Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5) (14 page)

I’d spent the past hour applying my makeup. A little rouge and eye shadow marked my wrist where I planned to cuff myself. The manacle at the end of the chain looked realistic even though it was thick plastic. The large links were dark and rusty looking, and I planned to attach them to the pole. I wore heavy liner to draw attention to my dark brown eyes.

“What exactly are you scheming, missy?” Daphne gave me a serious once-over as she stood up. “You do realize you look like a dirty slave?”

“Exactly,” I purred, swinging the chain. “These men have primal instincts I’m about to tap into. Human men want to be taken care of, but this fantasy plays into the Breed mind.” I wrapped the chain around the back of her neck, pulling her close. “And you know how our men love being heroes. The Shifters and Chitahs won’t know what hit them when they see a helpless woman in need of their protection.”

Her eyes widened. “Girl, you might start a war in there.”

“Let’s just say I’m taking no prisoners.” I winked and let the chain fall free from her neck. “I’m about to prove why you should stop learning all your tricks from those human clubs.”

I’d given all my plans to our stagehand earlier, and he’d volunteered to help with the effects behind the curtain at the back of the stage. Manny designed props, adjusted the lighting, cleaned the stage, and helped repair torn costumes. One of the girls had told me he was a Relic born without his parents’ knowledge having been passed on to him—a defect. Relics made careers from the knowledge their ancestors genetically passed down, making them experts in certain fields. Without that knowledge, they were nothing but a human with a slight chance of being able to have Relic children who might or might not inherit the wisdom that had skipped their parent.

I walked onstage, shrouded in darkness. Customers were happily getting their drinks refilled by beautiful women. I searched the room, looking for Wheeler. When I caught sight of him in the back, twirling a silver butterfly knife, I actually blew out a breath. He had his eyes on the crowd, watching every man sitting alone or who walked past him.

The music changed over and a steady beat and the sound of drums filled the room. I’d selected a rhythmic song that didn’t have the distraction of lyrics, and if sex could be translated to music, this song would have been it.

I clamped the cuff around the pole and crouched down on my side. It wasn’t until the spotlight showered me that the men turned their attention my way.

And
boy
, did they! I peered through my hair and saw the tip rail fill up. It wasn’t the kind of routine where I collected the money by hand or in the strap of my thong. Breed bars had their own system, and during the main attraction, the stage bouncers set my boxes at the designated areas on the stage for tipping. After the show, I’d walk around and find out who really enjoyed my performance… and how much.

Visual effects appeared on the thin blue curtain behind me where Manny had adjusted the lights along with props. It looked like ripples of midnight blue bringing to life a silhouette of twisted tree limbs. I rose to my hands and knees, looking around as if something were hunting me.

A couple of men gripped the bar around the stage, leaning forward, eyes wide, enthralled by the action unfolding.

Then I slowly tugged at the chain attached from my wrist to the pole. Unable to free myself, I walked around the pole and leapt up, spinning in an acrobatic move with my arm outstretched.

When the beat dropped, I collapsed to the floor. A man gasped and lurched to his feet, thinking I had fallen by accident. I glanced over my shoulder with a panicked expression, every move calculated and dramatic. As I did this, I stood up and pulled at the chain, spinning under it and combining dance moves with an artistic interpretation of a woman in peril. My unkempt hair caressed my body with each sultry turn.

I climbed the pole in search of escape, turning upside down and locking my long legs. Once I had a good grip with my hands, I slowly spread my legs and then swung around, twirling off the pole. The beat sounded like native drums, and I frantically gathered up the chain as the shadows shifted and changed on the curtain.

A predator moved into sight—the silhouette of a black panther.

I looked upon the men with smoldering eyes, drawing them in. The next thing I knew, men were getting out of their chairs to put money in my boxes but also to inch closer to the stage. The bouncers continued pushing them back to their seats, but the men were riveted.

A Chitah’s fangs punched out—top and bottom—and a bouncer forced him away from the stage before he flipped his switch and went primal. Luckily, his eyes were still golden. I paid closer attention to how the crowd was responding since I’d never performed this act before and didn’t want to incite a riot.

I fell to my knees and arched my back, letting the chain slip between my legs. The beat intensified and I pulled myself up, swinging hard around the pole. After the music reached a crescendo, it fell quiet. Just long enough that a growl ripped through the air and sent a chill up my spine. It was just sound effects, but maybe the intense reaction from the crowd had me on edge. When I sexily approached them, the lights shut out and the panther snarled.

A dim, lustrous red light enveloped me—a foreboding symbol of blood and death. I slid along the polished floor, turning and struggling against an invisible force.

All I could see were bills flying into my boxes and onto the stage. The men were entranced, and I felt like a woman reborn. I’d finally broken away from my gimmicky acts and struck a chord with the audience in a completely artistic way.

My heart raced when I saw a man in black approaching me from offstage wearing a ski mask that only revealed his eyes and mouth. I furrowed my brows. As the man neared, my heart galloped in my chest when I stared into a set of blue eyes.

Panic set in. The beat intensified, the crowd held their breath, and I fumbled with the chain in a feeble attempt to free my hand. It was only plastic—but hard plastic, and there was a trick to getting the shackle undone.

The men in the audience thought it was part of the act. I wanted to yell for help, but they wouldn’t believe me, or even worse, it could start a riot and erupt in a fight. I swallowed hard and backed up toward the pole.

“Wheeler?” I called out, looking toward the back of the room. Surely this man wouldn’t do anything stupid in front of all these people. I didn’t see Wheeler, and that’s when my panic ripened into a dark emotion.

I grabbed the pole with both hands and kicked him in the chest. The men cheered, some of them slapping their hands on the tables. Whether or not this was a joke, I wasn’t taking any chances.

The masked man stood up and rushed me. The next thing I knew, he gripped my hair so hard that I screamed. A strobe flickered in front of my eyes from a slender instrument…

And my panther emerged.

I clenched my teeth around something hard and splintery.
As I blinked a few times, I realized I was coming out of a shift. I was also chewing on a wooden leg that belonged to a coffee table. I scooted back and picked a wood chip out of my mouth.

Where am I?
The last thing I remembered was dancing… and a man forcing me to shift. Oh my God, the memories were rushing back. When the crowd laid eyes on my panther, it was pandemonium. Thankfully, the shackle around her paw had given the customers enough time to escape. She’d fled the stage, panicked by the movement and shouting. I’d struggled to regain control but had lost the battle.

I wiped my mouth and quickly sat up, my hands trembling. The first thing I noticed was the smell. Fresh varnish mixed with pine. The floors and walls were all wood, and there were no windows. A giant flat-screen television hung on the wall ahead of me, behind me was a brown sofa. Beyond the sofa was a bed in what looked like an extension of the room.

“Hello?”

My legs felt like bags of cement as I struggled to stand. I smacked my lips when a specific food craving suddenly ripped through me, creating a gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach.

“Clothes would be nice,” I murmured, glancing around in search for something to cover up with. I snatched the green chenille throw from the back of the couch and wrapped it around me.

In the left-hand corner of the room were two doors. The right door led to a tiny bathroom with a standing shower, toilet, and a vintage pedestal sink. Someone had locked the other door from the outside.

I gave the room another glance. To the right of the television was a kitchenette. Scenic paintings decorated the room with images of grassy meadows, a winding river that stretched toward a mountain, and two wolves standing in front of white birch trees. The landscapes of nature compensated for the absence of windows. No overhead light or fan, just a couple of brown lamps with dingy shades.

“Someone answer me!” I pounded my fist against the door, dizzy with fear and anger. The latter emotion had won the battle. “Open the motherfucking—”

I gasped when the door suddenly swung inward.

“That’s quite a mouth you’ve got on you,” Wheeler said, leaning on the doorjamb.

I didn’t know whether to slap or kiss him. Maybe both. “Where am I?”

“The heat house.”

“The
what
house?”

Then it clicked. He meant the small house Lexi had mentioned—the one that gave the girls a private place to let their hormones fly, or at the very least, a room separate from the house for the couples to unleash their passion.

“You’re staying here the night,” he said matter-of-factly.

“But Misha—”

“That’s not an offer, Naya. Packmaster’s orders.”

I jutted my hip out. “Well, he’s not my Packmaster. What happened? Did I hurt anyone?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Did you catch the man who attacked me?”

Wheeler stepped forward. “Someone attacked you?”

“Where were you!” I screamed. Accused. Blamed. My lip quivered, not afraid of what could have happened to me, but what could have happened to others
because
of me.

He gripped my shoulders. “Chill and get some sleep. You’re just wired up because of the shift.”

I wriggled free of his grasp. Wheeler stroked the bristly hair on his chin, and the way he looked at me was different—not like before. Not the same. My skin crawled as if I’d been exposed to the core and he’d seen every bit of what I’d been hiding from everyone my entire life.

I smoothed out all the rough edges in my voice. “Why can’t I go home?”

“Home isn’t safe.”

“Since when?”

His brows sloped down as he lowered his chin. Wheeler seemed to have mastered the stern face. “Since thirty seconds ago when you said someone attacked you.” His gaze flicked behind me and his lip twitched. “I see you found something to snack on.”

I whirled around and looked at the coffee table with embarrassment. My panther had not just gnawed on one leg but chewed off another. It’s one reason I’d switched my furniture to glass tables instead of wood.

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll have it replaced,” I said absently.

Something made me turn around and look at Wheeler—a small detail I had initially disregarded, but now it became a niggling question in my head. “What happened to your eye?”

He touched the dark bruise on his left eye. “That all you plan on wearing?”

“I need to speak to someone who will give me answers.”

“As you wish,
Diva
.”

“Have a good evening,
Grumpy
.”

When he closed the door behind him, I sat on the sofa and huffed out a breath. Had he seen my panther? My God, he must have. But how did I get here? Maybe I’d blacked out in human form, and when he put me in here, I’d shifted back to my panther. I wasn’t sure what aftereffects the strobe device had, but it left me disoriented.

A rapid series of knocks sounded on the door. Before I could answer, the door opened.

“Naya, are you okay?” Lexi slammed the door behind her and ran toward the sofa where I was sitting. Then she hissed and lifted up her bare foot. “Dammit! I got a splinter.”

“Oh, honey…”

“No, I’m fine.” She sat to my left and looked me over. “Seriously. What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. One second I’m onstage during a performance, and the next, a man came up and forced me to shift.”

She grimaced. “In front of everyone? You’re kidding me. What the hell kind of lunatic would make someone shift in a Breed club without knowing what their animal was?”

“A fool who knew
exactly
what my animal was.”

“Come again?”

I sighed and brushed back my unkempt hair. “The reason I came to speak with Austin privately was to ask for protection. I paid for a bodyguard. Remember the girl at the club who went missing? It happened again, and then someone came after
me
. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m frightened. This just doesn’t feel like my life anymore. I want to go home and sleep in my bed, cuddle with Misha, and not feel this rising sense of dread that others have me figured out.”

Lexi swept her hair behind her shoulders and then clasped her hands together. “We saw your panther.”

My blood chilled.

She shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Wheeler called ahead to tell us he was bringing home a live panther and to move everyone upstairs until he secured the heat house. Austin had a fit. He went out to meet him by the road and they got into a fight.” Lexi shook her head and briefly looked up at the ceiling. “This isn’t good. I don’t know what Wheeler’s standing is with the pack anymore—not after this. When I found out it was you, I begged Austin to let you stay for the night. You were still in the back of Wheeler’s Camaro, and Austin yelled at me to get in the house. He’s never done that before, but I could see the fear in his eyes. I’ve heard a few stories about Shifter history, but I guess I never knew how deep-seated the fear of panthers was. Not until I saw that look.”

“Was I awake in the car?”

She chuckled in disbelief. “We could hear your cat growling all the way inside. Wheeler didn’t have the same look of fear in his eyes that Austin did. I had a good view from the upstairs window. He had a chain looped around your neck and walked you up to the porch as if you were his pet or something.”

My jaw dropped. “He
what?
”

Impossible! Was this a joke?
Lexi must have been nipping at the wine. There was absolutely no way my panther would have been submissive to anyone, let alone a wolf. I couldn’t even consider it.

She pulled her foot up and poked at it, looking for the sliver of wood in her heel. “Well, you’ve been the talk of the house since your arrival. I’m glad you shifted back, because Austin hasn’t been able to stop pacing. A hall connects this room to the main house, but he intentionally built it without windows to make sure anyone using it was safe from outsiders getting in. He put a lock on both sides, but he’s never used the outside lock until tonight.”

“Why would he lock the door from the outside to begin with?”

“I suppose he was afraid one of us girls might get really horny, break down the door, and mount one of them,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “The worst part about it was that the heat house was
my
idea. I was joking at the time, but Austin never forgets anything I say.”

I placed my hand over my chest, fighting the urge to have a complete meltdown. I didn’t like being weak in front of anyone; that’s not the kind of woman I was. I’d always been strong—a fighter—but now it seemed like I was fighting shadows.

“Naya?” Lexi asked in a soft voice, brushing a swath of hair away from my face. “Hey, it’s me. I don’t care if you’re a panther or a skunk; I love you regardless. You hear me? Maybe I’m a little terrified of your animal, and I don’t expect we’ll be best buddies, but that’s fine.”

A bubble of laughter burst out, and I smiled. “I’m so sorry for all this. I didn’t mean to cause a rift in your pack, and I would have never asked Wheeler to bring me here. I still don’t understand how…”

She put her foot down and winced. “Good news. You have a few clothes here. Remember the trip we were going to take to Padre Island and then your dickhead boss called you in to work? You were so pissed off that you flew out the door and left your bag behind. You told me to keep it here until our next trip. It’s just outside the door and it probably has everything you’ll need, including a toothbrush and all that. I’m going to talk Austin into letting you stay here a while longer.”

“No, no. Not necessary.”

Her head jerked back. “Oh, really? A maniac is after you and I’m supposed to send you home? Not happening. If Austin kicks you out, then you’re staying in a hotel, and I’m going with you.”

“Lexi, really, I’m fine. It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over.”

“You’re
not
fine!” she shouted.

“Look at the trouble I’ve caused! I don’t want you and Austin to fight because of me, and I definitely don’t want to put anyone in harm’s way.”

She catapulted to her feet. “You’re my best friend, and you could never ask for too much. Hell, you never ask for
anything
. I’m offering, you’re accepting, end of story.”

“Cat fight?” Denver loomed in the doorway, eating pears straight out of the can.

Lexi glared down at his bare feet when he crossed them at the ankle. “Don’t come in here,” she said. “There are splinters all over the floor.”

“Didn’t plan on it, honeypie. Just wanted to watch the show. Heard meowing all the way in the kitchen.”

“Wipe that smug grin off your face,” she said, shoving at his naked chest. “You’re only in a good mood because you won the bet.”

I leaned forward, tightening the throw around me. “What bet?”

Lexi twisted around, her face carrying a look of disdain. “These idiots had a running bet on your animal.”

“A hundred dollars per person is nothing to sneeze at,” he said with a mouthful of pears. “I’m the only one who said panther. We had bets on cougar, mountain lion, bear—”

I snorted. “Who thought I was a grizzly?”

“Get out of here!” Lexi shoved him backward, and I heard the can drop on the floor.

“The fuck? I’m not cleaning that up,” he said.

The next thing I saw was my bag hurling over Lexi’s head and hitting the fridge.

Lexi bent over out of sight, and then I heard the metallic clinking of silverware in the distance.

“You missed!” he yelled out.

“Are you craving anything?” she asked politely.

I waved my hand and stood up. “My old life?”

“Anything you need and I’m here for you. There’s a phone on the table,” she said, pointing to the long table to the left of the door. “Ring me if you need anything, but we’re not locking you in anymore. That was temporary until you shifted back—not that your panther would have figured out how to turn the knob, but I didn’t have any say in the matter. My house is yours, so feel free to come out anytime and walk around.”

I felt like an interloper now more than ever before. A panther in a house full of wolves? No, I didn’t feel the welcome mat rolling out from anyone but Lexi. I unzipped my bag and pulled out something to sleep in. Lexi watched me from the door, eyes brimming with questions, but I knew she was anxious to get back to Austin and smooth things over.

“I suppose this will all be aired out in the morning,” I said. “No need to fuss over me. You’re a darling for letting me stay despite the circumstances.”

Her gaze drifted toward the floor. “No matter how mad Austin is, he remembers what you did for me with Beckett. If someone had discovered the body and called the police, it could have been so much worse. No one asked you to help—you just did it. Maybe that’s why no matter how bad this seems, you have nothing to worry about. He’ll come around, but I get why he’s upset. He has a pack to lead, and Wheeler was pretty stupid for walking you in like that. Anything I can do before I go to bed?”