Emmitt's Treasure: Judgement of the Six Companion Series, book 2 (27 page)

“How long?” she asked when I hung up.

The response flew from my mind when I turned to look at her.  She was at the foot of the bed, lying on her stomach with her feet in the air.  She looked cute and oh-so-tempting.

“Thirty minutes,” I said, recalling what she’d asked.

“Think you’ll make it?” A sassy smile curved her lips.

“I might not.”

I settled onto the bed beside her and forced myself to focus on the movie.  The random scent of pepperoni drifted into our room.  My stomach made a few sounds of protest.  Breakfast had been a little light, and lunch had barely met hungry human standards.  My stomach was going through food withdrawal.

“You need to think about something else so we can hear the movie,” Michelle said with a laugh.

“I can’t.  I’m hungry, and someone down the hall had pizza delivered.”

She leaned over and nipped my earlobe.  I sighed and turned toward her.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to think about that, either.”

She grinned then turned back to the movie.  She was a tease, and I liked it.  A little too much.  It was becoming uncomfortable to keep lying on my stomach.  When twenty-five minutes had passed, I rolled off the bed.

Michelle cleared her throat to get my attention then crooked her finger at me.

Her playful smile drew me in.  She met me halfway and sweetly pressed her lips to mine.

“Hurry back or you’ll miss the rest of the movie,” she said, trailing her fingers along my jaw.

“I’d rather stay here and skip the movie and the food.”

“Ha.  You’re only saying that because you’re distracted from how hungry you are.  Go.  I’ll be here when you get back.”

 

Chapter 18

The food wasn’t ready when I arrived.  Since I was a few minutes early, I didn’t mind.  As soon as I had the food and paid, I left the restaurant and jogged back toward the hotel.

“Emmitt,” Grey called from the shadows across the street.

I slowed and waited for them.  Carlos was stoic as usual, but he was scanning the area around us as they reach my side.

“Just getting back?  I thought you two were using a rental.”  We started toward the lobby doors.

“We were,” Grey said, looking serious.  “Any trouble here?”

“No.  Why?”

“We were halfway here when we discovered we were being followed.  We left the car and took a cab around town to lose him.”

I frowned.  So Blake had been watching the house, then.

The sharp smell of chlorine irritated my nose as soon as I stepped into the lobby.  Yet, underneath, I caught the scent of blood.

“Shit,” I said softly, bursting into a run while my heart tried to hammer its way out of my chest.  Around the corner, I spotted my open door.  Despair gripped me; I knew she wasn’t inside.  When I reached the door, I stopped.  There was blood smeared on the white jam.  Hers.  Still wet.

The plastic bag of food clasped in my hand fell to the floor.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t think.  All I could do was stare at Michelle’s blood.  I’d told her she would be safe.

Carlos moved past us, grabbed a washcloth from the sink just inside the door, and wiped off the blood.  Grey picked up the food and set it inside.

“Let’s find her, son,” Grey said.  There was worry in his gaze but determination, too.

Blake wouldn’t kill Michelle.  He’d had her for four years.  He wanted her back for her premonitions.  But, I wouldn’t let him have her.

Curling my hands into fists, I inhaled, ignoring the sting of chlorine.  I took off running again, following the scent of Michelle’s blood.  Dark drops dotted the carpet here and there as I ran toward the far exit.  Just outside, the heavy scent of exhaust clouded the air.  Whoever had taken her had used a car.

I inhaled deeply again, searching for Michelle’s trail.  It would have been impossible to follow, but I caught the scent of her blood again, mingling lightly with the exhaust.

Growling, I sprinted down the street, uncaring who might see me.  Only Michelle mattered.

Her scent crossed side streets then turned onto a main thoroughfare.  I slowed, having a harder time following her trail.  Then I lost her scent completely at an intersection with another main road.

“No,” I growled, looking around in panic.

“Easy, Emmitt,” Grey said.  “He came from this way.”  He pointed behind us.  “With three of us, we can split up and try to pick up her scent in each direction.  We’ll find something.”  He clapped a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded and took off toward the left.

Stay in contact,
Grey sent me.

Nothing yet,
I reported back.

I moved slower, not because I cared if the humans saw me moving fast, but because I didn’t want to miss Michelle’s scent.  Cars zipped by, adding more exhaust to the already contaminated trail.  I was starting to panic when I caught a hint of something.  Stopping, I inhaled.  It was barely there.  Ahead was an intersection with lights.  I crossed the streets, dodging between cars and ignoring honking horns.  On the other side, Michelle’s scent grew stronger.

Got her,
I sent Grey, along with the street name.

We’ll be right there.

I took off at a run again.  Pockets of her scent kept me moving.  Worry ate at my confidence.  Her scent trail was breaking apart.  How would I find her if I hit another intersection like the last one?

The sun continued its slow descent, and the buildings around me cast longer shadows with each passing minute.  In a pocket void of Michelle’s scent, I picked up another scent that slowed my steps.  Werewolves.

A man stepped from the shadowed alley between two buildings.  He grinned at me before retreating out of sight.

Grey, I found a wolf.  He’s luring me into an alley.  He brought friends.

So did you.  We’re right behind you.

As I stepped toward the alley opening, I controlled a partial shift.  My teeth and mouth elongated, and my nails hardened and curved into claws.

The narrow alley was filled with trash bins, cardboard, and other debris.  At the end, the space opened up into a small, vacant parking area accessed by a neighboring alley.  Three men stood between me and that alley.  From a fire escape above, a man dropped into the narrow alley I’d just left.  Only a few feet separated us, and I turned to face him.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said.  “She’s not yours.”

“That’s my line,” I said a second before I threw my first punch.

He moved fast, ducking under the punch.  But, not fast enough to avoid my left swing.  He grunted and faltered a step as my fist met his cheek.  Behind me, the other three moved in.  One caught me in the ribs with a fist, and another wrapped an arm around my neck.  I stepped back into him and used his weight and my momentum to bring him forward, over my shoulder, to crash into one of his friends.  As the two tumbled to the ground, one of the other mutts wrapped his arms around mine, pinning them behind me.  His partner laughed and showed his claws.  I jumped up and kicked out, planting my feet in his chest.  He staggered back, as did the man holding me.  I wrenched an arm free and grabbed a handful of hair of the man still gripping my arm.

Yanking his head down, I brought my knee up to meet it.  His nose crunched and he fell to the ground.

Claws raked my ribs, and I spun with an outward kick that missed my attacker.  The other two were up and circling me as well.  They moved as one, coming at me.  A fist crashed into my jaw as I blocked claws from my gut.

Carlos burst into the fight, blocking a kick one of them had directed between my legs.

The men pulled back.

“Thank you,” I panted.

“Jim mentioned you were having a problem with blocking those,” Grey said with a chuckle as he nudged me back.  “Go.  We’ve got this.”

The man on the ground wasn’t moving.  Two against three were poor odds.  For them.

I turned and ran back down the alley, going in the direction I’d been heading.  Michelle’s scent continued to tease me in spots and disappear in others.  Five blocks further, the scent of her blood grew stronger at an intersection.  Just two buildings to the left of it, I saw a motel and a rusted-out car parked in front of one of the rooms.

Jogging across the road, her scent only became clearer.  Blood smeared the back panel of the car.  Her blood.  I moved toward the motel room door and heard the low murmur of a man’s mocking voice.

Rage filled me.  Thrusting my arm forward, I ripped the strike plate and bolt from the jam and the door flew inward.  A man stood midway between me and Michelle.  Her ankles were zip-tied to the chair and her hands bound in her lap.  A smear of blood across her cheek stood out starkly against her pale face.

I shifted my attention to the man and let my claws come forward.

He loosened his stance to a semi-crouch and rolled his shoulders.  Spotty patches of fur erupted from his skin and the tips of his increasingly pointy ears.  One leg started to transform, the thigh shortening while the foot elongated.

He had no control over his change.

I let my canines emerge and my mouth extend just enough to use them.

“Your mistake was her blood,” I said as I lunged at the man who’d taken my Mate.

I grabbed the mutt by the shoulders and pulled him in for a head-butt.  As he staggered back on his uneven legs, I lashed toward his chest.  He leapt out of the way, but not fast enough.  Red lines marked where I’d raked his skin.

We circled each other.  He eyed my stance and feinted a few times, trying for an opening that didn’t exist.  I saw the moment he realized he wasn’t going to walk away.  He snarled and came straight at me.  Ducking under his swing, I slashed the skin of his exposed sides with my claws.  Four bloody furrows erupted.  The man swore.  His control slipped further, and his feet fully sprouted claws and fur.  Desperation lit his eyes, and he glanced at the door.

“They aren’t coming,” I said, striking again.  Swipe after swipe, my nails sank deep into his skin.  One strike brought me close enough that I could smell Michelle on him.  I lost it and sank my teeth into his shoulder.  He howled in pain.

“People are coming,” Michelle said.

I nodded, blocked the weak swing he made with his left forearm, and drove my fist into his face.  There was a satisfying crack as the man’s head whipped back.

“Tell Blake she’s mine,” I said as his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell.

I turned with a burst of speed and slammed the door shut on the three men who were halfway across the parking lot.  The latch wouldn’t hold, but there was a bolt lock above it that still worked.  I shoved it into place and turned toward Michelle.

Her hands were darker than her arms, the zip tie too tight.  The force of ripping through it with a claw would likely hurt her more.  Outside, someone started pounding on the door.  The distant wails of sirens reached me.  We didn’t have much time.  She was already so hurt, though.  I swore and knelt beside her.  Leaning forward, I gently used my teeth to separate the plastic.

The mutt on the floor behind me groaned.

“Hurry, Emmitt.  I think he’s waking up.”

The pounding on the door stopped, and the sirens grew louder.  The plastic band popped free, and I moved to the ones around her ankles.  Unable to take the same time to remove them gently, I used a claw.  Michelle winced, but said nothing.

I stood and pulled aside the faded, blue curtains covering the back window.  There was nothing but swamp and trees back there.  But for how far?

Michelle stood and moved beside me as I slid open the window.  I popped out the screens just as the sirens died.  Before I could offer her my hand, she turned and shuffled toward Frank.  It was the first look I had of the back of her head.  Dried blood caked her hair.  I pulled back my lips in a silent snarl and looked at the man on the floor.  The urge to kill him rode me hard.  Michelle bent down, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a phone.

The man twitched and I took a step forward until I realized he was shifting back to human, too broken to maintain his fur.  He opened one eye and looked at Michelle.

“Don’t try this again,” she said.  “I choose who I Claim.  Not you.”

She stood, and I moved back to the window.

“You’re not the only one,” the man rasped before closing his eyes again.

We’re outside,
Grey sent. 
Police are at the door.  I hope you’re not in there.

Leaving out the back window now.

I scooped Michelle up into my arms.  She flinched, and I hated myself for what she would likely have to endure until I found us somewhere safe.

She looped her arms around my neck and buried her face against my chest a moment before I jumped out the window.  I ran fast, blazing a trail through the swamp before the door in the hotel flew open.

Head east,
Grey said over our link. 
I’ll watch the hotel, and Carlos is circling back to check on the four we left in the alley.  Let me know if you run into any problems.

The little daylight that had remained when I’d stepped into the hotel vanished in the trees.  I didn’t need it to know east, though.  Skirting another area of trees, I slowed my pace and jogged out onto a sidewalk.

Streetlights were intermittent, and I stuck to the shadows to avoid attention.  Michelle didn’t move much in my arms.  Her scent was a mixture of that musty hotel room, her blood, and the fetid smell of the mutt who’d taken her.  Before I could take her somewhere safe, I needed to clean her up.

I slowed when I spotted a trashy looking hotel.  It was small and advertised rooms by the hour.

I’m renting a room with cash and cleaning her up.  After that, we need a place to stay.  She needs rest.

The man you left behind managed to climb out the window before the police caught him.  I tailed him back to our first hotel, but I didn’t follow him inside.  I’m watching him to see where he goes next.  Carlos is with me.  The other four went fur and took to the woods. I let your father know what’s happening.  Call Winifred’s phone.  They’re waiting.  They can make new room arrangements under someone else’s name.

He thought that the men who’d come after us already knew what names we’d used for the hotel.

All right.  Thank you, Uncle Grey.

Stay safe.

Shifting Michelle’s weight to one arm, I freed the other to open the door.  Inside, the place was just as bad as where she’d been taken.  The original color of the carpet was buried under layers of dirt.

I carried Michelle to the front desk, unwilling to let her down.

The man behind the counter eyed me then Michelle.  It was probably because of the blood on her cheek.

“We need a room for an hour,” I said.  “I need soap and a towel.  A clean one.”  I placed money on the desk, and the man nodded before reaching under the counter and setting out the things I had requested.

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