Chapter 8 #2
The animal didn’t believe it. Arousal was a lead bar in the lowest part of his belly, her fear dragging tingle-sharp claws over his skin.
“Calm down,” he managed, in a thick voice with precious little humanity left.
It was a snarl, pure and simple. “Calm the fuck down, girl, or we are going to have problems.” Problems that make this look like making out in the back of a Chevy. Jesus, don’t think about that. Control.
She quieted, breath hitching as she sought to swallow tears.
And she stopped struggling, which was good.
Except that he still wanted to press against her, past irritating layers of cloth in the way.
She was sweating, he could taste saltsweet musk, and the urge to press his face against her throat and flick his tongue delicately against her skin to absorb even more made a fine tremor run through his marrow.
Fur receded. The claws prickling through his fingertips retreated as well. He won the battle with himself by bare inches and the animal retreated snarling, back down to the very floor of his mind, curling up and promising trouble later.
“I am not going to hurt you,” he whispered into her hair. “You hear me? We need you, you have no idea how much. Nobody’s going to hurt you. I promise.”
“Why are you doing this?” A single forlorn sob crowded her voice, but she didn’t move. Maybe she was smart enough to know that if she twitched right now, he might very well snap and do something he’d regret. “Just let me go and leave me alone. I’m nobody, why are you doing this to me?”
What the hell? “You’re not nobody.” There was a dry, jagged rock in his throat; he managed to shift it with a cough and she almost flinched.
So he pressed forward again, holding her still.
“If you’ll be quiet, and sit down, I’ll explain a few things.
We’re Carcajou. We were born different, and sometimes we come across people like you.
We call you found shamans. You’re different, too, just a little bit.
You can keep us calm, make us better.” He inhaled, drawing the smell of her all the way to the bottom of his lungs.
And I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re mine.
Fight it all you want, but we’ll come to some sort of understanding.
Sooner or later. “I’m the leader now. The boy you saw get unzipped fighting that thing—the upir—that was my little brother.
I let him take the alpha because…” Shame rose hot and tight, a heavy glass wall.
“Because I was afraid, and because of… other things.” Inch by inch, his very bones creaking in protest, he eased away from her, every inch of his flesh holding the sensation of hers.
“Now you know something none of them do. You know I let him take it, even though he wasn’t strong enough.
I suppose that makes me a coward, but I’m done with that.
” I have to be done with it. There’s nobody else left.
Another deep breath. She was still afraid, and the faint trace of blood still maddened the beast crouching inside him. His gaze traveled up her arms, her thin wrists caught in his fingers, pale and so fragile.
Her fingertips were raw, probably from working the towel rack loose. She must’ve been damn motivated to get it free, disregarding the damage to her skin.
“Goddamn, girl. Look what you did to yourself.” He brought her hands down, flipped palms up, studied the ragged, bloody cuts. “Jesus. What were you going to do after you brained me with that thing, huh?”
She swallowed, her throat moving. Her glasses were smudged, knocked astray, and she was biting her lower lip so hard he thought she might start bleeding from there, too.
If she did there was going to be even more of a problem. But her teeth eased free, thank God.
“I was going to dial 911 and get the hell out of here. Let the police come and keep you busy while I ran.” She sounded steadier, calmer, but hoarse. This was a fragile peace, the eye of the hurricane. If he handled her carefully enough now he might be able to make her understand a few things.
“Good plan,” he admitted. She was smart; that was great.
Fantastic news, really, since he needed all the help he could get.
“It would have delayed us for about half an hour. Then we would have tracked you, brought you back. You’re ours now.
Get used to it.” The sooner we get that through your head, the sooner we can all breathe easier.
He realized just a little too late that sheer stubborn repetition might not be the best way to handle a terrified woman who flinched at all the wrong times. If he’d had a hand free he might’ve been tempted to smack himself in the forehead.
But it was too late. Her chin lifted slightly, stubbornly, and the glare from those winter-eyes could snap a man in half.
Then, the dam burst. “What was that thing? It killed Lucy, goddammit! And you—you’re not normal! None of you are normal! You don’t even smell human!”
Perceptive of her. “The thing that killed your Lucy was upir. That’s what we call it.
They…you can call ’em vampires, if you want.
We kill them where we find them and they return the favor if they can, only most of them stay out of our way unless they’re stupid or rabid.
They go nuts if they get a batch of bad blood, and they act just like dogs foaming at the mouth.
” He dragged in another deep breath, still holding her trembling wrists.
Come on, Zach. You’ve got her talking, give her something reasonable.
“We aren’t human, not like you are. Score one for you.
We’re different but we’re still people. And we need you.
I’m sorry I haven’t been nice about it, but—”
“Nice? You fucking kidnapped me!” Her eyes were all but spitting sparks. She drew herself up to full height—still a little too short to be anything but adorable—and gave him a fresh glare that would have done even Dad, the old alpha, proud. “You’re holding me hostage!”
“We’re not asking anyone to pay for you.” It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, taking refuge in the reflex of sarcasm. “Is there someone who would?”
“The only person who might have is dead in a fucking alley—let go of me!” She wrenched her hands away; he let her.
Her chest heaved, tears slicking her cheeks afresh, and the sudden desire to press her against the wall again was stunning.
It warred with the urge to put his arms around her and tell her everything was going to be all right.
“I have a job. I have a life. It’s not much of one but it’s mine, and I worked too hard to let you or anyone else take it away!
I started out with nothing! And I’m not going to do it again, you hear me?
You’d better let me go. You’d just…” She ran out of steam, put her shoulders back, lifted her little pointed chin again. “You’d just better.”
That’s good. It gave him more to work with, and if she was angry she wasn’t crying or afraid of him.
Anger was something he could absolutely understand. “All right, so you had a life. Work with us. We’d like a life, too. You think we want to live this way?”
“It looks like you like it, especially if you’re kidnapping innocent women.” Now she clutched her bleeding hands together. Her eyes glowed, all but incandescent.
That makes absolutely no sense. “Well, we don’t.
We lost our brother, our alpha, taking out the thing that killed your friend.
You could cut us a little slack here.” He suddenly began to get the idea he wasn’t controlling this situation nearly so well as he thought.
“We want to settle down. Once I know I can trust you, we can go back to your city and do it there. How about it?”
“Are you insane?” Her voice hit a pitch very near full-on screaming; the ice-and-moonlight smell intensified.
A flush spread up her throat, blooming in her cheeks, and he could smell the balance of her internal chemistry shifting.
It was like Julia’s sudden drift of estrogen once a month—only much, much nicer.
Bingo. She was triggered, high emotion and proximity to Carcajou pheromones setting off latent potential. By midnight she’d be a Carcajou shaman, and it would take weeks to shift her to another Tribe. By next morning she’d be their shaman, and it would take months to ease her into another Family.
The first critical step had happened.
Everything else would follow. It had to. She was their only chance, and he couldn’t fail this one final test as he had all the others. There was nobody else around to take the fall for this one.
And God, how he hated what that said about him. He had to get this right.
Her wounded hands curled into fists. “You’ve kidnapped me.
” A very low, dangerous tone, each syllable stroking his skin, provoking the urge to shiver with pleasure.
“What you’re doing is illegal and wrong.
You let me leave right now and I won’t go to the police.
I’ll go home and forget about this, and go to work Monday morning. If you don’t, I swear to God I’ll—”
You’ll do what? Leave us to die one by one?
His temper was almost roused as well, dammit.
“What? Try to kill me? We can hold you for years until you calm down, shaman, so you might as well play nice. You said yourself nobody would pay for you. What the hell is back in that city you want so much? Your husband, maybe?”
Her immediate flinch, added to the sharp note of fear cutting through her scent, warned him just before the animal lunged for freedom again. Her eyes turned big and wounded; her hands pulled toward her chest, raised as if to ward off a blow—
The Change rammed through him like a sword of hot glass, bones crackling, fur rippling. He fought it, desperately seeking to retain control; the animal knew better than he did, had seen something he hadn’t.
Your husband, maybe? A flinching woman. A cowering, terrified woman.