Deceived By the Others (11 page)

With a low growl, I answered him in the only way I could think of that wouldn’t hurt him more. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled myself up to kiss him, not letting him draw away when he jerked back. Digging my nails into his shoulders, I poured every ounce of anger and frustration and need into that moment, hungrily slanting my mouth over his. Before long, his hands were crushing me to him, an equal passion driving him to devour my kiss like he was starving for the taste of me.

We tugged and pulled at each other’s clothing, the wet grass sliding under my back and legs as my shirt and pants disappeared. One of the buttons on Chaz’s shirt popped off and plunked into the water, forgotten as skin met skin, the heat generated between us making it easy to forget the cold and the mud. His teeth grazed my skin as he kissed and licked his way from my cheek, down my neck, and settled to a light suckling on my nipple through the thin material of my bra.

My breath caught as his fingers, rough and calloused, brushed along my stomach and down between my legs. We’d done far more than this without a contract, but that was before I knew what he was. We shouldn’t have been doing this. He’d never hurt me—I knew he wouldn’t—but there were so many things that could go wrong if we ignored the law.

Sensing my hesitation, Chaz paused, regarding me with a mixture of lust and anger so intense a shiver of fear trickled down my spine.

“Do you want me to stop?”

His question meant more than what he was asking. If he stopped now, it would be the end of everything between us.

I shook my head, wrapping my legs around his waist and reaching up to tug his mouth back down to my breast in answer. Pressed as tightly against him as I was, I felt the shudder of something—maybe relief?—roll through him.

A gasp escaped me as first one, and then another finger explored me. Chaz shifted to cover my mouth with his, swallowing my cries as he swiftly worked me into a frenzy of desire. My nails dug into his back and shoulders, the pressure between my legs growing unbearable. Too soon, not soon enough, a shudder wracked me as my pleasure reached its peak.

He pulled away long enough to hear me cry out, both his hands sliding up to cup my cheeks, cradling my face as he pressed a few featherlight kisses on my brow. Chaz positioned himself even as the tremors leaving my thighs quaking tapered off, and I eagerly opened myself to him.

Suddenly, he stiffened—and not in the good way. He lifted his head, frowning as he levered himself up on his arms. Breathless, I stared at him, wondering why he had stopped.

A faint, strange sound echoed across the valley. Chaz hastily rose to his feet, slipping in the mud.

“Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait! Chaz, what is it?” I struggled to sit up, shivering as the wind bit against my wet skin. The loss of warmth was doing more to kill my desire than Chaz’s uneasiness and the abrupt halt to our “festivities.” I wrapped my arms around myself while he threw his clothes on, not bothering to take the time to button his shirt or put on his shoes.

“Someone’s hurt. I need to check it out.” He glanced down at me as he (carefully) zipped up, a wry smile not easing the strain of worry or frustration at the interruption from his features. “Being the pack leader’s a bitch sometimes.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said, reaching for my shirt. He shook his head.

“No, wait here. It could be dangerous. Let me make sure everything is okay. I’ll come back and get you when it’s safe.”

“Be careful,” I said, heart lodged in my throat as I watched him race along the path back to the cabins.

Chapter 10

Coitus interruptus
does not a happy camper make. I may have gotten my jollies, but I’d been expecting to do a lot more before Chaz and I were cut short. I sat in the meadow sulking for a few minutes, long enough to realize my back and legs were covered in mud and there was grass tangled in my hair.

Irritated beyond measure, I glanced around to make sure I was alone. Picking up my muddy clothes, I rose to rinse everything off, including myself, in the knee-deep water.

I don’t know how the frogs and fish could stand the cold. The goose bumps were so bad, I couldn’t tell right away if I’d gotten all the mud off my back when I reached to scrub. The cattail I’d picked earlier came in handy for that. Moments later, I screamed and rushed out of the water. A leech had latched onto my ankle, leaving me panting and cursing on the shore as I tore the little monster off.

Putting on my wet clothes was almost as bad as rinsing off in the water. I shivered on the stone bench for a while, but the cold from that seeped into my butt, too, and soon drove me to get up and pace. My socks and shoes were dry. Thank goodness for small favors. I braved the bench long enough to put them on, then stomped back toward the cabins. I needed a hot shower, coffee, and dry clothes. Maybe to get the fireplace going, too. Chaz may have been worried about danger, but I was more concerned with getting a Band-Aid for my leg and warming up.

As I was trudging along the path, carefully avoiding some poison oak I hadn’t noticed on the way earlier, something seemed different. It took a few minutes for me to put my finger on what was wrong.

The woods were unnaturally quiet again. Unnerved, I sped up my pace.

My heart jumped into my throat when I heard the bushes rustle behind me. Someone was there.

I broke into a run. The rustling at my back turned into a dull snapping of wet twigs, the quiet patter of feet rapidly catching up behind me on the path.

I didn’t look back.

Breath catching, I rushed down the trail, praying that whoever it was would lose interest, would head off on a different part of the path. For one brief second, I held on to the hope that it was that stupid reporter trailing me. If not him, then maybe it was someone out for a mid-afternoon jog, someone who wasn’t really after me. Stupid but, hey, a girl can dream. I tried to gauge how close my pursuer was by the even footfalls and snapping of twigs. With all the bends and twists to the trail, not to mention grasping branches that I was continually stepping over or dodging around, I didn’t want to risk looking behind me.

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder, closing on my upper arm and hauling me off balance. I caught a glimpse of leather and light gleaming on silver studs before I spun to my knees, hair whipping into my face, momentarily blinding me.

“Don’t make a fucking sound,” came a harsh whisper as someone clamped his hand over my mouth and dragged me to my feet.

I squirmed as much as I could to break free. My left arm felt like it had just about been torn out of the socket, and the right was pinned to my side by whoever had grabbed me. I growled around the hand over my mouth, eyes narrowing when I saw one of Seth’s idiot friends in the trees, gesturing at the guy holding me.

One thing to be said for the boy who’d grabbed me: he might have been stupid, but he was fast and strong. Even without his Were strength, he had the build of a guy who’d spent too much time at the gym, muscles straining against his T-shirt and tight jeans. I couldn’t budge his grip on me, and we were moving into the underbrush faster and more quietly than I would’ve believed possible. Seth crept out of the shade from somewhere to our left, taking the lead. The other two idiots followed, dragging me along in spite of my efforts to dig my heels in.

We were quickly surrounded by thick underbrush and low-hanging boughs. Some of the evergreens scratched my arms since the guy pulling me with him wasn’t being too careful about following any kind of a path, only about keeping me from crying out or getting away.

We passed the bench and the waterfall, one of the boys making a crack that brought all the blood rushing to my face. They’d seen—or could smell—enough to know what Chaz and I had been doing. Seth growled something that made the others quiet their jeers and laughter, and we soon came to another clearing deeper in the woods. The fourth member of Seth’s little group of misfits, a lanky teenager with a Day-Glo blue Mohawk and some fuzzy scruff that might have been an attempt at a goatee, was waiting for us with rope and duct tape. My heart sank at that. They’d planned this. Waiting for a moment when I’d be alone so they could snatch me up. Despite what Chaz had said, these guys must have been the ones who had burned up and destroyed our stuff. What a peachy keen development.

“Hold her hands out,” the guy with the Mohawk said. “Do you want to tie her ankles up, too? Or just her wrists?”

“Nah,” Seth replied, looking back the way we’d come. He scratched at a reddened patch on his neck where a silver necklace lay; dumb shit was trying to look tough, I suppose. “Just the wrists. She has legs, she can walk.”

“Yeah, but she might run.”

“Let her try.”

I didn’t like the dark amusement behind those words. Though I pulled against their grip, the boys were too strong. Between the guy who was holding me pinned against his chest and the one who held my wrists so the third could twine the rope around them, I didn’t have a prayer of escape.

Quick, businesslike, as though they’d done this a thousand times before, the guy who’d waited for us tightly bound my wrists and pulled off a strip of duct tape. I twisted away to scream when the guy holding me moved his hand, but the other covered my mouth with the tape before I got out much more than a squeak. The big guy who was holding me shifted his grip to my upper left arm, tight enough to hurt. I glared into his dull brown eyes and kicked his shin, making him wince and shake me.

“Stop that, you stupid bitch!”

“Shut up, Gabe,” Seth hissed out. “We’re still too close. Someone might hear you. Let’s go.”

Once again, I found myself moving, though whenever I dug in my heels, the guy—Gabe—just dragged me along. I felt like a three-year-old having a fit about leaving the toy store, and my fighting was about as effective against his strength, but I did everything I could to slow our progress down.

Finally, I managed to hook one foot under a root, forcing him to stumble as I locked my leg and pulled him up short. Growling low obscenities under his breath, making the others chuckle, he stopped and hefted me over his shoulder. His shoulder was a little bony, but his grip was like iron, the heat radiating from under his creased leather jacket and the strong scent of musk marking him as close to shifting. Irritated, I hit his back with my bound hands as he started walking again. I jerked away when one of the others reached out to brush his fingers through my trailing hair.

“What a pain in the ass. Are you sure he’ll come after her?”

“Yeah. Ethan will keep him busy for another hour or two with all the bane I put in that herbal shit they were feeding him. Once it wears off, it shouldn’t take too long for someone to figure out she’s missing.”

Oh, that was just great. They were purposely making Ethan’s transition harder on him to distract Chaz and take me? Clever. Far more clever a plan than I would’ve given the little shit credit for thinking up.

We continued in silence for a while, and I could tell we were going down the mountainside by the incline and how Gabe continually shifted his stance to balance and account for my weight. I picked at the tape over my mouth, but every time I reached for it, he jostled me until I stopped. The birds singing in the trees quieted as we passed, and small, unseen animals rushed off into the underbrush. The four guys turned their heads sometimes to follow things I couldn’t see or sniff the air to take in scents too subtle for my poor human senses, but for the most part we kept to what I could now see was an old, mostly overgrown, deer run.

What felt like hours passed, though the sun was still well up in the sky when we came to a halt by a sheer granite cleft in the side of the mountain, overgrown with vines and eaten away by wind and water. Lichen crept up the stone and covered the trunks of nearby trees. Jagged pieces of stone were scattered along the ground or sticking out of the mulch where time and water had broken them off of the rock face. There were standing pools of runoff here and there, bugs idly buzzing over the still surfaces. It was a gloomy, spooky place, one nobody in his or her right mind would use to make camp.

Gabe set me down none too gently, and I ended up landing on my ass in the mud. I shuddered as cold and dirty water immediately soaked into my already wet jeans, glaring as the guys all laughed at my expense. Eyeing them in their shifting clothes—mostly cheap, faux leather biker jackets and stretchy sweatpants (which made them look more like the teenagers they were than the bad-asses they were trying to come off as)—I had a hard time seeing them as a threat instead of an annoyance.

Then Seth leaned down and grabbed under my arm, dragging me through the slick mulch until my back was up against the rock, the steely strength and rough handling reminding me that I wasn’t dealing with pushovers. Even low on the supernatural totem pole as they were, the four of them presented a terrible danger to me without my weapons or Chaz here to protect me.

That didn’t mean I’d sit back and take whatever they wanted to dish out, though. I used the rock to help lever to my feet, and he stepped back to watch me, not bothering to help or hold me down. I grabbed at the tape, pulling it off with a sharp jerk, grimacing at the pull against my skin. “What the hell do you nut jobs think you’re doing? What the fuck do you want?”

Gabe leered. “What do you think we want?”

“Shut up, asshole,” Mohawk said, giving Gabe a shove hard enough to make him stumble. “I’m not dying today. I don’t care what the plan said. You touch her, you know he’ll kill us all.”