Otherworld Nights (13 page)

“Daniella?”

“Keith,” she said, her voice going distant, as if she’d yanked the phone down.

“Who are you talking to?” Keith called.

“A friend.” A rustle, like she was stuffing the phone into her pocket. “What are you—?”

“Didn’t sound like a friend.” Keith’s voice came closer. “Do you think I’m stupid, Dani? That I don’t know what you’re up to? That I don’t know who that was?”

Oh shit. Oh, shit! Where was she? Reese looked around, but he had no idea if she was even on campus.

Come on, Daniella. I’m still on the line. Give me a hint, a clue, and I’m on my way
.

“I don’t know what you—” Daniella began.

“Cut the crap, Dani. He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”

“Wh-what? Who? That was a friend.”

“Bullshit.” The voice came closer still and Reese swore he could hear Daniella shaking. “What would your father say if he found out? A human boyfriend?”

“H-hum—” She stopped. Reese could hear the relief in her voice when she continued. “It’s not like that. Just a guy I … kind of like. We went out a few times, and—”

“You’d better be telling the truth, because you’re mine, Dani.”

An edge of steel slid into Daniella’s voice. “No, Rose is yours. I’m going to be your sister-in-law. I’ve warned you already—if you ever touch me again, I’ll tell my father and he’ll—”

“He’ll do nothing. I’m tired of waiting. I’ve got half the Pack on my side, plus your sister. It’s our turn, and if your parents don’t step down gracefully, you’re going to be an orphan.”

“Rose would never—”

“No? It’s her idea. She’s sick of waiting. Sick of serving your mother. Sick of watching me serve your father.” He chuckled. “And
sick of getting her wedding night postponed. Now I’m bringing you home, and if your father complains, that’ll give me just the excuse I need. So call your boyfriend and say goodbye, and I hope all you gave him was kisses, because if I find out otherwise …?” His voice lowered to a growl. “I owe my Pack brothers for their support. If you’re damaged goods, you’ll be their reward.”

“You’re hurting me.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m going to hurt you a lot more—”

Reese didn’t catch the rest of the threat. He started running, phone gripped to his ear, having no idea where he was going, just running, praying she’d remember he was still on the line and tell him where she was.

Even when he slowed and strained to listen, though, he could barely hear anything. Their voices were muffled now. But he could catch the panic in Daniella’s and hear the faint sounds of struggle. Then Keith said, “Maybe I’ll save myself the disappointment and just check those goods now.”

Daniella let out a shriek. Reese ran faster, shouting, “Daniella!” into the phone.

A smack. Then a gasp of pain. Daniella’s gasp. He called her again, louder, but the fight got louder, too. Then a
whoomph
and a hiss of pain from Keith.

Footsteps pounded.

“You bitch,” Keith wheezed, his voice getting distant. “You’d better run. When I catch you …”

He didn’t finish the threat. Didn’t catch her, either.

An hour later, Reese and Daniella were in his truck, roaring out of Melbourne. He’d screwed up—again. He hadn’t wanted to leave, so he’d come up with excuses.
Oh, you need ID. And we need to empty our bank accounts. And figure out where we’re going to stay …
Bullshit. He’d been stalling. After Daniella escaped from Keith
the first time, they should have packed their bags and grabbed the first boat to Indonesia.

Now they were doing exactly what he’d tried to avoid: taking her to his parents. They had no choice. All her ID—new and old—had been in her purse, which Keith had grabbed as she’d run away. They needed a place to hide and they needed help.

He’d called first. His dad had answered, and Reese said he was coming home for the weekend. His father didn’t question it, just figured Reese was homesick.

At midnight, Reese called again to tell them not to wait up. He was exhausted and grabbing a motel room for the night. His mom agreed he shouldn’t drive while he was tired, but said, “Is something wrong, Reese?”

“Kind of.”

Daniella glanced over sharply. They’d agreed not to tell his parents the truth until they got there. She was worried they might tell him to get the hell away from her as fast as he could. Too little experience trusting anyone, especially werewolves.

“I’m okay for now,” he said. “I’ll explain when I get home.”

A pause. A long one. Then, “All right. Call me when you leave the motel, and I’ll have breakfast ready when you get here.”

He hung up, and Daniella said, “It’s only a couple more hours’ drive.”

He didn’t answer, just checked the mirrors for the thousandth time since they’d left Melbourne.

“Keith isn’t following us, Reese.” She studied his face. “But you’re still worried, and I guess I can’t blame you. You don’t want to risk leading him to your parents.”

“I can’t.”

“I know.”

They started looking for a motel.

Ten minutes later, they were in a room, but it was an hour before they got to sleep. As Daniella joked, it would be a while before they’d get time alone together. That’s what cheap motels were for, he’d said. So they’d taken advantage of it, burning off the stress and anxiety of the day.

Afterward, he’d gone into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he came out, she lay naked on the bed, examining a tourist map from the desk.

“Trying to figure out where the hell we are?” he asked.

She laughed. “Yes. I found the last town we passed. Now I’m trying to guess where we’re going.” She pointed at a stretch of land marked with sheep. “I know it’s not here. It’s the right distance, but it’s ranch country. No way werewolves would be farming livestock.”

When he didn’t answer, she looked up and caught his smile.

“Seriously?” she said. “How’d you manage that?”

He shrugged. “Buy them while they’re lambs, and they get used to our smell. A sheep farm is the last place the Pack would look for us.” She let the map slide to the floor. “Smart. Do you have dogs to herd them?” She grinned. “Or just Change and do it yourselves?”

He laughed and stretched out on top of her. “We have dogs.”

“Lucky. I always wanted dogs. Pets of any kind, actually.” She put her arms around his neck. “I think I’m going to like it out here. Even if it is a million miles from anywhere.”

“That’s part of its charm,” he said, and kissed her.

He awoke alone. The spot beside him had cooled, but the faint smell of shampoo wafted from the bathroom. He stretched and flipped over to check the time—

Shit! It was after nine. He’d set it for six—

No, Daniella set it. Had she done it wrong? Damned motel clocks. No two ever worked the same.

He rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. The door was ajar. He pushed it open.

“Hey, we’re running late, so—”

The bathroom was empty. He yanked the shower curtain back. The walls were dry. Only a damp film of soapy water still coated the floor.

He hurried back into the room and looked around. There was a note by the door.

Shit. Oh, shit. Please tell me she didn’t get spooked and run
.

He snatched it up.

Getting coffee
, it said.
Be right back!

Reese grabbed his jeans and was still zipping them up as he strode out, bare-chested and bare-footed, his heart pumping so hard he didn’t feel the morning’s chill. Didn’t notice the sour looks of the elderly couple in the motel restaurant, either.

Yes, the server had seen Daniella. She’d ordered coffee, toast, and sausage and taken the food back to her room. When? Oh, at least a couple of hours ago.

Reese tore out of the restaurant. His truck was still in the lot, but he noticed that the interior light was on. He ran over to find the driver’s door open. The smell of werewolf hit him. Keith Tynes and at least two others. They’d sniffed inside his truck. Smelling him.

The croak of a raven made him jump. He turned to see two fighting over a piece of toast. Two coffee cups lay beside the takeaway box, brown liquid swirling around the battling birds.

Keith had taken Daniella. She’d dropped the tray, maybe tried to run, but there was no place to run, not out here.

But why take her and let him live? Wasn’t he their target?

Unless they didn’t know who he was. If Reese wasn’t Wes Robinson’s biological son, these Pack wolves wouldn’t smell the connection. Daniella was smart. She’d claim she’d been snatched by another werewolf, looking to strike at the Pack. They’d get her out of harm’s way. Then they’d come back for him. Or, better
yet, wait for him to drive off into the outback, where there’d be no witnesses.

He had to call his parents. Warn them, just in case.

He ran into the motel room and grabbed his cell phone. His home number rang through to the answering machine. He tried his mother’s cell. Same thing.

Reese’s hands shook so hard it took him a moment to realize his phone had vibrated. He had two text messages. Both were from his mother.

Don’t come home. Run, baby. Just run. Please
.

The second had been sent a minute later. Three words.

We love you
.

Reese took off.

He went home. There was no way in hell he wouldn’t, no matter what his mother’s message said.

Any hope that nothing was wrong vanished when he saw their sheep milling about the road. Wandering, confused and lost, some dead, run off the road or just run over. The dogs were dead, too. Matt and Tam.
His
dogs or so his father had said, bringing the balls of black and white fluff into his bedroom one Christmas morning—

Reese inhaled sharply, tore his gaze away from his dogs, and hit the gas, honking and weaving around the sheep.

As he approached the homestead, he could see his father’s truck parked in the front yard. Driven right through his mother’s garden, the driver’s door still open.

Reese smelled the blood first. Then he saw it, a trail leading from the truck to the front door. Bloody drag marks on the porch. Bloody handprints on the door.

He teetered then lunged forward, and ran in, calling, “Mom! Dad!” He followed the bloody trail into his parents’ bedroom. There was his father, face down. Dead.

His mother sat on the floor beside him. In one hand she clenched his father’s fingers. In the other she held a pistol. Her blond hair fell forward. Dried blood tracks ran down her cheek. More blood pooled on the floor around her, mingling with his father’s.

The werewolves must have found his father out with the sheep. He’d gotten away, managing to stay alive until he’d made it back to warn her. She’d known she couldn’t escape. Known they wouldn’t kill her quickly. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—go through that again. She’d sent him the messages. And then …

Reese dropped to his knees beside them. A sob caught in his chest, lodged there, stopping his breath, and he didn’t try to let it out, didn’t try to breathe, didn’t want to breathe. Didn’t deserve to breathe.

“It’s my fault,” he whispered. “My fault.”

“Yep, boy, it is.”

He grabbed for the gun, but Keith easily wrenched it from his shock-numbed fingers. Reese scrambled to his feet. He saw the gun barrel pointed at him, and he didn’t care, just dove at the man, praying he could do some damage before the bullet killed him.

No bullet came. The gun whacked Reese’s forehead. He fell back. When he tried to rise, Keith hit him again and again, until he couldn’t get up, just crouched on all fours, retching.

He heard a voice and lifted his head. His eyes wouldn’t focus, but he still recognized the slight figure in the door.

“Daniella,” he croaked.

Flanking her were two big brutes. Werewolves. He could smell that. There was something else about their scent, too. Something familiar. As his head stopped spinning and he saw their faces, he knew where he’d seen them before.

The night Daniella was attacked. These were the men who’d attacked her. That’s why that alley had reeked of booze. Splashed around to make their scent so faint that Daniella wouldn’t recognize them as werewolves. Outside werewolves Keith had hired to hurt her.

When Daniella stepped forward, the two men did nothing to stop her. There was no sign that she’d struggled against her captors. No sign that she was the least bit concerned for her safety. He saw that and he knew he was wrong. They hadn’t splashed around the rum to disguise their scent from
her
.

“No,” he whispered. “Daniella …”

Keith put his arm around her neck, one hand toying with her hair. “She’s something, isn’t she? A worthy mate to the Alpha.”

Reese puked, emptying his stomach onto the floor as the werewolves laughed.

When he looked up again, he searched her face for some sign that she was just playing along. But she was clear-eyed, calm, and resolute. He remembered how he’d marveled at the dichotomy in her, sweet and gentle on the outside, hot-blooded and passionate on the inside.

Dichotomy? No. The sweet and gentle side had been an act to lure in a young werewolf eager to be chivalrous, needing only a damsel in distress to protect.