Should have Put a Leash On It (21 page)

That meant Trevor was desperate. And more dangerous because of it.

Micah risked being seen and crawled as quickly as he could to the fireplace and ducked behind the pile of scented wood. The stench of strange herbs and plants stung his nose and the heat from the fire was almost burning, but it let him see most of the room.

He paused, waiting to see if Trevor knew he was here. There was no way the bastard would be able to resist attacking or mocking if he had.

Nothing. He couldn’t hear anything.

On the right side of the room there was Rylan, hanging from the ceiling by an iron hook and tied wrists. There were bruises all over Rylan’s body and his mate’s head hung limply. Micah ached with the need to go to him, but he quashed it.

He still didn’t know where exactly Trevor was in the room.

Micah barely had time to scrunch himself up as small as possible when he heard footsteps heading toward him.

“I’ll ask you one more time. Where are those pups?” Trevor snarled, continued past where Micah was hiding and walked up to Rylan. “I told you to get the sniveling little brats and bring them to me!”

Trevor grabbed hold of Rylan’s hair and yanked his head back.

“I know what you did, you pathetic half-breed. You killed your pack—your alpha. How exactly did Remington look when you gutted him? Did he cry for his bitch of a mother and squeal like a stuck pig?”

Rylan didn’t respond in any way. Even when Trevor punched him in the stomach, Rylan only cried out in pain, there was no emotional reaction.

Micah’s wolf whined and his fingers dug into the one log to keep from swinging up and over the pile and launching himself at Trevor. The wood split like butter. Closing his eyes, he took a shuddering breath in.

He opened his eyes once his wolf backed down, narrowing on the worthless soon-to-be-dead wolf shifter hurting his mate. Trevor would die. No other retribution would be enough.

Trevor let Rylan go with a growl and took a remote of some kind out of his pocket. Thumbing around one of the buttons, Trevor taunted Rylan. “I admit, I’m tempted to shut off the little chip in your brain just so I can see you mourn and suffer because of what you’ve done. Of course, then you’ll be of no use to me. “

Turn it off? The thought of Trevor messing around with Rylan’s brain was sickening, but he clung on to the one bit of information that gave him hope.

All he had to do was wait, the sadistic fucker wouldn’t be able to resist sticking the knife in further and making Rylan face what he’d done. Or rather, what Trevor thought, he’d done.

Eyes sparkling with malicious intent, Trevor lifted the remote and waved it in Rylan’s face. “I think I will let you out of your cage, just so you can see what I saw through my little camera attached to your retinas. The best part is, I might even drop you somewhere where what’s left of your pack can find you. They’ll kill you for me. Once I press this button, there will be no evidence that I did anything to you, thanks to a little help from my councilor friends.”

Friends
not friend. Bile rose in his throat.

“Yes, that’s what I’ll do,” Trevor said, sounding gleeful.

Trevor pressed a button on the remote and Rylan screamed in pain.

He bit his lip hard enough that blood filled his mouth as he fought not to make a noise. He had to wait. If Trevor was telling the truth—and why wouldn’t he be when he was talking to himself—then this was probably the way to free Rylan.

“Wakey wakey, no passing out. That will spoil the fun.” Trevor slapped Rylan across the face.

The blank mask bled away and Micah’s heart clenched at the expression of utter devastation that took its place. Rylan looked completely broken.

“No...I killed them. All of them,” Rylan sobbed, jerking in his hanging position.

“Yes, you did. Now where are the pups? I saw everything you did and I know you deliberately closed your eyes when you got close. Now where are they?”

Rylan spat blood at Trevor’s face and smiled. “Never gonna fuckin tell ya.”

Pride swelled within him at Rylan’s courage.

Trevor snarled, wiping the spittle away with his hand. Trevor smacked Rylan again, this time with enough force to swing Rylan around on the hook. “You will. The smoke will see to that.”

From Micah’s vantage point behind the wood, he knew it was now or never. But there was a problem. The second he came out of his hiding place, Trevor was going to run and Micah wasn’t on the right side of the room to block the other exit.

He had a choice, go to Rylan or tackle Trevor to the ground and capture him.

In the end it wasn’t a choice at all.

His fingers tightened around the iron poker as he cantered himself. He would have only a few seconds to close the gap between Trevor and himself before the bastard would either run or hurt Rylan.

Rising up, Micah jumped out from behind the stack of logs and charged at Trevor.

The wolf shifter spun around as Micah revealed himself and reached behind him. Micah knew what was going to happen, but he would never be able to dodge in time so he continued forward.

Trevor pulled a gun from the small of his back and fired. The first shot missed. The second and third, however tore into Micah’s stomach.

He grunted as the bullets ripped into him, but the need to get to his mate overruled everything else. Trevor kept shooting and Micah thanked his lucky stars that the bastard was a piss poor shot.

One bullet grazed his thigh and his leg collapsed under him and he fell to the floor. But only for a second before he scrambled back up and limped on. Trevor took that opportunity to escape.

The heavy metal door of the exit slammed and Trevor’s scent retreated quickly, the scented smoke overtaking it.

Micah stumbled over to Rylan and checked his pulse, finding it thready.

“Rylan? Ry?” Micah tapped Rylan’s cheeks and tried to rouse him.

He wrapped one arm around Rylan, taking his weight and reached up with the other to untie the man from the hook. Briefly, Rylan opened his eyes, but they were still blank and with no indication of recognition or lucidity.

Dragging Rylan into his lap, Micah leaned down and put his mouth to Rylan’s neck. This wasn’t how he’d imagined this happening, but then again if everything worked out the way Micah had thought it would he probably would never had ended up mated to Rylan in the first place.

Despite the way it grated on his need to control everything, perhaps fate did have a better plan. He let his wolf out just a little and sank his human teeth into Rylan’s flesh where neck met shoulder.

The coppery taste of blood burst over his tongue, but he didn’t pull back, only licked the wounded skin. He kept his bite firm though.

Rylan jerked in his hold, snarling and struggling.

Micah tightened his arms around Rylan’s chest and restrained his mate’s flailing arms.

When Rylan howled and tried to shift, Micah had to either let go or risk seriously hurting Rylan. He reached for his own wolf, letting his animal come forth.

As a wolf, Rylan would have scented him better and immediately calmed.

With only a small shake, he let go of Rylan’s ruff and rubbed himself against the side of Rylan’s bare wolf body. It broke his heart that Rylan’s beautiful fur still hadn’t grown back.

Brushing up against his mate, Micah rubbed his fur down one side of Rylan’s wolf and back up the other, effectively covering the other wolf in his scent. His wolf circled Rylan’s again, sniffing at the bruises and cuts. He growled when he got to the T brand on Rylan’s foreleg then licked it.

Rylan rolled to his back and whined until Micah put his teeth back to Rylan’s throat and nipped gently. It wasn’t dominance behavior, but rather he was offering comfort. By nipping Rylan, Micah was showing that he still claimed him, would protect him.

Without his pelt, Rylan’s wolf must be freezing and feeling vulnerable, but Micah worried that he’d go into shock or something.

He nudged Rylan with his nose then shifted back to human and grumbled that Rylan should do the same. “C’mon, your turn, Ry.” With an aggrieved sigh, Rylan followed suit.

“Ryla—” Shoved backward, Micah found himself with a lap full of naked Rylan.

“I saw you die,” Rylan said, reverently reaching out to touch Micah’s face. “I killed you.”

Rylan’s green eyes shined with tears as he violently shook.

Rushing to comfort him, Micah took hold of Rylan’s hands and pressed them to his chest so he could feel his heartbeat. “No, baby. We’re all alive, I promise.”

Rylan tried to pull away, but Micah kept him where he was.

Since he hadn’t bled out yet he guessed the bullets hadn’t nicked anything too important. They just hurt like a mother fucker.

To distract himself as much as Rylan he changed the subject. “I hate that fucking smell,” Micah complained, coughing to sell the bit.

Micah got up, hobbled over to the fire and dumped the bucket of water over the nasty smelling logs—they smelled like ass and feet. Smoke clouded around him like a smothering smog as the fire fought to come back to life despite the water he’d dumped on it. He waved his hand to disperse it so he could find his way back to Rylan. At least the smog would help hide the blood he knew covered his stomach and that he felt trickling down his back and onto his thighs.

“There’s a window panel,” Rylan said between coughing, “a few feet from the fire...meant for ventilation I think.”

Being shot was fucking annoying, but at least Trevor’s hits were through and through.

Digging a bullet out of his stomach was not high on his list of things to do. But at least it wouldn’t be as bad as the time he’d gotten shot in the ass by a human who thought she was aiming at a wild wolf. It had only been a low velocity hit but still...being shot in the ass was something people never lived down.

Thank God his siblings hadn’t found out. Or rather, thank Hank—his stepfather—for keeping it a secret and being nice enough to drive up and stay with him for a few days to help him get around.

He limped over to where he figured Rylan meant and thumped the wall with his fist. The panel moved and he realized it was a grid set-up. He felt around until he found a little lever and pushed it up. Immediately the grates creaked open and started venting out the foul-smelling smoke.

As he turned and looked in the direction of the door he’d come through originally, he debated whether it would be better to stay here or go searching for the others.

“Are the others—is Remy really okay?”

“He was when I left him,” Micah answered before he’d considered his words.

“You left him?” Rylan’s outraged shriek made him flinch.

Ushering his mate away from the line of sight from the door in case one of the vampires or someone trigger happy with a gun rushed in, Micah ignore the familiar glare.

“Yes, I left him. They were taking too long and I heard you howl,” he explained, feeling defensive.

Rylan jerked back and shot him an angry scowl. “So you’re blaming me for this?”

Micah sputtered and stared at Rylan in shock. Then he noticed the little twitch at the corner of the man’s mouth and realized Rylan was playing him.

“Asshole.” He sighed in relief.

Tutting, Rylan wagged a finger at him and laughed hoarsely, clutching his ribs. “Tsk, that’s no way to talk to your mate.”

Micah groaned in exasperation. “Have you always been this much work?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You just weren’t around enough to notice,” Rylan answered with a chuckle and a nod.

“Urgh. I’m never going to get rid of you am I?” The lighthearted teasing kept his pain manageable as he had something else to concentrate on.

“Nope.” Rylan reached up to touch the marks Micah had left on his throat with a grin.

The wolf in him was satisfied by the possessive declaration the bite made. There was no way any shifter, vampire or any other kind of supernatural would mistake Rylan for being single and unclaimed ever again.

“You won’t be able to cover it,” he said with pride. The only way the bite wouldn’t be on display all the time was to wear a turtleneck.

Rylan rolled his eyes, but didn’t take offence. “Now my marks match yours.”

“Yeah, they do.” Micah grinned, the relief of Rylan really being here and talking to him. He sat down heavily on the floor next to Rylan, leaning against the stone wall.

“You know your mother’s going to get those sexual health leaflets out again when she sees them. She’ll think we’re trying to eat each other.”

Micah’s mind went immediately to the gutter. “Hmmm. We haven’t tried that yet. Maybe when I can stand up without bleeding everywhere.”

Rylan immediately stopped laughing and dragged himself across the floor a few inches to be closer to him. The other shifter pushed his hands aside and checked Micah’s wound. “Urgh. Don’t be a baby. It’s just a through and through, missed any vital organs and the bleeding’s already slowing.”

“I thought mates were supposed to be loving.” Micah laughed when Rylan snarled at him and slapped at him. The hit missed, but the familiar grouchy fire comforted him. Rylan was going to be fine.

“I’ll be loving once we’re home and you’re making me breakfast in bed.”

Micah winced. “We might have to wait a while on that. There’s a lot of carnage to clean up after the performance we pulled off. How do you get fake blood and animal guts out of the carpet and of the walls?”

Rylan stared at him open-mouthed for a moment before frowning. “I have no idea, burn the house down?”

He snorted and wrinkled his nose. “I hope not. I hate the smell of smoke.” They both turned in the direction of the door to the main building, hearing the others heading their way. “Here come the cavalry, quick get in my arms so they think I’m being manly and rescuing the fair maiden.”

Rylan hit out at him again with a tired chuckle. “You’re such an ass.”

“Your ass though, now. It’s too late to change your mind,” Micah shot back with an eyebrow dance, clutching at his stomach wound. Yep, blood loss was making him loopy. Laughing may be good for the soul but it made bullet wounds hurt like a bitch.