Rescuing Their Virgin Mate[Pack Wars-Book 3] (3 page)

“I will. May I have some
privacy?”

The woman’s lips firmed even
more if that was possible. “Wash your hair and scrub clean. I will be back to
check on you.”

Elena was tempted to lock the
door, but a second after the woman left, a key sounded from the other side.
When she tested the knob, she was locked in. That didn’t bother her. It meant
more privacy.

She turned on the water and
undressed. Though her clothes were disgusting, and although she loathed wearing
them again, they covered her. After folding and placing them on the counter,
she stepped in the shower. The warm water was a balm to this nightmare, even
though she didn’t believe freedom was any nearer.

She picked up the shampoo but
didn’t recognize the brand. It looked expensive and smelled divine. She bought
her toiletries at the discount store.

Someone opened the door, and
Elena immediately covered herself. The matron returned carrying clean clothes.
“Put these on.” She picked up Elena’s neatly stacked ones and walked out.

Relieved she wouldn’t have to
dress in her dirty slacks, stained white blouse, and soiled undergarments, she
finished washing. After she towel dried, she looked at what the woman had
brought.

Horror raced through her. The
panty was a thong, the bra wouldn’t even cover her nipples, and the skirt might
not go over her rear. The shirt looked five sizes too small and was a low
V-neck.
Mother, Mary, and Joseph
. If
her mother saw her, she would die a hundred deaths.

Elena placed her palms
together and began to pray.

Chapter Two

Christ
. “This is worse than a sleazy ‘B’
movie,” Dirk said.

The sale was being held in a seedy
strip club. The neon lights rimming the outside had several of the letters
unlit. He’d never been here before, which he considered a good thing on many
levels. One, places like this disgusted him, and two, none of the employees
could recognize him.

For their own safety, he and
Clay had opted out of wearing a wire. Hood’s men would identify them as werewolves.
What they wouldn’t know was whether they were members of the Pack, if they
belonged to a Colter organization like Hood’s, or if they were random shifters
who were interested in beefing up their stock of women.

When they stepped through the
main entrance, the music blared, the smoke-filled room clogged his sinuses, and
the stench of bodies became unbearable. To a human, the smell might have been
passable, but not to him. It took most of his control not to cover his nose.

Women gyrated around poles
and a few men with drinks waved dollar bills at the scantily clad dancers. Dirk
had met a few girls like these. Some were trying to pay off college loans, but
many were into drugs or had given up on life. They’d turned to dancing at strip
clubs as a way to keep food on the table. He wished he could help them, but a
man could only do so much.

Clay flashed their
invitation, and the redhead smiled. “Right this way, gentlemen.” She led them
past the customers down a long hallway. “It’s the last door on your right.”

Showtime
.

Dirk was more angry than
anxious. He wanted to shift and tear Hood’s throat out for what he was doing to
helpless girls. But unless they stamped out the head honcho, along with the
entire organization, the Colters would keep on coming. Too bad they had yet to
identify the mastermind behind the group. The only name linked to this human
trafficking scheme was Harvey Couch’s, who was dead, and now, John Hood’s.

Killing Hood wouldn’t solve
the human trafficking problem, either. Even reaching the head Colter would only
interrupt things for a while. Leaders always had replacements nearby.

Clay knocked on the door and
entered. This hallway led to another room and then another. Talk about a maze.
They finally reached a long corridor with rooms on both sides. The place smelled
as if the girls were doused in cheap perfume. Two things struck him as odd. No
privacy existed. Each door contained a window. Secondly, a guard stood in front
of each one as if someone expected trouble.

As soon as they walked by the
first guard, the door at the end of the corridor opened. An older man dressed
in a black pinstripe suit, polished loafers, and more rings than a five-time
Super bowl winner stepped forward. He graced them with a wide smile.
Hood
.

His stone cold eyes shot a
shiver up Dirk’s spine. At the malevolent vibe radiating off the man, it took a
lot of control not to do battle, but he and Clay wouldn’t get within ten feet
of the guy with all his men around.

The werewolf moved forward
with the grace of his kind and held out his hand. “Gentlemen. John Hood.”

The man’s accent threw Dirk
off balance. Russian, he’d guess. The general’s
intel
never uncovered this fact. The stakes just shot
higher. Then Dirk’s body responded to something else nearby. He couldn’t figure
out why the urge to shift enveloped him. Everyone in the hallway was a
werewolf, so that didn’t explain it.

I’m
feeling odd.
Maybe Clay
had an explanation.

Me,
too, but keep cool.

Not being in control bugged
the shit out of him. Going undercover at the exact moment his body decided to
go haywire wasn’t a good omen.

“Gentlemen, tell me what
you’re looking for in a woman. Perhaps I can guide you.”

Just then, the door they’d
entered through opened, and Dirk glanced behind him. Two more
gentlemen
he didn’t recognize walked in.
Neither were shifters.
Interesting
.
Hood nodded to them as if he knew them well. Both men acknowledged the guard
stationed at the second door on the right and slipped into the room. Dirk hoped
Elena wasn’t the one in there.

Between the two of them, Clay
was better thinking on his feet.
You
answer him
.

His partner glanced at him,
but he hid his surprise well. “We need someone soft and nubile to fill out our
line.
Dargon
and I want someone we can train.”

Why the general chose the
stupid name
Dargon
as an alias was beyond him. A
spark of uncertainty flashed in Hood’s eye.
Damn
.
Clay’s description shouldn’t have been so precise.

The man’s smile didn’t reach
his eyes. “I think I might be able to accommodate you. Would you like me to
hold your money while you look?” He held out a hand.

Since the case required an
eye scan to open the lock, he figured Hood wouldn’t be able to steal the money.
“Sure.” Dirk handed it to him. Immediately, Hood passed it off to one of his
men.

“As long as no one else is in
the room with the lady, feel free to check out each one, but please don’t harm
the merchandise. You break it, you pay for it.”

The warning wasn’t necessary.

Since they didn’t know which
room contained Elena, they started as far away from the newcomers as possible.
No potential buyer was inside the first room, but the captive wasn’t Elena. Her
mother had provided a picture of her very beautiful daughter and this blonde
didn’t look remotely like her. He wouldn’t put it past Hood to dye the woman’s
hair to make identification more difficult, but even Hood couldn’t have made a
girl grow four inches.

A blonde, with very long
legs, sat on a red sofa with her hands tightly laced on her lap, her crossed
legs bouncing up and down. Dirk spotted the security camera in two corners.
Most likely there would be audio, too.

Talk
to her
, he telepathed to
Clay. Christ this sucked. Pretending to buy a woman as their sexual slave made
him sick.

Clay held out his hand. “Well
hello.
My name’s Randy.
What’s yours?”

Her smile came out weak.
“Cindy.”

“Hello, Cindy. Why don’t you
stand so we can see what you have to offer?”

What
the
fuck are
you doing?

Making
us look good
.
Stand between the camera and me
.

Dirk understood and slipped
behind his friend. To block more of the visual, he placed his hands behind his
head. Clay ran his fingers down her arms and even patted her butt, but he was
as respectful as possible. He asked her a few questions about her education and
where she was from. The girl shook and Dirk tightened his hands into fists.

Let’s
go
. It took all of his
self-control not to kill someone.

“Thank you, Cindy. You’re a
beautiful girl.”

“Thank you.” The girl, who
barely looked eighteen, dropped back onto the sofa.

As soon as they stepped out,
Clay went into full-blown acting mode. “She’s a real beauty. We could make a
mint off her.” His tone sounded too fake and too loud. “The guys would line up
to get those full lips on their cocks.”

So furious, Dirk couldn’t
even respond. Instead of entering the next room, he decided to look in each
window first. The sooner they found Elena, the better he’d feel. He was halfway
down the hall when Clay’s telepathic words stopped him cold.
Come back here or I’m walking.

Dirk wasn’t sure he could
repeat the meet and greet scene nine more times without exploding. But he had
to suck it up. On the fifth girl, they opened the door and he recognized her as
Elena. Thank God. His pulse raced and his body nearly burst with need. His
damned bones cracked and his fangs elongated.

Dirk!

Clay’s sharp command pulled
him out of his sexual haze.
Holy shit
.
What the hell had just happened? One look at Elena and he wanted to shift.

#

Elena was close to her
breaking point. It was bad enough to dress like a whore, but for men to come in
and press their hands on her breasts and grab her ass, she’d rather they’d
killed her in the warehouse.

The click of the door had her
heart sprinting. Two men who looked closer to giants strutted in. Instantly,
her adrenaline spiked, but then calmed almost as quickly. Her reaction to them
was different from all the others who’d entered. Something was unusual about
these two.

For one, neither of these men
leered at her like the others had. In fact, the broader one didn’t even make
eye contact. His full-lipped mouth was pressed closed and his hands were
clasped behind his back. The taller, fairer one smiled. He was the first one
who actually looked kind. Appreciating the reprieve, her blood pressure
dropped.

“What’s your name, sugar?”
His tone was even and, dare she say, gentle?

The woman dressed in black
had stopped by after Elena had showered and dressed and forbade her to tell
anyone her real name. She also explained how men would come by, and for her
sake, she needed to convince one of them to buy her. If at the end of the evening,
no one had offered for her, she’d be wishing she were back in the cage in the
warehouse.

“Maria.”

“Maria, I’m Randy. Would you
mind standing so we can take a good look at you?”

She closed her eyes for a
moment and willed the humiliation away. Automatically, she crossed her arms
over her chest. The taller one leaned in close and clasped her shoulders
gently. His rich, woodsy scent stirred something deep inside her, and this
reaction frightened her in its intensity.

“I’m not here to hurt you,”
he whispered. “I want to help you escape.”

Her eyes flashed open. The
words jammed in her brain as she studied him to see if he was just teasing her
or telling the truth.
Please
God
,
make
him be sincere
.

Her savior turned around.
“What do you think,
Dargon
?”

“Ah. I’m not sure. She looks
a little too innocent.”

Her palms sweated, and she
rubbed them against her blouse. She had to convince them to take her. She
couldn’t go back into that cage. “I am not.”
God forgive me for lying
. “I love to suck on a man’s cock.” The
expected revulsion never materialized. It was as if the devil slid into her
soul and put words in her mouth.

“I like that, Maria, but we
need to look around.” The tall one mouthed, “Don’t worry.”

Confusion clouded her brain
once they left her. The urge to run after them was strong, but she’d been
warned about the cameras tracking her every move. If she acted like she was
there against her will, her captors would never let her go.

She sat down and said another
silent prayer. She’d find a way to make this work out. The cubicle seemed to
shrink, and she closed her eyes to picture her family. Their smiling faces gave
her strength.

She wasn’t sure how long
she’d waited, but it seemed like an eternity. When the door opened and the
guard who’d led her in entered, her heart tripped. Was this the end? Was her time
up?

“Come with me. You’ve been
bought.”