EnemyMine (4 page)

“Mary,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes and basked in the sound of those two
hushed syllables. She’d know that voice anywhere, would recognize it no matter
how much time had passed.

Emory.

Elijah hadn’t killed him. But what was he doing here? Why
was he showing up now? How did he know where she was? What in the world
prompted him to show up at the same time Shepherds had decided to strike? There
was so much to say, too many questions, and her grip on reality was quickly
slipping.

“Don’t hate me,” she pleaded.
Damn it.
Her voice was
so weak, so helpless. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I could never hate you.”

He stroked the tips of his fingers across her cheek and she
sighed and closed her eyes. The pain was less now, the burning stab at her
temple becoming an annoying throb. All she wanted to do was sleep, to succumb
to the land of slumber. The caress abruptly ceased and the once-tender fingers
against her skin became firm as they trapped her jaw and squeezed.

“Don’t do it, angel eyes,” Emory snapped, but it was alarm
and not anger she detected in his tone. “I’ve been through hell to find you.
Don’t give up on me now.” As he lifted her in his arms, he screamed, “Doc, I
need you!”

The shuffle of feet whispered in her ears and then someone
appeared and flashed a light in her eyes—first the left then the right. After
several seconds the man inspected the wound on her head. His touch was gentle,
fingertips lightly prodding her scalp. Dimly she realized people were talking
but she couldn’t understand them. She was hovering above it all, blanketed in
the one thing that gave her peace.

Emory was
alive
.

She’d allowed herself to hope he was. To believe he’d
survived the gunshots she’d heard as she’d run from him. No matter her horror
at learning what he was, she’d never wished him harm.

He shifted her against him, cradling her head in the space
between his neck and shoulder. Although he’d held her hand once—had wrapped his
long, calloused fingers around hers in a gentle fashion—he’d never taken her in
his arms. She’d always wondered what it would feel like. He was so much larger
than her, so intimidating. What would it be like to be held against his chest?
To feel him exhale against her mouth before he kissed her? Would he be slow and
gentle? Aggressive and bold?

As though he read her thoughts, she felt the enticing heat
of his breath right before his lips brushed against hers. So soft and sweet,
moving side to side in a lingering caress. He was deliciously warm, the muscles
in his arms flexing as he angled her head for better access. He smelled as good
as she’d known he would—a clean, woodsy and masculine scent. The absence of his
mouth when he pulled away made her want to draw him back, to ask him to do it
again.

Her very first kiss, something she had daydreamed about
since childhood, had happened like this. With her bloody and dying in the arms
of the man she had fantasized about.

It didn’t seem fair.

Emory said something but she didn’t understand him. As she
tried to piece his words together she found herself drifting into darkness. Her
final thoughts were of being in Emory’s arms, the odd but profound comfort his
nearness created and the sadness that arose from knowing they never had, and never
would have, the opportunity to truly know each other.

“Mary?” Emory shook his mate gently, trying not to panic.

He’d found her. Thank fucking God he’d beaten her uncle’s
henchmen to her location. As he peered down and gazed at her face, he noted the
dark circles under her eyes, the tiny scrape on her chin. She’d lost weight—too
much weight—and felt so tiny in his arms, so frail. No wonder, considering
she’d been on the run for months and living in a shithole.

A growl crept up his throat.

When he’d gone to her apartment, he’d been shocked at her
living environment. She kept the place clean but it didn’t matter. The
furniture was falling apart, the flooring was cracked in multiple places and
the wallpaper was peeling. She should have been living in a home that had been
built especially for her, with all of the amenities and luxuries he could
provide. Not a haven for addicts and hobos.

“Wake up.” He shifted her weight, freed one of his arms and
gently cupped her scraped and tiny chin in his large palm. “Look at me.”

“Leave her be.” Doc slid the flashlight in his fingers into
his pocket and laid an understanding hand on Emory’s arm. “The wound needs
stitching but she doesn’t have a concussion. She’s woozy because of blood
loss.”

“Is she in danger?” Fate couldn’t be that cruel. He refused
to believe he’d found her only to have lost her.

“Not if we get that gash stitched up.” Doc motioned toward
the end of the alley. “Hurry. Since we have to haul ass we’ll apply a bandage
until it’s safe to stop and I can patch her up.”

Damn.

He’d been so concerned for his mate he’d totally forgotten
about the police who were likely en route to the scene. He followed the pack
doctor to one of the SUVs that pulled into the vacant lot. It was time to clean
up the scene, take care of the mess they’d made and go. Usually shifters didn’t
put themselves in danger by fighting in the open, but due to recent events that
policy had changed.

He glanced at the shifters who were busy tossing dead
Shepherds into the back of the black unmarked van they’d arrived in. Mary’s
uncle wasn’t in the group. Emory knew it for fact. He’d scented the air the
moment he’d come to his mate’s aid. Elijah Shepherd had sent others to collect
his niece—something that caused Emory’s hackles to rise. The demented piece of
shit wanted Mary alive.

That meant she was still in danger.

Although she’d hidden herself like a pro, avoiding anything
that forced her to use her name, Elijah—like Emory—had been able to locate her.
One monumental slip, one huge mistake and she’d outed herself in the border
town where she hoped no one would pay her any notice.

All it had taken was a simple phone call.

The pack computer wiz, Wade, had been monitoring all the
calls made to the attorney Mary visited before she vanished into thin air. For
a couple of weeks Emory had waited, edgy and restless, until his mate had
slipped up and made the phone call that would reveal her location. When she’d
checked in to verify the status of a new bank account she was out of the
closet, existing in the open.

Nothing more than a sacrificial lamb waiting for slaughter.

Doc opened the passenger door and stood back as Emory
climbed inside with Mary cradled against his chest. He moved over the length of
the seat, making room as the older wolf settled next to him and closed the
door.

“Give me my bag.” Doc extended his hand past the front seat,
toward the driver.

“Is she okay?” Caden glanced at Mary as he turned from the
wheel and handed the large satchel over. “Fuck me.” He exhaled the words, his
gray eyes darkening. “She’s bleeding all over the place.”

“The head is vascular and her hair is blonde,” Doc muttered
and opened his bag. “She’s not losing as much as you think. It’s normal.”

A soft knock next to his head put Emory on full alert. His
canines dropped and he snarled through the window, coming face-to-face with his
brother. Trey was covered in blood from his chin to his stomach and his eyes
remained a bright, stark gold. He smirked as Emory hit the switch in the door
panel and lowered the glass.

“We’ve got to go. Her apartment was at a simmer when I left.
It’s probably engulfed in flames by now.”

“You set her apartment on
fire
?” It was official.
Trey had finally gone off the deep end.

“No choice.” Trey shrugged, unfazed. “When she made it home
Shepherds were on her ass. I had to improvise.”

“Motherfuckers.” Emory tightened his hold on his mate. He’d
wanted to find Mary so he’d left Trey inside the decaying residence. In
hindsight, it wasn’t his smartest decision. “Did they hurt her?”

“I was waiting, remember? Bastards didn’t so much as touch
her.” Trey swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and smiled. “They died
slow but I didn’t have time to destroy the evidence. I had to think fast. The
building was condemned for a damn good reason. There was enough shoddy wiring
to start an inferno that no fire department will care to investigate. Since I
removed the Shepherds’ weapons, they’ll think squatters found the wrong haven
for the night. It’s as clean as I could manage given the circumstances.”

“They won’t be able to trace her?” Emory asked, concerned
and frustrated by the turn in events. “Nothing can point to Mary. We can’t have
the police showing up asking questions. It’s bad enough that Shepherds shot up
the fucking store.”

Jesus, what a clusterfuck.

If Diskant—the Alpha and Omega of all the New York
shifters—discovered they’d placed their race in danger with sheer stupidity,
he’d have all their balls. Considering Emory intended to settle down with Mary
in New York under Diskant’s authority, it wouldn’t be wise to piss the mean son
of a bitch off any further. Diskant wasn’t sure Emory could control his wolf or
his Alpha nature, which meant he had been reinstated in the pack on a trial
basis. One small fuck-up could ruin everything.

Fucking unacceptable.

“The only people the police will investigate are locals,”
Trey drawled, as if he was discussing what he had for dinner the night before.
“As far as they’ll be concerned, someone got desperate and tried to rob the
local grocery store. If Mary was on the payroll, Wade would have found it.”

“And the apartment?”

“The fire will go on the books as an accident caused by bad
wiring and ratty insulation.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive, how’s that?”

“It’ll do,” Caden interrupted Trey and revved up the engine.
“Get your ass in the Caddy or call a cab. The others are ready to move. Time is
up.”

Trey pivoted and stared at the shifters in the distance. One
group had removed the Shepherds’ bodies and waited inside the unmarked van. The
others were piled into the SUVs beside it. Emory raised the window when Trey
pounded his fist on the roof, nodded and started walking toward the front of
the Escalade.

“All done for now.” Doc nodded at the bandage across Mary’s
head. “Keep pressure on it until we stop.”

Emory moved to do as instructed as the doctor revealed a
vial and syringe. He frowned when he asked, “What are you doing?”

“If she wakes up and panics she’s liable to hurt herself.
I’m going to give her a sedative.” Mary didn’t flinch or make a sound when the
needle pierced her arm and he injected the medication. “There we go.” Doc spoke
in a soothing tone Emory was sure he used often with his human patients. “Rest
while you can.”

Trey opened the front door and slid into the passenger seat.
“Get a move on,” he quipped as he settled back. “We haven’t got all night.”

“Fucking smartass,” Caden retorted and put the vehicle in
gear.

They pulled away from the lot, driving slowly. Within a
minute police vehicles and a wailing fire truck blew past them.

“Just in time.” Doc sighed and pinched the bridge of his
nose between two thick, blunt fingers. “That was close.”

Too close
, Emory thought and stared at the young
woman in his arms.

Even with her blonde hair and parts of her face smeared with
blood, she was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Her features were
perfect—full lips, pert nose and enormous chocolate-brown eyes. The memory of
her smile caused his cock to stir, coming to life against the plush roundness
of her ass. She didn’t know what her smile did to him, especially when she
caught him staring and became embarrassed and aroused.

God, her scent.

Even now the wolf within brushed against his skin as the
fragrance returned to him—the perfume of lavender, sunshine and sweet, feminine
musk. Many nights had been spent fantasizing about the ways he’d tease her,
taunt her and introduce her to the joys and pleasures of sex. She’d never had
to confess how little she knew about the art. He’d known it from the way she
reacted to him, how she’d tensed, shivered and relaxed when he placed his hand
into the small curve of her back.

She was so innocent—
too
fucking innocent.

He’d known Mary was too young for him when they’d met—only
twenty years old—but he hadn’t been able to help himself. Denying the need for
her was like existing without a reason, living each day with no purpose. So
he’d decided to give her time, to allow her to get to know him as a man and a
person, to give them the chance to become comfortable with each other.

Then the unthinkable happened and all of his carefully laid
plans were destroyed.

Never had he dreamed it would be like this, with him forcing
her to accept him and his bestial half. For fuck’s sake, the last time he’d
seen her she’d been terrified of him. The way she’d looked at him—like he was a
damn monster—hurt more than the bullets he’d taken from her family. Yes, he
could oftentimes be an animal in the literal sense, but he never would have
hurt her. He’d never given her any reason to believe he would. Yet she’d run
just the same, screaming as if she’d seen the devil instead of the man who’d
fallen in love with her.

His cock was undeterred by the remembrance, remaining firm
against the crease of her buttocks. No amount of regret could ice the heat
racing through his bloodstream, the need to fuck and claim his female rolling like
thunder inside him.

Shame for his lust hit him like a punch in the gut.

Pitiful. You’re like a pup sniffing around for his first
whiff of pussy.

And things were only going to get worse.

He’d ridden the edge for as long as he could. His patience
wasn’t what it used to be. If he’d been given the opportunity, he’d have done
right by his mate. He’d have afforded her a couple of years—no matter how
difficult those years were for him—to come to terms with her future. They could
have been friends first, getting to know each other before tackling the
important steps. Ones that would change her life forever. Holding her, having
her and knowing she was finally his wasn’t as fulfilling as he’d thought it
might be, not if it meant she would experience fear, uncertainty or doubt as a
consequence.