Rescuing Their Virgin Mate[Pack Wars-Book 3] (4 page)

Her knees weakened at the
news. Horror and relief collided. Elena
refused
to
consider what
being bought
entailed,
nor could she guess which man had purchased her. She hoped her new owner was
one of the nice ones.

As she stepped out of the
room, she caught sight of the two beautiful men who’d promised her freedom. No
other man who’d visited her was in the hallway. Hope soared. Despite her
attempt to calm her nerves, her body vibrated. The tall one with the vibrant
blue eyes shook hands with the same well-dressed man who’d come to the
warehouse. Did that mean she was theirs? Once he learned she wasn’t some whore,
he might be willing to let her go. If he did, she’d pay him back every penny he
paid.

Both of the men walked toward
her, but their gaze flicked to the guards more often than to her.
Uh, oh
. Did someone else claim her?
Please don’t walk by.

Mr. Blue Eyes stopped in
front of her and lightly clasped her arm. “Maria. Please come with us. Do you
have a suitcase or anything?”

“No, sir.”

He nodded and wrapped a
possessive arm around her waist, almost as if he thought she’d run away. His
warmth shimmied up her spine, and she leaned closer. At the end of the hallway,
he pushed open an exit door, and when she stepped into the fresh air, she let
out a big breath.

Believing there were cameras
everywhere, she held her tongue and didn’t thank them.

“Keep your gaze down and
pretend to struggle. Cameras are everywhere.”

That wasn’t what she expected
him to say. Even though she didn’t understand the reason for his command, she
did as he asked and tugged to get out of the man’s grasp. He let her go and she
fled—right into the stockier man’s chest.

He held her tight. “Whoa. I see
we have a live one.” His voice sounded
fake
. “Now get
in the car.”

A shimmer of fear registered.
Maybe they weren’t the saviors they claimed to be. The stockier one opened the
front passenger side, and she had little choice but to get in. Mr. Blue Eye’s
slid into the driver’s side and the other one, with the hooded eyes, slipped in
back. The leather smelled fresh and the interior spotless.
Holy Ghost
. This was a Cadillac. No wonder they could afford to buy
her. The big question was for what purpose?

Chapter Three

The moment Clay wrapped his
arm around Elena’s waist, so many sensations bombarded him,
he
didn’t know where to begin or even how to control them. His cock was painfully
hard, his bones cracked, and his fangs repeatedly poked out. Only one explanation
existed—Elena was their mate. What were the odds? Mating was encoded in a
werewolf’s genes at birth. When the two met, his body had reacted in such a
visceral way there’d been no doubt she was the one.

He thought his body would
calm when they drove away from the club, but it didn’t. His need for her
escalated ten-fold.

Between Dirk’s comment about
feeling odd when they first entered the hallway, coupled with the way his
friend continuously twitched in the room, Dirk felt the pull, too. While Clay
was thrilled about having a woman they could share, the timing sucked. Bedding
a virgin wasn’t on his bucket list, but now it might be.

He’d always questioned how
two friends, who liked to share their women, would share the same woman as
their mate, but it had happened. Maybe there was more to mating than he
understood.

Clay looked across the seat
at her. The glow from the streetlights illuminated her trembling chin. “Are you
cold, Elena?” He slid the lever to heat.

She gasped. “How did you know
my name?”

This wasn’t the right place
to tell her everything. She’d need a good night’s sleep and a decent meal
before he explained what happened. “When we get you home, we’ll talk.”

“I don’t have a home. I moved
out of my apartment a few weeks ago.”

He knew that. “I meant our
home.”

She turned her shoulder away
from him and that stung. “So you really are going to keep me?” She swiped a
finger under her eye. “You said you’d help me escape.”

Fuck
me
. This was going to be
harder than he thought. “I did and I am, but I can’t dump you on the street and
wave goodbye.”

“I could go to my friend’s
house.”

He thought she might say
that. “We need your help to shut down these men.”

She turned back around. That
seemed to get through to her. “Me? What can I do? I don’t even know why I’m
here.”

“You worked for Harvey Couch,
didn’t you?”

“Is he the one behind my
capture?” She tugged on her seatbelt, but he couldn’t tell if she was trying to
get out or just frantic. “Was he upset that I quit?”

“We’re not sure. That’s why
we need your help.”

Her hand lowered as if that
calmed her. “Okay, but I don’t really know anything.”

“I’m betting you learned more
than you realize. And that’s one reason why we can’t have you wandering around
Gulfside, or anywhere for that matter, until we stop this group from selling
more girls.”

Her chin lowered.

“It’ll be okay. I promise.”
He wasn’t a religious man, but if some higher being did exist, he hoped like
hell he hadn’t just given her false hope.

Once he turned off the
highway, he headed east toward their home. Clay couldn’t imagine how frightened
she must be, but he wasn’t very good at comforting females. The ones he’d dated
had been high profile women whose jobs required them to be in control all day
long. That was why they liked his dominant ways. Being a submissive allowed
them their freedom. With Elena, that might never happen.

Ten minutes later, he pulled
into his driveway.

“Where are we?”

“At our house.”

He couldn’t believe he
actually wanted her to tell him how much she liked the neighborhood and his
home.
Stupid
. The woman had been
traumatized, and he needed to be sensitive to her needs.

Too bad his body didn’t give
a shit.

Dirk was out of the back in a
flash and opened her door. She might freak when she saw all the clothes the
Pack had purchased for her.

“Watch your step,” Dirk said.
“The stones can be a little uneven.”

When Dirk took her hand, Clay
realized his friend was lost. Dirk wasn’t the best at relating to others. Now
it seemed he’d found his match.

#

Elena couldn’t tell what was
real and what wasn’t. A man wouldn’t pay for a woman except to have sex with
her. She couldn’t imagine they’d willingly release her without expecting some
payment—payment that wouldn’t be in the form of cash. Getting out of that
small room had been her goal, but would these men let her go or would she be
their sexual slave?

The expected revulsion at the
concept of making love with them never materialized.

Having sex with someone as
rich and powerful as one of these men sent a small cramp between her thighs,
and that scared her almost as much as spending the rest of her days in the
small, dark cage.

Be
honest
. If the
circumstances had been different, and she’d met them at a party, she would have
found these two attractive. Mr. Blue Eyes was sophisticated and charming. His
classic good looks, square jaw, and broad shoulders were what made a woman
fantasize. To her dismay, men like him never took a second look at her, a dumpy
Latino woman.

The other one, with the
brooding good looks, might have been more her type. He was thick around his
chest and legs, even though his face held no fat. He wasn’t much of a talker,
but his kindness shone through in his actions. Her mom taught her to look for
the good in people, and that was what she planned to do.

“Welcome to our home.” Mr.
Blue Eyes led her to the sofa. “Can we get you something to drink?”

“I don’t drink.”
Or do drugs or a lot of other things.

His smile reached his eyes.
“We have soda and water.”

Some of the tension in her
shoulders released. “Water would be nice.”

The more serious of the two
sat across from her. “My real name is Dirk Tilton.” He nodded behind him. “Our
host is Clay Demmers.”

Here she thought only she
used a fake name. “Why did he tell me his name was Randy?”

“We were working undercover.”

Her heart soared. “You’re
with the FBI?” This was too good to be true.

“Not exactly.”

Clay handed her a glass of
water. Her fingers brushed against his and a spark shot through her.
Whoa
. The floors were wood and not
carpet, so why the static charge? With a shaky hand, she drank half the glass.

With her thirst quenched, she
refocused. “
Who
do you work for?”

Dirk looked up at Clay. “It’s
complicated. Wouldn’t you like to change and maybe take a shower?”

The words shower and change
were dream words. “The shower sounds wonderful, but I have nothing else to put
on.”

“We bought you a few things.”

Confusion once more slammed
into her. “When? How? You just bought me.”

Clay sat next to her and
slipped her hand between his two. Her first reaction was to pull away, but she
let herself enjoy the feel of him for a moment.

“We saved you. There’s a big
difference.”

“Then you are going to let me
go?” Her pulse soared as she uncrossed her ankles, ready to sprint to the door.

He inhaled and slowly let out
a breath. “It’s complicated. As for your clothes, we spoke with your mother in
Costa Rica and purchased them yesterday. She was kind enough to email a photo
of you, too.”

Yesterday?
She was in that terrible cage yesterday.
Her mind splintered, and she pulled her hand back. “Okay. Who are you, really?”
They seemed to know everything about her. She wanted to ask what they told her
mother, but that question could wait.

Clay leaned against the sofa
and stretched out long, powerful-looking legs. “I can see you won’t be happy
until we tell you a few things.” He held up a finger. “That’s fair enough. We
work for an organization that has been keeping an eye on John Hood’s human
trafficking scheme for quite a while. He was the man in the pinstriped suit.”

To think she almost believed
he might have been the one to save her. “He came to the warehouse and dragged
me to that place to sell me.”

“I’m sorry.” He glanced to
the ceiling then back at her. “A few weeks ago a woman approached you about
leaving your job.”

He knew about that? “Yes. She
gave me money.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Did she work for this Mr.
Hood?”

The tension around his eyes
eased. “No. She wanted your job so she could question Harvey Couch.” He held up
a hand. “She didn’t get her answers. Couch originally ran the human trafficking
organization.”

She slumped back in her seat.
“The man was scum, but I had no idea he was into something so terrible.” She
held up her palm. “I swear.”

“We know you weren’t
involved. We’ve been after him for a while and wanted to contact you about him.
In trying to locate you, we discovered you’d been abducted. Only we had no idea
where they’d taken you. That’s why it took us so long to find you.”

This made some sense. “How
did you find me?”

“Our organization knew about
the sale. We went undercover to free you, and to learn more about Couch’s, or
rather Hood’s operation.”

“Are you going to arrest
Couch or Mr. Hood?” No woman should be sold.

“Couch is dead.”

As much as she didn’t wish
harm to anyone, she was thrilled the evil man would never come after her. “Then
why did Mr. Hood take me? Was it because of Mr. Couch?”

Dirk leaned forward. “Clay,
the less she knows the better.”

“Dirk’s right.” He stood and
held out his hand. “Come with me.”

She stood and this time she
willingly placed her hand in his. It seemed right, almost as if her mom would
approve.

More relaxed than when she
first arrived, she finally took a moment to notice her surroundings. She loved
that the living room had tall ceilings and was open to the kitchen. The need
for a fireplace in Florida eluded her, but the eclectic furniture was
all-male
and very comfortable.

Clay led her down a hallway.
“This is where you will be staying.”

She had her own room? That
was more than she’d hoped for. Clay pushed open the door and she took one step
in and halted. “It’s beautiful.”

The queen-size bed had a
purple and beige comforter and more pillows than she had in her whole
apartment. Maybe the best feature was the lounge chair and small table in the
corner. If she’d had books, she could picture herself reading for hours.