Therian Prisoner: 3 (Therian Heat) (10 page)

“I’ll be heading back to Aspen tomorrow afternoon, so I can drop them off. Or if you’d prefer something more discreet, we can meet on neutral ground,” Jake volunteered. “That’s if Dhane wants to return, of course.”

“Of course,” she muttered. Pressure built behind her eyes, making her temples throb. She was so sick of conflict and danger. Why did life have to be so complicated?

“You’re welcome to stay here and see how things go,” the bearded man finally spoke. His voice was deep and rumbly, perfectly matching his mountain-man appearance. “I’m Holt, by the way. This is my house and no one will bother you while you’re my guest.”

“Except my traitorous brother.” She glared at Landon before turning back to Holt. “Thanks for the offer, but Jake’s makes more sense.” She looked at the tiger-shifter and the strangest ache erupted deep in her chest. “I’ll meet you in Idaho Springs. Call me when you’re about forty-five minutes out and we can figure out exactly where to meet.”

Jake nodded and she left without sparing Landon another look.

* * * * *

Devon woke up alone before the hearth, warm and relaxed after her first full night’s sleep in nearly a month. The fire had burned itself out and the cabin was empty. She knew Ian wouldn’t have gone far, so she ignored the sudden leap in her heartbeat. He’d probably gone outside to chop wood or—a vivid memory interrupted the thought and made her smile. She would never forget how Ian looked while chopping wood, but now she had other memories to add to the sight. She knew how his lips felt and his mouth tasted. She had felt his muscles ripple beneath her questing hands.

The front door swung open after a perfunctory knock and Devon whipped her head toward the intruder.

“Good morning. I’m Dorothy, a good friend of Ian’s.” The woman appeared to be in her late fifties, though age was hard to determine with Therians. Her short gray hair curled in an informal style that perfectly matched her approachable demeanor. Blue jeans and a baggy sweater made her seem right at home in the rustic setting.

“Where did Ian go?”

“He wanted to scout out the area, but didn’t want you to be alone. So he gave me a call and I rode on over.”

“You ‘rode on over’?”

“Horses, motorcycles and ATVs are about the only way to make it up here. The road, if you can call it that, ends at my place.”

“And which did you ride?” It was an irrelevant detail, but Devon wasn’t sure how to react to her visitor. She was sitting on a pile of sleeping bags wearing nothing but a black t-shirt.

“ATV, and I brought some things I think you’ll enjoy. Clean clothes, food, a toothbrush, deodorant, that sort of thing.”

Devon finally relaxed enough to smile. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Then I’ll go grab the duffel bag and we can get started.” Dorothy went outside then returned with a backpack as well as a duffel bag. She handed the duffel bag to Devon and kept the backpack. “Why don’t you get yourself put back together and I’ll start breakfast.”

“Thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to wandering around in Ian’s hand-me-downs.”

“Understandable. You’re a tiny little thing and he’s tall as a tree.”

Usually comments about her size made Devon feel defensive, but Dorothy was just too likable. Her smile was infectious and she seemed like the perfect grandmother-next-door.

The duffel bag contained two pairs of jeans and four casual shirts, as well as a variety of personal care products. The sizes weren’t perfect, but the clothes would all fit better than anything Ian owned. Devon had taken a shower the night before, so she selected an outfit and dressed, anxious to see what Dorothy was cooking.

The smell of frying bacon had already permeated the cabin by the time Devon emerged from the bathroom. She paused in the doorway and inhaled. “Gods that smells good.”

“Combine bacon and mountain air and there isn’t anything better.” Dorothy motioned her over with a smile. “If you want coffee or tea, Ian has that infernal machine over there. Don’t know what’s wrong with a good old fashion dial-a-brew, but he loves those silly little cup things.”

Devon had seen Ian operate the machine the night before and it was pretty straightforward. “Would you like something? I’m pretty sure I can make it work.”

“Brought my Dew with me.” She pointed to the bright green can with the bacon tongs. “It’s too early in the day for most folks, but I live on the stuff.”

Devon smiled as she went to work on her coffee. “That has as much caffeine as coffee anyway.”

“And tastes a whole lot better.”

“Says you. I love coffee.” She brought the steaming mug to her nose and inhaled appreciatively.

Dorothy wrinkled her nose. “I like the smell but never acquired the taste.” She jerked her arm back as the bacon grease sputtered and splashed her arm. “Dang! Bacon’s feisty this morning.”

“Can I help with something?”

“Pull up a chair and keep me company. I’m tired of talking to my dogs.”

Rather than retrieve one of the chairs from across the room, Devon just leaned against the counter and sipped her coffee. “How’d you meet Ian? How long have you two known each other?”

“It’s not a happy story. I’d rather talk about you.”

Devon took another sip then set the mug on the counter beside her. “I think I’d rather hear the story, unless you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Happened ages ago. I’m okay with sharing it now.” Dorothy drained the grease off the bacon and moved the strips to a paper towel-lined plate before she began her story. “Albert and I moved to Leadville in ’78. That’s 1878. Neither of us were willing to work in the mines, so we grubstaked the miners. We had a tiny little cabin, not unlike this one, except no electricity or indoor plumbing.” Her smile took on a sad sort of wistfulness. “Didn’t matter. We were so in love we would have lived in a tree if we’d had to.”

“You’re a raptor, like Ian?”

“Raptor, yes. I’m an owl-shifter. But Ian’s one of a kind.” A calculative gleam came into her eyes as she added, “It would be tragic if he can’t remedy that before time catches up to him.”

Devon ignored the shrewd speculation in Dorothy’s expression, not allowing it to distract her from the story. “Do Therian raptors all live as long as you and Ian? I hadn’t realized any of us lived for thousands of years.”

Pausing with an egg in each hand, Dorothy’s gaze narrowed. “Did Ian tell you how old he is? He refuses to tell anyone.”

Warmed by his show of trust, Devon just smiled. She hadn’t realized his age was a secret, but she had no intention of betraying his trust.

“Fine. Keep his secrets. You’re obviously someone special to him.” Dorothy cracked eggs into a shallow dish and then used a fork to scramble them. “A man named Dieter wanted to buy me and Albert out, but we had no interest in selling. We didn’t realize he knew what we were until the night he came to ‘motivate’ us to sell.”

“Did he kill Albert?” Devon tried to rush her toward the end, no longer sure she wanted to hear the details.

“Eventually. He came with four of his men. Cowards always travel in packs. They grabbed Albert and beat him senseless. But Dieter was holding me, so Albert wouldn’t shift and fly away.”

“Why didn’t you shift and go get help or something?” Devon’s pulse accelerated as she imagined Dorothy’s helplessness. She knew all too well how it felt to be helpless.

“I’d just realized I was pregnant and I wasn’t willing to risk the baby.” Dorothy busied herself with breakfast as they momentarily lapsed into silence. “My mother lost two babies by shifting too soon. With me she didn’t shift the entire time she was pregnant and I was born healthy.” Dorothy looked up from the scrambled eggs and managed to smile. “Don’t let that scare you, hon. It’s a complication with my bloodline, not all Therians.”

The eggs were almost done, so Devon untied the bag surrounding the loaf of bread and put a couple of slices in the toaster. “How did you realize Dieter knew you were shapeshifters?”

“When the beating didn’t change our minds, Dieter told his men to tie Albert to a tree. Then they fastened amulets around both our necks before they turned their evil on me.”

“What sort of amulet?” She didn’t need to ask what sort of evil. There seemed to be an inevitable destination for violence against females.

“It weakened us so badly we couldn’t shift, which made it impossible for us to avoid what they did to me. They made Albert watch as all five of them had a turn at me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Devon barely forced the words past her burning throat and tears blurred her vision. All the shame surged back to the surface constricting her chest and making her tremble.
It wasn’t your fault.
That’s what Ian had told her last night. So why couldn’t she make herself believe it?

Dorothy filled two plates and brought them to the table before she spoke again. “I’m Ian’s closest neighbor, but I don’t think that’s why he wanted me to talk to you.”

Devon brought her coffee to the table and sat, not sure if she’d be able to eat until she regained control of her emotions. “I don’t know what he expects me to say. I wasn’t raped.”

“Then why do I see my own pain reflected back from your eyes?” Dorothy reached across the table and touched Devon’s hand. “You don’t have to tell me what happened, but talk about what you’re feeling. Keeping it in makes the emotions stronger, gives them more power over you.”

“I don’t think the emotions will make sense unless I explain what happened.” She pressed her mug to her lips but couldn’t make herself drink.

“I’m more than willing to listen, but only if you’re ready to talk.”

Somehow it was easier to share her shame with someone who didn’t know her well, someone who had suffered similar pain. “I was kidnapped and held captive for a month. They kept me alone in a room, with no sound and often no light. They put me through all sorts of tests and gave me all sorts of drugs.” She shuddered as the horror crept up on her again.

Dorothy took her hand again, anchoring her to the present. “You’re safe, Devon. It’s over.”

Allowing the simple touch to calm her, Devon took a moment to organize her thoughts before she continued. “When the project lead realized I couldn’t shift, she altered the focus of her research. I was never really sure what they were trying to learn, other than understanding our ability to transform, of course.”

“This went on for a month?”

“Twenty-eight days to be exact.”

“When did the focus change?” Without releasing her hand, Dorothy picked up her fork and began to eat her eggs. The message was clear and remarkably effective. This was just a conversation about events that could no longer hurt her.

Devon began to relax and the events came flowing out. “The new injections, some sort of gene therapy, revved me up like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I tried to ignore it. I tried walking it off. I tried ice-cold showers, but nothing helped.”

“Did they allow you to masturbate?”

Dorothy’s tone was so matter-of-fact that Devon replied without hesitation. “Yes, but it didn’t help for long. And the urgency grew stronger with each injection.”

“So they gave you someone to help with the sexual frenzy?” Devon only managed to nod, so Dorothy asked, “Was he Therian or human?”

Her secret was almost out. She took a deep breath and pushed it all the way into the light. “
They
were human. Three of the guards. They weren’t allowed to—penetrate me, but they did everything else you can imagine.” She looked away as tears escaped the corners of her eyes. “And I…liked it.” Her hurried confession ended with a ragged sob and Devon covered her face with her hands.

Dorothy rounded the table and knelt beside Devon, wrapping her arms around Devon’s trembling body. “That was every bit as much rape as what was done to me. Instead of holding you down they altered your will with chemicals. They took control of your body and forced you to feel what they wanted you to feel. This was not your fault. None of it was your fault.”

It only took a few minutes for Devon to cry herself out. She’d shed so many tears in the past twenty-four hours she was amazed she had any left. She eased back from Dorothy and forced herself to smile. “I keep telling myself that, but I’m not sure how to start believing it.”

“If you were covered in bruises no one would doubt that it hadn’t been your fault. But they used drugs to alter your needs and paralyze your will, so you feel responsible. Did you willingly take the drugs?”

“No.”

“Did you ask the guards to touch you?”

Devon shook her head, but Dorothy arched her brows, obviously not satisfied with a nonverbal response. “No. They came into my cell uninvited and took advantage of my reaction to the injections.”

“Exactly right. Now say it like you mean it.”

“It wasn’t my fault. No honorable person would have done what those guards did.”

“Good girl.” Dorothy pushed back to her feet and returned to her chair. “Now keep reminding yourself until all the guilt is gone.”

Cold eggs had never tasted so good. Devon felt empty, but in a good way. She was no longer encumbered by unwanted feelings. She blew out a shaky breath and realized Dorothy hadn’t finished her story. Ian hadn’t entered the scene, so there had to be more to tell. “I don’t mean to sound crass, but if Dieter murdered Albert, why did he let you live?”