Twisted (2 page)

Maggie hustled toward Jase and touched his arm. “You’re neither damaged nor destroyed.”

His smile didn’t come close to reaching his stunning eyes. The vampire was over three centuries old, but he looked about twenty-five. Until you looked into his eyes.

They showed the torment he’d faced while being held captive and tortured by demons. “Thank you, Mags.” He prodded an unconscious wolf with his boot. “Are they after Maggie, Terrent?” Jase’s voice dropped to a tone filled with warning.

“I just arrived in Washington State.” Maggie eyed the demolished room. Overturned furniture, scraped wallpaper, and broken lamps littered the floor. “No wolves could be after me.”

“Right.” Jase glanced at Terrent. “You okay?”

Terrent nodded. “Fine.” He frowned down at his now tat-tered shirt. “Though I ruined my one good shirt.”

Maggie started. “That’s your
good
shirt?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Yes. It was rip-free.”

Maybe he
had
made an effort before seeing her. Sad, kind-of-pathetic-in-a-male-way effort . . . but an effort none-theless. She smiled at him.

Confusion blanketed his features. Then he turned back toward Jase. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Jase muttered. “Who attacked us?”

Terrent scratched his chin. “I don’t recognize any of them, but they’re definitely wolves.”

Awareness hummed through Maggie’s veins. “How could they be wolves? At first, I was unable to smell them. Then all of a sudden, their scents filled the room.”

He lifted a large shoulder. “Hmmm.”

Now that wasn’t forthcoming. Maggie tapped her foot.

“You’re the head of the Bane’s Council—don’t you know everybody?”

“No.” He prodded the downed man more forcefully than Jase had. “But I know the ones in this area. Somebody else sent these three—I have no idea how they knew you’d be here.”

Maggie’s head jerked up. “Why would wolves be after me?”

“What’s going on, Terrent?” Jase asked not-so-kindly.

The wolf set his jaw.

Maggie shook off anger. “Apparently I’m a big ole slut who fucked wolf-boy senseless ten years ago, and it sounded like more than once.” Heat filled her face.

Jase whirled toward Terrent. “Explain.”

While Maggie didn’t remember any wolves, instinct screamed inside her head that cornering one was a bad idea.

An extremely bad idea.

His eyes flared hotter than black, his jaw firmed, and something dangerous danced on his skin.

But what the hell
. “He hunted me for months, knew all about me, and then got all carnal with me. For years, he’s known who I am . . . and hasn’t told.” She slammed both hands on her hips and stepped toward him. “Time to fess up.”

Jase growled low. “The king isn’t going to like your silence, Vilks.”

“I don’t answer to your brother, Kayrs,” Terrent snapped back.

Tension cut through the haze. Maggie sighed and inserted herself between the two furious males. “Let’s all take a deep breath. We’re allies and should act as such.” She pressed her hands together. “While the Bane’s Council doesn’t answer to anybody, they are part of the Realm, and we work as a team.”

The men continued to glare over her head.

Jase settled his stance. “Who the hell is she?”

Terrent’s nostrils flared. Slowly, he turned his head until his gaze pierced Maggie’s. “My mate.”

Maggie ran.

Pure and simple, she turned tail and dodged through the house and out the back door. The smell of huckleberries hit her first, the glide of a waning sun next. She cleared a rough stone fence with one hurdle, running into the cool forest.

Thank goodness the guest mansion was near the trees.

Even in human form, Maggie’s wolf genes allowed her to see the world flashing by vividly. Bright colors, muted tones, life.

Her toe caught on a rock, and she barely kept from falling.

Windmilling her arms, she regained her balance. She ran until her breath panted, her knees ached, and her mind cleared.

Mate?

No way. The idea alternatively intrigued and terrified her.

Mated to Terrent Vilks?

No. Not possible. She knew her body, and there was no marking on her skin. No bite marks to show she had a mate . . .

that she belonged to somebody.

She didn’t belong to anybody.

And damn if that didn’t hurt.

Maggie halted and allowed the sun to bathe her. Several deep breaths sharpened her focus. A lumbering rippled through the woods behind her.

So she did what any self-respecting animal would do. She scrambled up a tree.

Bark cut into her hands, and pine needles jabbed into her hair, but she made the climb toward the top. From her vantage point, she could track the man jogging her way. He’d ditched his shoes. Interesting.

Terrent loped to a stop, his head upturned, his nostrils flaring. Slowly, he angled to the side of her tree and peered up. “You’ve been living with cats too long.”

“I live with vampires.” Sure, her best friend was a feline shifter, and they had lived together for some time in NOLA, but now she lived with the fanged.

He shook his shaggy head. “Wolves don’t climb trees.”

“I just did.” She wiped her stinging palms on her shredded jeans.

He kicked loose bark away from his bare, very masculine feet. “You made a mess. A feline wouldn’t have left evidence.”

What the heck did evidence matter? “You can smell me, wolf. Tree bark and trails don’t matter.”

“You can mask your scent.” He eyed the lower branches.

“Just like the three wolves back at the house.”

She stilled and then grabbed the nearest branch for balance. Leaning out, she surveyed him. “What?”

“Come down and I’ll tell you.” Low, deep, his voice wandered under her skin to her sex, settling right in.

She swallowed twice. Her nipples hardened and threatened her pretty pink bra. The man was dangerous on too many levels. She never should’ve agreed to this mission. Not even for the king. “No.”

“Don’t make me come up and get you.” The order held bite.

“You’re not my mate.” The branch below her cracked.

A deep growl rumbled from Terrent. He yanked a picture from his back pocket.

Even from a distance, Maggie could make out the photo-graph of her and Terrent smiling into the camera, their arms around each other. Her hair was a lot longer then. She swallowed. They looked close. “So we knew each other.”

“Yes.” He reached for a branch, only to drop it and grab a different one. His mouth twisted in a pained grimace. “Come down. Now.”

Wait a minute. She bit her lip. Was the big, bad wolf afraid of heights? “I think you should come up and get me.”

He stilled, his gaze piercing through the night. “If I have to come up and get you, little wolf, you’ll regret it.”

She levered out to sit on a thick branch, swinging her feet back and forth. “I’m waiting.” Her singsong voice filled the forest.

“Get back closer to the tree,” he snapped. Red swept across his cheekbones.

“Make me.” She scooted farther away from the trunk, her legs dangling, her hands on a branch above her head. This was the most fun she’d had in too long.

“Damn it, Maggie.”

“Tell me the truth, or I’ll start swinging from branches.”

To prove her point, she bent her knee and ran her foot along the branch.

“I should let you fall on your damn stubborn head.” He tugged on a lower branch, testing his weight. The thing snapped in two.

Maggie laughed and guided her other foot into place so she could stand. “Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie.” He reached for a higher branch and growled as it ripped from the tree. “You agreed to be my mate.”

“Were we in love?”

“Absolutely.”

Not likely. “I may not know a lot of wolves, but something tells me we don’t contract to mate. If we were truly together, which I’m not sure about, then any mating would’ve occurred quickly.”

“You calling me a liar, darlin’?” His voice lowered to a softness that slid danger into deadly.

The hair pricked up on the back of her neck. “I haven’t decided.”

“Let me know when you do.”

Her branch shuddered and then splintered apart. With a soft cry, she jumped and landed on a branch several feet down. Pine needles flew, and bark crumbled, but the damn thing held her.

He smiled. “Close enough.” Bunching his legs, he leaped.

The wolf hit her mid-center and tucked her into his hard body. She screamed as they sailed through the boughs. He rolled them several times in midair, wrapping long legs and arms around her.

Gravity yanked them down like the powerful force it was.

She landed on top of him and lost every bit of oxygen from her lungs. Maybe her muscles. Hell, maybe her brain.

Her chin thunked against his chest. Taking several deep breaths, she went boneless on him as she took inventory.

Nothing really hurt.

“Are you all right?” he rumbled, both hands flattening against her lower back.

Her entire lower back.

She lifted her head. “Fine. You?”

He grimaced and shifted his weight beneath her. “I’m good, though pine needles may have pierced my spine.”

All of that incredible muscle rolling into place against her body flared nerves to life. All sorts of nerves . . . in all sorts of places. She pushed against his chest to get off.

She didn’t move.

He exhaled. “We need to talk.”

“Then get your hand off my ass.” Yeah. He’d copped a feel.

His grin flashed strong white teeth. “Sorry. I’ve missed this ass.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Apparently not. It’s not like you tried to help me remember.”

He pursed his lips in what could only be termed a wounded male expression. “I figured the memories were so good, you’d remember on your own.”

Her eye roll made her dizzy. “Whatever.”

“Plus, I’ve been a bit busy fighting werewolves, demons, and Kurjans the last decade.” His jaw firmed. “As you know, the werewolf population exploded, and I needed to fight. The king promised to keep you safe. I hoped you’d remember while you healed. You’re damn stubborn, sweetheart.”

“You think you know me?”

“Yes. In fact—” he ran his fingers along the bottom of her buttock, where ass met leg—“I believe there’s a very nice, properly small, fang mark right . . . here.”

Fire blasted through her. She swallowed. Twice. “I thought that was just a scar.”

“It is.” His fangs dropped low. “See?”

Yeah. She saw. “Put those away.”

The sharp points retracted. He settled into the rustling leaves, both hands again pressing against her back. “Your name is Maggie Malone, you’re a wolf-shifter from Vaile Island, you’re being hunted by demons, and you make the sweetest sound of need right before you come.”

Now was not the time to flirt. “Malone?” she snorted.

“My name is actually cutesy Maggie Malone?”

“Yes.”

Her heart glitched in hope. “I’m from an island?”

“Yes. Vaile Island off of Scotland.”

Slowly, cautiously, she opened her mouth. “Do I, uh, have family?”

His eyes darkened, and he patted her back. Well, that massive hand smacked her back. But he tried. “No. No family, sweetheart.”

Surprising that hearing the truth she’d already known hurt. “Oh.”

“Except me.” He smacked her again.

God keep her from enormous wolves trying to comfort her. “I don’t know you.”

“Do you need to see the fangs again?”

She barked out a laugh—she couldn’t help it. For being a killer, the guy was kind of charming. And sweet. “No. I’m good.” She settled her chin on her hands, keeping his gaze.

“Why haven’t you told me any of this before?” She wanted to like him . . . but she might end up trying to kill him.

He sighed. “The wolves on Vaile Island are, ah, special.

They can mask their scents—and the world is unaware of the ability. Not even the vampires know the truth.”

“So they hide from people?” Her people were cowards?

“Ah, no. They’re contract assassins and soldiers.” His gaze wandered to her face. “So if I would’ve told you, or the vampires, then you would’ve been returned to the Vaile pack. Believe me, you didn’t want to be returned. So I figured I’d let your memories come back on their own, especially since I couldn’t be there for you while the war was exploding and I needed to fight.”

Her head started to ache. “So why tell me now?”

“Our contacts have informed us that the Vailes have discovered you’re alive, so I wanted you to know the whole truth.”

About damn time. “Why wouldn’t I have wanted to go home?” she whispered.

He sighed. “You were raised by your grandpa, and when he died, you had a falling-out with the new Alpha wolf, so you headed out on your own.”

“Falling-out?”

“Yes. Felix McClure is an insane son of a bitch, and when you refused to mate him, he went crazy. You fled.”

Good thing she’d trained with shifters and vampires the last decade. “I’d like to meet up with him.”

“He probably sent the wolves to get you now that everyone knows you’re alive.”

So they weren’t in town to kill her—only fetch her. “McClure’s crazy enough to want me back after all this time?”

“Yep. You’re from the strongest line of wolves who can mask, and you’re in demand, sweetheart.”

His eyes had veiled enough for her to wonder. What was he not telling her? “Why were you hunting me?” More important, why had she agreed to mate him?

He brushed hair away from her face. “Your grandpa saved my life in the last war and I owed him. He called me right before he died, and I agreed to find you and help you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you caught up to me. What happened?”

“We fell in love and decided to mate.” Terrent’s jaw firmed. “It’s the best course of action to keep you safe.”

Emotional and logical? Doubtful. She frowned.

“Okay. It took persuasion, but you did agree.” He sighed.

“As for my part, I owe your grandpa, I like you, and I’m ready to have a family.”

That was kind of sweet. And the erection digging into her belly showed he did like her. A lot. “So what happened?”

“You changed your mind and took off . . . the Kurjans somehow found you . . . and you know the rest.” Anger blazed through Terrent’s dark eyes.