Wolf's Capture (19 page)

Bare ass in the air while someone of the same sex wielded a knife on his skin?

For that indignity alone, Brody would kill the guy who called himself master. Slowly. Painfully. And if Travis didn’t stop laughing, he’d die, too.

From incredible ecstasy to horror. One moment, Layla was basking in the glow of an intense orgasm, face to face with Brody, who bore an expression so tender she could have sworn he was about to say something. Something momentous. Possibly life changing.

It never passed his lips. In seconds, their door got slammed open, his eyes widened as his body flattened on hers, but only for a moment before his body rolled off and he turned to confront the intruders. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening, especially once she felt the familiar sting of the sleeping darts.

The master had found them.

No. Not after this brief taste of happiness. Layla didn’t want to go back. She wanted to keep the freedom. Keep the pleasure she’d found in Brody’s arms and presence.

She fought the effects of the drug and tapped into her power. It flooded her with sensations; the whispery tingle of minds, some tiny, but others more distinct and aware, signaling a fair-sized animal. If she could bring them to her, perhaps they would provide enough distraction for—

The extra darts hit her, the drugs in them immediately going to work so quickly her eyes couldn’t help but slam shut. She was barely conscious when she fell forward, face first into a pillow. Through the lethargy stealing her free will, she thought she heard a howl of rage then nothing.

When next she blinked awake, she had to wonder if escape fifty-seven was but a dream because there above her were familiar bars along with a ceiling she knew all too well.

Was it but a dream?

Even she couldn’t imagine that vividly. Her time with Brody wasn’t a hallucination. And there were other clues such as the lingering effects of his lovemaking on her body, a soreness between her thighs and a fullness to her well-kissed lips. The scent of him still clung to the shirt they’d dressed her in before carting her back to prison.

A prison that didn’t hold him.

As she scrambled to her feet, Layla spun in a circle, seeking him out, searching for a sign he’d returned with her.

Alone.

All alone. What did it mean?

Oh my god did he die during the ambush?
Had the master killed her wolf?

The tears that sprang to her eyes surprised her. She’d thought herself past the ability to cry, but it seemed, despite her determination to not care, Brody had snuck past the walls that protected her emotions. He found a spot in the heart she’d thought too jaded to love.

Love?

Could it be? She’d thought it gone for good. Or had it just lain dormant, waiting for the right person? Not just any person. Brody.

The speaker crackled to life, obviously fixed during her flight for freedom. The master’s robotic voice boomed. “Welcome back, my pet. I trust your amorous tryst went well.”

She didn’t reply, huddling on her bed.

“What, nothing to say? How unusual for you. Good thing I am already aware of what happened. I knew you couldn’t resist the fellow if given the right opportunity.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Liar. Or have you forgotten how my men found you?”

How could she forget? “I didn’t do it for you.” Why the need to justify her actions she couldn’t have said, yet it seemed important to state aloud that she’d not slept with Brody to please master, but because she’d wanted him.

“How it happened doesn’t matter. The deed is done, and in a few days, we’ll know if it came to fruition.”

Master and his blasted plan to breed her. “And if it didn’t?”

“Is this your subtle way of asking if he’s still around for encores?”

“No.” But she wouldn’t mind knowing if he at least still lived.
Please say he got away or that he is being held elsewhere.

“Never fear. Your lover lives. Why wouldn’t he? The wolf came through for me. Although, he didn’t have to be so convincing with his supposed rescue. The men he killed won’t be easy to replace.”

A cold feeling made her stomach clench. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you find your escape too easy?”

Master called the hell they went through to reach safety easy? “We fought every inch of the way.”

“To make it seem real, but all along, the wolf was following orders.”

“You’re lying.”

“If it makes you feel better to think so.”

“I know so.”

“Do you? What do you really know about Brody? Haven’t you yet wondered how I found you so easily?”

She’d assumed master had men stationed in nearby towns watching for them to surface. It didn’t mean Brody betrayed her. “I know all about your spy network.”

“Which I didn’t need this time. Not when Brody took you to a predetermined spot.”

“I don’t believe you.” The whole trip wasn’t a lie. Brody was as lost as her in those woods. She’d seen him keeping an eye on the sun in the sky as they traveled, making sure they didn’t go in circles.

“Did you not find it suspicious none of my men ever actually hit him with bullets? They’re not that bad a shot. Come on, Layla, you’re a smart girl. Stop denying it. The whole thing was a setup so you’d trust him and let him between your thighs. And it worked.”

Robotic voice or not, she could still hear the malicious glee in master’s declaration.

She didn’t want to believe. Refused to.

No. Not Brody.
Please don’t tell me he betrayed me. Not after I let myself trust him. And love him.

Then again, was she really surprised? History had a tendency of repeating itself.

No. She shook her head to clear it of the insidious thoughts creeping in. Brody was different. If anyone was lying right now, it was master. To what end, she couldn’t know.

Or maybe she did.

The master did so enjoy crushing hope and happiness. What better torture could he devise for her than to make her believe the one good thing she’d experienced in her life was a lie?

Master lied.

Brody hadn’t betrayed her.

And if he hadn’t, if Brody truly did care for her like he’d hinted, then he would come for her, but only if he knew where to find her.

I have to find a way to contact him.
Reaching out with her senses, she didn’t get far. The thick stone of the basement was still a great barrier to the outside. Within the walls of the house, only the smallest of insects dared survive.

There was nothing she could use.

However, that knowledge didn’t frighten her as much as the fact that the master didn’t plan to stay.

A pair of guards appeared, one aiming a tranquilizer gun at her. “Cooperate or we’ll tag you.”

An unfamiliar guard licked his thick lips. “I vote we tag her anyway. Then she won’t be able to do a thing about us checking out what she’s been hiding under that gown.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” She backed away from them.

The second guard stepped forward, dangling cuffs. “He won’t touch you, but only if you behave. On your knees, arms behind your back.”

Layla wouldn’t win in a battle of strength. Nor could she do anything if they rendered her unconscious. She knelt and laced her hands behind her.

The familiar cold metal restraints almost quashed the remainder of her hope. As they trudged up the stairs though, she tried not to let the remaining tiny flame of optimism extinguish.

Master, dressed in a robe with his usual face mask, awaited them. “Hello, pet. In the mood for a field trip?”

A ball of dread formed in her stomach. “What are you talking about? A trip to where? And why?”

Having met Brody and heard stories of Kodiak Point and its inhabitants, she doubted she could willingly cause them any more harm. Master could threaten all he wanted. She was done trying to hurt people whose only crime was pissing off the psycho who held her prisoner.

“I’m done here. Say goodbye to this blasted country. We’re going home.”

Home as in back overseas to the dry sands and mountains she’d once come from?

How would Brody ever find her then?

Panicked, she cast out her senses. She needed something that could find Brody. Something she could take over.

There, high overhead, a bird. A lone goose with a small brain, but she didn’t need anything more.

She shoved instructions at it but didn’t know if they took because a blow to her head sent her staggering to the floor.

“Naughty, pet. Don’t you get it? Escape is futile. Don’t make me drug you.”

“Drug me and you could harm any possible baby.”

“Good point. I’m sure Harry over here wouldn’t mind knocking you unconscious though if I asked.”

Seething behind the hair that had flopped over her face, she muttered. “I’ll behave.” Until a better chance occurred. She needed to enact escape fifty-eight before she got on the plane. Slim chance of that happening, not with all the men surrounding her and master watching her every move, even if he was a hooded hawk.

What I really need is a miracle.

I chose wrong.
The property Brody let his gut select wasn’t the one. He could tell as soon as the long drive ended and the house appeared.

Wrong place. Wrong location. Even worse, time was ticking. A sense of urgency imbued him.
Hurry
his sixth sense screamed.
Hurry, she doesn’t have much time.

Brody jumped out of the truck when Boris stopped and gave the air a sniff, just in case. After all, he’d escaped at night and fought his way free.

A futile hope.

This place belonged to the wildlife that had taken over the house, not a psychopath and his minions.

Angling his head to the sky, he couldn’t stop a frustrated howl from bursting free. Frustration gripped him.

Good thing Travis the optimist wasn’t affected. “I’ve got the GPS plotting the quickest route to the next place,” he announced from the back of the truck.

“And what if that one is wrong too?” Brody growled. “Fuck.” He kicked at the ground in his bare feet, the attire they’d acquired not extending to footwear, not for his size-fourteen feet.

To make his day even fucking brighter, a goose passing overhead chose to drop a hot load, and it spattered his toes.

“You’re lucky you’re way up there,” he yelled to the soaring bird in the sky, “or I’d be roasting your ass for dinner.”

As if in answer to his challenge, the snow goose circled down and honked at him before banking away and heading northeast.

“Yeah, you better fly, before I get a gun and shoot.” Brody turned and headed back to the truck, only to stop as the goose honked at him again.

It seemed the bird had circled back around, totally atypical behavior even for the aggressive foul. Once more, the goose honked when he saw it had Brody’s attention before veering again and heading in the exact same direction as before.

Wait a second…
Could it be?

A weapon clicked as a safety was taken off, and Brody had only a moment to knock Boris’ arm, sending the shot wild.

“You made me miss!” Boris sounded incredulous, probably because the man was an excellent shot.

“Don’t shoot that bird.”

“Why the fuck not? He’s asking to become dinner.”

“Or he’s trying to send me a message.”

“Have you become completely unhinged?” Boris asked.

“I think that goose is a message from Layla.”

“You think an animal that’s best contribution to society is feather pillows and a Sunday cooked dinner—”

“Stuffed with Mom’s secret blend of herbs, croutons and bacon, then served with the fluffiest mashed potatoes and fresh biscuits,” Travis interjected.

“—is actually some kind of what, secret messenger?” Boris snorted in clear derision.

“And they say I was dropped too many times on my head,” said Travis with a laugh.

“I can’t explain right now. Just trust me. We need to follow that bird.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me.”

That was good enough for the moose. Problem was, the truck wouldn’t make it through the woods.

Brody had to make a split-second decision. It so happened to the northeast was the farthest property they needed to reach—if they took to the roads. However, if a certain nimble wolf went at it on foot?

Shedding his clothes, Brody quickly gave them instructions. “I’ll go on four legs. You guys take the road and call in for help. I’ll take the cell phone with me. You’ll have to harness it so I can carry it in wolf form.”

“No problem. I’ve got something that should work in the back of my truck. Travis, call Kyle and have him put a lock on Brody’s signal just in case.” Boris added. “Wouldn’t want to lose wolfboy again.”

“Hardy-har. Look who thinks he’s a comedian now,” Brody grumbled. “Instead of cracking jokes, why don’t you call Reid and the others?” They weren’t far behind them at this point, having cut across the state to reach them.

“Yadda, yadda. I know what to do,” Boris grumbled. “Just go.”

“And save some bad guys for us,” Travis added, hanging out the window. “I need to practice my grizzly moves.”

Brody couldn’t promise anything though, and not just because he’d gone wolf. If anyone dared harm a hair on Layla’s head, their lives weren’t worth squat.
Hurt my woman and die.

Reid, Gene, and Boris weren’t the only ones who didn’t believe in mercy when those they loved were at risk.

Four feet were fleet, especially when on the most important mission of his life. Brody’s theory about the goose seemed to hold true, as the avian guide never let him fall too far behind and flew in a straight path through terrain that began to seem familiar.

Was this the ravine he’d jumped in with Layla? He was hopefully on the right side of it. The more he ran, the more sure he became she was close.

He pumped his legs faster, the breeze of his own passage ruffling his fur. He burst from the woods without stopping, relying on surprise. Except there was no one there to greet him.

This was the right place. His nose was sure of it.

Yet…

The sniper on the roof didn’t take a shot because he wasn’t there.