Between Two Wolves (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Menage Werewolf Romance) (8 page)

“Okay. So let's say I can suspend
disbelief long enough. You're a wolf in human clothing?”

He cracked half a smile. “You could say
that. It's a little more complicated. There's a history with Jericho and me,
and a back story that's a bit long in the tooth.” His smile widened. “Sorry.
Couldn't resist the pun.”

I managed something of a smile, I think.
I wasn't sure. Most of me felt numb. “Why were you a wolf when I saw you?”

“I wasn't sure who you were yet. Friend
or foe. When I'm in wolf form, I see things differently. Literally. My senses
are heightened—smell, hearing, sight. I get a better view of who I'm
looking at. A more accurate view, in most cases.”

Some of the tension seeped out of me,
despite hearing Colt explain he was a wolf. Listening to him, hearing his
voice, the calm way he was talking to me, somehow made it seem okay. Maybe even
believable. Somehow, some way.

“You're hypnotizing me, aren't you?” I
made the effort to shift my gaze to the fire. “That's a thing you can do,
right? I watch television, you know. I know how this works.”

He laughed softly. “Red, if I was into
mind control, my life would be a whole hell of a lot easier. And television
usually gets it wrong. Vampires don't sparkle; shifters don't use mind control.
At least not all the time.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Believe me,
life as a shifter isn't easy. This has been one of the better days of late.”

“Oh.” I wasn't sure if that included me,
or something else. My mind was spinning, too many questions piling up, fighting
to be the first one asked. But before I could pick the front-runner, Colt stood
up.

“Something's wrong. Jericho should be
back by now.”

Bewildered, I scrambled to my feet,
tripping over the little pile of firewood. Colt was already on the other side
of the fire, heading toward the gap where Jericho had gone.

“What do I do?”

“Stay here.” Colt turned back, face set
in rigid lines. For a moment the wolf played over his face, the eyes glowing in
the light of the fire, his hair catching the slight breeze.

“But what...”

A howl cut through the soft night air.
The sound chilled me to the bone. I stepped backward, tripped over the big log,
landing hard on my ass, the wind knocked out of me. Colt stopped, half turned
toward me, half turned toward the forest. If he saw what was coming out of the
forest almost on top of him, he never flinched.

All I saw was a ball of gray fur wrapped
around what looked like a big rag doll. I screamed and struggled to sit up, to
catch my breath, to get my bearings. For a moment everything was obscured by
the fire, the figures blurred, red-tinged. I finally got to my feet, and what I
saw wasn't any less chilling from that vantage point.

The figures separated, the rag doll
taking the shape of the nameless ranger. The gray fur resolved into another
wolf. From the way Colt swung around, teeth bared at the ranger, eyes narrowed,
I knew this wolf wasn't just any wolf.
This was Jericho.

The ranger and Jericho faced off briefly
on either side of the fire. Jericho snarled, exposing brilliant white fangs,
advancing stiff-legged around the flames. The ranger crouched, moving in the
opposite direction, keeping the fire between them. There were rips and tears in
his khaki uniform, some of them edged with blood. Colt looked strangely
hesitant, poised halfway between Jericho, the ranger, and me.

I realized, a split second too late that
the ranger and I were on a collision course. He realized it a split second
before I did. I went left, he went right, but I couldn’t avoid him. He slung an
arm around my neck, pulling me against him.

He smelled awful, not just of dirt and
sweat, but of something rotten. I wondered vaguely if he was some kind of
shifter as well. But it was getting hard to breathe, and the world was going
gray and fuzzy. I struggled, but the man was much stronger than I was.
Struggling just got harder and harder, so finally I gave up, concentrating on
breathing. And even that was getting harder by the second.

“Let her go, Weatherly. She's not the one
you came for.”

“Yeah. But she's the one I've got.”
Ranger Weatherly jerked me upright so hard my feet left the ground. That just
made everything worse, made breathing next to impossible. I went limp, not by
choice, but because I had no choice.

“Back off. And call off your dog, Colt.
You know what I want, why I'm here. And if I can't have you, then I'll take
this one. You know I can snap her neck in a heartbeat.” Something cold tickled
the skin below my jaw. Colt's eyes narrowed and Jericho whined. I guessed
Weatherly had added a knife to the mix to back up his promise to break my neck.

The world was really going black now, the
ranger's voice getting faint. My head fell to the side, and through half-closed
eyes I saw Colt on the other side of the fire. Jericho stood by his side. Their
expressions were identical, anger mixed with fear, mixed with confusion. Those
weren't looks that instilled confidence in me.

But I couldn't blame them, didn't blame
them. I tried to tell them that, tried to talk, tried to send telepathic
messages. I was leaving the conscious world and the last thing I wanted them to
feel was responsible.
Silly thought...

I jerked awake. My neck hurt and I tried
to lie still until the zings of pain in my body stopped, not sure what, if
anything, was broken. I tried to open my eyes, then realized they were open,
but I couldn't see. For a really long horrible moment I thought I'd died and
this was purgatory, that I was stuck in a place where I was unable to see or
hear or speak. But then I realized I wouldn't have this much pain if I were
dead. Slowly bits and pieces came back to me: the fire, of Colt and Jericho —sex—the
ranger. Weatherly. It occurred to me that I finally knew his name. I was on
something more or less soft, and something was stuck in my mouth. So I was
blindfolded, gagged, and lying on a smelly mattress.
And I was alive
.

“Hey, you're awake.” The voice was close,
sounding absurdly happy about the fact.

I jerked again, another wave of pain
shooting down my arms. My hands were tied behind my back, but I could wiggle my
fingers. They worked. The pain meant I was alive, and that even if I was
injured, I wasn't paralyzed. It might have been a small thing, but I was
suddenly very happy to feel pain.

But why Weatherly had me, and what he
intended to do, that I wasn't very happy about.

“Let's get better acquainted.”

Hands touched me, my face, pulling my
hair hard enough to make my eyes water. I grunted...I was pretty much over
reveling in pain now. All I wanted was to see and to be able to sit up. The
blindfold came off. I looked up at Weatherly.

I wanted to laugh, which was impossible
with the gag. Weatherly looked far worse for wear than I felt. Whatever
happened before they tumbled into the clearing, Jericho had gotten in few good
scratches and bites. Weatherly's uniform was shredded in places, the edges
caked with dried blood, torn skin visible beneath a few of the bigger tears.
And if he smelled bad before, he smelled even worse now. Sweat, old and new,
dirt and blood. And I sensed the sharp tang of fear on him. Not a pleasant
combination.
But what the hell did he have to be afraid of? I was the one
tied up and gagged, not him.

Weatherly wrenched the gag out of my
mouth, pulling my hair again, my scalp aching. I glared up at him, mustering up
as much bravado as I could.

“Listen…Weatherly…I don’t know what your
game is, but I’m pretty sure Colt and Jericho aren’t going to just let you take
me. They’re probably on their way here, right now.” At least I hoped they were.
How much loyalty did an-almost stranger garner?

“I’m sure they are. And that’s just fine
by me. The more the merrier.”

“What do you want with me?” The whole
disjointed conversation by the fire, the part about Jericho and Colt - all that
could wait. I wanted to know what my part in this was. And I wanted him
talking, so I could find a way to get my hands free, or get him to untie me. I
wanted to take a swing at him so bad I could taste it.

“I don’t want you…or I didn’t. Until I
saw you on the path. But then that damn wolf showed up.” He loomed over me for
a minute, then must have decided it was awkward bending over to glare at me.
Grabbing my shoulders, he yanked me upright. I had no balance, wavered from
side to side. And then fell backward, my head hitting the wall. I closed my
eyes as a new pain added itself to the mix.

“The wolf showed up.” I heard a footstep
and opened an eye, watching as Weatherly turned, pacing across the small room.
It gave me a chance to look around. There wasn’t much to see. The room was
bare, just the mattress I was sitting on, a few chairs sitting at random
angles, a table shoved in the corner. All in all, not someone’s permanent
residence. Probably a deserted rental cabin from the 50s, long forgotten,
long-abandoned.
Perfect place to keep a hostage.

“The wolf showed up. The wolf I was
after, one of them, anyway.”

“So why bother with me?”

Weatherly paced a few steps toward the
door, twitching open the tattered curtain that hung on the window. He stared
out into whatever was out there, whatever he could see in the dark. Then it
struck me.
He was a wolf…a shifter.
He could see in the dark, just like Colt
and Jericho. And that meant he could change, just like they could. And with him
as a wolf, I didn’t stand a chance.

I wiggled my hands, turning my wrists.
The rope bit into my skin, burned like hell. But I thought there was some play
in them. Maybe it was my imagination, but it was the only thing I had to hold
on to right now.

Weatherly moved to another window, looked
out, then turned back to me. I froze, my wrists screaming in pain, my shoulders
rotated at some unnatural angle. Something changed in the way he looked at me,
something darker crossing his features.

“You were going to be collateral damage,
at first. Get you out of the way, nasty hiking accident. Didn’t matter if you
knew what any of this meant. You just needed to go away. But then…you hooked up
with those two. How the hell did that happen? I tracked them forever, and
there’s never been a woman. But now, there’s you.”

“I’d be happy to just bow out right now.
No harm, no foul…”

“Not so fast. Plans change.” He crossed
the little room, almost standing on my feet. “I can use you.”

He grabbed me again, pulling me upright.
“Those guys used you. I can use you too.”

I was pretty sure his idea of use wasn’t
going to be anywhere as fun as what happened with Colt and Jericho. I
struggled, trying to disguise my attempts at freedom with frantic wiggling.
Something loosened in the ropes around my wrists, one loop slipping. Weatherly
apparently wasn’t very good at knot tying.

“Use me how?”
Did I really want to
know?

“I can make you one of us, like me…” He
leered at me, baring his teeth. They were the same brilliant white as Colt’s
and Jericho’s, a little longer than normal, far sharper than any human teeth
should be. I jerked back, trying to get away from him.

“Bite you, mark you, make you mine.
You’ll be mated to me, and I can have what they have.”

Whatever he was saying was lost on me.
I’d stopped paying attention after the mention of bite. I didn’t want to be
bitten, not by Weatherly, or anyone else.  My heart galloped wildly in my
chest, and I struggled not to go into full-blown panic mode.

Another loop of rope fell away, and for a
surprised second I felt hope that I may actually stand a chance of getting away.
Then I let fear replace exhilaration. It wasn’t hard. I heard Jack’s voice in
my head, telling me to wait, look for my opening, to keep my eyes open. That I
just needed to focus, to be patient.

But Weatherly had other ideas. He pulled
me against him, his big hand grabbing my hair. For an instant I wished I’d
chopped all this hair off, given myself a buzz cut. That way men wouldn’t be
able to yank me around by it.

He pulled my head back, eyes drifting
from my face to my neck. He smiled, if that’s what it could be called. My body
had gone numb, limp, partly by design, mostly out of my control. The only thing
really moving was my heart, thumping along at a dizzying pace.

“It’s not going to hurt…” He was focused
on my throat, his arm slackening against my back.
Just stay cool…don’t
telegraph…

Weatherly dropped his head and I was out
of options. I brought my knee up, aiming for his crotch. I hit his thigh
instead, and it was like kneeing a tree. But it gave me an opening. I pulled
against the hand holding my hair, setting my scalp on fire, and swung for the
moon with my left. I hit him, hard, in the side of the head.

The blow didn’t do much damage, but it
did startle him. He took his arm away from me, but held on to my hair. I swung
again, a wild right that whistled through the air past his face. I could hear
Jack’s snort of disapproval in my mind. Waste of energy, throwing useless
punches.

“Knock it off, little girl. I’m not
impressed with your little hissy fit. Just accept…” He pulled me up by my hair
until I was standing on my toes. I sucked a breath through my teeth, trying
really hard not to scream at the pain.

“Not so tough now, are you?” He dragged
me backward toward the mattress. “I think there’s a better way of doing this.
Giving you swinging room is dangerous.”

He pushed me down onto the mattress,
following me, his big body covering mine, finally letting go of my hair. I hit
him wherever I could, pounding his back, his shoulders. It was like punching
stone. I wanted to scream, but he was crushing my chest with his, and getting
air was getting harder.

I brought my knee up again. This time I
connected with something that brought a reaction from Weatherly. He grunted,
his hands stopping in the middle of the act of tearing off my clothes. I tried
again, but Weatherly reared back, slapping me across my mouth. I tasted blood,
and for a horrible moment, everything went black.

“You know, I like a fighter, but this is
ridiculous. You’re being downgraded to collateral damage again.” Weatherly
fumbled at his belt, and the cold sharpness at my throat snapped me back to
reality.

“I’ve been chasing these bastards long
enough. They’re the last of their clans, and I’m the last of mine. They’ve
taken everything from me, my land, my clan…and left me out in the cold. I’m
tired, and I’m tired of you. You’re not worth making a mate; you’d be nothing
but a thorn in my side.”

He slid the knife against my throat, and
for an instant I wondered if he was joking, or if this was just some weird sort
of foreplay. But he pulled back, grinning, a terrible expression full of lust
and hate, and so many clashing emotions that I had to look away. I tried to
turn my head, and then I felt the warm rush of blood seeping from the place
he’d cut me.

“There. Just lie there and die.” He
pushed off of me. I wanted to sit up, to scream, to do something. But a tiny
part of my brain told me I was probably better off just being still, and for
once I listened to that little voice.

I reached up, almost tenderly, touching
my neck. When I pulled my hand away, there was blood, so much blood. Too much
blood, it seemed. I closed my eyes, putting my hand over the cut, praying to
every deity I could imagine to let me live, to end this nightmare.

The door crashed inward, and I opened my
eyes, watching as it shattered into a thousand rotten splinters. Behind it was Colt,
as wolf, followed by Jericho, as human. Colt shook himself briefly, eyes locked
on Weatherly. Weatherly still held the knife and he rushed the wolf, bring the
knife around in a big arc. It all looked like slow motion. His footing is
off…wild punch…won’t connect…

It didn’t. Colt ducked easily, coming
around, snapping at Weatherly’s legs. He bit hard, teeth sinking into
Weatherly’s thigh. Blood ran down his dirty uniform, mixing with old blood and
dirt. I took grim satisfaction that Weatherly was bleeding too. But I didn’t
have the energy to do much more than think about it.

Jericho circled Colt and Weatherly,
kneeling beside me. Weatherly’s grunts, and Colt’s growls filling the air. Jericho
met my eyes, and it was pretty clear from the look in them that what he saw frightened
him. I smiled, or tried to, tried to sit up.

“Stay still.” Jericho’s voice was low.
“Just stay still.”

There was a crash behind Jericho, and I
didn’t stay still. I wanted to see, to watch Colt. To know he was okay. Jericho
sat down near my head. He’d torn off his t-shirt, and held it to my neck. I
wasn’t sure if it was to stop the blood, or keep from having to look at
whatever damage Weatherly had inflicted.

Weatherly was down on the floor, Colt
standing on his chest. One massive front paw held down Weatherly’s arm, now a
bloody and torn appendage, but still clutching the knife. The other paw was on
Weatherly’s neck. I gave a silent cheer at the sight of it.

“Give it up, Weatherly. You’re done for.”
Jericho’s voice seemed far away, really far. The room’s perspective seemed
stretched somehow.
Blood loss…you’re losing it…hold on…

“Fuck you. Fuck both of you. And your
hell cat.” For being pinned by a wolf, the man had spunk. Colt growled, shoving
his face into Weatherly’s. I was pretty sure the growl was a returned “fuck
you.” Then he lunged.

“Don’t watch.” Jericho reached down,
covering my eyes. I closed them, not because he said so, but because it seemed
easier this way, to just lie here and rest. Suddenly I was tired.
Sleep…just
go to sleep…

There was a terrible crunching sound, and
a gurgle that filled my ears. Then there was nothing, just the sound of my
heart beating out its last rhythm.
At least you met some cool guys…had a
good weekend…

“She’s not going to last long. We can’t
take her back to the cabin.” That was Jericho. My blonde Viking…

There was a snuffle, and a wet tongue
licking my hand. I opened an eye, almost on the same level with Colt. He nudged
me again, whining low in his throat. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, that I
wished I’d met them under better circumstances. Maybe when I wake up…

“Colt…you gotta do it. Before it’s too
late.”

There was movement, someone lifting me,
holding me upright. I opened my eyes to see Colt beside me. He nuzzled my face,
his wet nose in my ear. I wanted to laugh because it tickled, but it seemed
like a whole lot of work. So I tried to smile.