Michelle’s scent changed as I carried her from the motel. Each step I took brought new tension into her muscles and soured what sweetness our kiss had created. I did my best to hold her gently and not jostle her with my steady stride as I ran. Nothing helped.
I checked her expression repeatedly, uncertain how I was causing her pain. She gave very little away.
After I was sure I’d crossed enough populated areas to confuse our scent trail, I started looking for a pay phone. With cell phones gaining popularity, pay phones were almost nonexistent. My frustration grew at having to prolong Michelle’s agony.
She reached up and ran her fingers through the hair at the back of my neck.
“I’m okay,” she said.
I kissed the top of her head and kept searching. A few minutes later, I found a phone. Michelle lifted the receiver and dialed so I could continue to hold her. She leaned in closely to listen.
“Grey called,” Dad said. “He and Carlos dealt with your would-be followers. Are you two safe?”
“Are my brothers safe?” Michelle asked before I could answer.
“They are. We had two incidents earlier, but everything is quiet now. Mary and Gregory are with the boys, and several of our pack are patrolling.”
She exhaled in relief then winced.
“Michelle’s been hurt,” I said.
She opened her mouth to object. I shook my head at her.
“She needs to rest.”
Dad covered the phone and spoke to Mom for a moment.
“Give your Mom a few minutes to make a reservation for you.”
I listened to Mom in the background, weaving a nice story about her son and new bride whose luggage was lost by the airline and who were mugged on the way to their hotel. They were without wallet, purse, luggage or even shoes. She needed to set them up in a room until everything was straightened out in the morning. She was artful in her lies and far too convincing. I wasn’t surprised when Dad gave me an address for a different hotel.
“And, Emmitt, be careful.” His words were laced with fatherly concern, not blame.
“We will,” I said.
I would be much more careful with my Mate. My heart.
Michelle hung up the phone, and I took the opportunity to steal a kiss, until a passerby shouted encouragement. Pulling back, I studied Michelle’s dazed, content expression and bent to touch my forehead to hers.
“I won’t be able to let you go for a while.” Losing her had taken years from my life.
She kissed my cheek. “I don’t mind.”
Satisfied, I left the booth, started walking toward the address Mom had provided, and reached out to Grey.
I called home. Mom set us up in a new hotel. I gave him the new address.
We’ve been running patrols around our hotel and around the hotel where Michelle was taken to confuse any trails you two might have left. We’re going back to the old hotel to see if anyone interesting shows up tonight.
Be careful, I sent back.
Always, son.
Having a safe endpoint where Michelle could rest drove me onward despite her occasional flinching. She leaned against me the entire time I ran. By the time we reached the hotel, the streets were empty except for the occasional car.
The hotel looked expensive. A smiling attendant greeted us outside and moved to open the door as we approached. The plush red and gold patterned carpet in the reception area muffled sound, and every piece of highly polished metal gleamed in the lights. And, there were cameras everywhere.
Michelle would be safe.
The receptionist welcomed us with a smile. “Mr. Cole. Good to see you. Your mother’s description was very accurate.” The man held out a room card, which Michelle took for me. “Room service will be up with your meal. Please let me know if you need anything else. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
Sometimes the things Mom could do amazed me.
“Do you think someone could get me some socks and shoes? I lost mine,” Michelle said.
The man nodded and made a note about the size she requested. “I’ll have something delivered as soon as possible.”
I turned and made my way to the elevators. Michelle pressed the “up” button and the doors immediately opened. As soon as she swiped the card and selected the floor, the doors slid shut. I was impressed with the security.
“Could you set me down?” Michelle asked softly. “I don’t want to attract any more attention than we already have.”
Carrying her kept her scent trail minimal. Even with the heightened security, I was hesitant to take the risk. But, the look in her eyes suggested she wasn’t requesting to be set down. Carefully, I eased her to a standing position. I didn’t miss the way she winced when her feet touched the floor. I took her hand in mine and started to rub slow circles over the pulse in her wrist.
After the elevator stopped and the doors opened, I inhaled deeply. The air was clear of any disguising chemicals. It was also clear of werewolf. Holding her hand, I led her into the deserted hallway.
“Are we okay here?” she asked.
“Better security,” I said, pointing to a camera mounted just outside the elevator. I wouldn’t promise we would be okay. I’d already made that mistake once.
We walked down a long hallway toward our room. Michelle kept pace with me but had a hitch to her step. I needed to look her over and assure myself she was all right, but I wondered if she’d let me.
The room card opened the second door on the right side of the hall. Stepping aside, I let Michelle enter first. The door closed behind us with a click, and I released Michelle’s hand and kicked off my shoes as I watched her look over the suite of rooms.
Decorated in neutral colors with black accents, everything looked and smelled clean. The light cream walls of the kitchenette flowed into the main room where electric flames danced in a fireplace. Michelle stared longest at the leather sofa and oversized chair, then turned toward the bathroom through an open door to the right. It had a glass corner shower with dual shower heads, a whirlpool tub big enough for two, and a heated towel rack. If she wasn’t so exhausted and hurt, the tub might have interested me. Now, I just wanted her to rest.
“I call dibs on the tub,” she whispered, half-reverently.
The look on her face had me chuckling. Nothing would stop her from taking a bath. So much for rest first. While she moved into the bathroom and turned on the water, I went to the couch.
We made it. Safe and sound. This place has decent security. We shouldn’t have any problems.
Good. Everything’s quiet here. We are leaving it up to Michelle if she still wants to go to the lawyer’s tomorrow.
I dropped my head into my hands, wondering if that was the best decision. Michelle wanted to protect her brothers above all else, even above her own safety. That Blake’s men had taken her from a hotel room showed the lengths they would go to retrieve her. When I’d first met Michelle, she’d said those hunting her wouldn’t stop; she was right.
How could I keep her safe if she chose to go to the lawyer’s office? Would the media be enough? Blake had already broken our laws by killing Richard in public. What would stop him from doing something tomorrow?
Michelle left the bathroom just then. I lifted my head and watched her walk through the room, looking around with a slightly troubled expression.
When our gazes met, her expression cleared and she came to sit beside me. She rested her head on my shoulder and gently touched my arm.
“Don’t dwell on the past. It doesn’t do any good,” she said.
She read me too easily.
I kissed her forehead. “Go take your bath.”
She gave me a quick hug then stood and wandered toward the bedroom. The troubled expression was back.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Just checking things out. Something seemed familiar, and I can’t figure out why.”
When she reached the bedroom doorway, she froze. I went to her and looked over her shoulder at the room. There was a single, big bed. Was she really worried about that now?
Her scent alternated between anxious and interested while her pulse beat erratically.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She whirled to face me, startled.
“Yep. Fine.” Her gaze dipped to my neck, she flushed, then quickly looked up again. “I’m going to rinse in the shower then take a nice long soak. Let me know when the food’s here, okay?”
She gave a nervous smile and started to step around me. I mirrored her move, blocking her escape. After everything she’d been through, I couldn’t believe it was the bed that was causing her unusual reaction.
“Michelle, tell me. What is it? Should we leave? Find another room?”
She blew out a breath and wrapped her arms around me. I could feel her arms trembling as she rested her head on my chest. Confused, I returned her hug.
“No. The room is fine. I just connected it with a vision I had.”
I knew it. “What was the vision about?”
She hesitated a moment and ducked her head.
“You and me,” she said finally. She pulled away, and eyed me nervously. “I don’t want to bite you. I don’t care if it looked like you liked it or not. It’s going to hurt you, and I just don’t think I can do it. Not yet.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. She’d had a premonition about Claiming me. And it would happen in that room. I stared at the bed. Tonight. My heart raced. Tonight.
Michelle fled, and I turned to watch her. She seemed to sense my regard and stopped just outside the bathroom to look back at me. The blood on her shirt spoke volumes. She’d just survived a kidnapping. Claiming should have been the furthest thing from my mind.
She looked away and closed herself in the bathroom. Well, almost closed herself in. The slight gap in the door didn’t fool me. It wasn’t an invitation. She was still shaken up and probably wanted to hear me as much as I wanted to be able to hear her. Little movements and sounds let me know she was still all right.
Slowly, I sat back down on the couch. Claiming, being a leader, making a safe home…somehow it all started to blend together in my mind.
The shower turned on, and I half listened as she undressed.
I’d finished her apartment to entice her to stay. Now, it seemed she would be. But was it safe there anymore? No. Not the way it was. Dad was right, we needed families to come live with us. There was safety in numbers. However, we weren’t sure how many we were up against. Dad’s relaxed attitude toward the trouble that had visited the Compound stemmed from the number of people living there. If some of those families left, would the Compound still be as safe? Should we separate our numbers when so much was still unknown? I needed to talk to Dad before I made any decisions about the future. I wanted Michelle and her brothers safe. If that meant leaving Montana and living at the Compound, then that was what we would do.
The shower stopped, and I listened to Michelle get into the tub and start the jets. The faint scent of old blood drifted through the apartment. Not unexpected given what she had needed to wash away. However, the scent of worry still drifting in the air did concern me.
I dwelled on what the night might bring until I heard movement in the hallway. I was already off the couch when I heard the knock. The jets turned off in the bathroom. On my way past, I closed the door to give Michelle privacy and a sense of safety.
In the hall, a man waited with a cart full of food. The scent of grilled meat tickled my nose.
“Come in,” I said, moving aside.
The man pushed the cart into the room and set three covered plates and several other side plates on the counter of the kitchenette. When he had everything set, he wished me a good evening and walked back out, shutting the door.
In the bathroom, I heard Michelle moving. Closing the distance, I listened. She was just on the other side. I could hear her breathing.
“Food’s here,” I said.
She squeaked in surprise and pulled open the door. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Not funny,” she said, tightening the robe around her waist. Her wince stole the humor from the moment.
I eyed her, wondering again if she’d let me look her over. Given what she’d revealed before her shower, I decided to keep quiet for a little longer.
“It’s not as bad as I thought,” she said, turning her head so I could see the gash. Was she trying to distract me from what else might be wrong? It was hard to see, anyway. Her hair was wet and slicked back from her face. Water dripped from the ends onto the hotel robe she wore. I tried not to think about what she did or did not wear under it.
“Everything’s on the counter,” I said, turning away from temptation.
She followed me. I took the lids off of steaks topped with blue cheese, sides of mushrooms, and baked potatoes with the works. Three full meals.
As she eased onto one of the stools, I moved a plate before her. She looked down at it with a grimace. I thought she might argue, but she only glanced at me before she picked up her fork. The move shifted her sleeve, exposing the red lines circling her wrists. The raw color stood out against the white robe.
She picked at her food in silence, barely managing a few bites before I finished my meal and part of the extra one. When she pushed her plate away, I scraped the leftovers onto one plate and put it into the refrigerator.
With her head propped in her hand, she tiredly watched me. I didn’t realize just how exhausted she was until she yawned. I had her up in my arms before it stopped.
“I’m not tired,” she said, ducking her head to avoid my gaze.
She nervously played with the bloody fabric of my shirt.
“Frank didn’t hurt you, did he?” she asked, finally looking up at me. Concern filled her eyes.
She couldn’t walk without cringing, had a gash on the back of her head, and she was worried because I had a little blood on my shirt? I groaned and lightly pressed my lips to hers before pulling away. I didn’t deserve her.
The look she gave me was bittersweet.
“Don’t be sad.” She slid a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me down for another kiss.
I kissed her gently, and she sighed. Her hand moved over my chest in an absent way. Part petting, part exploring. Even though I knew she had no idea what she was doing to me, I couldn’t stop myself from responding. I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging for more. She willingly gave it. Her taste was heaven, her touch bliss. Without meaning to, I started walking again.
Her fingers feathered through my hair and held my mouth to hers as I gently set her on the bed. Carefully, I moved over her, using my arms while keeping my weight off of her. She took the space between us as an invitation to explore under my shirt. The feel of her fingers on my skin sent a tingle of pleasure through me.
I smoothed her damp hair back and trailed my fingers down to the Claiming spot on her neck. She shivered and turned her head to break the kiss.
As she gasped for air, I trailed kisses from her brow down to her throat. She groaned and arched into my mouth. I swirled my tongue over her skin then moved to the side of her neck. She turned and kissed me just below my jaw.
I froze. Tonight. Tremors shook me as I struggled for control. Not tonight. She needed rest.
She gently ran the tip of her tongue over my skin. I closed my eyes and struggled to remember why this wasn’t a good idea. It was the best idea. I wanted her. Forever. She needed to make it happen.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, nipping my neck.
I groaned at the feel of her teeth toying with my skin.
“It hurts to wait,” I said honestly.
Yet, she didn’t give me what I wanted. She continued to kiss and nip me, slowly torturing me. I shook with need and wouldn’t have been able to move off her if she begged. I kissed her collarbone and shoulder in return, giving her plenty of room to mark me and make me hers. Her scent was driving me crazy.
When she bit down firmly enough to break the skin, I nearly came undone. She placed a tender kiss over the bite and offered me her lips. I claimed them, devouring her as new emotions swamped me. Love, sweet and sure. Passion, shy and perfect. Michelle was finally in my head, and I was in hers. I didn’t want to let her go, but caught sight of a little pink on the pillow and forced myself to pull back.
She gazed up at me in awe. Satisfaction coursed through me. I would have been content to look at her all night. But she was tired. And, she needed rest.
“Go to sleep, now,” I whispered, moving to her side and pulling her close.
I could feel she wanted to argue, but she had no energy left. Her blinks were slow, and her gaze unfocused. I smiled and kissed her forehead.
“I love you,” I said.
She was asleep soon afterward. I waited an hour before moving her under the covers, trying to be as careful as possible. Tugging the blanket over her, I considered her midsection then studied her sleep-relaxed face. If I looked, I risked another kneeing or worse. If I didn’t look and there was something seriously wrong, I’d never forgive myself.
Decided, I went to the bathroom and returned with two clean hand towels. Praying she’d stay sleeping, I peeled back the comforter. The first hand towel I placed over the robe on her chest. The second one went over her hips. It wasn’t just to preserve her modesty. It was to avoid temptation. I desperately wanted to see her and explore every curve and hollow. But I wanted her awake when I did that, exploring me in return.
Steeling myself, I loosened the belt at her waist and slowly parted the robe. I worked it open a few inches at a time, stopping to readjust towels as needed so everything stayed covered. As I worked, I became angry.
A huge bruise covered her stomach. Two areas were darker, as if she’d been hit twice. What had he done to her?
I slid into bed and covered her with the quilt. Ever so gently, I pulled her close and listened to her even breathing.
