Erotica/Romance. 74621 words long.
Chapter Ten
It took Shilo a while to figure out why she felt like hell when she woke up. She'd slept late, again, she realized first as she lay listening to the noises of the house that were so unfamiliar, squeezing her eyes against the bright light that evaded the attempts of both window shade and curtains to stab into her eyelids like laser beams. It was too bright to be early morning. Not that she was an early riser by most people's standards. She didn't have a clock to punch so she didn't have to rise before day, or just after daybreak, but she never slept very late either because she never stayed up really late.
It was while she was trying to figure out how late she'd stayed up the night before to account for her late awakening that she remembered the drink. And it was all down hill from there.
Humiliation washed through her in tides. Lifting an arm, she draped it over her face. “God! Kill me now!"
Unfortunately, He didn't see fit to strike her down, which didn't surprise her. He never had before.
"Please tell me I didn't really beg him to fuck me last night,” she muttered, rifling her memories after a few moments, although she'd resolutely crammed them as far back into her mind as she could when she'd remembered kissing him. And there it was, ‘the memory'.
She had, and he'd politely but resolutely said no.
She rolled onto her belly and dragged her pillow over her head, wanting to cry, scream, curse. She did all three, inside, and none aloud.
Upon reflection, she realized she should have just high-tailed it to hide in her room with the first prick of embarrassment over her spoiled meal. If she'd just tucked her tail between her legs and run and hid then she could've saved herself the ultimate humiliation—offering herself sexually and being turned down. Oh the agony of it!
Julie knocked on her door and opened it. “I've got lunch almost ready. Hungry?"
Shilo considered feigning sleep. She also considered telling Julie she was on a hunger strike and never intended to eat again. “I'll be down in a minute."
The door closed again. If she'd thought there was any chance in hell of going back to sleep and blocking out the world even for a little while longer, she would've tried it. Unfortunately, she was wide awake now, and the more awake she was, the more she remembered.
It was a garbled mess, though. She wasn't certain how much was because of that damned screw driver—how aptly named!—and how much was from lust. Dante had kissed her. She remembered he had. She just couldn't remember what had set it off. She supposed it didn't really matter that she couldn't. Or maybe it was a blessing that she couldn't? Maybe she'd been feeling him up or something like that? She must have gotten too familiar somehow. Otherwise why would he have kissed her to start with?
Unless he'd had a little too much to drink himself and it had made him as uninhibited by reason as it had her? Except he hadn't been so far gone that he'd completely forgotten there was a reason why he didn't ‘indulge’ when it came to human females.
She couldn't remember too much about what he'd said, either. He'd apologized. She remembered that pretty sharply. He'd pried her off of him and apologized. She remembered that with painful clarity, too. And he'd said something about her being mad with him in the morning when he'd brought her to her room and left her.
She wasn't pissed though. She was ungodly embarrassed. She'd been all over him, panting and gasping, moaning and groaning, humping his leg! Oh, for crying out loud!
It flickered through her mind to wonder if he'd spiked her drink with something. Alas, she had to dismiss that as an excuse. He wouldn't have spiked her drink and then left her high and dry.
She got up finally because she knew Julie would be back to try to roust her out of the bed again.
That thought sparked another tide of embarrassment. Julie had taken the children upstairs to get them ready for bed before the attempted rape downstairs, but had she come back down? Or had she only done
that
in front of the other guys?
Were they all laughing their asses off at how easy she'd been? What was it she'd heard guys call booze? Pussy lube?
Oh, it had lubed hers!
Actually, Dante had already lubed it just by being so damned sexy. The alcohol had just eliminated her common sense.
She dragged out her morning ritual as long as she could, but she knew she was going to have to face Julie no matter how much she wanted to avoid it. Bracing herself for anything, she left the room and went downstairs, wondering if Julie would giggle and laugh about the episode or decide to lecture her about her x-rated visit when the children were still romping around upstairs and could've seen the whole thing.
Julie looked her over searchingly as she reached the kitchen, smiling tentatively. “How're you doing this morning?"
Shilo managed a wan smile of relief, deciding Julie either didn't know, or she was willing to
pretend
she didn't know—which was almost as good. “I've still got a touch of that headache,” she mumbled. She didn't, but she thought she could feel it coming on as she sat down and tried to pretend she was interested in eating.
She hadn't properly appreciated the children before, she realized. They were so busy chattering to each other and asking for more of this and more of that, that it not only made conversation between her and Julie impossible, it made it completely unnecessary for her to attempt to talk.
Tuning them out, she focused on building her embarrassment into a mountain of distress and paranoia until she'd arrived at the conclusion that she was
never
going to be able to face Dante again. She couldn't just
pretend
she hadn't done anything. She knew he'd been a lot more in possession of his facilities than she had been or he wouldn't have fended her off.
Julie studied her sympathetically as they cleaned up the after meal disaster. “You should take another dose of that painkiller,” she suggested finally.
"Actually,” Shilo said, “I think I'll just take a walk and clear my head. That usually does it for me, and it looks like a nice day."
Julie sent her a piercing look, which made Shilo uneasy since she thought she'd achieved just the right tone and expression to seem completely off hand. “You know Dante doesn't want you going far. He hasn't caught that rogue yet."
Shilo managed a smile. The rogues were the least of her concern at the moment. She couldn't focus on anything beyond escaping the scene of her ‘crime'. “I won't go far."
When she'd finished helping Julie in the kitchen, she went back upstairs to change. Closing the door behind her, she drew in a shaky breath, considered for a moment if she really wanted to do what she'd thought about while she was eating and decided she did. She didn't owe any of them anything, not even an explanation. She'd agreed to stay because Dante had persuaded her to—because she knew now, in the back of her mind, she'd hoped to get laid—but she didn't have to.
Moving to her suitcase, she dragged out a change of clothes—a pair of lightweight slacks and a knit top because they could be folded compactly—and shoes with two inch heels. Opening the lining of the suitcase, she pulled out her red wig and the cash she'd brought with her and carefully packed all of it her fabric handbag, which was reversible and just big enough to carry what she needed. Large bags were too noticeable. People not only questioned something big enough to carry a lot of stuff, but they tended to remember such a notable detail.
When she'd finished, she resealed the lining, closed the suitcase and put it back where it was before. Taking a few deep cleansing breaths to calm her racing heart, she let herself out of the room and headed downstairs. “Would you like for me to pick anything up at the store while I'm there?” she asked Julie, pausing a moment in the kitchen door.
Julie thought it over. “No. I'll go later."
"You sure?"
Julie smiled. “Positive."
Shilo smiled back at her. “See you."
She didn't look back to see if the man that had been watching the house was behind her. She knew he would be. She kept her walk casual, neither dawdling nor rushing and headed straight to the store, glancing around casually as if she was merely mildly curious about her surroundings. The man followed her into the store, but she'd expected that. She picked up a small shopping basket and placed it on her arm, strolling up first one isle and then down another until she reached the lady's room. Setting the basket down on a counter near the door, she went inside.
There was a woman in the last stall. She went into the first one, quickly removed the clothes and shoes she was wearing and changed into the outfit she'd put in her purse. The wig came next. She adjusted it the best she could without a mirror, listening as the woman in the last stall came out and washed her hands. The outer door opened and another woman came in before the first left.
Good. A little traffic never hurt.
Reversing the purse, she stuffed the clothes she'd had on into the bag, waited for the second woman to go into a stall, flushed the toilet, and headed for the lavatory. After adjusting the wig and tucking in the few stray strands of blond she'd missed, she dabbed bright red lipstick on her lips, then pulled out a bottle of perfume and sprayed herself down good with it.
Lycan or not, she doubted he could smell her personal scent over the perfume. It was strong enough it made her eyes water. Dropping the bottle back in the bag, she pulled out a pair of sunglasses with oversized lenses, strolled out of the bathroom jingling a set of keys, and walked briskly down the nearest isle.
A faint smile curled her lips as she passed the man who'd followed her into the store.
It worked like a charm every time.
* * * *
Dante's expression was grim as he watched the firefighters moving around the building, gathering up equipment and stowing it on the truck.
"Fucking bastards,” Maurice growled. “I'm going to tear that bastard's heart out when I get my hands on the son-of-a-bitch."
Dante slid a narrow eyed glance at him. “Me first,” he said grimly.
"Any idea how much damage there was yet?” Kane asked, having just arrived on the scene.
Dante shrugged. “They haven't let us in yet. Suffice to say this club won't be opening tonight."
"We'll be lucky if we get it open again in a month,” Jessie muttered.
"I already gave Remy Broushard a call. He'll come by this afternoon to assess the damage and let us know how long it'll take."
"What about those rogue bastards?” Kane demanded. “Any luck?"
Dante's lips curled upward in a feral smile. “I figured they'd screw up sooner or later. Billy Rae tracked the bastard back to their lair. He and Gerard are keeping an eye on the place. Fortunately for us, it's remote. We won't have to wait for dark."
"Payback time,” Jessie said and chuckled.
Seeing the Fire Marshall heading their way, Dante pushed away from his SUV and went to meet the man.
"Unfortunately for the rogues,” Maurice muttered with grim satisfaction when Dante had stopped to talk to the man, “Dante's not in a very forgiving mood right now."
"Me either,” Jessie said tightly.
Kane sent him a grim smile. “Yeah,
mon ami
, but you're not having woman troubles."
Maurice shook his head in disgust. “How the hell do you figure that? If Dante's got woman troubles, we've all got woman troubles. We've all got a stake in Shilo."
Kane shrugged. “I ain't got blue balls ... not yet."
"Well ain't you the lucky one,” Jessie snarled. “That din bother you none last night?"
"Not as much as it did him."
"'Cause you slunk off and went to Betty Jean's,” Jessie retorted.
Kane's dark skin reddened. “Dante said we was to watch ourselves and be careful with her. You handle your problem your way. I'll handle mine my way,” he growled.
"You keep messin’ with them whores, Dante ain't gonna let you within spittin’ distance of our girl,
mon ami
."
Kane's lips tightened. “I used a fucking overcoat."
"Even so,” Maurice said grimly. “You know that's not the point. Use your fucking hand. That's why you've got two."
Jessie chuckled at Maurice's reference to Kane's ‘gift'.
Kane glared at both of the other men. “She ain't ours yet."
"Dante says she is."
"And what Dante says
is
,” Maurice agreed, straightening away from the vehicle abruptly as he saw Dante had concluded his talk with the Fire Marshall.
"Get in,” Dante said abruptly when he reached them again. “We're taking the SUV."
"What did the Fire Marshall have to say?” Maurice asked as they took the freeway through town.
"It was arson."
Jessie uttered a derisive chuckle. “And they say he's incompetent!"
"The fucking prick thinks we fired our own club—for the insurance."
"Dumb shit!” Kane growled. “We'll loose more from the club being closed down than the insurance will pay out ...
if
they pay out at all."
"I can handle the heat,” Dante growled, “but that's one more I owe those sons-of-a-bitch."
They parked the SUV in an abandoned warehouse and got out. Stripping, they tossed their clothes into the vehicle and shifted into wolf form. It took them another twenty minutes to reach the run down building at the edge of the industrial park where Billy Rae and Gerard were waiting.
"I was just about to call you,” Gerard said in a low voice when they reached him. “As far as I can tell, the gang's all here."
Dante shifted from wolf to manbeast. “How many?"
"A dozen."
Dante smiled grimly. “That makes us even then. How many doors?"
"This is the way they've been coming in and out. But Billy Rae's watching the two doors on the backside."
"Maurice, you go around back and keep Billy Rae company. I'm going to see if they want to come out and play."
When Maurice had disappeared around the corner of the building, Dante stood up and stepped onto the broken pavement of the parking lot that fronted the building. Half way between the brush where they'd been observing and the door, Dante stopped. “Knock, knock, little pig,” he growled.
He cocked his head, listening to the sudden increase in activity inside the building. Abruptly, the doors shattered outward and two beastmen landed on the pavement. Four more poured out of the building behind them.
Dante's gaze focused on the alpha. Even if he hadn't already mapped the alpha's scent, there would've been no mistaking him. Shilo had given him a hell of a jolt, Dante realized with grim amusement as he stared at the bald patches on the alpha that Shilo had ‘electrolysized'. Uttering a challenging growl, he bounded across the pavement to meet him. Kane, Jessie, and Gerard, who'd been standing slightly behind and to either side of him, bounded forward, as well, engaging the rogues closest to them.
The alpha dropped to his haunches and then sprang upward, trying to bound over Dante and attack him from behind. It was a deadly mistake. Dante leapt upward even as the alpha sailed over him, swiping at him with his claws fully extended and tearing him open from chest to groin. The alpha let out a yelp of pain and then a bellow of rage as he landed on his shoulder and side instead of his feet, rolling over twice before he managed to gain his feet. A second lycan leapt at Dante even as he turned to meet his opponent, slamming into his chest hard enough to drive Dante back several feet. Uttering a growl, Dante clamped his jaws around the lycan's neck, snapping it as he shook the man, and then tossing him aside.
The alpha male slammed into his back as he again tried to turn. Dante hit the pavement with the alpha on top of him, but managed to twist his body as he fell. The alpha clamped his teeth into Dante's back before he could throw him off, coming away with a chunk of flesh as Dante batted at him, clubbing him on the side of his head hard enough to knock him off. Ignoring the pain and the blood he could feel running down his back, Dante scrambled to a half crouch and rammed the man in the belly with his head as he got to his feet and launched himself at Dante again.
Landing on top this time, Dante used his weight to subdue the rogue, shifting himself upward until he was straddling the male's chest and grabbing his arms. “Yield,” Dante snarled, “or die."
The rogue bared his teeth. “You die, mother fucker!” he snarled, trying to buck Dante off and free his arms at the same time.
Gritting his teeth, Dante leaned on the man, slowly but surely bearing his arms downward until he'd forced the rogue's upper arms against the pavement and then bent his forearms to pin them against his upper arms. They were almost nose to nose by that time. “Yield you stupid son-of-a-bitch."
"Go to hell!"
Dante stared speculatively at the man beneath him for a long moment. “You first,” he growled. Rearing upward abruptly, he released his grip on the man's left arm and swiped his claws across the man's throat, severing the jugular. Blood spurted from the severed artery in a fountain. Dante released his grip on the man's other arm and shot to his feet. Standing over him, he watched as the man clamped a hand tightly over the artery, trying to stem the flow of blood.
He stepped away as the man rolled onto his side, trying to rise. “All you had to do was yield,” he growled furiously.
The man coughed, choking on his own blood. “I yield to no one,” he choked out.
Dante's eyes narrowed. “But you did yield,
mon ami
. You yielded your life."
The beastman grinned up at him. “But I took your woman first."
Coldness washed over Dante. Uttering a growl of rage, he leaned down and grabbed the man by the neck, hauling him to his feet. “What do you mean by that, you son-of-a-bitch?” he ground out furiously, shaking the man. “Speak, god damn you!"
The man coughed, spat blood on him, and laughed. “Hope you enjoyed her while you could."
"Where is she?” Dante bellowed.
He saw it was too late to get anything else out of the bastard though. Giving him a furious shake, he flung the body away from him and whirled around. The battle, he saw, had ended. Seven of the rogues lay dead or dying. Maurice and Kane were bent over Gerard, who lay prone in a pool of blood. Jessie and Billy Rae were standing guard over the remainder of the rogue pack, who were cowering against the side of the building. Uttering a howl of rage, Dante charged toward the remainder of the pack, shoving Jessie and Billy Rae aside and grabbing up the first man he came to by the neck. “Where is she?"
The man gaped at him. “I don't know. I swear to god I don't know anything about it."
"Wrong answer, asshole!” Dante ground out. Snapping the rogue's neck, he tossed him aside and grabbed another one up. “My woman, you son-of-a-bitch! Where is she?"
"Howard called somebody. I doan know who,
mon ami.
I swear!"
Dante gritted his teeth and shoved his face closer. “I'm not your friend. I'm your worst nightmare, you piece of shit. Who did he call?"
"He said they wanted her. They'd come get her. That's all I know. He didn't tell me shit! I just overheard him."
"When?” Dante ground. “When did he call?"
"Right after you took her. He said if he couldn't have her he'd make damned sure you didn't get her either."
Flinging the man away, he whirled to where he'd last seen Maurice and Kane and stalked toward them. “Gerard's dead,” Maurice said grimly as he reached them.
Dante dragged in a shuddering breath and stared down at the man at their feet. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. Gerard had been with him ever since he'd taken the territory—been here before even that. They'd been pack brothers and friends.
His gut tightened.
He didn't have time to mourn the man's passing, though. He couldn't afford to think about it right then ... couldn't get his mind to focus on it at all. He couldn't think about anything but Shilo and the fear gnawing at his gut that he was going to lose her, might already have lost her. “I think that son-of-a-bitch called the Feds and gave them Shilo's whereabouts,” he ground out. “We need to get back there."
Maurice's eyes widened in disbelief before his face hardened with fury. “Julie and Jean-Claude will know what to do."
Dante shook his head, trying to fight off a rising sense of panic and think. “Maybe. Fuck! The SUV's miles from here. Anybody got a phone?"