Seeking Pack Redemption (13 page)

The red-haired
one, Marc, gave her a sad smile. “Don’t cry. Darren’s right when he says you’re
safe now. We won’t let anyone hurt you.” He left.

“I’m sorry
I’m such a wimp,” she whispered.

“I’d say
you’ve done pretty good. You escaped, didn’t you?”

“With
help. I’d given up, you know. Thought I was going to die in that room.”

“But you
didn’t. And when the chance arose, you took it and escaped. There’s no shame in
accepting help. I’m just glad we found you.”

“So am I.
What happens now?”

“What do
you want to do? I don’t think returning to your old home is the best idea,
though.”

“God, no.
He’d find me too easily.”
But where can I
go?

“Don’t
worry. We’ll find somewhere safe for you.”

She wished
she could believe that. A shiver went through her.

“Damn. I’m
sorry. Here I am yakking at you while you’re wet and freezing. I’ll bet you’re
hungry, too. I’ll get out of here and get us some food while you get dressed.
And we promise not barge in unless we hear screaming next time. Sorry if we
scared you. That wasn’t our intention.”

Before she
could tell Darren he didn’t frighten her, he left the splintered door closed,
not snugly, but enough to give her some privacy. She could do nothing, however,
about the confusion in her mind because despite her fear, despite worrying
about what they wanted from her, she found herself drawn to him.
And Trent, despite his crude exterior.
Even Marc drew her,
to a certain extent. She also wanted to trust them.

I’m sick. Or suffering from some kind of syndrome.
Didn’t
they have a name for victims who thought themselves attracted to their
rescuers? Whatever they called it, she had it, bad, but it didn’t mean she’d do
anything about it. Now wasn’t the time to worry about why very different-seeming
men attracted her and fooled her into thinking she could rely on them. More
important things such as keeping her and the baby safe needed to take precedence
over everything else.

As she
rose, she wrapped the towel under her armpits and secured it between her
breasts before she stepped out. Her fear receded with their willingness to give
her space and privacy. It didn’t mean she trusted them or wanted them touching
her, but it allowed her to push back her terror enough to function. She dressed
in the clothes Trent left, his by the scent of it: a worn black T-shirt with Jimi
Hendrix on the front and track pants. She pulled the drawstring as tight as she
could and rolled the cuffs. They’d not brought anything for her feet, but she
did notice a comb and a toothbrush still in its wrapper. She made use of them
while staring at herself in the mirror.

I look the same.
Oh, a little bit paler,
her cheeks not as rounded, but the marks of her ordeal, the trauma, none of it
showed on her face. Other than the long scratch on her leg, she’d bear no
lasting scars unless she counted the ones on her psyche. But even those were
fading. She’d learned after the death of her parents that dwelling on the past
accomplished nothing. Living in a world of pity changed nothing. What happened
to her
sucked.
It would always suck. And she’d have
nightmares and probably some panic attacks, but life went on. She would go on.

Or at least until Roderick got his claws on her again.
And now she noticed a
change in the mirror, especially in her eyes, where fear shone, a beacon for
the monster.

*
* * *

While
Darren left to get some food with Trent, Marc paced the room, his usually
carefree mind in turmoil.

With a leg
thrown over the arm of a chair,
Jaxon
watched. “Something
on your mind?”

“The
girl.” Marc hesitated and looked at the bathroom door. It remained shut, the
fan still whirring loudly. “She’s scared of me. Of all of us.”

“Can you
blame her?”

“No, but I
don’t want her to be.” Marc, the most benign of his kind, was always willing to
give a lady a hand and crack a smile. But now
his pride was struck
low by a woman
. It sucked.

“I’m
afraid there’s not much any of us can do about that. The girl’s been through a
trauma. It will take time and understanding before she heals. And it won’t be
easy given you’re going to have to run to keep her safe.”

“Aren’t
you being a tad paranoid? We’re hours from his lair.
There’s
no tracks
leading to us. What makes you think this vampire fellow will follow?”

“Oh, he’ll
come,”
Jaxon
promised. “And
when he does, he’s going to try and control you. You might not even realize
it’s happening. You’ll think you’ve escaped his clutches. You’ll live and laugh
and love. Then wham, when you least expect it, the bastard will be pulling your
strings and you’ll be dancing to his tune whether you like it or not. Betraying
those you love.”

“Just
because it happened to you
doesn’t
mean it will happen
to me.”

A shrug
lifted
Jaxon’s
shoulders. “If you want to live in
that fantasy world, go ahead. But no crying later when I said I told you so.”

“So what
do you think we should do?”

“If
Thea
were Bailey and I were in your shoes, I’d beg for the
pack to take her in and keep a close eye on her. Then I’d go find myself some
vampires and get on my knees and ask them to help me take down Roderick.”

“Why
haven’t you done that?”

“Who says
I haven’t? I’ve been looking while tracking the undead fucker. But it’s not
like I can post an ad saying ‘Hey, vampire dudes, lonely werewolf looking for
tips on killing your kind.’”

“There
must be a way to contact them. How did the old council get in touch and make
the trade with Roderick? They obviously knew how to talk to the
fangers
.”

“Yeah, but
they wouldn’t give Nathan and the others the information, even when sentenced
for crimes against the pack.”

“So we
need to get their attention,” Marc said, an idea forming in his mind. “We
theorized earlier in the truck that they probably aren’t crazy about Roderick
drawing all this attention to himself. So we should use that to our advantage.
What if we made their existence really public? In-your-face, impossible to
ignore.”

“I take it
you have a plan?”

“The
beginnings of one at any rate.”

“That’s
better than we’ve got so far.”

Which was
squat. Energized, Marc paced quicker, letting the idea ferment. “I want to run
it by the other guys first, but if this Roderick is as hard to kill as you
claim, then we need to do it.”

The door
to the bathroom creaked, and Marc whirled. Cautious eyes regarded him. “Where
is everyone?”

“Gone to
get food. Are you hungry?” He spoke softly.

She nodded
her head before opening the door wider and stepping out. His wolf whined at the
fear it scented coming off her in waves. Peeking about, she appeared like prey,
skittish and ready to bolt at the slightest motion.

Something
about her intrigued him and his beast. It wasn’t the lightning bolt he’d
expected that others talked about when others talked of their true mate, but he
definitely found himself attracted.
And horny.
Very
horny even if she looked like a refugee dressed in oversized clothing. But his
arousal wasn’t something he could act on—yet. Marc gestured to the TV.
“Did you want me to turn it on? It’s got cable.” Yeah, that was suave. He
wanted to slap himself.

A shake of
her head answered him. She came further into the room and perched on the foot
of the bed closest to her.

A need to
sit beside her and envelop her in his arms shook him to the core. Something
about
Thea
brought out every protective instinct he
owned. Plus some. She called to him, even in her fragile state, he who usually
liked his woman as loud and ribald as him.

Jaxon
made a noise. “Jeez, people, it’s not a fucking funeral. We escaped.
Intact. There will be time later on to walk on eggshells.”

“Shut up,”
Marc hissed. “You’ll scare her.”

A sound
escaped her, and he whirled, ready to apologize for
Jaxon’s
rude outburst. He found her stifling a smile.

“He’s
right, you know. You don’t have to tiptoe. I’ll admit the situation kind of has
me wigged, but I’ll get over it.”

“Ah, but I
was looking forward to having a reason to hit him.”

Now she
did smile. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Hey!”
Jaxon
exclaimed. “Is that any way to thank the guy who
provided the diversion to rescue your ass?”

She
sobered immediately, and Marc almost did smack him. “No, it’s not. I forgot to
say thank you. And you,” she said raising her gaze to his. “I never thought I’d
escape. It was very brave what you did.”

An urge to
scuff his feet, blush, and mutter “Aw shucks,” struck Marc. He found his balls
instead. “No problem. Are you thirsty? We grabbed some pop, water, and juice
from the vending machine.”

“Apple?”

“I’ve got
two.” He tossed her the bottle unthinkingly,
then
gaped in horror as it soared at her. She snatched it out of the air.

A grin tilted
her lips. “I might not be athletic, but I still remember how to catch things.
My dad wanted a boy. He got me instead, so he adapted. Tossing a baseball
around, following football, and climbing trees are just a few of the things he
taught me.”

The
reference to her father made him curse. “Shit, your parents. Did you want to
call them and let them know you’re safe?”

A shadow
crossed her face. “My parents died years ago. I have no one to call.”

“I’m
sorry.”

She
shrugged. “It happens.”

“In the
pack, no one is ever alone. We live as a community and help each other.”

“The pack?
You mean there are more people like you?”

“People
like us are called
Lycans
,”
Jaxon
drawled. “And you might want to think about dropping the look of distaste,
darling, because if I’m right, you’re also a wolf.”

That
statement saw her spitting out a mouthful of juice. “Like
fuck
!”
She slapped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes rounded in astonishment.

Marc
couldn’t help himself. He laughed and was still laughing when Trent walked in
with Darren and several paper bags smelling of fast food.

“What’s so
funny?

“Our
pregnant mama over there has a potty mouth.”

“I do
not,” she exclaimed, her cheeks sporting bright red spots. “It just slipped out
because of what
Jaxon
said.”

“What did
he say?” Darren asked as he pulled stuff out of the bags and laid it atop the
scarred dresser at the foot of the beds.

“He says
I’m a wolf thing like you. But I’m not. I’ve never been bitten or anything, and
I don’t get an urge to howl at the moon.”

Jaxon
snickered. “You forgot to add scratching behind your ears and
chasing cars.”

She
planted her hands on her hips. She looked too cute with her oversized T-shirt,
damp hair curling around her head, and loose pants rolled into thick cuffs at
the bottom. “You can stop making fun of me. Grateful for your rescue doesn’t
mean I’m going to let you brainwash me into thinking I’m something that I’m
not.”

“Whatever
you say, darling.”

“Ignore
him,” Darren said, blocking her view of
Jaxon
. He
handed her a burger and carton of fries. “Eat. You need to keep your strength
up, for you and the baby.”

She took
the food and sat, but she gazed up at Darren, her white teeth chewing worriedly
at her lower lip. “Do you think I’m a wolf?”

“The
possibility of your being a
Lycan
has come up. I
can’t say for certainty, though, whether you are or not. Honestly, we probably
won’t know for sure until you birth your child and the first full moon comes
around.”

“Pregnancy
stops it?”

“In most
cases. We think its nature’s way of protecting the baby from the violence of
the shift.”

“What do
you think? Am I?”

Darren
took a deep breath, and Marc found himself taking one too, sifting her scent,
letting
it wash over his senses. His wolf growled.
Pack.

Darren answered
her question, brave man. Marc didn’t want to become the bearer of bad news. “I
think that your body is changing, waking from its dormant state.”

“But what
if I don’t want to be a wolf? How do I stop it from happening after the baby is
born? I can’t stay pregnant forever.”

Flopping
on the bed beside the one she perched on, Marc reached over and snagged a fry,
startling her. “Oh, it’s not that bad. So you’ll turn furry once a month.
You’ll also be stronger, faster, and more resilient.”