Wolf's Capture (6 page)

“You read that?” His remark might have emerged a tad dismissive because she took a defensive, yet stubborn, tone when she replied.

Chin angled, she said, “Yes, I read
that.
It’s called romance.”

“Romance?” He snorted. “Let’s call it what it is. You read dirty books.”

The glare she shot him was probably meant to cow, but damn if she didn’t look hotter.

“What is it with men and their judgmental ways? It’s a romance book, as in a story about a man and a woman who have some type of adventure, fall in love, and end up living happily ever after.”

“And have sex.”

Despite her tanned skin, her cheeks still pinked. “Yes, they have intimate relations. But it’s not the sole focus of the book. And why am I defending my reading material to you? It’s none of your business what I like to read.”

“You’re right. It’s not. I just thought it was interesting.” Although not as interesting as the fact that when she planted her hands on her hips she outlined a shapely hourglass figure.

I knew it.
Unfortunately, knowing didn’t lessen her allure but rather made it worse.

“If you’re done judging me, maybe I should ask what you’re doing in
my
room?”

He shrugged. “The hell if I know. I woke with this fucking zap collar just minutes before you got here. I haven’t talked to anyone yet.” Nor killed anyone. He was totally going soft. Here he was discoursing with a woman when he should be hunting for a way out.

The answer to his presence came from a speaker strung on a wire atop their cage. And look at that. There was a camera beside it! Someone was playing Peeping Tom.

He cranked his middle finger and smiled at the lens.

“That’s mature,” she muttered.

You ain’t seen nothing yet.

A synthesized voice emerged from the plastic speaker. “I see you’ve met your new roommate, my pet.”

Of all the degrading things to call a Lycan. “Don’t call me pet,” Brody growled, his fists clenched at his side.

The woman snorted. “Um, sorry to break it to you, Mr. World Revolves Him, but he’s talking to me. I’m”—she made a face—“his pet.”

“First off, while you are correct that the world does orbit around my greatness,” a world that barely slid by his modesty, “my actual name is—”

“Brody Johnson,” said the robotic voice from the speaker. “Retired soldier and currently second-in-command to Reid, alpha at Kodiak Point. During your military days, you served under Sergeant Carson. On your last mission, several years ago now, you were captured by insurgents during a routine area sweep. You spent the next eight months in captivity until your escape, where you killed the leader and burned down three-quarters of the camp. You managed to rescue at the same time, three others, Reid, Boris, and Kyle. Poor Gene, he got to spend another year in that place. No wonder he felt so abandoned.”

As the faceless voice recited pivotal parts of his life, a chill swept Brody. “Who is this? And how do you know so much about me?” Brody fought to keep his emotions in check, but the more he heard, the more he realized just how targeted the ambush of him was. Some of the information was classified. How the hell did the speaker find so much out?

“I know everything.”

Someone didn’t suffer from self-esteem issues. “Did you know I’m going to kill you?” Bluffing, one of the most powerful tools a man could sometimes wield.

Unless someone called it. A mechanical laughter did not reassure. “You are welcome to try. It wouldn’t be the first attempt. But I’ll warn you right now, death doesn’t want me.”

“Death wants everyone.” Especially if handed to the reaper by one determined wolf. “So who are you anyhow?” Gathering clues was the key to taking down an enemy.

“You may call me master.”

Forget holding in his snicker. “Good luck with that, buddy. I’m no one’s slave.”

“You say that now, but…” The voice trailed off. Not that Brody would have heard much as his teeth began to vibrate.

Thud.

The shock of the collar blasted through him, and he writhed like a worm on hot pavement. So much for keeping better control the second time.

When the current cut off, he took a moment to clear his senses.

Bait made a tsking sound. “You really shouldn’t antagonize him.”

“No kidding. He must really have a small dick to need a—”

Ouch! Brody could practically feel his hair stand on end with the newest round, and was that a burning smell? At least this time, he managed, if barely, to keep his eyes open and thus saw as Bait tossed her hair back and glared defiantly at the camera.

Oh god, she wasn’t going to beg for mercy, was she? His man card would get revoked for sure.

No, she had more pressing concerns than his possible demise by electrocution. “If you’re going to kill him, could you please do it somewhere else? And where’s my chocolate?”

Her request didn’t exactly make him feel all warm and fuzzy, but it did give him the oomph needed to say, “Thanks for your sympathy. You have no idea how this hurts.”

“Don’t I?”

She grabbed her hair in a fist and, with her free hand, yanked at the neckline of her gown to show a collar ringing her neck, a twin to his own.

No wonder she behaved. If he could barely keep from screaming at the pain, how must it be for her?

He shook his head in disbelief. “Dude isn’t just small-dicked. He’s so weak he tortures women, too.”

Bad news. Little dick flipped on the juice. Good news, Brody was starting to get used to the shock. Kind of. His tongue no longer flopped out of his mouth.

When he’d stopped doing the jiggle, he opened his eyes to see a concerned mauve gaze hovering over him. “Stings, eh?”

“Just a little,” he said with a grimace as he rose from his ignoble kneeling position.

Robot voice interrupted. “How nice to see you both bonding. It will make the reason I’ve brought you together easier. Pet, meet the man who will father upon you a child.”

Brody had barely digested the words before she was yelling. “Oh, hell no. You will not whore me out. Remember what happened to the last men you sent to try. I hear they never did find all the body parts.”

Say what? Brody sought to connect all the dots, but the picture that emerged as the conversation unfolded didn’t result in anything pleasant.

“Those previous attempts were mistakes. I sent in minions to do the job of a warrior. You won’t find this man so easy to break.”

“Don’t count on it,” she muttered. “If it didn’t work with them, don’t think for one second it will happen with him. I won’t have sex with him.”

Funny how she denied the faceless one’s demand, and yet Brody could hear her racing heart, sense the flush on her skin. It seemed the idea of fucking him wasn’t entirely without appeal, despite her more than vehement claim to the contrary.

Speaking of which, did she have to be so vehement?

I’m a good-looking guy. Most women would jump at the chance to pounce my bones.

“You say that, and yet both know you will, in the end, do as you’re told. You should thank me, pet, for my choice. You see, Brody isn’t like the others I sent to you. I chose him specially because of his strength.”

“I won’t let him rape me.”

Excuse me?
Brody held out his hands in a timeout gesture. “Slow down there, sweetheart. Who said anything about forcing you? I would never do that.”

“You say that now.” She stared pointedly at his collar.

He frowned. The woman thought a little pain would get him to do something so vile? She’d soon learn. Brody wasn’t one to cave to torture.

But she might.

Brody knew the moment a zap was sent to her collar. Her eyes widened, and he could practically feel the zing of electricity. Yet she didn’t utter a sound. Nor did she drop to her knees. Or do anything at all to show she was being electrocuted.

He must have her on a lower setting.

But still, it had to smart. When it ended, her eyes took on a dark glow, a simmering storm that radiated from every tense muscle in her body. Totally hot.

Mr. Roboto wasn’t quite done yapping. “Think upon it, pet. Then act. You know, in the end, you will do as I wish. What other choice do you have?”

“You might think you control my choices, but I’ll find a way to thwart you,” she muttered darkly.

“You can try. But as you have all the other times, you’ll fail.” With those parting words, the speaker went silent, even the static of the open mike ceasing. But Brody remained all too aware of the watching camera.

What an interesting conversation, which, if he took at face value, made her a prisoner of this dude with visions of grandeur. He also had a reason as to why they’d chosen him, so he could play stud.

Seriously?
In this day and age of sperm banks, why go through the trouble of kidnapping someone for sex?

Not just anyone though, a wolf.
So maybe not so farfetched after all. And really, could anyone dispute the choice? Brody was, after all, a fine male specimen.

One who liked to live dangerously. “So,
pet,
is this where you burst into tears and beg me to take you so we don’t get punished?”

“You pig.”

“It’s wolf, pet.”

His breath emerged in an oomph as she slugged him in the gut. Bait might possess a soft body, but she knew just where to hit a man.

“What was that for?” he exclaimed.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that,” she practically shouted. Her lips pursed. “It’s what
he
calls me. But I have a name. It’s Layla. L-a-y-la.” She enunciated each letter slowly.

I think I just got told.
He didn’t apologize, but he did offer an olive branch. “I’m Brody.”

She rolled her eyes. “I already know.”

“Yeah, but that was douchebag introducing us. Now I’m doing it. Truce?” He held out his hand, sincere in his offer. Until he knew what was going on, she remained his best bet at getting answers and maybe even discovering the key to his escape.

And Sarge always taught us to keep our enemies close.

Without warning, the lights went out.

“What now?” he asked.

“Our cue to go to bed.”

“But we just got up.”

“Maybe you did, but I didn’t. I got to enjoy a three-hour snowmobile ride. Then eight hours in the back of a truck with you snoring.”

“I do not snore.”

“Then there is something seriously wrong with you.”

“You know, Bait, for a woman who’s expected to bed me, you’re not being very nice.”

“And you’re supposed to be strong. I’d say we’re both disappointed.”

She might not see it in the dark, but yeah, his jaw dropped. What a mouthy woman. “Are you always this rude?”

“Only when inspired. Listen. I’m sure you’re a very nice guy on the outside. But in here, with me, you’re just another problem I need to worry about.”

“I’m not sure I appreciate your implication.”

“I’m sorry, imply? Let me clear that up for you. I. Do. Not. Trust. You. And it’s nothing you’ve done, but escape thirty-six taught me to never put my faith in anyone else. Actually escape twenty-one did too, but thirty-six is the one that really hurt.”

He zeroed in on an interesting clue. “Escape thirty-six?”

“Yes. You noted earlier that I didn’t seem to fight my fate. I did in the past. But, after a while, especially when you constantly fail, you learn which battles to wage and which to ignore. With you, no matter the act you put on, I can’t for a minute believe it. It wouldn’t be the first time
he
tried to fool me.”

Or was she pulling one over Brody? Was this a case of double misdirection? By pretending she didn’t trust him, did she think he’d think he could trust her? Good grief, say that aloud fast, five times.

“Believe what you will, but I’m not working for your dude. Nor do I harm women.”

“All right then. Good night.”

“Good night? You’re going to sleep?”

“Yes and so should you. Who knows what we’ll have to deal with tomorrow.”

“I’m not sleeping.” As if. He’d stay crouched where he was, thank you very much. A soldier never let the enemy take him by surprise.

“Whatever. You’ll regret it in the morning.”

He heard the rustle of blankets as she settled herself. Quiet descended except for the occasional pipe rattling as a toilet flushed or water ran upstairs. There were pops and creaks of a house settling. The skitter of little feet?

The idea of creeping rats, filthy things, made him eye the darkness with suspicion. It also made him blurt, “I know why you want me to sleep so bad.”

“Yes. I have a horrible ulterior motive. It’s called seeing you rested.”

“Ha. You want me to sleep so that you can use your power to call some of your furry minions.”

“Minions? I like that. It’s got a certain ring.”

“So you don’t deny it?”

“Deny what?”

“The fact you’re planning to use your minions.”

“Let’s say, I’m biting, what am I having these furry minions do exactly?”

Given Brody spent a lot of time in prisons, not all of them with safety standards, he’d seen first-hand the disturbing kind of damage rodents could inflict. “Do? I don’t know. Chew my face off. Sever an artery.”

“Ooh, gouge the eyeballs from your head.” She laughed. “Or, or, I know, how about they climb into your mouth and then claw their way through your stomach?”

She couldn’t do that, could she? He clamped his lips tight and grimaced. “Now you’re just being gross.”

“Nope, I’m mocking you because you’re an idiot.”

This conversation was not going at all how planned. She was supposed to answer his questions, not ridicule him. He tried to veer this conversation back on track. “Are you denying you could make them do it?”

“No, but I wouldn’t waste rats, or any other animals I could call, on you.”

“Why? Am I not good enough?” He said it and then realized how it sounded.

“You’re not worth the effort or waste of resource. I mean, you’re stuck in here with me. Why kill you when I could use those minions to kill the guards?”

“You can do that with rats?”

“A second ago you were convinced I could.”

Well, only half seriously. After all, come on, he was a wolf, like he’d let some rodents take him out. “If you can do it, then prove it.”