“We are not going to have this conversation.” Relieved she didn’t have to work, Beth headed home. It’d be nice to go back to her place and hold onto the giddy feelings still rushing through her for a little while longer. Reality could wait until tomorrow.
“Alright, fine.” Marianne acquiesced. Then, in a tone far kinder and more considerate than Beth thought her capable of, she asked, “Did you have a good night?”
Beth heard the Are you okay? Are you happy?
“Last night was…” Beth searched for a word to encompass everything she felt. “It was…” Amazing? Wonderful? No singled word described the incredible high she was riding, so she settled on saying, “It was good.”
“Good? What do you mean good?”
“I don’t know what to say, Marianne. We had… fun.” Talking to Marianne about her sex life felt more like talking to a parent than a friend.
Weird. Very weird.
“Ah. You mean good,” Marianne teased. “I guess that’ll do for now. So long as you’re happy, sweetie.”
Sometimes the warmth and understanding Marianne and Angie directed toward Beth dazzled her. What genuine friends. That thought, coupled with the lingering warmth of her time with Braden kept her soaring through rush hour traffic.
Twenty minutes later, Beth climbed the steps to her apartment, looking forward to a long bath and a slow morning. Maybe she’d surprise Braden with lunch at his office. Or would that be presumptuous? They’d slept together. Did that mean anything? They’d never really talked about it. Maybe she should call first, see if he wanted to grab lunch? Her thoughts occupied, she didn’t notice anything was wrong until she put her hand on the doorknob and the door creaked open.
Beth didn’t move. Her mind slammed into focus. Every instinct she had fired the same message simultaneously.
Run!
As she willed her fingers to let go, the door burst open, tugging her across the threshold, a hand, heavy and strong, clamped down on her shoulder, throwing her inside, the door slamming behind her.
Cold fear coursed through her.
Markko.
All of her nightmares coalesced into reality.
A wave of adrenaline, so brutal it was nauseating, crashed through her.
Fine.
Use the adrenaline. Fight the panic.
Get out of the situation.
“Been a long time.” Markko stalked forward. “I hadn’t planned to see you quite so soon, but I had to rid myself of an unexpected nuisance last night.” A cruel sneer twisted his face. He blocked the only exit, and he knew it. “Let’s get reacquainted.”
Consider your options. Front door’s blocked.
Bedroom window. Beth turned, lunging for the door to her bedroom as Markko leaped, catching her around the legs and driving her into the floor. She hit the ground hard, the skin of her palms flared hot and painful against the carpet, and the contents of her purse spilled across the floor.
Focus.
Get to the purse.
Beth kicked back viciously at Markko’s face and shoulders as she stretched for her purse, fingertips brushing the handle. The pepper spray she always carried was just out of reach.
Just as her fingers brushed the straps of her bag Markko got a solid hold on her left calf and wrenched her toward him. Twisting, Beth glanced over her shoulder and smashed her foot with all the force she had into his face. Bones crunched beneath her shoe, his grip loosened and he howled in pain.
Now.
Move.
Beth pushed her knees beneath her and dove for her purse, fingers closing around the cold cylinder of the pepper spray.
“Bitch!” The words slurred out through wet, raspy breathing.
Fumbling with the safety latch on the spray, Beth struggled to her feet. Why do they make these things so damn hard to use? While focusing on getting the safety latch to open, she was unprepared for Markko, who grabbed her by the hair and jerked her back against him.
“You bitch, you broke my nose.”
Warm blood smeared across her skin where he’d spoken against her ear. Disgusted, she tried to drive her head back into his face.
Ducking his head to the side, Markko pulled her tighter against him, his arm snaking around her throat. Bordering on hysterical, Beth gripped the can of pepper spray in her fingers and stabbed it into his face, hoping to catch an eye. The blow glanced off and cut him high across the cheek, impacting bone and breaking the safety clasp.
Markko grunted and relaxed his grip enough for Beth to move. She plowed her elbow into the animal behind her, broke loose and lunged forward. When Markko made another grab for her, Beth turned and fired the spray directly at him.
A cloud of pepper spray erupted into his face and billowed out, burning her eyes and tearing at her lungs.
Go.
Beth stumbled past Markko as he slumped to the floor, choking and tearing at his eyes.
Get to the door.
Keep moving.
Beth repeated the mantra as she tore through the door, tears running down her face, muscles shaking with fear and adrenaline. Half blind and panicked she took the stairs too fast, her foot catching a loose board halfway down and pitching her body into open air.
The last half of the staircase beat the air from her lungs before she stopped against the side of the house. Beth fought the darkness clouding her vision and the searing pain in her side and forced herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the side of the house.
No time.
Move.
She blinked the tears out of her eyes and stumbled.
Get to the street.
Get help.
Vision still hazy, she plowed around the corner, straight into something huge and solid. Large hands wrapped around her shoulders, steadying her and keeping her on her feet.
“Beth?” Braden’s voice, warm and concerned, shot a spike of fear straight through her.
What is he doing here?
Frantic, Beth tried to pull away from him.
“You have to go!” Desperation tore the words from her throat. She had to get him back to the car. Markko would be down the steps any minute. God only knew what he’d do to Braden. Brushing his arms away from her, she pushed against his chest. “We have to go, now!”
“Jesus, you’re bleeding.” He tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her closer, fingers carefully prodding the blood on the side of her face.
“It’s not mine.” Beth yanked her arm from his grip and tried to pull him toward his car. “We have to go.”
“Damn it, Beth. Talk to me!” He planted his feet and pulled her back around.
“Shit! Braden, behind you!” A guy from Braden’s car screamed the warning.
Too late. Markko stood behind them, face bleeding and eyes streaming, anger radiating off him in waves. As he sucked fresh air, he raked his gaze from Beth to Braden, brutality twisting his face.
“Edwards!”
The shift happened faster than Beth thought possible. In the time it took for Braden to pull her toward him, Markko had transformed and lunged, ears back and jaws snapping.
Beth braced for the full impact of the charging wolf. Instead, Braden shoved her away from him, her feet leaving the ground before she slammed into the asphalt, the impact sending pain surging up her arms. She twisted around in time to watch Braden take the full impact of a snarling Markko and go down hard on his back, Markko snapping at his neck. Before she could move, Braden pulled his legs up to his chest and launched the wolf across the driveway.
Beth pushed herself to her hands and feet. Braden was still on the ground, unmoving, unprotected.
Get to him.
Get to the car.
Terrified Markko had seriously injured him before he’d had the chance to throw him off, Beth steeled herself and glanced back.
Disbelief hit her with the force of a blow and acid raced up her throat. She’d expected the worst—a torn and bloodied throat. Glassy eyes that stared at her unseeing.
Instead, Braden pushed himself to a crouch and leaped forward, shifting from man to wolf, shattering the world around her. He hit the pavement on four paws, hackles raised, head bent toward Markko.
Please, no.
Not this. Never this.
Beth’s heart slammed against her ribs and her pulse pounded in her ears. The world around her smeared out of focus as the first agonizing pains of the shift ravaged her body.
No!
Focus! Stall the change.
Beth counted backward from ten, focusing on pulling air in through her nose and pushing it back out through her mouth. She’d never shifted forms outside of the lunar cycle before and she’d never had any success fighting the change. But now, palms pressed to the gravel driveway, back arched in pain, she threw every ounce of strength she had behind keeping her human form. Saliva pooled in her mouth and her fingers curled into the asphalt beneath her, scraping her knuckles.
She choked on a sob, as the skin along her spine pulled taut, a thousand needle pricks raced down her neck, across her shoulders then followed the length of her spine; everywhere the sensation raced, fur burst from her skin.
Fight it!
Agony stole a scream from her throat and forced it through her clenched teeth as tendons and ligaments suddenly constricted, pulling her legs taught and seizing her fingers into her palms.
The muscles along her arms rippled and pulled taut, dropping her closer to the ground. She couldn’t stop the change. Fighting it was only leaving her vulnerable.
Fine. Use it.
Shift. Try to run for it.
For the first time, Beth focused on the memories of her previous shifts—full moons she’d spent scared and alone in her apartment, memories she actively buried every month. She searched for how those changes had felt. Painful as they had been, they’d also been faster than this one.
Relax.
Let muscle memory take over.
Beth exhaled, reached for the familiarity of past shifts and tried to let go. Her body arched and her teeth ground together as her neck jerked beyond her control and finally the shift began. As her mind cleared and instinct took over, lightning struck her ribs.
Beth screamed—the sound that ripped from her throat half human agony and half suffering animal. Another punch of lightning hit her in her back. Time stopped. She collapsed to the ground, completely limp and barely conscious.
Tremors wracked her limbs and stunned silence filled her mind.
The change stopped. Her fingers shook involuntarily, but they were long and unclenched. The shift not only halted but completely reversed.
A thick hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked her up; she tried to push her feet beneath her, but her muscles refused to obey her commands. She felt herself start to slide toward the ground, but the man holding her hoisted her up and over his shoulder.
The position jarred her ribs, radiating pain through her chest with every step. She was momentarily relieved when she was dumped over the back of a car, the warm metal smooth against her clammy cheek. Rough hands grabbed her wrists, yanking them behind her back. A zipping sound cut the air and plastic ties cut sharply into her skin.
No!
Familiar panic clawed through her mind and sent her legs kicking out behind her. She’d been here before.
“No.” She struggled against the plea, shame clogging her throat. “Please, no.”
She was jerked back to her feet and the trunk of the car sprang open.
“No!” She forced her feet up against the bumper of the car, shoving away from the trunk with all of her remaining strength. The second her feet left the bumper, arms snatched her legs, forcing her into the trunk.
The last thing she saw, before the trunk came down, plunging her into darkness, was Braden’s cold, unflinching gaze.
Chapter Ten
Breathe.
Don’t panic.
Beth struggled against the oppressive darkness. The sharp slam of the trunk still rang in her ears and, as the engine fired and the car moved out of the driveway, the past rushed up, clawed into her mind and pulled her under.
Two Years Ago…
Liz jerked awake as the van made a sharp right turn, the momentum rolling her on top of her bound hands. She bit her lip against the pain and tried to quietly adjust her body to take the pressure off her arms. She’d worked desperately to slip her wrists out of the zip ties the men had used to bind her hands behind her back. Hours later, she was still bound, the skin around her wrists raw and sticky with blood. Every time the van bounced, her weight shifted back on her arms and pain radiated from her wrists up through her shoulders.
Liz rolled onto her stomach, taking the pressure off her arms as the van continued to bounce. She tried to gain her bearings. Dim light filtered into the back of the van; dawn was approaching. What time had they been grabbed? Two in the morning, a little later? That meant they’d been traveling three or four hours at least, possibly more. God only knew where they were being taken. Not into civilization, Liz guessed. If the way the van bounced and pitched was any indication, the smooth blacktop of the highway was far behind them. Did that mean they were closer to their destination? Closer to death?
Liz fought against the panic clawing up her throat.
Stay calm.
You can’t afford to panic.
If she and Rachel were going to have any chance at survival, she had to keep a cool head. Keeping Rachel from falling apart would be challenge enough. More light filtered into the back of the van, the darkness receding into gray, revealing the outline of Rachel. She had her cheek pushed against the floor of the van, some of her long blond hair spilling over her shoulder and around her face. Between the alcohol and the terror, it hadn’t taken long for Rachel to sob herself into an exhausted sleep, abandoning Liz to deal with the harsh reality of their situation. Hopefully, Rachel would sleep through a little more of the van’s rough bouncing; the longer she slept off the alcohol and remained unaware, the better.
Liz jumped, every muscle in her body tensing. The hiss and crackle of a radio filled the van, and a deep voice fired off a barrage of what sounded like Russian. The driver picked up the radio and responded. Their kidnappers hadn’t said much in the last several hours but none of it had been in English. Frustration ate at Liz’s nerves. She knew they were in trouble. Still, she’d rather know what they faced, get the panic out of the way and move on to figuring out how to deal with the situation.
“Lizzy?” Rachel’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Shh,” Liz whispered. “It’s okay.”
Rachel blinked slowly, glancing around the van. She found Liz’s face in the darkness, fresh tears welling in her swollen eyes. Her breathing hitched.
“Oh God,” Rachel sobbed, struggling against the ties on her wrists.
Liz moved, aching to reach for Rachel, frustrated as her wrists pulled against the ties. Instead, she scooted across the space between them and pushed her forehead against Rachel’s.
“Rachel… Rachel, look at me.”
Rachel kept her eyes pressed firmly shut but stopped struggling.
Good enough.
“It’s okay. We’re okay. Try to stay calm.”
“Calm?” Rachel stuttered with hysteria. “Calm? I can’t, Lizzy. We’re, oh God, we’re…” She trailed off, words strangled by a fresh wave of sobs.
“In trouble?” Liz reached for all the levity she possessed. The humor she pushed into the words snapped Rachel’s eyes open.
“Well, yeah,” she said incredulously.
“Like we’ve never been in trouble before?” Liz kept eye contact and forced her lips to curl up. “I mean really, Rach. Have you forgotten that spring break in Mexico? That was trouble.”
Rachel choked against a laugh.
I’ll take it. Anything is better than the sobbing.
“That worked out, right?”
“Yeah.” Rachel sniffed through a watery nose and pressed her head against Liz’s shoulder.
?
??Right. So we stick together and we don’t panic. Okay?”
Silence fell between them and, for a moment, Liz was afraid that Rachel was going to slide back into hysteria. Instead, Rachel took a deep breath beside her and murmured, “Okay.”
“Good. And Rach?”
“Yeah?”
“You better not be snotting all over my shoulder.”
“You could use new clothes.”
“True. But this is your sweater, remember?”
They shared a secret smile as the van rumbled to a stop. The two men in the front stepped out, slamming the doors behind them. Liz seized one last opportunity to bolster Rachel. “Remember, no matter what, we stick together. Don’t panic. Okay?” The side door squealed open and Liz bumped Rachel with her shoulder. “Okay?”
Clear eyes met hers and Rachel nodded. “Okay.”
A rough hand grabbed Liz’s bound wrists and dragged her out of the van. She barely managed to get her legs beneath her before she hit the ground. As she gained her feet, she heard Rachel being pulled out of the van behind her.
A rough shove propelled her forward. “Get moving.”
Liz stumbled forward into the morning air and felt a solid lump of despair settle at the bottom of her stomach. They’d driven into a small clearing, every side flanked by trees so tall they completely blocked the morning sun. There were no buildings, and even in the early quiet of the morning, Liz couldn’t hear any traffic to indicate a main road nearby.
We’re in the middle of nowhere.
There was another van parked parallel with the one they’d arrived in, and several other people were being hoisted out of the back and herded toward the clearing.
“That’s far enough.” Markko’s fingers dug into her arm until she stopped. Rachel stepped up next to her, pressing close to her side, glancing around with wide eyes. “Lizzy?”
“I don’t know. Stay close.”
Markko stood behind her and the guy from the street, the one Markko had addressed as Alek, stood behind Rachel. The young man Liz recognized from earlier that night and an unknown fourth made up the points of a rough square, boxing in several people Liz didn’t recognize. An older couple, probably in their mid-fifties, huddled together next to Rachel. The man pressed his eyes closed and leaned into the woman’s side, whispering into her ear. The woman tightened her hand around the man’s forearm, her wedding band glinting with the movement. How long had they been married? Would they see another anniversary?