Between Two Wolves (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Menage Werewolf Romance) Page 6

  Colt turned to me. “Big black wolf. Yeah, I think I've seen him before.”

  I stared at him, almost unable to look away. Blue eyes, black hair...

  “You've heard the stories, Red? The legend of Black Wolf Mountain...the rest of it, the territory to the north, all the wild stories.”

  I nodded, not looking away, unable to even if I wanted. But I didn't want to look away. It felt like I could look into those eyes for a long time...forever. If only.

  “So do you believe them, the stories you heard around the campfire?” Colt reached out, winding a strand of hair through his finger, tugging lightly. “You know, I could really fall in love with this hair.”

  “Obsessed much?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much. Is that a problem?”

  I shook my head, leaning toward Colt, following my strand of hair. His gaze slid down to my lips, a look so sexy I almost felt the caress of him against me. Swoon was never a word I'd have used to describe how I felt with a guy, before this. I closed my eyes, swooning. But his words tugged at me, and I stopped leaning forward, stopped swooning. He tugged on my hair, but I pulled back, the strand held taut between us. I opened my eyes.

  “Wait...stop distracting me. You asked if I believed in the stories. What stories?”

  “Red...Risha...there's something you should probably know about me, and Jericho. Something that might change how you think about us.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Married? Girlfriends? I thought we covered all that.

  He let go of my hair, watching it as it fell against my shoulder. “It's not what you think...none of that.”

  The instant his eyes met mine I knew it, in my heart, in my soul, in every cell in my body. I went cold, then hot, then felt that swooning feeling again. Only it was more sickening than sexy this time around.

  “You're the wolf.”

  He didn't answer, didn't have to. It was written clear on his face. My heart took off like a racehorse out of the gate, and I dug my fingers into the sandy dirt under my hands. This was worse than a girlfriend, or a wife. Oh my fucking God.

  “It's okay, Red. Really. I'm not the big bad wolf of legend. Neither is Jericho.”

  That snapped me out of wherever my head had gone. “Jericho? He's a...thing like you?”

  “Don't say it like that. We're not things.” He actually sounded hurt. And I actually felt bad for...what? Insulting his heritage?

  “Then what are you?”

  “Right now, I'm just a guy. Like I was before, at the springs. Just a guy sitting around the fire, enjoying your company.”

  “Then who or what were you before? On the trail?”

  “That was also me. Only in wolf form. We call ourselves shifters. We can change shape. And in our case, it's from human to wolf, and back.”

  “Are you serious? This sounds crazy.” I could barely breathe, my head swirling in colors of black and grey, and I felt as though I might almost pass out.

  I looked closely at Colt, at the face of the man who I'd had sex with just a few hours earlier. I thought having sex with a stranger was way outside my comfort zone, but what he'd just told me pretty much blew all that right out of the water. My instincts kicked in, and I felt just like I did on the path. The urge to run was almost overwhelming. He was either telling the truth, or he was completely and absolutely insane. At the moment, either or both was just as chilling to think about.

  But this wasn't the wolf...or it was. But it was also Colt. And I happened to like Colt. I liked Colt very much. It was obvious the dynamic between us had changed; the light-hearted banter was gone. The sexual tension was still there, but it was overlaid with something a lot like fear.

  “Okay. So let's say I can suspend disbelief long enough. You're a wolf in human clothing?”

  He cracked half a smile. “You could say that. It's a little more complicated. There's a history with Jericho and me, and a back story that's a bit long in the tooth.” His smile widened. “Sorry. Couldn't resist the pun.”

  I managed something of a smile, I think. I wasn't sure. Most of me felt numb. “Why were you a wolf when I saw you?”

  “I wasn't sure who you were yet. Friend or foe. When I'm in wolf form, I see things differently. Literally. My senses are heightened—smell, hearing, sight. I get a better view of who I'm looking at. A more accurate view, in most cases.”

  Some of the tension seeped out of me, despite hearing Colt explain he was a wolf. Listening to him, hearing his voice, the calm way he was talking to me, somehow made it seem okay. Maybe even believable. Somehow, some way.

  “You're hypnotizing me, aren't you?” I made the effort to shift my gaze to the fire. “That's a thing you can do, right? I watch television, you know. I know how this works.”

  He laughed softly. “Red, if I was into mind control, my life would be a whole hell of a lot easier. And television usually gets it wrong. Vampires don't sparkle; shifters don't use mind control. At least not all the time.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Believe me, life as a shifter isn't easy. This has been one of the better days of late.”

  “Oh.” I wasn't sure if that included me, or something else. My mind was spinning, too many questions piling up, fighting to be the first one asked. But before I could pick the front-runner, Colt stood up.

  “Something's wrong. Jericho should be back by now.”

  Bewildered, I scrambled to my feet, tripping over the little pile of firewood. Colt was already on the other side of the fire, heading toward the gap where Jericho had gone.

  “What do I do?”

  “Stay here.” Colt turned back, face set in rigid lines. For a moment the wolf played over his face, the eyes glowing in the light of the fire, his hair catching the slight breeze.

  “But what...”

  A howl cut through the soft night air. The sound chilled me to the bone. I stepped backward, tripped over the big log, landing hard on my ass, the wind knocked out of me. Colt stopped, half turned toward me, half turned toward the forest. If he saw what was coming out of the forest almost on top of him, he never flinched.

  All I saw was a ball of gray fur wrapped around what looked like a big rag doll. I screamed and struggled to sit up, to catch my breath, to get my bearings. For a moment everything was obscured by the fire, the figures blurred, red-tinged. I finally got to my feet, and what I saw wasn't any less chilling from that vantage point.

  The figures separated, the rag doll taking the shape of the nameless ranger. The gray fur resolved into another wolf. From the way Colt swung around, teeth bared at the ranger, eyes narrowed, I knew this wolf wasn't just any wolf. This was Jericho.

  The ranger and Jericho faced off briefly on either side of the fire. Jericho snarled, exposing brilliant white fangs, advancing stiff-legged around the flames. The ranger crouched, moving in the opposite direction, keeping the fire between them. There were rips and tears in his khaki uniform, some of them edged with blood. Colt looked strangely hesitant, poised halfway between Jericho, the ranger, and me.

  I realized, a split second too late that the ranger and I were on a collision course. He realized it a split second before I did. I went left, he went right, but I couldn’t avoid him. He slung an arm around my neck, pulling me against him.

  He smelled awful, not just of dirt and sweat, but of something rotten. I wondered vaguely if he was some kind of shifter as well. But it was getting hard to breathe, and the world was going gray and fuzzy. I struggled, but the man was much stronger than I was. Struggling just got harder and harder, so finally I gave up, concentrating on breathing. And even that was getting harder by the second.

  “Let her go, Weatherly. She's not the one you came for.”

  “Yeah. But she's the one I've got.” Ranger Weatherly jerked me upright so hard my feet left the ground. That just made everything worse, made breathing next to impossible. I went limp, not by choice, but because I had no choice.

  “Back off. And call off your dog, Colt. You know what I want, why I'm here. And if I can't have you,
then I'll take this one. You know I can snap her neck in a heartbeat.” Something cold tickled the skin below my jaw. Colt's eyes narrowed and Jericho whined. I guessed Weatherly had added a knife to the mix to back up his promise to break my neck.

  The world was really going black now, the ranger's voice getting faint. My head fell to the side, and through half-closed eyes I saw Colt on the other side of the fire. Jericho stood by his side. Their expressions were identical, anger mixed with fear, mixed with confusion. Those weren't looks that instilled confidence in me.

  But I couldn't blame them, didn't blame them. I tried to tell them that, tried to talk, tried to send telepathic messages. I was leaving the conscious world and the last thing I wanted them to feel was responsible. Silly thought...

  Chapter Five

  I jerked awake. My neck hurt and I tried to lie still until the zings of pain in my body stopped, not sure what, if anything, was broken. I tried to open my eyes, then realized they were open, but I couldn't see. For a really long horrible moment I thought I'd died and this was purgatory, that I was stuck in a place where I was unable to see or hear or speak. But then I realized I wouldn't have this much pain if I were dead. Slowly bits and pieces came back to me: the fire, of Colt and Jericho —sex—the ranger. Weatherly. It occurred to me that I finally knew his name. I was on something more or less soft, and something was stuck in my mouth. So I was blindfolded, gagged, and lying on a smelly mattress. And I was alive.

  “Hey, you're awake.” The voice was close, sounding absurdly happy about the fact.

  I jerked again, another wave of pain shooting down my arms. My hands were tied behind my back, but I could wiggle my fingers. They worked. The pain meant I was alive, and that even if I was injured, I wasn't paralyzed. It might have been a small thing, but I was suddenly very happy to feel pain.

  But why Weatherly had me, and what he intended to do, that I wasn't very happy about.

  “Let's get better acquainted.”

  Hands touched me, my face, pulling my hair hard enough to make my eyes water. I grunted...I was pretty much over reveling in pain now. All I wanted was to see and to be able to sit up. The blindfold came off. I looked up at Weatherly.

  I wanted to laugh, which was impossible with the gag. Weatherly looked far worse for wear than I felt. Whatever happened before they tumbled into the clearing, Jericho had gotten in few good scratches and bites. Weatherly's uniform was shredded in places, the edges caked with dried blood, torn skin visible beneath a few of the bigger tears. And if he smelled bad before, he smelled even worse now. Sweat, old and new, dirt and blood. And I sensed the sharp tang of fear on him. Not a pleasant combination. But what the hell did he have to be afraid of? I was the one tied up and gagged, not him.

  Weatherly wrenched the gag out of my mouth, pulling my hair again, my scalp aching. I glared up at him, mustering up as much bravado as I could.

  “Listen…Weatherly…I don’t know what your game is, but I’m pretty sure Colt and Jericho aren’t going to just let you take me. They’re probably on their way here, right now.” At least I hoped they were. How much loyalty did an-almost stranger garner?

  “I’m sure they are. And that’s just fine by me. The more the merrier.”

  “What do you want with me?” The whole disjointed conversation by the fire, the part about Jericho and Colt - all that could wait. I wanted to know what my part in this was. And I wanted him talking, so I could find a way to get my hands free, or get him to untie me. I wanted to take a swing at him so bad I could taste it.

  “I don’t want you…or I didn’t. Until I saw you on the path. But then that damn wolf showed up.” He loomed over me for a minute, then must have decided it was awkward bending over to glare at me. Grabbing my shoulders, he yanked me upright. I had no balance, wavered from side to side. And then fell backward, my head hitting the wall. I closed my eyes as a new pain added itself to the mix.

  “The wolf showed up.” I heard a footstep and opened an eye, watching as Weatherly turned, pacing across the small room. It gave me a chance to look around. There wasn’t much to see. The room was bare, just the mattress I was sitting on, a few chairs sitting at random angles, a table shoved in the corner. All in all, not someone’s permanent residence. Probably a deserted rental cabin from the 50s, long forgotten, long-abandoned. Perfect place to keep a hostage.

  “The wolf showed up. The wolf I was after, one of them, anyway.”

  “So why bother with me?”

  Weatherly paced a few steps toward the door, twitching open the tattered curtain that hung on the window. He stared out into whatever was out there, whatever he could see in the dark. Then it struck me. He was a wolf…a shifter. He could see in the dark, just like Colt and Jericho. And that meant he could change, just like they could. And with him as a wolf, I didn’t stand a chance.

  I wiggled my hands, turning my wrists. The rope bit into my skin, burned like hell. But I thought there was some play in them. Maybe it was my imagination, but it was the only thing I had to hold on to right now.

  Weatherly moved to another window, looked out, then turned back to me. I froze, my wrists screaming in pain, my shoulders rotated at some unnatural angle. Something changed in the way he looked at me, something darker crossing his features.

  “You were going to be collateral damage, at first. Get you out of the way, nasty hiking accident. Didn’t matter if you knew what any of this meant. You just needed to go away. But then…you hooked up with those two. How the hell did that happen? I tracked them forever, and there’s never been a woman. But now, there’s you.”

  “I’d be happy to just bow out right now. No harm, no foul…”

  “Not so fast. Plans change.” He crossed the little room, almost standing on my feet. “I can use you.”

  He grabbed me again, pulling me upright. “Those guys used you. I can use you too.”

  I was pretty sure his idea of use wasn’t going to be anywhere as fun as what happened with Colt and Jericho. I struggled, trying to disguise my attempts at freedom with frantic wiggling. Something loosened in the ropes around my wrists, one loop slipping. Weatherly apparently wasn’t very good at knot tying.

  “Use me how?” Did I really want to know?

  “I can make you one of us, like me…” He leered at me, baring his teeth. They were the same brilliant white as Colt’s and Jericho’s, a little longer than normal, far sharper than any human teeth should be. I jerked back, trying to get away from him.

  “Bite you, mark you, make you mine. You’ll be mated to me, and I can have what they have.”

  Whatever he was saying was lost on me. I’d stopped paying attention after the mention of bite. I didn’t want to be bitten, not by Weatherly, or anyone else. My heart galloped wildly in my chest, and I struggled not to go into full-blown panic mode.

  Another loop of rope fell away, and for a surprised second I felt hope that I may actually stand a chance of getting away. Then I let fear replace exhilaration. It wasn’t hard. I heard Jack’s voice in my head, telling me to wait, look for my opening, to keep my eyes open. That I just needed to focus, to be patient.

  But Weatherly had other ideas. He pulled me against him, his big hand grabbing my hair. For an instant I wished I’d chopped all this hair off, given myself a buzz cut. That way men wouldn’t be able to yank me around by it.

  He pulled my head back, eyes drifting from my face to my neck. He smiled, if that’s what it could be called. My body had gone numb, limp, partly by design, mostly out of my control. The only thing really moving was my heart, thumping along at a dizzying pace.

  “It’s not going to hurt…” He was focused on my throat, his arm slackening against my back. Just stay cool…don’t telegraph…

  Weatherly dropped his head and I was out of options. I brought my knee up, aiming for his crotch. I hit his thigh instead, and it was like kneeing a tree. But it gave me an opening. I pulled against the hand holding my hair, setting my scalp on fire, and swung for the moon with my left. I hit h
im, hard, in the side of the head.

  The blow didn’t do much damage, but it did startle him. He took his arm away from me, but held on to my hair. I swung again, a wild right that whistled through the air past his face. I could hear Jack’s snort of disapproval in my mind. Waste of energy, throwing useless punches.

  “Knock it off, little girl. I’m not impressed with your little hissy fit. Just accept…” He pulled me up by my hair until I was standing on my toes. I sucked a breath through my teeth, trying really hard not to scream at the pain.

  “Not so tough now, are you?” He dragged me backward toward the mattress. “I think there’s a better way of doing this. Giving you swinging room is dangerous.”

  He pushed me down onto the mattress, following me, his big body covering mine, finally letting go of my hair. I hit him wherever I could, pounding his back, his shoulders. It was like punching stone. I wanted to scream, but he was crushing my chest with his, and getting air was getting harder.

  I brought my knee up again. This time I connected with something that brought a reaction from Weatherly. He grunted, his hands stopping in the middle of the act of tearing off my clothes. I tried again, but Weatherly reared back, slapping me across my mouth. I tasted blood, and for a horrible moment, everything went black.

  “You know, I like a fighter, but this is ridiculous. You’re being downgraded to collateral damage again.” Weatherly fumbled at his belt, and the cold sharpness at my throat snapped me back to reality.

  “I’ve been chasing these bastards long enough. They’re the last of their clans, and I’m the last of mine. They’ve taken everything from me, my land, my clan…and left me out in the cold. I’m tired, and I’m tired of you. You’re not worth making a mate; you’d be nothing but a thorn in my side.”

  He slid the knife against my throat, and for an instant I wondered if he was joking, or if this was just some weird sort of foreplay. But he pulled back, grinning, a terrible expression full of lust and hate, and so many clashing emotions that I had to look away. I tried to turn my head, and then I felt the warm rush of blood seeping from the place he’d cut me.