Instead, she lay in his grip and watched as he blinked his eyes open. The dark brown orbs widened as he took her in, and she knew by the dip in his smile when he’d placed her.
“Uh, Abby? What are you doing here?”
Yeah, guys like Utah didn’t do girls like Abby and wasn’t that a shame. She bet she’d be awesome in bed if she had a lover like Utah.
“Abby?”
She shook her less than moral thoughts from her mind and focused on what she should—figuring out where they were and how the hell to get out.
“Utah,” she whispered his name softly. “We need to stay quiet. I don’t want the men to come back.”
He shifted his gaze around. “There are other people here?” He eased her off him and that glorious erection and sat up. He rocked a bit, and she put her shoulder against his side as if she could hold him up by will alone if he started to fall over.
“Whoa. What the fuck? How much did I have to drink?” He held his head as he slowly looked around. “And where the fuck are we?”
“I don’t know.”
He glanced at her, and she felt his eyes taking her measure. For a brief moment, she wished he saw her as more than the nerdy girl who hung out at the bar surrounded by her papers as she munched on nachos and coke. Hell, she didn’t even drink. But she knew all too well what he was seeing. Abby Lane with her unruly mop of curls and faded blue eyes hidden behind the glasses she couldn’t see without. His gaze dropped to her hoodie and baggy jeans, but she dressed for comfort, not to impress. At least, that’s what she told herself.
“Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, Abby.” His eyes pleaded with her, reflecting the hope in his voice.
“You didn’t touch me,” she assured him and swore the relief in his eyes didn’t hurt her pride at all.
He slowly stood up, seemingly not the slightest bit awkward to find himself in only his underwear and sporting some serious wood. Or at least he hadn’t been uncomfortable until he caught her gawking at it.
Jesus, please don’t let her be drooling!
“Ummm, Abby.”
Her gaze slid back up to his, as he leaned down offering her his hand to stand up.
“I need your help here. I’m afraid I’m a little fuzzy. What happened last night? Why are we in a cell?”
She sighed and prayed he didn’t see the guilt in her eyes. She was afraid this was all her fault.
“I’m not sure. I woke up a little before you did. I heard two men talking about giving us some type of drug to knock us out.”
“What the fuck? I’m sorry, Abby. I know I’ve pissed people off. I didn’t think any of them would do anything like this. Was I giving you a ride home or something? Is that how you got dragged into this?”
She shook her head. “The last I remember I was already home.”
Utah stretched and flexed, rotating his shoulders and neck as he worked out any kinks from waking on the hard floor. She couldn’t help admiring the muscles he sported under the creamy café au lait shade of his skin. Had he achieved it from tanning or was it natural? She wanted to think it was natural, that if she tugged those short black boxer briefs off, he’d be just as tan there.
She watched him pace the cell like a caged beast and fell right back into the surge of guilt she was struggling to repress. He thought he was the one who’d pulled her into this. She was sure this was all her fault. Especially when Southy and Whiney had made the lion comment.
Her gaze flickered to his tattoo. She did have a fondness for lions, despite her history. Her hand automatically rubbed her side.
“Hello?” Utah’s voice yelled out, echoing around them as Abby’s eyes darted about in panic.
“Oh, God. Don’t do that! Don’t bring them back. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”
He glanced over at her. She wasn’t sure what he saw, but he reached her side in two steps and wrapped her tight against his chest once more.
“Damn, Abby. You’re shaking like a leaf. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
“You have to listen to me,” she began, but her words died off as she heard the distinct sound of the two men from earlier returning. And someone was with them.
“I thought you got the girl too.”
Two things went through her head at the sound of that voice. Utah’s much bigger body must be shielding her from their view, and she knew that voice.
Oh, God. This was all her fault. She should have never kept digging, searching for answers she had no right to want. She’d brought this on Utah, and no matter which way things turned out, he might never forgive her for it.
Utah turned, keeping her behind him as he faced the men.
“What the hell is going on here? Why are we locked up in here?”
“Abby, you in there, girl?”
She was too terrified to respond when Utah turned around to look at her with powerful arms crossed over his chest and brows lifted in question.
“Abby?” His voice rumbled from his chest as he watched her. “I thought you didn’t know where we are?”
“I don’t,” she swore, but she didn’t blame him for doubting her.
“No one likes a liar. You’ll have to excuse her.” The cell door opened as he continued talking. “I’m Harlan Jones by the way. Abby and I are family.” He laughed and the sound sent a chill down her spine. “I swear, she’d forget her head if it wasn’t attached. Scatter brained. That’s my Abby.”
Utah looked at her again, and she wanted to scream at him for even believing the nonsense her father’s cousin was spewing. If Utah had paid attention to her as she had to him, he would know the words for the lies they were. She forgot nothing. Ever. Eidetic memory, what most people referred to as photographic memory, ensured there was little information she didn’t retain. Even the things she’d love to forget.
“I’m not your Abby,” she almost hissed, letting her hatred of Harlan show on her face. It was an emotion she couldn’t hide. He’d cost her everything she loved.
“And I was worried about you.” Utah shook his head as he turned from her.
She opened her mouth to remind him how he was in his underwear and that Harlan’s exact words had been, “I thought you got the girl too.” Too. As in also. As in he’d meant to get both of them. But who was she to hit him over the head with what should be obvious. Why, she’d lose her head if it wasn’t attached.
“Sorry you got caught up in our family mess,” Harlan kept talking as he motioned Utah to step out of the cell.
Her whole body tensed as Utah moved to walk out and leave her behind. This was wrong, so wrong. He stepped out from the cell and stood in the open with them. Something was off, she closed her eyes and let her mind see what her eyes weren’t focusing on.
“Utah!” she cried out his name as it registered.
He jerked toward her, and it was the perfect opening for them to strike. Southy and Whiney stepped in and hit him on either side with a stun gun. She screamed as his big body jerked and shook, his eyes going wide. He took a step toward her, reaching out even as he fell.
“No!” She screamed again, moving toward him. Harlan shoved her back, knocking her to her ass and shutting the cell door.
“Pick him up and chain him to the wall.” All pretense of the lazy, easy-going friend of hers was gone. Now he showed his true colors, becoming the cold-blooded psychopath she knew he was.
“Don’t do this, Harlan. Please.”
“You know, I remember the first time you told me about the
paka watu
,” he said as he watched his men go to work, manacling Utah’s hands and then using the chains to drag him on his back across the floor to the wall across from the cell. “I thought you were the funniest little girl talking about things you had no clue about. Figured you got your love of cats from your mom and dad. God knows that was all they talked about other than you. Those damn cats they loved. Jake was never the same after he married your mother. She never liked me, worked at turning him against me. But I tried to win her over by paying attention to her crazy daughter and her stories of people who shifted into cats. What do you call them?”
“Ailuranthropes,” she whispered, silent tears flowing down her cheeks as they fed the end of the chains through hooks and pulled, until Utah was held with his arms spread wide apart on the wall. They pulled the chains tighter, so his muscles were stretched and straining before attaching them to another hook on the floor.
“Yes. Werecats. Such a funny thing for a child to be interested in.”
They each took one of Utah’s feet and spread his legs until they could lock the cuff at the other end of chain around his ankles. He would be helpless now, completely at their mercy, and she was very afraid Harlan had none.
“I always knew you’d never give up on your dream of finding them.”
“Finding who?” she asked, her eyes never leaving Utah.
“The descendants of the original tribe. It was your fixation.”
“I gave that up a long time ago, Harlan. It’s a legend. A really good one, but a legend nonetheless.”
“You can’t lie to me. I’ve always been such an avid hunter. It’s in the genes.” His laugh was edged with madness, and Abby felt her heart lodge in her throat.
“Then you’re crazier than I thought.”
His eyes were livid. “Go get my tools,” he ordered Southy. “I’m not crazy. I followed you. I’ve been following you for years. I was there when you travelled through Africa, speaking of legends with the local bush people. I may not speak Swahili like you do, but I had a translator.”
“You followed me in Africa?” She’d had no idea he’d been there.
“I’ve followed you since you woke up in the hospital and went to live with your grandmother.” He walked to the cell and leaned against it. A shiver went down her spine at the hate in his eyes. “You should have died. It should have been you. Not Jake. Never Jake.”
“I know.” She agreed with him. Her father would still be alive if he’d just let her die instead, if he’d just loved her a little less, if he’d not been the protective man he was.
“But then we wouldn’t be here having our little reunion.”
Southy’s boots thumped loudly on the stone floor, and Harlan turned from her.
“Did you get everything?” he demanded, and Southy grunted, as he pulled stuff out of the bag he held for Harlan to inspect.
Harlan took the stuff from Southy, and Abby felt the blood drain from her face as she watched. There was a stick that looked like it might shoot an electrical charge, like something they would use on cattle. There was another club that reminded her of a police baton. Then there were the knives and syringes.
“Don’t do this. Whatever you’re thinking, I promise you, you’re wrong.”
“I’m right, Abby. And do you know how I know I’m right?”
She shook her head.
“Because you’re here. The legend says the one who carries the mark of the beast will awaken the lion.” He walked over and pointed the prod at Utah’s tattoo. “The mark of the beast.”
“It’s a tattoo. It’s just a tattoo.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
“Oh, God.” She moaned the words as she watched a very dazed Utah start to come around. “Don’t do this. Please, I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t do this.”
“You’re going to do whatever I want anyway,” Harlan promised as he turned his full attention to Utah. “So how much do you think he can take before the lion emerges?”
“He’s not the descendent of the pride leader. For God’s sake, he’s white.”
“Not fully,” Harlan argued. “Besides the blood’s been diluted over time. He can’t be expected to be pure still.”
“The alpha lion would have to be pure. Utah can’t be him.”
Harlan looked at her for a moment, and she held her breath, hoping he’d believe her. But after a too brief moment, he smiled and shook his head.
“You’re lying. This is him. You go to the bar he works at every night just to watch him. You don’t even drink. You pretend to look over your papers when instead you watch him. Searching. Watching and waiting for the truth to show itself.”
She shook her head frantically. “It’s a legend, a myth. It isn’t real.”
“All myths are founded in some form of truth. It’s what gives them the longevity to withstand time.”
“No. It’s the fantasy that breaches the span of time. Nothing more.”
“Then why watch? Why focus on him?”
Utah was awake now. Abby could tell, though he kept his eyes almost completely closed. His body was more tense, as if he were testing his bonds.
“I wanted him,” Abby said the only thing Harlan might believe. “I’ve been pretty much stalking him, trying to work up the nerve to ask him out.”
Utah’s head jerked up then, as he looked at her in surprise. That was not what she wanted him to do. Did the man have no sense of self-preservation? But Harlan had stopped and was completely focused on her for the first time.
Then he started shaking his head slowly. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?” she cried out with frustration. “He’s absolutely sexy as hell. What woman wouldn’t want him?”
Harlan glanced back at Utah then back to her. He shook his head again.
“You’re not that type of girl. Look at you. A woman who dresses like you is hiding, not trying to attract a man.”
“Thanks,” she muttered unable to hide her hurt, though it was only the truth. “That doesn’t mean I don’t dream about being with a guy like him.”
Utah was just watching her. She hoped he’d appreciate her efforts later if she could just convince Harlan to let him go.
“Not yet. You don’t think like that. I know you.”
He turned from her as if she no longer existed and faced Utah with the prod in his hand. “Let’s see if I can make you roar, lion man.”
* * * *
Utah was barely holding in his screams as the guy named Harlan hit him over and over again. He’d thrown the electric cattle prod aside earlier in favor of the brute force of the police baton. The two yahoos on either side of him were wearing brass knuckles and taking cheap shots at him as well. Blood was trickling down his right side, washing the face of his lion tattoo in red.
Fuck, this hurt.
It didn’t help that Abby was in the cell across from him, screaming and crying. She cared.