Shift Happens (A Carus Novel Book 1) (9 page)

Wick had been here. Though faint, his telltale sugar aroma blended with the signature Werewolf scent of rosemary and rushed into my body as if my wolf sucked it in.

The idea of nipping in and out to grab some clothes before they got here flashed in and out of my mind. A risk. Too much of a risk.

“For fuck’s sake. I can’t catch a break.”

I navigated my car from the curb and made my way to the highway. In the rear-view mirror, I said goodbye to my home. My stomach dropped at the thought of losing yet another place, one that started to feel like a home. My handler would have to sell the condo for me.

My handler.

Time to pay Landen a visit. This wasn’t a straightforward hit. First, I got caught. Second, the Master Vampire wanted to ‘see’ me about it. Third, Clint had been a norm. I needed more information and Landen had it.

But the safe house came first. My handler would take me more seriously as an interrogator if I had clothes on.

There was an odd disconnect to driving on the motorway naked with all the windows smashed. At first, I felt exposed, uncomfortable and cold. Frigid air burst through the open portals of my car and slammed against my exposed flesh, and there was nothing I could do about the open stares, leers and the judgmental frowns of each passerby. I drove faster and focused on my goal.

When the gas light blinked on I took the next off ramp. Part of me gave thanks for being done with the high speed wind tunnel portion of the trip and the other part of me was disappointed I didn’t make it farther and would have to cover the rest of the distance by wing. I would be sore—very sore.

If I made it.

A cramped wing over the Strait of Georgia wasn’t something I needed. I couldn’t shift into a fish.

The sun had set half an hour ago. The air, when not blasting against my skin during the drive, felt mild, not bad for a long flight. The odds danced in my favor for once—the air currents moved in the right direction.

With the last of my gas, I rolled the car into a Supe-Mart parking lot, and got out. My arm ached when I stretched, still fatigued from my initial flight. An angry red spot marked the bullet hole. The skin strained thin over the wound, feeling raw with a shiny look, but more healed than it should’ve been. Wick’s pack magic somehow sped up the healing process through my wolf. I didn’t want to think about the implications or the possibility of belonging to another pack.

The wind swirled around me and I froze mid-stretch. Wolf.

I looked up to see two SUVs barrelling toward me. With no time to think, I willed the shift. The sting was fast and gripping. My arms condensed into solid wings and a sharp pain radiated from my injury.

My wings beat frantically to take off. I got a few feet in the air when a heavy weight slammed me back to the ground.

Shaking my head cleared some of the stars. I hopped around underneath what I now realized was a net. Someone’s hand grabbed my wings through the net and flipped me onto my back—a submissive position in any form.

Men surrounded me, appearing larger because of my size and vantage point; their wolf-yellow glares an unwelcome sight. Their wolves were close. The flight or fight instinct of my falcon kicked in and I flapped and twisted uncontrollably under the net trying to get away. I couldn’t turn over. My screech of frustration echoed off the pavement and the walls of the surrounding mall. My head snapped from side to side searching for a way out. I’d been so close. The taste of freedom still lingered in my mouth.

Another SUV pulled up and a large man stepped out. Anger vibrated off him. Wick.

He stepped up to the other men and joined them in their group glare—his big frame more imposing as he loomed over my petite form.

“Shift,” he said. His alpha power rolled over my feathers.

I flapped my wings against the net in defiance.

Wick squatted down beside me. “Do not mistake my past congeniality as weakness. I will pluck every feather from that bird body of yours until you shift.”

A shiver rippled through me. Pluck my feathers?
No, thank you.

“Shift.” The power in his voice called to my wolf, demanding obedience. Fucking alphas.

I used the momentum of his power to change, not out of submission, but because I was partial to my feathers. My mountain lion rippled out.

“Christ!” One of the men holding down the net leapt back. He hadn’t been briefed.

“Hold her down.”

The men standing back joined their pack mates as they held the net down on my rage. I railed against the barrier. My claws snagged in the mesh. Too strong to rip apart, the skin at the base of my nails tore instead, releasing the coppery scent of blood into the night. Abandoning the effort with my paws, I lurched forward with a snarl and tried to bite my way through—until my gums started bleeding, too. These Weres had arrived well prepared. My ears pinned to the back of my head as a hiss ripped from my throat.

The pack smelled of triumph, confidence and pride.

One smelled of fear. I turned to him and yowled. The sound hung in the air. The young wolf averted his gaze, but held strong.

My thoughts of freedom vanished.

I huffed again and lay my heavy head down on my front paws.

“If you’re done with your temper tantrum, it’s time to shift back,” Wick said.

I turned my feline gaze to him and hissed again.

He held up sweat pants and a t-shirt. “If you shift now, I’ll let you ride back fully clothed.”

I licked the blood off my front paw.

“Just because you have no feathers to pluck, doesn’t mean we’re at an impasse.”

I shifted my attention to my other paw.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself, Andy. We have tranq guns.”

His statement froze my tongue. I hated tranquilizers. The recovery from one shot meant days of feeling like the sludge from the bottom of a stale beer barrel. I’d rather lance boils off homeless people than experience that nausea again.

“Shift.”

I hacked, knowing he was right. They could tranq me and haul my cat ass into a cage. My body shook from exhaustion as soon as my cat form shifted to human. Cold air hit my naked flesh. I shoved my shaking hands under my armpits.

The net lifted. Wick flung the clothes, smacking me in the face, and adding insult to injury. I clutched the soft material in my hands and slowly stood up. The blood I missed caked to the base of my nails. Ignoring the full body ache as best I could, I clambered into the sweatpants and t-shirt. As soon as I pulled the shirt over my head a hand with an iron grip clamped onto my arm.

Wick ignored my glare and hauled me to the nearest SUV. John sat in the driver’s seat and adjusted the rear-view mirror to give me a smug look. I flipped him off. He chuckled and put the vehicle in gear and drove without saying a word. Wick sat in the back beside me, gripping my arm hard. Obviously, he didn’t want to take any chances that I’d get away. Like I’d manage that in an SUV. His anger stunk up the whole vehicle, tickling my nose. I sneezed. The silence was heavy and oppressing.

“Why are you so angry? Did you think I wouldn’t try to escape?” I asked.

Wick shook his head and refused to speak or look at me.

“You would do the same thing,” I said. Why did I feel defensive?

Wick continued to stare straight ahead. The tightening pressure on my arm, the only indication that he’d heard. I let out a big sigh and slumped back in my seat.

After a long, quiet drive back to the house, John pulled up and parked. After taking the keys out of the ignition, he dropped his hands to his lap and waited. No one moved or spoke.

Wick’s soft voice broke the silence. “I will meet you inside, John.”

The other wolf nodded and hopped out of the SUV. I leaned over to get out of the vehicle. A deep sense of apprehension covered me like a blanket and I suddenly had no desire to be alone with Wick. Wick yanked my arm and I flailed in his direction.
Smooth.

“Nice try,” he said. He opened his door and pulled me out after him. He turned to me midway up the drive. “Ryan despises you.”

“Because of the crossword thing?” I feigned ignorance.

“Crossword thing?” Wick sputtered, clearly not expecting my response. “No.” He glared. “The seducing and then spraying dog repellant in his face thing.”

I shrugged.

“You have made an enemy.”

I shrugged again. “Not on purpose.”

He gave me a flat look. “In a time where you need all the allies you can get, you made a stupid move.”

“Oh? Are you saying you or anyone else in your pack will run to my defence when I meet Lucien? Or that if I play nice, you’ll stow me away instead of shipping me off to Lucien?”

Wick looked away.
Got him there.
We stood awkwardly in the driveway. I had a feeling Wick waited for me to say something.

“I wasn’t planning to use him,” I said. Without further words, we walked toward the house. This was the longest driveway ever and this conversation got more uncomfortable by the minute.

“He will see it that way.”

“He shouldn’t. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“To seduce him?” His voice raw.

“Of course not. The opportunity was the open window. I could have distracted or incapacitated Ryan in numerous ways. I chose the way I would enjoy the most.” Not completely true.

Wick stopped walking. “What?”

“I like him.” Not
exactly
a lie. I didn’t specify
how
I liked him.

Wick must’ve heard the truth in my statement because he pursed his lips and his shoulders sagged a little. “Maybe it’s a good thing he hates you.”

“Maybe he won’t after I have a chance to explain.”

“You will not pursue him.”

The command hit my wolf and made her want to roll over. My vision narrowed and turned red. My hands flew to my hips. “You do not have the right to dictate who I do or do not like or choose to pursue.”

Wick stepped in. I refused to give ground to him, so we stood an inch apart. Wick’s espresso eyes sparkled as yellow specks appeared. They turned golden. I watched in fascination as his wolf rose close to the surface. I should play submissive and not antagonize the big alpha wolf.

“You are mistaken. I have every right.”

“And why is that?”

He grabbed my wrists and pulled me closer. His body ground against mine. The growling vibrated through his chest and shook my body.

“You are my mate,” he rumbled.

A shiver tore through my body. My wolf howled and acknowledged the truth in his words. She’d known all along. Heat spread through my body and pooled between my legs. The scent of my desire mingled with Wick’s. My shocked gaze flashed to his. The yellow in my irises reflected back to me. My wolf surged forward, demanding control. I couldn’t hold her back.
Ah fuck.

His mouth crushed mine.

Hunger spiralled up and my mouth melted into his lips. The smoldering warmth inside built to a boil, threatening to explode.

“Mine,” Wick growled against my mouth.

Dylan’s powerful frame built for intimidation smothered me. He savored the air, my scent laced with trepidation and terror, his aphrodisiac. “Andrea McNeilly, you are mine.”

A cold shiver sliced through me more sharply than the memory. I pushed against Wick’s solid chest and broke contact.

“No,” I breathed, stemming the panic attack.

“No?” Wick released me in surprise.

“No,” I said more firmly, shaking my head.

His nose flared. “You have nothing to fear.” He gripped my arms as if he wanted to shake some sense into me, but I couldn’t look at his face.

My wolf leapt up again, seeking control. I squashed her down and shook my head again. “I’ll not be controlled again,” I said. My cat’s awareness answered my call. Her dominance smashed my wolf away and broke the connection with Wick’s wolf. He shuddered.

His hands dropped to his side, limp. After a moment, he seemed to regain his composure. “What do you mean
again
?”

I shook my head. Dylan’s words raced around, bouncing off the inside of my skull.
You are mine.

Wick pursed his lips. For the first time since I met him, uncertainty blanketed his face. He opened his mouth to say something else, so I jumped in to change the topic and the mood.

“Lead on, Captor.” Keeping all emotion from my voice, the familiar stony expression slid over my face. I nodded toward the house, knowing full well my behaviour was mean and unfair.

A bead of sweat pebbled on my nose as I fought to remain still and not squirm under Wick’s hard gaze. It threatened to crack my cold resolve, break the barriers I erected between anyone and myself. My walls did the job for years. But one penetrating look from Wick and they
weakened
under the force.

No!
I crossed my arms and stared back.

“As you wish.” His voice steel. Wick pulled me forward and we walked to the house in silence.

Apprehension shimmied down my spine as my four car entourage pulled up the long manicured driveway to a huge mansion. Lucien lived on South Marine drive. What did I expect? The house looked like one off a Hollywood reality show, with multiple levels, palm trees, a pool and some serious landscaping. Palm trees? In Vancouver?

Normally I would have felt like a princess…or the president, but the bound hands, cold stares and silent treatment ruined the fantasy. They didn’t gag me or put a bag over my head. That surprised me. Then again, everyone knew where Lucien’s lair was and nothing I said or did would prevent this meeting.

Since the situation with Wick in the driveway, I’d kept my cat close and my panting, hormonal wolf deeply suppressed. Wick wasn’t pleased. He spoke to me if required—“
Change the channel. I will not watch that.”
Frustration and anger embedded in every word.

The rest of the pack, sensing his mood, behaved as if on edge. Without having to say anything, I knew they blamed me. Plenty of death stares and cold shoulders were sent in my direction.

Wick didn’t bat an eyelash when I asked for a separate room. I guess we silently agreed we needed space and detachment. He had a sick sense of humour. Ryan was my personal guard. Awkward didn’t cover it. Learning from his mistake, he treated me as a true prisoner. The perfect professional.