Keeping Secret: Secret McQueen, Book 4 (19 page)

I grunted and shoved him off me. The wolves dragged two sheets of plywood over the mouth of the hole, and Holden and I were cast into total darkness. It didn’t matter, there wasn’t much I wanted to look at in the pit anyway, and I could see Holden well enough since he was right next to me.

“So…” he started, but couldn’t find anything else to say.

“Yeah. I want to say something clever, make this whole thing a big laugh, but it’s kind of hard when a bunch of savages want to turn me into their incubator right after they eat you.”

“Look on the bright side,” he suggested.

“There’s a bright side?”

“Sure. Daylight is coming. Maybe they’ll lift up the roof and we’ll just be burned to death.”

He was right, I could feel sunrise coming. It whispered in my ear and tugged at my eyelids. “Maybe we can dig into the side of the hole?” I paced our prison, testing the walls. The dirt was wet, and though it would be easy enough to dig into, I didn’t know how far we’d get before water from the swamp started filling the pit. If we didn’t drown, it would force us into the sunlight where we’d die anyway. He would turn to ash within minutes, whereas my skin would bubble and burst, covered with agonizing burns until the pain did me in.

Boy did I like our odds.

I sat next to Holden and rested my head on his shoulder. He’d removed his jacket, and now that I was close, he laid it across my lap as a makeshift blanket.

“I won’t let them touch you,” he promised.

“I know.” I looped my arm under his and breathed in the familiar scent of his skin. “And if there’s a way out of this, I swear we’ll find it.”

“I know.”

The lies people tell each other when hope runs out are the easiest to believe. If words are all you have, what else can you do but hang on to them?

Sunrise came, and I felt Holden sag under my touch, now unreachable as he slept the worry-free sleep of the dead. I brushed his hair back from his forehead and placed a kiss in the wake of my fingers. It had been at least twenty-four hours since I’d fed, maybe more. If you could count the rabbits and possums I’d fed on in the woods during my walks a real meal. A year ago there would have been no way for me to fight the daylight sleep without a bellyful of fresh blood.

But I was Tribunal now.

I was so exhausted my bones felt like they’d turned to liquid. If forced to fight in this condition, I could do about as much damage as a rabid chipmunk. Sleep wasn’t an option, though. Sleeping would leave Holden defenseless, and if I awoke at dusk to find him gone—killed during the daylight hours while I slept—I would never forgive myself.

I pulled him flush to me, letting his cheek rest against my breasts, nearer than I would have ever let him get under normal circumstances. Right now it was different, though, since he was dead to the world and it made me feel better to have him close.

Day burned bright, and the sounds of the camp filtered down to me. I listened while I rubbed my thumbnail into the shortened lifeline on my left hand, cursing Fate out loud for not letting me make my own choice.

I waited. For death, for freedom, I wasn’t sure. All I could do was wait for the nightmare to end.

Chapter Twenty-Six

It might have been a coincidence, but when night fell and Carn still hadn’t shown up at the camp, I chose to think the Fates had heard my curses. First my strength began to return ounce by ounce. I was still hungry, and not at the top of my form, but every inch farther below the horizon the sun moved, the stronger I became.

When night came roaring into the
Loups-Garous
camp, Holden awakened and I was no longer alone.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“They left us alone?”

“Not for long.” I pointed to the plywood ceiling where a chorus of whoops and howls announced the arrival of something or someone important. Either they’d been delivered another—more willing—baby-making machine, or Carn had arrived.

The plywood was pulled back, and several curious faces peered over the edge. Mohawk’s smiling mouth started moving, but it took a second for me to hear him. “Bet you thought we’d forgotten about you, Spitfire.”

“I could only dream of being so lucky.”

“Oh, you’re about to get plenty lucky, don’t you worry.”

I made a gagging noise. “If you’re offering yourself, I’d rather try my luck somewhere else.”

A booming voice replied, “My, what a mouth on this one.” The wolf who had to be Carn appeared next to Mohawk. Their leader was so broad across the chest it would take two of me to hug him. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he was grinning at me in a way that might make a lesser woman’s panties melt.

If he’d had a shower at some point in the last six years, that is.

“The triumphant return of the great leader,” I greeted with a sneer.

“It isn’t often we get a lost wolf out here, little one. What a treat.” His voice was low and boomed with such volume he must have lungs the size of a furnace. I bet he could howl like a motherfucker in his wolf form.

“You’ll be in for a real treat when I get up there.” The words could be mistaken for innuendo if not for the venom in my tone.

“Girl, you are a spirited animal. Do you know what I do with animals who have too much spirit?”

I didn’t answer.

“I break them.”

“I have a proposition for you, Carnie.”

The wolf had probably expected me to quake in my boots at his threat, but my boots weren’t made for quaking. And I remembered what Holden had said on the riverbank. With wolves it all comes down to two things, pride and power. Feral wolves were no different than pack wolves when it came to that. If pride goeth before the fall, I was going to make Carn fall hard.

He regained his composure. “You may speak.”

“You and I are going to fight.”

Carn began to howl with laughter. “I
do
like a little fight in my women. It isn’t fun when they just lay there.”

“No, you misunderstand the proposal. You and I are going to fight…and if I win, you will give my companion and me a boat and safe passage.”

He started to protest, but then gave me a once-over and laughed again. “And when I win?”

“Well, then, I guess I’m all yours.”

“What if I say no and take you anyway?”

“Then your men will always wonder if it was because you were afraid to be beaten by a girl.” It was the oldest goad of all time aside from “are you chicken?” but I crossed my arms and stared hard at the giant man, knowing it was only a matter of time before he caved.

“What are you doing?” Holden asked in a whisper so low it was as though he hadn’t spoken at all.

“I’m going to kick his ass, and then we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

“Secret, he’s huge.”

I shushed him. I knew very well that size was an illusion when it came to measuring strength. Sure, Carn was a mountain, and I was a mouse. But I still believed I’d kick his ass into next week. I had rage on my side, and he underestimated me in every way.

“I don’t want to bruise you
before
the sex,” Carn suggested, the wolves at his side snickering.

“Think of it as tenderizing.”

Mohawk let out a low whistle.

Carn’s face twisted, exposing his true feelings about my sassy mouth. I was making a fool of him, and he appreciated it about as much as I liked being caged in a dirt hole.

“Bring her. The man stays.” With those words he vanished.

It wasn’t that I was doubting my decisions per se, but when I was standing on one end of a hard-packed dirt circle and looking at Carn from eye level, well, I was less cocky than I’d been inside the pit. He was at least six and a half feet tall and even bigger up close than he’d appeared from within the pit. His body was a mass of hard-toned muscle with arms as big around as my waist.

“You’re a big boy,” I commented.

“In every way.” He grabbed his crotch with one hand in case I hadn’t figured out what his words meant.

“I’ve found that men who need to brag about the size of their cocks are usually the ones with the tiniest packages.” I’d struck my first blow and I didn’t even need to throw a punch.

He growled. “Well, I’ve found that bitches with loud mouths are usually the first to choke on my
tiny package
.”

Ewww.

I’d removed my jacket and stretched my bare arms. I’d replaced my favorite yellow tank top recently, and it looked like I was about to ruin another one. Blood was such a bitch to get out of brights.

“If you’re just going to stand there and talk at me all night, I’m going to think you’ve got a pussy under there. What’s the matter, Carn. Got your monthlies? Aunt Flo in town? I know…cramps can be such a bit—”

Carn weighed about two hundred and eighty pounds. That was the best estimate I could give when he threw all of his weight into me at a run and sent me flying across the circle and into the woods.

The wolves howled their approval. My ribs groaned in protest as I staggered to my feet, thanking me for what was likely a hairline fracture. Bones healed. My ribs would have to suck it up. Rotating my shoulders to keep the pain from making me stiff, I walked back into the circle. The wolves stopped howling. Guess they’d thought I was down for the count.

“Was that the best you’ve got, big boy?” I danced from foot to foot, prepared for the next attack. “My grandmother throws harder hits than you.”

This time I saw him coming. He ran at me with his arms extended outward like a battering ram, bent at the elbows so they wouldn’t lock when he collided with his target. I’d give him credit, the man knew how to fight.

I leaped up when he was within range, landing on his rigid arms as if they were a springboard. Before he had a chance to drop me, I pulled my foot back and kicked him square in the face. I tucked in a low crouch while he swung blindly for me, blood spraying from his broken nose.

While he stomped around like a misguided Godzilla, trying to crush me under his massive feet, I swept my leg into his knees and brought him crashing into the dirt. I was feeling cocky now, but not stupid. I wanted to hop on his chest and declare the fight over, but I knew he wouldn’t give up that easily.

Sure enough, he clambered to his feet with a roar and lashed out with a hard left hook, feinting halfway through the swing when I dodged, and slamming his right fist into me with an uppercut that sent me flying.

I got up, wiping blood off my busted lip. “That’s more like it.”

“I am going to enjoy crushing your spirit, little girl.”

I cracked my neck, and the tendons sighed with relief from the flood of endorphins. If I had my knife, this would all be over. Even a mammoth like him would stay down if I severed his Achilles. I stretched out my fingers and assessed the distance between myself and his bare feet. I was strong, but my nails were trimmed short, and I didn’t know if I could claw through the skin before he yanked me off and threw me into the next parish.

So his heel was out, and I wasn’t going to best him with a facial beating.

There was one obvious way to bring this son of a bitch to his knees and have him screaming uncle. It felt weak, like a cheat, but I didn’t have time to trade jabs with him all night. I had a teenaged werewolf to find and a fucking wedding to get back on schedule.

I ran straight for him with breakneck speed. He reached out to snatch me mid-run, but within inches of his eager fingers I hit the ground like a ballplayer desperate for home plate and slid beneath his open hands and in between his legs.

He hadn’t been full of shit when he said he was packing huge equipment in his briefs, because his balls were so big they didn’t fit in the palm of my hand. Oh well, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. That saying had never been truer than when I had an Alpha werewolf by the nuts and was squeezing them so hard I could feel the sensitive tissues rupturing more and more with each moment.

Carn howled, and there was nothing triumphant about it. He whimpered and crashed to the earth, but I still didn’t release my hold.

“My friend and I go free,” I said, crushing a little harder for emphasis.

He wailed, a high-pitched, pitiful sound.

“Your word.” When he didn’t reply immediately, I screamed, “
Give me your fucking word
.”

“My word. Go.” Tears were streaming down his red cheeks, and he was curling in on himself like a sleepy baby.

I let him go, and it took all my respect for the rules of a fair fight to not kick the bastard in his ruined testicles. Insult to injury wouldn’t do me any good here. Nor would his word. At best I’d bought Holden and myself a head start.

I ran from the circle back to the pit. Sure enough, I’d barely dragged Holden from the hole before I heard Carn’s raspy voice scream.

“
Kill them.
Make it hurt.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Going back the way we’d come was out of the question. There had been no exit from the island, no escape route, so when I grabbed Holden and screamed, “
Run
,” it was deeper into the woods we fled. We couldn’t escape their noses—the
Loups-Garous
would chase us until we were caught—and if that happened, I doubted Carn would let me barter with him again.