“But—”
He drove his claws into Wesley’s chest. “There is no ‘but’ in this,” he said. “Because of you, Chloe got away again. I’m the alpha of this pack…”
A gurgle slipped from Wesley’s throat.
“You follow my orders,” he said, and he twisted his claws, moving for maximum damage in the man’s chest, “or you die.”
His hand jerked back. Wesley fell to the ground. A big hole was where his heart had once been. But, just to make certain…
He pulled the gun from his waistband. Aimed right between Wesley’s eyes. Those eyes were wide and terrified.
He fired, and the silver bullet exploded from his gun.
Chapter Two
I kissed him! I kissed him—why in the hell did I kiss him?
Connor braked the motorcycle at the edge of the woods. They were once again back at her home away from home—courtesy of the Para Unit. A snug cabin in the woods, complete with twenty-four, seven guards.
Connor shoved down the kickstand.
She quickly pushed away from him and hopped off the bike. Her thighs were a little trembly after that insane drive, but she locked her knees and just rode out that quiver.
“Been wondering…” Connor murmured, his voice a low rumble. “Just how you made it all the way to town.”
It had been easy enough. “I hitchhiked.” She’d gotten incredibly lucky. After she’d run to the main road, she’d found a big rig cruising by. The driver had taken her close to the city, and, well, freedom had been at hand.
“Hitchhiked.” He shook his head as he climbed off the bike.
She yanked off the helmet and tossed it to him.
Of course, he caught the helmet. Connor grabbed it in one of those too-fast moves of his. He stared down at the helmet a moment, then looked up at her. “You know, the wrong person could have picked you up.”
“The risk was worth it,” Chloe said as she turned away. She started marching toward her prison.
She’d taken about two steps when he grabbed her and spun her back around.
“Dying would have been worth it? I’m protecting you! That fool you ditched earlier—the one that Eric is probably going to fire from the Bureau—he was protecting you, too!”
Now she had to wince. Chloe had known it would be too hard to escape when Connor was keeping his too attentive eyes on her, so she’d waited until he’d gone to check in with his boss. While Connor was gone, a younger agent, a man named Harris Grey, kept tabs on Chloe. Unfortunately for Harris, he was only human. So he’d actually trusted Chloe and thought she was sleeping in her room and not, um…running wildly through the woods as she tried to escape.
“I would have thought dying once would be enough for you,” he muttered, his eyes a golden fire in the dark.
But his words—they struck right to her heart and Chloe felt her own anger burn inside of her. “You don’t know anything about dying or about what I want.” She jerked away from him. “You’re my jailer, right? Nothing more and nothing less.”
And I shouldn’t have kissed you! I should have clawed out your gorgeous eyes! But she hadn’t. She’d pretty much been rubbing against him like a cat in heat.
Or a werewolf in heat.
They glared at each other.
“Don’t ever kiss me again!” Chloe fired at him. “I have enough to deal with as it is! I don’t need you—I just don’t need you!” Then she spun around and started her furious march once again.
“Oh, baby…”
Her eyes closed. Why was his voice sexy?
“You definitely need me. And I’ve got the claw marks on my shoulders to prove it.”
Her eyes flew opened. She glanced down at her hands. Saw the small nails there. Nails, not claws. Chloe kept walking. She heard him swear behind her, and then the thud of his footsteps followed her.
Chloe climbed up the rickety steps that led to the porch. Three of them. They squeaked beneath her feet. She reached for the door—
Harris yanked it open. His blond hair was mussed, as if he’d raked his fingers through it again and again. His brown eyes were stormy and his face—a fairly handsome face, but not that hard and sexy like Connor’s—showed his fury. “If you’re here for protection,” he snapped at her, “you aren’t supposed to run!” He stabbed his index finger toward Chloe. “We protect you! You aren’t supposed to run from us!”
“Ah…” Chloe nodded and glanced over her shoulder at a watchful Connor. “He missed the memo, huh? Didn’t get that whole part about me not being here willingly?” Well, now she didn’t feel so bad about ditching him. She looked back at Harris. “It’s not protection, it’s prison. And inmates, well, they try to escape prison. It’s just sort of what they do. A thing.”
His mouth opened and closed, rather fish-like. She gave him a grim smile. “But I am sorry if you get in trouble.” Those words slipped from her, utterly sincere. Harris had been good enough, as jailers went. She certainly didn’t want the guy getting booted from the Para Unit because of her. “Maybe I can talk with Eric.” And while I’m having that talk, I can try and convince the guy to let me go.
I mean, really…so a girl’s father turns out to be an insane werewolf megalomaniac. Doesn’t mean I’m like dear old daddy.
Her father’s image flashed in her mind, and pain shot straight to Chloe’s heart.
“Oh, I’m sure Eric will have plenty to say to you soon,” Connor murmured. “For now, go inside and crash. You have to be dead on your feet.”
Actually, she wasn’t. That was the problem, right? She was supposed to be dead, only she was definitely back in the land of the living, even if she had been stabbed in the heart. By my dad and then…then I turned on him.
Only she didn’t remember that particular attack.
Harris was still glaring at her. Obviously, he was more than a bit angry. Not that she blamed the guy. Not at all. “Sorry,” she said. “Sorry for sneaking out while you were in the bathroom.”
His glare got worse, and he flushed a deep crimson. Maybe she should have kept the bathroom part quiet. She slipped around him and headed back for her room. There was one bedroom in the place—hers. The men had been bunking on the couch, so at least she had a little privacy. She liked that privacy, especially when the nightmares came to her.
And they came every single time she closed her eyes.