Seduced by a Shifter (19 page)

She was limp as he turned her in his arms. “Kiss me,” he demanded against her mouth. More than willing to comply, Willow threw her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his waist as he hefted her up with ease.

“I’ll always need your scent filling my lungs, your taste in my mouth.” He sucked in air, eyes burning with unquenchable fire as he pushed her panties to the side and slid, big and thick, into her, tunneling through muscles so exquisitely sensitive she let out another cry.

“Christ. You feel so good.” His hiss was more a growl, heavy with dark needy pleasure. “So fucking good.” He kissed her temple, her cheeks, as he moved within her. murmuring words so low and deep she couldn’t make them out.

Within a few strokes Willow found herself right back at that perilous edge. She whimpered for more, feeling surrounded, consumed. Taken. He pulled back and thrust in, stretching her so tight she could barely breathe.

“You’re my heaven, Willow. My light in the dark.” Bending his knees for better alignment, he surged into her. The world spun away last time. This time it exploded. From deep within the gut-wrenching need shattered into a million pieces, so visceral she knew nothing but ecstasy.

Ben’s muffled roar echoed in the room as he followed her over, his head buried in her neck. It took several moments for her to realize he hadn’t bitten her and the disappointment shocked her.

He kept them up on trembling muscles, his heart a freight train in his chest. His mouth was on her face, her neck, her hair, as if he was loath to let her go.

She opened her eyes and met his. “Hey.” He pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. “You okay?”

She didn’t have a clue. “Yeah.”

He pulled out and eased her feet to the floor. “Let me...”

She nodded and turned away as he headed to the stall to dispose of the condom. When he returned he was tucking in his shirt while she busied herself in her purse which she’d dropped on the floor. “I need a few minutes.”

He leaned against the wall, big and dangerous and very sure of himself.

“Alone, Ben.”

One brow rose. “There’s nothing—”

Oh yes, there was. “Please, Ben. Just go and give me a few minutes.”

He studied her flushed face, silent. “We need to talk about this shyness of yours.”

She shook her head. “Go, already.” When he didn’t move she shooed him out the door, causing his eyes to light with laughter.

“Fine, I’m going. But I’m watching the clock, sweetheart.”

He could watch it all he wanted. She wasn’t going to move from this spot until she was good and ready to face him again.

And they hadn’t even talked about the future.

“Finally,” a male voice said as Willow stepped from the bathroom. She froze, looking up in horror at a woman dressed in a waitress uniform in front of her.

“Really, Willow. A bathroom?” Marg Valen
tsked
. “That’s so tacky.”

So much had happened over the last several days that Willow almost forgot about the danger she was in. Now, she made to rush back into the bathroom but the man who’d spoken slid behind her. Something small and hard pushed against her back.

Oh shit.

“I think it’s time we had a talk. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Willow wanted to spit on the other woman for sullying Ben’s endearment. “I’m not your sweetheart.”

Valen reached up to touch Willow’s hair and she had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from biting the gnarly fingers.

She’d probably end up with rabies.

“So short, but still so pretty. Let’s go, Tom.”

Tom prodded her back with his gun. Wild-eyed, Willow looked around the empty hall, wishing for help even as she hoped no one would show. Terrified as she was, anyone popping into the hall would be just as vulnerable as Willow.

At the far end of the hall, near an exit sign, another man came into view. Though dressed for the wedding, the big black weapon in his hand told another story.

As if Willow’s sinking heart couldn’t fall any farther, the door to the ballroom opened and Kaylie stepped out. With Lukas in her arms. Oblivious to the danger, she smiled in relief. “Oh, hey, Will. Ben told me there was a bathroom down this way. Lukas needs changing.”

Marg’s smile was full of professional helpfulness. “Sure is. Just down the hall and to your right. What a darling child.” The woman reached out and ran a finger over Lukas’s downy cheek. Willow understood the hint. If she so much as breathed wrong, Kaylie and the baby were dead.

In that second Willow understood Tess’s comment about a good set of claws coming in handy, because if she’d had them, she would have ripped Marg’s face off. The rage was so fierce, Willow shook with it.

“Caleb and Tess are back?” She prayed the tremors in her voice didn’t betray her. She needed to act natural, and as a friend, she wouldn’t walk past Kaylie without speaking. Tom edged slightly away, making Willow wonder what he looked like, since the sight of an unknown male at Willow’s back didn’t seem to rattle Kaylie.

Kaylie let out an exasperated sigh. “They’re still at the church for photos, so they say. Personally I think they’re looking for some ma-n-and-wife time before they head over.”

Lukas started to fuss and she kissed his head, moving past Willow in the hall. Amazingly enough, both Marg and Tom let her pass without incident. “They’re like two wolves in heat. Nothing can separate them.” Kaylie said with a wink..

Once Kaylie and the babe entered the restroom, Tom urged Willow on with a muttered “move” and nudge of his gun.

“I’m going.” She glanced over at Marg to see the woman’s lips turn up.

“Surprised? I’m not a complete bitch, Willow. As long as you don’t cross me. Besides, I do so like babies.”

Willow shuddered and kept moving. As they neared the exit, the second man opened the door. Outside it was nearly dark, the sun long gone and the moon’s glow not yet strong enough to seep through the thick clouds. Willow was shoved inside the back of an SUV, the vehicle of choice in the mountains, and sandwiched between Marg and Tom. A third man sat behind the wheel, a nasty leer on his face as he checked her out through the rear-view mirror. Willow gagged.

As they took off, Marg caught her looking out the side window at the second man. “Jack’s going to remain behind. He’ll let us know when they start looking for you. I figure, what? Ten minutes? Plenty of time to get out of town.”

They stopped at a red light—nothing wrong here, officer—and Marg continued to blab away. But under the blabbing, Willow heard a sound that made every hair on her body stand up. It was the sound of a howling wolf. A wolf in great distress, or furious anger. Perhaps both. Willow turned in her seat, barely catching a glimpse of a huge tan wolf careening around the corner of a building and running full speed ahead as the light turned green and Leery stepped on the gas, snapping her around.

“Ben,” she whispered.

“What?” Marg asked.

Willow swallowed hard. “So what have you been up to?”

One painted on brow rose. “Uh-huh.”

Tires squealed behind them, and several horns blared long and sharp.

“What was that?” Marg peered over her shoulder.

“Looks like some dog is loose.” Leery the gag king raised a shoulder, still eyeing her with undisguised interest anytime she caught him looking at her.

Willow gasped, turning and trying to see, yet terrified she’d see something horrifying. “Did it get hit?”
Oh God, oh God, oh God! Ben, please be okay!

“You’re seriously concerned about a dog?” Tom was incredulous, looking from her to the wicked gun he had trained on her.

Willow bit her lip. “I’m worried about all God’s creatures.”

“Weird.” Tom shook his head.

“So, ah. How did you find me?” Anything to take her mind of Ben’s possibly broken and bloody body.

Marg lifted her chin forward. “Stephen here is Tim’s uncle, your partner at the community center. The boy has a serious crush on you. He uploaded some Christmas photos from his phone onto his Facebook account, and though your hair was short and brown at the time, your big blue eyes made Stephen curious.”

Fabulous. Outed by Facebook.

“Speaking of phones.” Marg yanked Willow’s purse from her grip.

“Hey!”

“Let’s see what we have here.”

By now they were passing through the edge of town, not toward the city of Togan, but toward Denver. Buildings became sparse as the forest took over. Soon they were alone on the road, apart from the occasional vehicle heading toward Woodcliff.

“A phone. How ordinary.” Marg wiggled it between two fingers. “Think this has a bug?” Willow knew it had a tracking device on it. Scott had told her. “So do I.” Cold air blasted them as Marg opened the window and tossed the cell phone out the window.

Willow only gritted her teeth and Marg continued to paw through her purse.

“Lip gloss. So not my color.” The tube followed the phone out the window.

“Stop that!” Willow tried to grab her purse, outrage at the loss of her belongings temporarily overriding her fear of the situation.

“Nu-huh.” The damn gun again.

“Fuck, it’s cold.” Up went the window and Willow slumped back in her seat, helpless to do anything but watch the bitch continue to rifle through her bag. Down went the window and out went her small manicure set. Up went the window.

By the nasty smile on Marg’s lips, Willow realized the woman was enjoying this slow and senseless torture. Each time the window went up, Willow might think the rest of her possessions safe, then down the window would go and another item was tossed.

Every item in her purse—minus the eighteen dollars Marg pocketed—were tossed like garbage onto the pavement, until nothing was left.

“Could be a tracking device in the purse itself.” Tom offered.

Marg’s eyes went snake-slit as she looked from her henchman to Willow. “Hmmm. See why I keep them around?” She kept her gleefully maniacal gaze on Willow as she tossed the whole bag out.

Willow jerked her face forward, refusing to give the other woman anything. Then it hit her and she had to bite her lip from laughing out loud.

Ben was a tracker, a wolf. His sense of smell was a million times stronger than a human’s and Marg—stupid, idiotic, hateful witch—had just left him a long line of breadcrumbs.

Unfortunately, they were now out of breadcrumbs.
Now what?

“We’ve got lights behind us.” Stephen said.

“No matter. The side road’s just ahead,” Marg replied.

“Where are you taking me?” Willow whispered once they turned onto a dirt road, staring at the surrounding forest with dread. She’d thought they were going to Denver.

She wanted to live to see Denver.

“A nice older couple rented their vacation home to me,” Marg replied with a little smirk that didn’t bode well.

“Rented?”

She shrugged. “They won’t be needing it again.”

Willow tasted bile.

All too soon they pulled up, not to a cabin, but a mobile home. Trees grew tall throughout the property, something the homeowners must have enjoyed as they built the covered front porch around one.

“Out,” Tom ordered. The cold sliced deep as Willow slid from the vehicle. She crossed her arms, shivering, longing for her coat which was hanging over a chair back at the reception.

“Wonder why Jack hasn’t called.” Tom commented.

Marg looked Willow up and down. “Guess you were nothing but a diversion for your bathroom buddy.”

Willow jutted her chin, yelling in her head,
I’m more than a diversion, you bitch. I’m his mate
. But she kept her mouth shut.

Stephen wanted an explanation of that comment and when Tom told him where they found Willow, the driver licked his lips and ran a hand over his crotch. Willow thought she might have vomited a little in her mouth. Stephen was so fugly that prostitutes probably put a bag over
his
head.

“Dammit, Stephen. You disgust me,” Marg snapped. “If anyone gets Willow, it’ll be me, but unfortunately we don’t have time. Just grab her and let’s go. It’s too cold to prolong this.”

Oh yeah. Willow was going to hurl. Thank God Marg wanted her dead sooner rather than later, because she just might tell Tom to pull the trigger if the old crone came at her with lust in her eyes.

A flash of anger crossed Stephen’s face before he took hold of Willow’s arm. Ah. Dissension among murderers. Lovely.

Fugly steered her after Marg and they wound deeper into the forest, Tom taking up the rear. After several minutes Marg halted and looked around. “I thought this was where you dug the grave.”

Willow guessed that would be her grave. She looked around with wide eyes, not seeing any big, empty pit. Everything looked the same to her.

“Nah, it’s over there.” Tom pointed with his gun.

Fugly squinted, trying to see. “You sure? I thought it was back that way.”

Willow looked up at the stars. Great. She’d been abducted by the Three Stooges.

“I fucking told you to set up a flag or something.” Marg cursed her men out. “Incompetent fools.”

They turned around and tramped for several more minutes over fallen logs and winding around bare trees heavy with the latest snow fall. Apparently Marg had enough because she came to an abrupt halt. “That’s it. I’m done searching. Kill her now and just leave her body to the animals.”

A wolf’s howl broke the silence, long and mournful. It was followed by another wolf, and another. Then came the eerie sound of a seriously pissed-off cat, and Willow wasn’t thinking a tabby.

Oh. My. God. Rome. Rome’s not a wolf, he’s a cat. Ben called him a cat back at Kaylie’s place.

Her stunned brain was still coming to terms with that news when her heart soared light and free. Ben was coming for her. They all were!

Willow gulped and tried to step back as Tom turned his gun on her, but Fugly tightened his grip. Safety minutes away, she struggled in earnest, not to break free but to keep Stephen between her and Tom’s gun. She also screamed bloody murder, remembering belatedly that her scent would travel through the air, and with any luck, lead the wolves straight to her.

“Shit, woman. Quit your wailing. You sound like those damn coyotes.” Marg wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Willow shot the woman a death-ray glare that would make Tess proud. “Not coyotes, you dumb bitch. Wolves.”

Marg’s mouth dropped in shock. Nobody had ever spoken to her like that. Gaping like a fishmonger she said, “That’s it. Tom.”

In that split second Willow wished she’d told Ben she loved him. Loved him so much that her heart ached with it. She loved his charm, his personality, his wit and, yes, even his wild, furry side. And now she never would.

She sucked in a breath to scream when two lethal black streaks blurred out from the corner of her eye, her vision suddenly sideways as she was ripped out of Stephen’s grip and shoved onto the snowy ground. Something heavy lay on top of her, snarling and snapping. Breathless, she turned her head—to peer around a large tan paw.

Marg stood alone, her mouth open wide in horrified shock. Tom laid at her side, motionless, a large black leopard standing over him, roaring out in victory.

Swiveling her head the other direction, she saw a huge black wolf doing the same with Stephen. God she hoped whoever the black wolf was didn’t catch any disease from the henchman.

She tried to look up. “Ben?” At her soft whisper the snarling stopped and a big, moist tongue swiped across her cheek. “Ew.” He chuffed and boinked her face with his wet nose, as if assuring himself she was fine. “I’m okay. Really. Just wouldn’t mind breathing.”

Ben eased off enough so Willow could sit up, gasping in lungfuls of air, his amber eyes ever watchful as he scanned everyone around them. Willow now saw Caleb behind Marg, Brandon, his best man and one of his deputies, at his side. Both were not only still dressed in their tuxes, but looking hot and sexy as they handcuffed Marg.

“Marg Valens. You’re under arrest for kidnapping, attempted murder, and so many other things—including pissing me off—that I can’t begin to list them.”

Willow leaned back onto a hard fur-covered chest. If Caleb were here, that meant—

“You bitch!” Tess stomped over the ground, her wedding dress hiked over an arm.

“Probably be better to give her to the wolves.” Brandon chuckled.

Barreling down on Marg like an avenging angel, Tess drew back her free arm and slammed her fist into the other woman’s face. Willow gawked as Valen fell like a downed tree. Even as Tess shook her hand she turned around to look for Willow. “You good?”

Not only had Ben come for her, Rome, Caleb, Brandon, and God, Tess. In her wedding dress!

Willow started to laugh. “God, I love you.”

Tess eased, a happy smile curling her lips. “Me too.”