Skin Deep (8 page)

Not having Kira with her would drain them both, but if Kira was out, she might be able to get help. It’d be safer for both. Mahon wanted her familiar. Surely, he wouldn’t kill her before he got what he wanted.

Harsh words came from the direction of the bathroom. She glanced over to see him staring at the mirror. While his attention was taken by the call, she lowered her grip on Kira, inviting her out.

Kira loped from Angelique’s back around to her stomach, and Angelique braced herself for what was to come. The big cat slammed upward hitting her like a punch to the gut. Angelique bit her lip hard, only making a low moan while her body screamed. Mahon’s voice rose in rushed agitation. He paced a circuit from the vanity to the bathroom and back again.

Angelique pushed out, helping the cat go. Her skin bulged into the shape of the melanistic leopard. Pain blinded her with white-hot agony, worse than all the ant bites combined. Her consciousness dimmed, but she fought to stay awake.

The bed creaked with the sudden added weight as Kira became a reality. The big cat rose upward and hopped to the floor next to the bed, crouching out of sight of the mirror. The feeling of being alone drenched Angelique with sadness before she could get her emotions under control.

The druid’s gaze drifted her way, but he turned away again after satisfying his curiosity and continued his pacing. Mahon’s anxiousness to get off the phone stirred up his restless power. “I know… Yes, I know.” He sighed. “This is not the first time I’ve dealt with your kin. I appreciate the assistance of your wolf. Enjoy your half of the deal, do what you promised, and we will both live long and happy lives.” He leaned over the sink.

The conversation sounded like it’d soon be over. Kira nudged Angelique’s cheek softly, and Angelique moved her head closer to her familiar. The big cat needed to leave while she still could. Angelique ordered Kira to find Connor and lead him here, putting enough energy behind it so the black panther wouldn’t fight the command.

Her vision darkened. The sounds of glass breaking and Mahon’s cursing were the last things she heard.

Help would come. Hopefully.

Chapter Eight

A throbbing ache radiated through Angelique’s jaw as she returned to consciousness. Her eyelids felt leaden and impossible to lift. A meaty palm smacked her cheek, leaving a sharp sting in its wake.

“Come on, you imbecile. Snap out of it.” His weight pressed her into the bed.

She groaned and moved a little, unable to muster up much strength. Every muscle in her body protested. She tried opening her eyes but couldn’t. Fear built within her chest. Who knew how long she’d been out? Who knew what he’d done to her, since she couldn’t feel much except intense pain. The only thing she remembered was Kira breaking out from the window.

“Ah, finally awake again, are you? You think you’re so clever sending away your cat?” His voice quivered with fury like none she’d heard before. “I tried to be nice. I
tried
not to go overboard with you.” He sighed, and she felt him swipe a cool sticky substance around her eyes. “At least look at me when I’m talking to you.”

She felt power soak into her skin and the heaviness in her eyelids eased. Cracking open her eyes, she saw Mahon staring down at her with an unusual mixture of pity and anger. Her confusion must’ve shown in her gaze because he shook his head. “I don’t—” Her voice cracked, and she coughed, creating even more pain in her throat.

He scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated. Sucking in a deep breath, he settled. “Okay,” he said as if talking to a child, “Listen. I will ask a final time for you to part with your gift. You will say yes.” His neat row of tools and knives were disheveled from him straddling her, but he picked up a short, pudgy-bladed knife.

“Wha—” she rasped, sounding like a demented frog.

“It’s a skinning knife. What’ll happen is,” he said, tilting it before her eyes, giving her a closer look at the wickedly sharp blade, “You say ‘yes, I will freely give you my power,’ I take it, and I’ll put this knife away.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, which hurt like hell. How did he expect her to say all those words when she could barely complete one or two?

“If you say no, I’ll finish disrobing you, skin the flesh from your body, and wait for your cat to return, which it
will
have to do eventually.” He rested his chin on one fist and watched her, waiting for her response. With his other hand, he toyed with the knife, tossing it up by the blade and catching it with the handle.

What was she supposed to do? As far as she knew, giving up her familiar would mean death for her and, most likely, Kira. Even if it were possible for her to survive it, she’d be condemning Kira to a life of being this druid’s slave. “Wa-water,” she said at last, knowing she needed to give her answer.

Mahon’s lips pursed with curiosity. “Water?” He shrugged a shoulder and then hopped off the bed. He used the knife’s blade to peek into her grocery bag. When he found the bottle of water she’d gotten at the checkout, he brought it over, twisting the tip as he walked to her.

“You’ll give me an answer?” He sat on the side of the bed as he had before.

She tipped her head forward. Even that slight movement created a whirlwind of hurt in her head and neck. She’d give him an answer. Although she knew she’d suffer severely for it. This was her only option.

Cradling her neck, he held her head up a little, and he pressed the bottle to her lips. “Good girl. Sip slowly. Wouldn’t want you to choke.”

Angelique took a few swallows of water. They burned her raw throat, but she felt a little better.

After a couple more drinks, he set the bottle aside. “Now then, I gave you the water. Give me what I want.” He held her chin in his hand and placed the knife’s edge against the skin of her neck.

“Never.” Her voice croaked, but she could answer. “You’ll never have my gift.”

His fingers tightened on her chin, and he roared in rage. “Damn you, stubborn girl. I tried to give you every chance. You have no idea how cruel I could’ve been.” He threw down the knife on the bed and grabbed another. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, most which she couldn’t begin to comprehend, he grabbed the remaining fabric of her jacket, slicing and ripping away the material. He continued with each piece of clothing she’d been wearing.

Once she was nude, he pulled away the ants, tearing her skin in the process. She screamed involuntarily with each tug. He ran his fingers along her sides as if looking for a seam to snag and cut away. The skinning knife in hand, he placed it against her skin just under her armpit and slowly, precisely started slicing.

She twisted away, trying to keep him from continuing. The piercing anguish caused by the blade made it impossible not to struggle. He held her down, not bothered by her movement. He’d done this before.

A loud crash turned their attention toward the door. Another bang. Someone yanked away the vines and branches in chunks. A howl of rage pierced the room and, with a final smash, Connor stood in the woodsy debris.

She dropped her head against the pillow. He’d come for her.

* * *

Connor’s heart raced. His hands and arms bore scratches from the jagged thorns. The wounds had already begun healing. The makeshift door smelled of a kind of magic he hadn’t encountered in a long time. Druidic magic.

The scent of blood hit his senses, and he narrowed his gaze on its source—the bed. He first saw Angelique’s naked, bound form, and then he saw the man sitting beside her on the narrow bed. Crimson dripped from a slice in her side.

A glint of steel flashed in the man’s hand. A skinning knife.

Something snapped within Connor. His beast leapt to the surface, urged on by his fear for Angel. Connor’s spine contorted, and he fell to his knees as a rush of agony tore through him. His wolf stretched, filling his body like a glove. Muscles ripped and bones broke, only to reform.

In his wolf form, he came back to himself and remembered why he was here. His eyesight as a werewolf was better suited for the fight to come. The increased healing rate his abilities gave him had already knitted up the thorny scratches and taken away the last bit of pain from shapeshifting. Gnashing his teeth, he dove at the druid who had hurt his Angel. He knocked into the man, and they toppled over the bed to the floor.

The man muttered a few words and tossed out his hand, throwing Connor back. “What are you doing here, wolf? I came to an agreement with your kind to be left alone with this girl. Did your leader not fill you in? Shame.” He stood, drawing himself up to his full height. His hands went to his belt, which contained a pelt of fur smelling distinctly like… With a twist of the druid’s wrist, a blast of magic pushed him back a few steps. In a smooth, painless flicker, the druid changed from man into a bear.

“Connor,” Angelique rasped, her haggard voice sounding foreign to his ears, “be careful.”

He bounced his head in a nod, then threw himself at the bear. While the druid had his fancy bag of tricks, Connor had his fighting ability. He’d used it to carefully earn and maintain his position in the Pack. He could handle his own in combat.

The druid’s large, powerful paw swiped at him, but it lacked both agility and the natural grace bears normally possessed. The bear’s claws were a lot longer than Connor’s, but they barely touched the outer layer of his fur.

Taking a quick step back, Connor huffed and shook his head. He was not impressed.

The druid stalked toward him. He easily towered over Connor, bumping his head against the ceiling. He let out a deafening roar. The moment the bear dropped to all four legs, Connor lunged forward and bit into his muzzle. His teeth sank deep into the druid’s flesh. Blood flowed from the beast’s nose.

He let go and skipped backward, but the bear slashed into his side, forcing a yip from him as he darted away.

Angelique cried out in surprise and fear. He wished he could calm her, but he had to focus on the fight.

Connor put what distance he could between himself and the bear. His side throbbed. However, the familiar tingling of the wound slowly knitting closed soothed some of his pain. He flashed his fangs, letting out a rolling growl.

The druid wasn’t healing. Connor was. Nature and instincts kicked in. This was something his wolf kin had done before. A nip here, a slash of teeth there. Slowly but surely, he would bring his prey down.

The same thought must’ve occurred to the druid. One of his paws rose toward his nose as if feeling the wound. The druid lacked the natural instincts of the bear. A soft rush of magic flowed into the room, and the druid’s nose stopped bleeding.

Connor took an uncertain step back, lowering his nose to scent what was going on with the druid. While the bleeding might have stopped, the bear’s scent had changed. His position was off-center, and his attitude more reserved. Seemed like whatever spell he’d cast had taken much-needed energy from him. That didn’t stop the druid from charging like a freight train, crushing a small chair in his wake.

Connor jumped to the side, but a sharp pain rippled through his shoulder as the bear kicked him with his hind leg. The shoulder held, but the kick sent Connor rolling to the side.

Clearing his head, he dug his claws into the wood floor below and leapt at the bear’s exposed rear. The druid still hadn’t been able to turn around in the cramped space.

Instead of charging the bear head-on, he ran to his right side, which the bear seemed to favor. His assault on the bear was given away by the light clicking of his claws. He lunged for the bear’s leg, sinking his teeth into its calf. A bellowing roar came from the druid, and he tried to kick Connor, missing by mere inches.

He backed away, seeing the wounds he’d inflicted on the bear’s nose had yet to heal. The blood flow was stemmed, but it seemed the druid was unable to fully heal his wounds in bear form. Their injuries had covered the floor in a slick, bloody mess.

Connor stayed out of the bear’s reach, trying to keep him moving as he waited for his next opportunity. This needed to end soon. He had to take care of Angelique. Shifting his weight, he heard the tapping of the bear’s claws on the floor. He needed to switch tactics.

As the bear lunged for him with his maw wide open, Connor danced outside of the druid’s reach. When he noticed his opponent tiring, he snapped his teeth, ripping into the bear’s right ear. Avoiding the bear’s swooping paw, he bit into his plush side near the ribcage. He tasted the blood of his enemy once again. Feeling the bear tense, he disengaged.

The bear rose to as much of his full height as it could without bumping his head again and paused.

Connor wasn’t sure what distracted the druid. Tossing his head in the direction of the doorway, he saw Kira crawling into the room, pulling herself forward with her claws and heading toward Angelique, almost completely void of strength. The bear followed Kira’s progress with a hungry gaze.

The momentary distraction caught them both off guard.

Connor gathered up his strength, and he lunged into the upright bear’s chest. He landed before the druid had a chance to turn. Both of them dropped to the floor with a loud thump. The scent of bear reminded him of a deep, wild forest. Blood soaked their fur, and he couldn’t tell whose blood was whose.

With the swat of a huge bear paw, Connor flew to the side, hitting the wall with a thud. His head swam and stars filled his vision. No, he couldn’t blackout now. Stumbling to his feet, he noticed the druid dragging himself out the door in human form.

Connor’s instincts drove him to his enemy, but a small sound from the bed cut through his anger. The druid disappeared, and Connor huffed, shaking his head in frustration.

Connor’s shoulders, back, and sides bled openly, but it mattered little to him. His wounds would heal. He limped over toward Angelique. Every muscle in his body hurt, but he couldn’t imagine that even compared to her pain. Putting his front paws on the bed, he nudged her arm with his muzzle.