His Wolf (Wolf of My Heart) (23 page)

"Who's going to stop us?
Your boyfriend?
Don't think so, sweetie." Buzz Cut grinned.
"
Yo
,
Mav
.
Where'd you shoot her guy?"

"Right in the heart," said the man I didn't know.

Buzz Cut hooted. "More like in the belly, hot shot, but it doesn't really matter, does
it.
He's bled out by now for sure."

They all laughed, which made me sick to my stomach. This whole thing was a joke to them, and their cruelty shocked me. I don't know why. I'd been around one of their kind for
eighteen miserable months and would still be with him if the
Corteggio
hadn't rescued me. My breath caught in my throat.

The
Corteggio
…not Danu, my goddess ancestor.

I suddenly remembered standing face-to-face with her in that conference room, trying to verbalize a question about just that. Though I'd been too rattled to do it at the time, my thoughts were crystal clear now, and I wanted to know why Danu hadn't rescued me from The Arm sooner. Was it because I'd never asked her for help? It wasn't as if I'd even known she existed.

But I could ask now. And the help I wanted first was help for Erik.
Please Danu. Save him.
I'll be okay.

But would I really? "Why am I here?"

Red walked over to me, a knife in his hand, and cut the plastic ties binding my wrists and ankles. "We have needs."

I tried to rub the feeling back into them. "Sexual needs?"

Though most of them laughed at me,
Mav
just sneered. "I do have a thing for gingers."

My stomach knotted. Red took pity on me. "Your status as new member of this pack protects you from unwanted advances." He shook his head.
"Can't believe Yarbrough turned you.
It
was
him, wasn't it?"

I nodded, not one bit comforted by this supposed rule. It sure hadn't stopped Yarbrough from attacking. "I really need to pee."

Red jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom. I scurried out of there and shot down the hall. After I did my thing, I washed my face and hands. My reflection in the mirror showed me a pale, frightened girl where an amazing Celtic goddess should've been. I thought of the powers Danu had hinted I might have. If I was truly gifted, how could I tap into them?

I held up my hands and examined each finger. Every fanciful being I'd ever read about or seen did things with their hands. Could I, maybe, throw a fiery plasma ball? I focused really hard, forming imaginary energy into an invisible orb with my hands. Then I threw it.

Nothing.

I was barking up the wrong dang tree.

"Hey!"

I jumped.

"What are you doing in there?"

I yanked the door open.
"Wiping my ass, if you must know."
I slipped past Blondie and headed for the living room. "Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Up there." He pointed to an exposed loft just above the wide-open second level that covered fully half of the cabin. I thought I glimpsed the corner of a bed.

"I don't suppose you have any girl-type clothing around. Or am I going to be wearing this for the rest of my life?" I glanced down at my
blingy
jeans and those ridiculous wedges.

Red caught
Mav's
eye. "Get her backpack."

So they'd brought it along, minus, no doubt, the clothes I'd washed, dried, and left neatly folded on the dryer. But a quick peek into the bag
Mav
soon thrust at me revealed they'd brought all my things plus some of Erik's, too. After slinging one of the straps over my shoulder, I crossed the room and began to climb the wooden ladder that would take me to the second floor. From there, I ascended into the loft.

As prisons went, this one wasn't half bad since it actually evoked some pleasant memories. First thing, I looked out the window, hoping for a tree that might provide me a way to the ground. There wasn't one, and my loft was so far up I'd never be able to jump. Suddenly exhausted, I kicked off my wedges and lay on top of the blanket covering my bed. Everything would look different in the morning, when the world was brighter both literally and figuratively.

****

But Sunday dawned dark with charcoal gray storm clouds spitting snow.

"Bronte! Get down here now!"

With a groan, I rolled out of bed. I didn't bother changing outfits. Yesterday's clothing would do just fine except for the shoes. I dug my Nikes and a pair of socks from my backpack, pausing to bury my face in Erik's
Sasparilla
Sam T-shirt. Oh, how I wished I hadn't washed it, but I had, so I got nothing for my trouble but the smell of Tide.

Goddess Danu, are you helping my Erik? How else will he save me? Or am I supposed to save myself?

"Bronte!"

"Coming!"
I climbed down the ladder and found Red, who was definitely the leader, waiting on me.  That meant his real name was Whit Wilson, not that I'd ever admit I knew it.

"I've made a list of things you need to do today."

"Well, I hope that a visit to the bathroom is first on it. I have to wash up."

"Then be quick about it."

I rolled my eyes, making sure he could see the defiance. If I'd learned anything at all from my months in captivity, it was how to treat a
Were
. They respected sass.
Liked it even.
I had to hold my own no matter how mentally exhausting it was.

After a quick visit to the toilet, I swished somebody's mouthwash and then spit. I finger combed my hair, which was a tangled mess, washed the goo from my eyes, and smoothed my wrinkled clothing as best I could. Without so much as a glance in the mirror, I then went back to the living area where six guys had now congregated.

"So where's this list?"

Red slapped a piece of paper in my hand.

I read what was on it: (1) Have  breakfast cooked by 7:00--enough for whoever is around (don’t forget the guards), (2) clean the cabin, (3) have lunch ready at noon--enough for whoever is around (don't forget the guards), (4) set up the pack bank accounts on the computer, (5) create a spread sheet of completed jobs, (6) set up a payroll system, (7) have dinner ready by 8:00--enough for whoever shows up (don't forget the guards). "There are only twenty-four hours in a day, Red."

"What'd you call me?"

"Red."

He just stared.

"Duh.
Because of your hair?
Oh! Is that what they call you, too?" I swept my hand to include the
Weres
lounging everywhere, seven in all. "Trust
me,
I don't want to know anyone's name, okay? So I should definitely give each of you a new one. I'll stick with Red for you. I've already named Buzz Cut and Blondie. You're calling
him
Mav
, so--"

"Maverick.
My name is Maverick."

"Maverick, then."
I walked over to an older man with white hair pulled back in a ponytail and a scruffy chin.
"Gramps for you."
I heard some chuckles as I moved to the next
Were
, who was probably in his thirties and pretty easy to look at. "You're going to be Blue Eyes, and you--" I directed my gaze to the last occupant of the room, a guy with the thickest neck and biggest arms I'd ever seen. "Guns, I think."

Was it my imagination, or was the mood of the room lighter?

"What are we supposed to call you?" asked Gramps with a chuckle.

I pretended to think about his question.
"Snow White?"

A couple of the
Weres
hooted, clearly getting my pathetic joke. I figured they had kids at home.

"Her name's Bronte," said Red, ending the levity. "Kitchen's over there." He gave me a little push in that direction.

I counted the guys and myself and added four more since I knew there were guards outside.
Breakfast for twelve, coming right up.
It took a few minutes for me to find my way around the kitchen, but I soon had bacon on the griddle, eggs in a skillet, and biscuits in the oven.  The men ate shortly after--four at the table and the rest in the den area. I ate mine standing up, leaning against the kitchen counter. One-by-one
Weres
finished and left, some to relieve the guards outside.

Once everyone had eaten, Red motioned for me to sit at the table. He sat across from me. "I think you know there always four
Weres
guarding the cabin, so don't even think about trying to escape. I expect you to do what you're told when you're told with no lip. You're familiar with our organization, which makes you an asset, but you're not indispensible. Make too much trouble, and we're done."

"You'll send me home?" I asked, though I knew better.

He wasn't amused. "I'll put you, your dad, and his brand new wife six feet under just like your boyfriend."

Though I refused to believe Erik was dead, Red's melodramatic answer told me all I needed to know: Same
Freakin
' Nightmare, Act Two. "What about the
Corteggio
?"

"What about it?"

"They've taken an interest in me; they see more than you realize."

"Then why aren't they breaking down the doors?"

Good question. I had no answer. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"As long as I want you to."
Red got nose-to-nose with me. "We're lifers, and whether or not you want to be, you are, too." He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "You'd better get to work." Red scooted back his chair and left the cabin. As the door swung shut behind him, I realized it was snowing hard.

Finally alone, I immediately grabbed the butcher knife I'd seen in one of the drawers. Thought it wasn't that sharp, I took it straight upstairs and tucked it under my pillow before straightening my bed and checking out the contents of the backpack, which I'd only half done the night before. Shaking out my clothes, I refolded them and hung a few things on some wall pegs that were all I had in the way of a closet.

That done, I went downstairs and cleaned up the kitchen.
There was a dishwasher; I used it. I also swept the floors before moving on to the den area, trash bag in hand. These
Weres
were slobs, I quickly realized. Beer cans and cigarette butts littered the side tables and floor. The hearth obviously hadn't been cleaned out in years. A thick film of ash and dust coated every surface in the vast room. I sneezed and sneezed as I dusted and vacuumed the entire cabin, which consisted of the standard den-kitchen-dining room combo, an office, a bedroom, and a bath on the first floor. The second floor, completely open and visible from the first, held numerous bunks, which I eventually straightened. Above that was my loft room with its sloped ceiling.

Noon rolled around way too soon, but I was prepared for it. A stew pot of vegetable soup simmered on the electric stove by the time the
Weres
began showing up. Since I'd lived separately from my former pack members, I had to guess how things worked in a den such as this one. I suspected the cabin was a sort of weekend lodge to the
Weres
, most of whom probably lived double lives. I wondered what they told their families. Did the parents, wives, girlfriends, and children of these guys think their men were hunting? And would things be different tomorrow, the first day of the work week?