Changing Hearts (24 page)

She’d only gone two steps when the hair on the back of her neck prickled. She halted briefly realizing she’d left the shotgun propped beside the back door then shook her unease off.
I’m only going to be a minute. I’ll be back inside before anything can happen.

Giving herself that mental pep talk, she strode toward the shed. Joie opened the door and took some time tending to the animals. Sure the fox would be ready to be released soon, she hummed as she reached in to close the door. Movement off to the side of the shed caused her to jump.

“Foolish! Just go back inside and finish supper.” The sound of her own voice bolstered her courage and she stepped out into the yard.

Strong arms came around her, one across her middle, and one over her mouth. Joie kicked out, trying to nail whoever had her in the shins but he picked her up. “Shit! She kicked me.”

The male voice came out of the darkness, deep and unfamiliar. Joie struggled harder, digging her nails into his arms as best she could, hoping he’d drop her.
Oh God, Malcolm!

A man stepped in front of her and Joie stilled suddenly. He was naked and she knew right away that he was a shapeshifter like Malcolm. He had the same otherworldly air about him that Malcolm did.

This man bent forward slightly and sniffed her. She stiffened and started to struggle again as his face pressed into her abdomen.

“Uh, Frank? We’ve got a complication here.”

“Stop struggling!” The command was punctuated by a squeeze that nearly caused her to black out. Joie tried frantically to draw air in through her nose. “What complication?”

“The little bitch is pregnant.” The second man’s words reached her and Joie did faint.

“Shit.” Frank shifted his grip on her, realizing right away that she’d passed out. “Let’s just get her back to the compound. We’ll figure out what to do later.”

Slice nodded then led the way back to where they’d left the car. He and Frank tied the woman up and put her in the backseat. They weren’t rough with her, but they weren’t exactly gentle either.

Frank pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt while Slice opted for a pair of cutoffs. They got into the front seat and headed quickly back to New Orleans, their captive bound on the backseat.

* * * * *

Slade had done his best to hurry the old woman along. He had become increasingly nervous about being away from Joie for so long. Kay caught his mood, finally, and got into the car. He held to a steady seventy miles per hour on the way back in spite of the gasps coming from the passenger seat.

As soon as he pulled into the yard he knew something was wrong. Not only was the back door open, but the door to the shed was ajar. Slade slammed the car in park and jumped out, striding across the yard before the old woman had even unfastened her seat belt.

He stopped dead in his tracks when the scent hit him. “Shit, shit, shit. Joie!” He bellowed her name, praying his nose lied to him. “Joie!” His voice more frantic, Slade raced into the shed, stopping when he realized it was totally empty except for the animals in their cages.

Back into the yard, then into the house where the old woman stood, staring at the counter. Slade saw the beginning of their meal then saw the shotgun propped against the doorframe.

“Shit!” He yanked his clothes off frantically without saying anything else to the old woman. Shifting seemed to take twice as long and as soon as his transformation was complete, he raced into the yard, nose to the ground.

Slice and Frank. Shit, it was them. They have Joie.
Slade’s brain processed the scents and provided its own gruesome scenario.
New Orleans, they’ve taken her to the compound. Maggie! Fuck!

Slade shifted quickly back to human, ran back into the house and grabbed a piece of paper. He hurriedly wrote a series of numbers on the paper then shoved it at the old woman.

“They’ve taken Joie. I’m going to get her back but I probably won’t be able to come back with her. Take this. If I don’t come back, call this phone number and give whoever answers this code number. There’s enough money in that account to take care of the two of you for the rest of your lives.” He pulled his jeans on, fastening them quickly, then slipped his shoes back on.

“You just get my girl back, boy. You just get her back.”

To his horror, the old woman crumpled into a chair at the table, crying. He didn’t know what to do to comfort her and didn’t have time to do it anyway. Slade gripped her shoulder until she looked at him, tears tracking down her face.

“I’ll get her back.” He ran into the bedroom, grabbing his leather jacket and the keys to his bike. In moments he’d hit the road for New Orleans. The scent trail hadn’t been that old, they were only about an hour ahead of him.

He’d have to find someone to help him, though, and that would take some time. Prayer had never been a friend of his, but he heard himself saying, “Please, please, please,” as he throttled the bike as high as it would go, fishtailing out onto the main road and leaning forward over the handlebars.

* * * * *

Joie sat up in the back of the car, studying the two men in the front seat. One man, the driver, looked clean-cut, more like a cop than anything else. The other had hair as long as Malcolm’s had been before she’d cut it and what she could see of his upper torso was covered in tattoos.

The second man glanced into the backseat and grinned at her. “Welcome back. What’s your name?”

“Joie Landry. What’s yours?”

“You can call me Slice. He’s Frank. You know who we are, don’t you?”

“Yes. You’re members of Malcolm’s Pack.”

“Malcolm?” Both men laughed sending shivers up and down her spine. “Imagine that. Malcolm.”

“Where are we going?”

“Well, we wanted to make sure Slade came back to the compound so you’re our insurance policy. The baby is an unexpected bonus.”

“What do you mean?” She couldn’t have heard that right. How could they know what she’d just begun to suspect?

“Our former fearless leader knocked you up, sweetheart. You’re pregnant. Aren’t you worried you might have puppies?” The man called Slice laughed at his own joke though she didn’t see the humor.

“How do you know I’m pregnant?”

“I can smell it. Some of us have more sensitive noses than others.” He turned his attention back to the road as they swept onto a tree-lined drive. “Welcome to the compound, Joie.”

She glanced around curiously. This was what Malcolm had left behind. They passed through a wrought iron gate as they continued down the drive. A huge yard spread on both sides of the drive with trees dotting the landscape.

She gasped as a group of dogs broke out of a wooded area to the right.
No, not dogs, wolves. Oh Lord, the Pack.
There must have been twenty of them running silently alongside the car.

They were all colors, all sizes and they had no trouble keeping up with the car though from the brief glance she’d had of the speedometer, it was traveling about thirty miles per hour.

When Frank pulled the car to a stop, the wolves milled about until Slice stepped out of the car and opened the back door. He dragged her out as Frank joined them. The Pack became eerily silent as they formed a semicircle around the trio standing in the circular drive.

She couldn’t help the shiver that raced across her skin. All these wolves, people, whatever, staring at her. They never moved and again it reminded her of the fear and fascination the deer must feel when confronted with a predator. She felt that if she moved, even in the slightest, they’d attack en masse.

The wolves around her varied in size and color, some of them with dark coats, some almost white. Their eyes were different colors as well, but they all had that luminous quality she’d seen in Malcolm’s eyes when he had been in wolf form.

Joie looked up as the massive front doors of the Georgian-style home opened. A shadow fell across the doorway then Maggie stepped through.

There wasn’t any sign she’d been in a fight with Malcolm just four days before. Her black tank top and miniskirt barely covered her. Joie noticed her feet were bare as she started down the steps toward them.

Pulling herself to her full height, Joie refused to give in to the fear pulsing through her. The two men at her sides chuckled slightly, letting her know they weren’t fooled at all by her bravado.

“Well, well, well. We meet again. Welcome to the compound.” Maggie gestured expansively as though welcoming an honored guest to her home. Joie knew she couldn’t be the only one to hear the contempt in the other woman’s voice.

“Maggie, there’s something you should know.” Slice took a half-step forward, stopping only when Maggie glared at him.

“What?”

“She’s pregnant.”

It was Joie’s turn to glare as Maggie halted in stunned silence.

“She’s not just pregnant. He’s marked her.” Maggie’s hand gripped her chin, forcing her head to the side so the two men and the wolves around them could see the mark Malcolm had left on her neck. A strange sound moved through the wolves around her. That more than anything brought more chills to her skin.

Maggie released her chin then backhanded her. Joie cried out as she crumpled to her knees. Frank stepped between the two women.
Why Maggie was so mad about her being marked?

“Easy, Maggie. We want her in one piece when he gets here. We left enough scent for him to track but we need to be ready for him.”

Maggie glared down at her and Joie glared right back.
How on earth had Malcolm ever become involved with that over-dyed overblown blonde?
Joie raised her chin, ignoring the blood from her split lip and struggled to her feet. It wasn’t easy with her hands tied behind her, and no one stepped forward to help her.

“Get her inside. Put her somewhere I don’t have to see her and keep her there until time for the challenge.” Maggie spat the words out then spun around and went back inside.

Slice took one of Joie’s arms and led her up the stairs into the house. She tried to look around but he moved too fast for her to see very much. Slice took her into a small room off the main hallway, pushed her inside then slammed the door. Joie heard the lock turn then glanced around.

The room seemed to be comfortably furnished though she wouldn’t be too comfortable with her hands still tied behind her back. She moved around the room, glancing at the pictures on the wall, noting the quality of the fabric and the thickness of the rug under her feet.

Finally, she sat on one of the couches to stare at the door. The coolness of the room indicated central air-conditioning and a chill raced down her spine as she stared at the closed and locked door.

“Malcolm, please hurry.” Her voice just a whisper in the otherwise silent room. Joie felt the tears gathering then licked her split lip. “Be careful, Malcolm, please be careful.”

* * * * *

Slade arrived in New Orleans less than an hour after leaving the cabin. He took side roads to avoid the heavy traffic around the Superdome then turned onto a side street. Weaving the bike through cars parked on both sides of the road, he searched for one particular vehicle.

There! Thank God.
He pulled the bike over to the sidewalk and turned it off. It annoyed him that his hands were shaking so he took a deep breath, reaching for the control he would need through the next few hours.

Slade got off the bike and started toward a private garden. There was an intercom on the gate and he pressed the buzzer until an irate voice came through the speaker.

“Who’s there?”

“Slade. I need to see Micah.” Total silence greeted his statement, then the gate buzzed to admit him. Before he’d taken two steps into the enclosed garden, four men poured out of the house, two of them with pistols pointed at him. Slade held his hands out to the sides and stopped.

“I’m not armed.”

“You’ve got one hell of a nerve coming here.” One of the men spoke, his accent giving away the fact that he was a native of the Crescent City.

“Easy.” Micah’s calm voice washed over all of them as he stepped forward, putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I’ll hear what he has to say. Go back inside. You’ll know if I need you.”

“You keep this. I don’t trust that bastard any farther than I could toss this house.” The man who had spoken first handed Micah his pistol then led the procession back into the house.

Micah put the pistol down on a wrought iron table then faced him again. He crossed his arms over his chest as he tilted his head to one side. “What do you want, Slade?”

“The Pack has taken Joie. I want your help.” Slade took one step forward with his hands still out at his sides, then stopped. He couldn’t read Micah’s face, couldn’t tell what the other man thought.

“You want
my
help?” Micah simply stood there. Slade felt an unfamiliar emotion rising. Fear. If Micah didn’t agree to help him, help Joie, she could die. He broke out in a cold sweat then swallowed hard.

“I… I need…” he paused, licked his lips and then did something he didn’t think he’d ever do. Slade went down on his knees, his hands still out to the sides. “I need your help. I’m going back to face the Pack but I don’t want them to hurt Joie. I need you there. You’re the only one who can protect her from Maggie, from the rest of the Pack. Please.” The last word left his throat on an anguished cry.

Micah stared hard at him then nodded. He relaxed his stance slightly, pushing his hands into his front pockets. “If I do this thing for you, if I protect your mate, what will you do if you win the fight?”

“I won’t.” Slade got to his feet, his pride reasserting itself, even now. “I won’t win. If you’ll protect Joie, make sure she gets out alive and unharmed, I’ll go belly up.”

“You’ll purposely lose the fight? That means they can kill you.” Micah trailed one hand over the gun as though he’d finish the job for them here and now. Slade swallowed hard as he stared at Micah.

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Joie is safe.”

“If they let you live, you’ll leave New Orleans? You’ll renounce the Pack?” Micah’s eyes seemed to bore into his skull, reading the truth of what he said.