Michael
MICHAEL
“Is something wrong?” Gretchen demanded as downed his third glass of scotch. She was pacing back and forth on the plush carpet between the bar and the lounge. It was the most animated had seen her in weeks.
He shrugged. He didn’t know how much to tell her about the reality of the situation. That Baxter had Seven … that she was likely Jack’s mate … that they planned to use her to lure him back into their clutches.
Shit. She didn’t even know he had escaped to begin with! He couldn’t burden her with that. Not now. Not when he had nothing reassuring to tell her.
Just another cowardly act on his part. Refusing to tell her was as much to protect him as it was to her.
He poured another glass of scotch. Gretchen continued to pace.
Thump!
Thump, thump!
“What’s going on?” Gretchen whimpered, her body folding in on itself as the thumping in the hallway continued.
“I … I have no idea,” mumbled, putting the undrunk glass back on the bar. “Go into the ensuite, Gretch. I’ll—”
The door buzzed and swung open, and in walked a tall, athletic woman with long, dark blonde hair and freckles across her nose.
“Who are you?” Gretchen shrieked. “You’re not from the Operation!”
“I’d darn well hope not!” the woman replied, a hint of a southern drawl in her tone. “I’m Cas … I’m friends with Jack.”
“You’re … who are you?” stuttered.
Gretchen squeaked as an enormous wolf padded in behind her, his muzzle and the fur on his chest coated with dark, sticky blood.
’s stomach lurched.
“God’s sake, Clay, this is confronting enough for them!” the woman hissed. “Go shift back and clean yourself up!”
The woman—Cas—turned back to . “Is there a bathroom he could use?”
stared, speechless. It was Gretchen who gestured to the bedroom with a shaking hand.
“Th-through there,” she stammered. The wolf padded off in that direction with a nod to Gretchen.
A nod! A fucking nod!
How many glasses of scotch had he drunk?
“Wait right here. We’ll have this sorted in a jiffy,” Cas said, ducking outside and returning a second later with a bundle of clothes. She trotted into the ensuite, then returned, dusting her hands.
“So, we need to get out of here quick smart!” she said, all business, her eyes flitting between and Gretchen. “If there’s anything here that’s essential you keep, I suggest you collect it now. And I hope it’s small enough to pop in your pockets.”
Gretchen looked down at her hands. “My … my rings. I … I’ve lost weight, and they won’t stay on … they’re on the bureau inside the … the bedroom.”
Cas nodded and disappeared, returning with her gold wedding band and solitaire diamond engagement ring. She pressed them into Gretchen’s hand.
“You put them somewhere safe, you hear?” she murmured kindly as an enormous man in a flannel shirt and jeans, with light brown hair swept back off his forehead, appeared from the bedroom.
“I’m Clay. I’m … quite well acquainted with your son, Jack. We should probably go before they send reinforcements to clean up the … mess I just made outside.”
“The mess?” breathed.
Gretchen nodded firmly, though, and as the male—Clay—led the way, she followed with purpose.
“You coming?” Cas asked. “I’d highly suggest you do … this place isn’t going to be safe for much longer, and we’ve got a lot of work still to do in here.”
had no idea what this was all about. But Gretchen had already disappeared out the door, a short whimper finding its way back to him.
He downed the glass of liquor, and while the fire of it burned away some of his anxiety, he strode out.
Into the bloodbath.
Just as the first shock of an explosion from somewhere deep within Taiga trembled through the building, throwing and Gretchen against the walls.
The two Strangers grabbed them and ran.