Kidnapped by the Wolves Page 8

  Everybody broke into mutters, stress creasing their faces.

  “It’s ridiculous, of course. There is a reason we never hear about vampires. For them to massacre a town would bring too much attention to themselves. But we still need more information. We need to know what he wants with Chloe.”

  Devon nodded, agreeing with that. But he didn’t trust that look in Sly’s eye. Something had happened, but what?

  “Ian, Theron. Since you two have so much difficulty being in the same room, you are going to be working together.”

  Both of them burst out in protests.

  “You aren’t allowed into the field until I see proof that you won’t turn on each other in the middle of a mission,” he continued, ignoring their protests. “So you will take Chloe to Angela and Sandra and stand guard over all of them.”

  It was a good plan. Devon smirked. Not only forcing Ian and Theron to get along if they wanted to get back into the field, but Chloe might also be more willing to talk to the women than she would the men.

  Theron and Ian glared at each other but sullenly nodded. It was good enough, for now at least. Devon knew they needed to address the root cause of all of this, but he had no clue where even to start with that one. There was so much bad history and hatred between the two of them. They were never going to get along, but if they could just stop fighting, it would be a huge relief.

  Devon touched Sly’s elbow. “It’ll be good to pull a real mission again,” he murmured. “I’ll go get Chloe ready for transport.”

  They could block her off from sunlight easy enough and it’d be safer to move her now, rather than at dusk when the other vampires were on the move as well. Sly glanced at him, opening his mouth but shut it again and gestured for him to go.

  The wide grin on Devon’s face disappeared the moment he stepped into the basement to hear heart-wrenching sobs. Why would Chloe be sobbing like that? His mind flashed to Sly and anger bubbled in him, while his wolf snarled and growled.

  He knocked on the doorframe to the cell, the door was still broken, and stepped in. Chloe was dressed, laying on the bed with her face pressed into the pillows. Her shoulders shook as she tried to suppress her sobs, but she couldn’t quite make it.

  “What happened?” Devon asked, crouching beside her.

  “I never should have slept with either of you!” Her voice was muffled by the pillow, but he still understood every word. “How could something so wonderful turn out so wrong?”

  Devon didn’t stick around to ask why that was. Fury built to a boiling point and he raced back up the stairs. Sly was just coming in and Devon grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. Fangs lengthened in his mouth as he glowered at him.

  “What the fuck did you do?”

  Sly rolled his eyes and pushed him off. “I may have lost my temper a little. But just because we fucked her doesn’t mean we can trust her. We need to stay focused and not get attached to the vampire. She’s probably collaborating with Rodger anyway.”

  Devon was mad enough to hit him but held himself back—just barely. “And what brought you to that conclusion?”

  Sly shoved him off and straightened his shirt. “Do you really think this is a coincidence?”

  “No, but it could very well be that Rodger didn’t have the opportunity to come after her before his. I mean, her sister is married to a dragon for god’s sake! She just left them; of course he’d go after her now, before she goes back.”

  Sly grunted and looked away. “Not good enough.”

  Devon stepped back, shaking his head. “You’ve always been a good judge of character. Why do you have to be so blind about her?”

  “She’s a vampire.”

  “I thought you were getting better. I guess I shouldn’t have pinned my hopes on one day.”

  Sly rolled his eyes. “Don’t patronize me, Devon. You know that vampires are dangerous, and she is no different.”

  Devon closed his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t believe you sometimes, you know that?”

  Sly only pushed past him and headed down the stairs. Devon stood there a moment, regaining his sense of self-control before he followed. He and Sly needed a good, long talk—somehow without either of them losing their tempers. Devon sighed. That was going to be more or less an impossibility. Both of them were so hard-headed, trying to get them to put aside their egos long enough to really talk about something was unlikely.

  He entered the room to find Sly roughly dragging Chloe toward the door, while she tried to plant her feet, terror written all over her face.

  Devon held out a hand to stop him.

  “What?” Sly snapped.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing. She needs to be covered up.”

  Sly rolled his eyes. “It’s only half an hour to town, she’ll be fine. You know how suspicious it will be if we go bundling her around in a blanket in the middle of the summer?”

  “But I won’t be fine,” Chloe wailed. “And I’ve told them all that I have a skin condition!”

  “Everybody also thinks she’s out of town with a family emergency,” Devon said. “What we ought to do is put her in a box and have Ian bring it to Angela and Sandra like he’s delivering Angela some stuff—”

  “I wasn’t asking you,” Sly snarled at him. “I have made my decision.”

  Devon’s fist flew before he could stop himself. He punched Sly hard in the face, his nose crunching beneath his fist. Sly stumbled back, looking more shocked than hurt even as blood ran down his face. Devon moved to Chloe’s side and put an arm around her shoulders. Both her hands were pressed to her mouth, eyes as round as saucers.

  Sly wiped the blood from beneath his nose and flicked it away. “What are you doing?”

  “Stopping you from being an idiot.”

  “That vampire—”

  “Stop calling her that,” Devon snapped.

  All at once, he was sick of this. Tired of always having to work around Sly’s ego and anger, trying to nudge him back to where he ought to be. If he could be so tender with Chloe after their sex marathon and then only a few hours later be willing to throw her into the sunshine—it wouldn’t kill her, no, but it would hurt her—then he didn’t deserve to touch Chloe. Didn’t deserve to have any say in what happened with her.

  Didn’t deserve to be their alpha.

  “I’m giving you until after this stuff with Rodger is done, Sly,” Devon growled, pulling Chloe tighter into his side as she trembled. “And if you haven’t shaped up by then, I am going to challenge you.”

  Shock and betrayal quickly morphed to hatred. Sly stepped forward, snarling. His whole posture seemed to grow, but he paused, his glance moving to Chloe. Then a bitter, angry smile twisted his face. “Seems like you have an obedient little pet there, don’t you?”

  Devon wanted to demand what he meant by that but swallowed it down. He’d said his piece. Either Sly was going to change his attitude or else… well, things couldn’t keep going the way they’d been anyway. Devon watched him storm up the stairs, his arm tightening around Chloe. She said nothing and he didn’t want her to.

  “Come on,” he muttered. “Let’s get you ready to go to Sandra’s.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was hot and stifling to be wrapped up in a thick comforter and then put into a box, but it was better than being in the sunshine. She could hear Devon grumbling through the layers but couldn’t understand what he was saying.

  She tried not to think about it too hard—the whole situation was all sorts of messed up, and she wasn’t happy with it. Not only because she felt guilty about having caused a fight between Devon and Sly but because it seemed that Sly still didn’t trust her. After she had shared with him that part of her, after she had been so vulnerable with him.

  Helplessness warred for her attention, but she kept shoving it aside. There was only so much she could do, she knew that, but there was still a part of her that thought there had to be something more she could be doing right now. M
aybe if she tried to talk to Sly more? But talking had only made him angrier…

  Was it the talking or the fact that he started to lower his walls?

  She had no answer by the time the box was opened, and she was brought out into a darkened apartment. Blankets were stretched over the windows to block out the sun and two huge men—she assumed they were wolves—stood to one side glaring at her while Sandra and Angela stood at the other side, huddled together and looking frightened.

  Chloe hunched in on herself as well, partly because of those fierce glares but also because of the fear from the two women. Her heart ached, remembering how friendly they had been back when she started to work at the diner. Was there anything she could do to show them that she wasn’t dangerous?

  I worked hard to be able to control the urge to feed, she thought miserably. But I guess they can’t just take my word for it. If only Sly would give me a chance to show him.

  She blinked rapidly as she turned toward Devon, who was frowning at her. Did he think she was faking all this, too? He wasn’t so vocal about his distrust but that didn’t mean he actually trusted her. For all she knew, the fight he and Sly had had was fake. A setup.

  But as much as she would have liked to convince herself of that, it had seemed too real. And it made her insides shrivel up with shame knowing that she was the one who had caused it.

  Devon touched her elbow, making her jump. An amused smirk replaced his frown. “You are going to be okay here. The vampires won’t attack during the day and it’ll take them some time after dark to figure out where you’ve gone.”

  “What if—” Angela started, then swallowed her words and ducked her head.

  Devon turned toward her. “What if what, Angela?”

  Ian growled and marched over to her, putting an arm around her. “You don’t have to sound so hostile.”

  “I didn’t mean to.” Devon’s tone was utterly calm. “I’m sorry if I frightened you, Angela. I would like to hear your concerns, though.”

  Her curtain of red hair fell over her face and she peeked up through it. “I was just… what if they have human spies in the town? Then they’ll know she’s here and they’ll attack and… and they already came after me once.”

  “That is a concern we’ve thought of,” Devon said, smiling kindly at her. “They still won’t attack before sundown, even if they have human spies. Roman and Omar will be coming to help keep guard before dusk. And in the meantime, the rest of us are hunting them down. With any luck, there won’t be vampires to attack come dusk.”

  Chloe let out a soft breath. She didn’t want to think about how many of the vampires with Rodger were because of stories similar to hers. If there was a way to save them, she didn’t know it. And if she was quite frank, she didn’t know how she was supposed to care, either. It was awful, she knew, but with her own life already in shambles and Sly’s anger and distrust hanging over her, she just didn’t know how to care about any of the possible victims that were helping Rodger disrupt her life even further.

  “You’ll be fine,” Devon whispered to her, touching her hand. He grinned, winked and then left.

  Chloe sank onto the couch, hating the way they were all looking at her. Like she was going to jump up and tear out their throats at any moment. Theron sidled around the back of the couch, lingering long enough to make her hair stand on edge, before he stepped up to Sandra.

  “Got any beers, Omega?”

  Sandra ducked her head and went into the kitchen. Ian moved Angela to his other side and glowered at Theron.

  “Relax, Ian. I’m not interested in your sister. As hot as you are,” Theron added, winking at Angela and making her face as red as her hair, “you’re just not my type.”

  Angela scurried off to the kitchen to help Sandra. Chloe hated being left here alone with the two glaring wolves, who now had nothing to occupy their attention except for each other and her. Theron chuckled and Ian looked about ready to pummel him. Chloe’s hands tightened—she wasn’t going to have to try to break up a fight between them, was she? She didn’t think she could.

  When Ian turned his predatory gaze on her, though, she wished he’d go back to glaring at Theron. He folded his arms as he leaned against the wall, his gaze sweeping her up and down. He snorted, rolling his eyes.

  “I still say we just throw her out in the sunlight for a few hours to make sure she’s too weak to attack us.”

  Chloe flinched. “But that wouldn’t work,” she blurted.

  Ian narrowed his eyes at her.

  “It makes it harder,” she murmured, dropping her chin to her chest. “To control… everything. It’s not like if you are sick. It’s more like being on meth and then you get the munchies and you have to just eat everything.”

  “You don’t get the munchies on meth.” Theron laughed loudly. “if you’re going to use drug metaphors, at least try to get them right.”

  Sandra and Angela came back into the room. Sandra handed Theron a beer and their fingers lingered against each other, his gaze turning hot as he moved his eyes up and down her figure. She blushed, holding his gaze with a light glare before she turned and handed Ian a beer as well.

  He gave her a look similar to the one Theron had been giving her as he took the beer and popped it open. Angela, with her own beer, collapsed into a chair and turned the glass bottle around in her hand. Sandra sat, holding a ginger beer.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” Sandra asked.

  “Better not ask a vampire that,” Theron chortled.

  Chloe dropped her head. “I can eat regular food, too. It just… doesn’t sustain me.”

  “No, you need blood for that,” Ian said, eyeing her with a predatory look. Like a wolf sizing up a housecat, waiting to tear it to pieces. “Bet your shit is black. Or do you shit at all?”

  “Ian,” Angela scolded, though the sound was almost a plea. “That’s not polite—”

  “Neither is tearing people’s throats out.”

  Chloe flinched. “I’ve never hurt anybody! I don’t drink living blood; I get what I need from blood bags. The kind that you fill up when you donate blood.”

  Angela eyed her warily. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to hurt anybody, that’s why. When Rodger first turned me, he’d put animals in my cage and that was bad enough!” Chloe’s eyes filled with tears as she hunched in on herself more. “I don’t know what he’s planning to do with me, but if he thinks he can make me drink living blood again… if he thinks he can make me kill someone… I’d rather die!”

  An explosion of emotions rushed through her. Her chest felt too tight and her throat swelled up so she couldn’t speak anymore. Sobs choked her as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Sandra moved closer, putting an arm around her and Chloe stiffened.

  But despite what they were talking about, there was no sudden rush for her to want to drink the blood beneath Sandra’s skin. She crumpled into the other woman’s embrace, sobbing like she hadn’t done since before the accident. There was too much she was feeling. Fear, anger, confusion. The desire for something safe, the desire for someone to hold her was too strong.

  More than anything, right now she wanted to be able to phone Erica and tell her about everything that had happened. To go back to her and the twins and Evan, to huddle in their protection. But what kind of life would that be for her—what kind of life would it be for them?

  If Devon and Sly were here, I wouldn’t be so afraid.

  Not afraid of Rodger, at least… she still had that tingle of fear whenever Sly looked at her… but that fear was far too exciting when it came to Sly for her to dread it. It wasn’t the kind of being afraid that made you curl up in a ball and wish you’d never been born. When it came to Sly, it was more that she was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to handle him. A fear of her own powerful longing and desire.

  If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t be fighting.

  She’d heard Rodger’s offer to Sly. If they handed her over to him, then
he would leave town. Round up all the vampires in Deville and go somewhere else, somewhere they didn’t have to worry about him. And if they didn’t hand her over, he’d start a massacre.

  I’m not worth protecting. I’m not worth putting the town at risk for. I’m not worth all this work.

  The thought renewed Chloe’s tears, but her sobs eventually slowed and stopped. She pulled away from Sandra, immensely grateful for her comfort. Angela hesitantly handed her a box of tissues, though she withdrew quickly like she was afraid that Chloe might lunge forward and attack her right there.

  She still had her phone—Sly hadn’t taken it away the last time she’d called Erica. He hadn’t said why but it had been very deliberate. It had warmed her heart at the time. And now? Now she could use it to find out where Rodger was.

  And that was what cinched it.

  Chloe wiped her face with the tissues and then excused herself to the bathroom. Once the door was locked, she turned toward the covered window. Nobody would expect vampires to attack during the day. Nobody would expect a vampire to sneak out of an apartment during the day, either. Her hands trembled and her stomach churned at the thought of going out into the sunlight, but what other choice did she have?

  She didn’t want to be the cause of a massacre.

  She didn’t want to put Angela and Sandra in danger.

  A shiver ran down her spine as she reached for the blanket over the bathroom window but paused. They’d hear.

  Poking her head out of the door, her eyes found Sandra. “Is it okay if I have a shower? I feel like a real mess.”

  Both Ian and Theron frowned but Sandra nodded. “Of course. There are towels under the sink.”

  Chloe nodded her thanks. She closed and locked the door again and turned on the shower. She put it to cold water—there was no point in making Sandra’s bills higher than necessary with this already-wasted water. Her hands shook once more, and fear threatened to change her mind, but she buoyed herself up.