didn’t fit, at all, and she had to roll the cuffs as well as yank
the drawstrings as tight as possible. Not exactly an attractive look, but at
least she wasn’t bare-assed anymore.

“Now what? Are you taking me
home, or am I calling a cab?”

He didn’t answer her at first,
instead opening the door to stick his head out and loosing a sharp whistle. He
then whirled around and fixed her with a dark stare that she began to recognize
as his natural state. “We’ll drive you. But I warn you, home isn’t the haven
you’re looking for.”

Irritated at his cool manner,
she stuck her tongue out at him in a childish gesture of defiance, then
immediately regretted it as his placid mask slipped. For a moment, his eyes
seemed to blaze, and his lips curled into a taunting smile.

“Careful, sunshine, or I might
just put that thing to good use.”

Bailey clamped her lips tight,
but she couldn’t stop the coiling warmth that settled low in her belly at his
words.
Perhaps he’s not so cold after
all.
She didn’t know if she liked that or not.

In silence, she followed him
outside, her bare feet making only a whisper of sound as she hit the concrete
walkway outside the motel door. She noted the sun shone brightly, and she
peered up at the sky to see it just rising from the east, placing the time
around early morning. Bringing her gaze back down, she saw Wyatt had left her
and stood by the open door of a large black SUV.

Grimacing at the gravel that
separated her from him, she placed one tentative foot on the rough surface.

“Bloody hell.” Wyatt no sooner
muttered the expletive than he returned to her side and scooped her in his
arms. Startled at her sudden loss of balance, she flailed her arms wildly before
clinging to him.

“I’m not going to drop you,” he
murmured, the first hint of humor finally edging his tone.

“Says you. I know I’m not a
lightweight,” she retorted.

“A woman should have curves, so
I’d say you’re just about right,” he replied, surprising her before he dumped
her into the backseat of the truck. Before she could answer, or even assimilate
his compliment, he’d slammed the door shut and clambered into the front.
Peeking forward, she found her attention snagged by a familiar face.

“Gavin!”

“Hey, darling.”

“Are you guys really taking me
home?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think you’ll
want to stay,” he replied cryptically.

“That’s what you think,” she
grumbled, leaning back in the seat and watching the scenery fly by. She didn’t
engage them in further conversation, preferring not to let their craziness
infect her. Although, she feared it was too late. The closer they got to her
apartment, the more the tension mounted inside her. Her inner voice growled
without words in her head, the meaning clear.
Danger.

When they pulled up in front of
her building, realization struck. “I don’t have my keys.” She didn’t have a
single item left from her sojourn to the bar before her abduction.

“Yes, you do.” Gavin turned
around and handed her the purse she’d thought lost.

A suspicious glare shot his way
made him chuckle. “Put those daggers away. We found it outside of the bar, in
the parking lot.”

“Oh.” She flashed him a
sheepish grin. Clutching tightly at her purse, her nervousness mounting, she
didn’t know what to say next, so she settled for something trite. “Well, thanks
for the ride.”

Wyatt snorted before he climbed
out. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily.” Seeing him at her door, she
slid across the seat to get to the other side, but Wyatt, his reach long,
snagged her and yanked her out.

“Hey. Put me down.”

“Would you stop acting up? You’re
going to draw the wrong kind of attention.”

“Maybe that’s what I want,” she
snapped, but she did stop struggling, especially when she saw Gavin perusing
their surroundings with suspicion. When Wyatt deposited her inside the
vestibule for her building, she didn’t run. Why bother? They’d probably just
follow.

Given the cold of the tile
floor, she almost wished she’d kept her mouth shut and let him carry her further,
but she wouldn’t ask. Holding her head high, trying to act as if she were alone
and not wearing men’s ill-fitting castoffs, she strode the length of the short
hall to the elevator and stabbed the button.

A tingling sensation at her
back let her know without turning that Gavin and Wyatt both followed. The
knowledge warmed her and eased some of her trepidation. The elevator arrived,
and she stepped in, then moved back as two large male bodies crowded in after
her. They didn’t ask her what floor, but Wyatt unerringly hit the button for
the correct one.

Bailey caught her lower lip
between her teeth.
This makes no sense.
Why isn’t my inner warning bell going off?
These guys knew way too many
things about her and her disappearance, yet, here she went along with them
blithely.

She felt no panic in their
presence, although she did have a pile of mounting questions. Starting with,
why did their proximity make her heart race and her cleft moisten? Not just for
Gavin, but for Wyatt too.
I’m turning
into a slut.
Odd, because she’d never owned a high sex drive before. Sex
was something she did to please her boyfriend, not because she got that much
out of it.

Ignoring them in an attempt to
calm her burgeoning interest didn’t work because they smelled so damned good.
She’d never noticed a man’s scent before, but now, stuck in a small box with
them, she couldn’t help breathing it in. Absorbing it. Enjoying it . . .

The ding of the elevator
snapped her out of a sensual olfactory feast, and she raised her gaze to see
them both staring at her.

“Soon, darling.” Gavin’s softly
spoken words whispered over her skin like a caress.

Cheeks blossoming with color,
she wondered if they’d somehow caught on to her interest. How embarrassing.

She ducked her head to their
low chuckles.

“Hallway looks clear. I’ll take
point.”

Gavin took the lead down the
hall, while Wyatt stuck to her rear. It shouldn’t have surprised her when her
blond cowboy stopped right outside her door, but it did. Just how many secrets
did they keep?

“Keys?” he questioned.

Startled from her distrustful
musings, she rummaged in her purse for them. It was with cold and clammy
fingers that Bailey inserted her key into the lock, the sense of wrongness
increasing.

The door opened onto chaos, and
Bailey walked in, her mind numb with shock.

“What happened to my home?” she
cried, wading through the mess. Everywhere she looked, destruction reigned,
with her couch slashed to ribbons, paper shredded all over, and glass, from her
kitchenware, littering the place. She didn’t even want to contemplate what the
various runny stains on the walls were. And the stench. She gagged, and brought
a hand up to her nose.

“They came back,” Wyatt stated
grimly.

Stunned, Bailey didn’t resist
when Gavin tugged at her body so she faced him. Blue eyes, dark with concern,
stared into hers. “We need to leave, darling.”

“No, we need to call the cops,”
she said through lips gone numb with shock. “These jerks can’t get away with
trashing my home and kidnapping me. I don’t care about the paperwork. These
guys need to pay.” The more the reality of the crime sunk in, the more she
found herself burning with a need for revenge.

“The police won’t catch them,”
Wyatt replied in an acerbic tone.

Whirling, Bailey fixed Wyatt
with a glare. “So what do you suggest I do? Wait until they come back? Move away
and live in fear, wondering if they’ll follow?”

“Neither. You’re coming with us,”
Wyatt announced.

Shrill laughter bubbled from
her. “Like hell. I don’t know who the heck you and your friends think you are,
but I am not going anywhere with you. And I suggest you leave before the cops
show up, because I’m calling them whether you like it or not.” Bailey waded
through the detritus, in the direction of a side table, in the hopes of finding
her phone.