“We were careful, so I doubt it.” Cal’s voice is sluggish. He scrubs his hand across his face, but there’s no way it helps with the exhaustion or the anxiety. As the garage door closes behind us, I unclip my seatbelt and slide out. We unload thecar in silence, starting with the stranger. I lay her gently on the leather sectional, while Callum grabs the bags. It’s dark in the living room, but I can still see the bruise on her face swelling and starting to turn purple. Rage bubbles up, burning away how tired I am.
Callum flips on the light, and soft, recessed lighting highlights the worst of the damage. It doesn’t look that serious, but no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can’t control my reaction.
“You should feed her some of your blood, so she won't wake up in pain,” I demand. Callum shakes his head like I’m losing it.
“Dude, she might not wake up in pain, but I don't think any of us are ready for her todrink my blood.” He’s not wrong, but she’shurt. Doesn’t he understand? Can’t he see? My nails dig into the back of the couch, and Callum must see I’m about to argue because he cuts me off before I can start.
“I mean, seriously,” he snorts. “You want this girl to wake up in a strange house with two guys she doesn’t knowandthe inexplicable urge to hump the sofa?”
I grumble, knowing he’s right. Callum just smiles, lifting her shirt a couple of inches to take in the scratches on her side. His smile drops when he sees the drying blood. The cuts aren't deep, but she's going to feel them for a while. I stare at her, lost in thought.
Callum shuffles back into the room with a first aid kit, and I realize with shock that I didn’t even notice him leave. Shit. I should have been taking care of her, but I’m just staring like an idiot.
He gently cleans her side with antiseptic, laying a soft, breathable bandage over the worst spots. Callum touches her like she’s made of glass, and I can’t look away. I’m watching him so closely that I don't see her wake up. Nope, the only clue I get isher gasp, loud in the quiet of our living room. Her eyes flash with panic. I whine, and Callum freezes.
Oh fuck.
SHEENA
My head is pounding.It’s the only thing I notice at first, my mind fuzzy and disoriented as I come to a little more with each throb. It takes real effort to force my eyelids into the upright position. Jesus, I’m not sure they’ve ever been heavier. Adding insult to injury, my only reward for prying them open is a glimpse of some dated wood paneling.
Before I can focus on that for too long, a sting in my side makes me gasp. The sharp inhale floods my nose with the subtle smell of leather. Two things become clear at once: I’m not in my RV, and I’m not alone.
Goddammit. The guys from the bar. They’ve taken me.
They’re standing over me and staring like... I’m the threat?Who the hell kidnaps someone and then has the audacity to feel awkward about it? That makes almost as little sense as my mental state. Maybe I have a concussion because an odd wave of calm settles over me as soon as I recognize them. If these guys went to the trouble to track me down and bring me to some unknown location, the only thing I should feel is panic.
I feel like I’ve been body snatched by an idiot.
Did they drug me?The possibility brings back some of the fear I’ve been missing. It’s a relief to feel my heart race again as I take stock of my body. The strange buzzing that’s been driving me crazy since I left the bar is mostly gone, but my side hurts.I lift my shirt with trembling hands to find there are several carefully secured pieces of gauze staring back at me.
The fight flies back into my head in frightening detail. His glowing yellow eyes devouring me, sharp nails scoring my side, and the taste of blood in my mouth after he backhanded me. I suck in a sharp breath, and my ribs ache from the sudden movement.
My fear roars back in at full power, lending me the strength to stand on wobbly legs. I back away from them both, scanning the room for a way to escape. Maybe they’ll let me.
“It's okay. You're safe,” the one with black eyes whispers.Liar.“I promise no one will hurt you.”More bullshit.I learned a long time ago words are only worth the breath it takes to say them.
He holds his hands out in front of himself. If it’s supposed to make me feel calm, it’s not working. I watch him closely, waiting for the attack. He's standing so still, it’s like he's avoiding spooking a skittish, wild animal. Maybe that’s what I am to him—just prey, bruised, hyperventilating, and helpless in his house. He can think what he wants, but I won’t make it easy on him. Still, if he thinks his lies are working, maybe he’ll drop his guard.
I just need to give myself space to run.
When I try to speak, my voice comes out in a low, garbled rasp. It hurts. The giant one darts in front of me with a glass of water, holding it out without a word. If they were going to kill me, surely they would have done it earlier and not wasted time with poison. I take the water, gulping it down all at once as he stares in silence.
In my hurry, some of the water drips from the corner of my mouth. I wipe it away with the back of my left hand and tighten my grip on the glass. It’s the only weapon I have. Maybe I can throw it or break it and use the sharp pieces to fight back.
I’ll need to play this carefully. Testing my voice again, I keep the volume low and my tone calm.
“Why am I here?” I ask.
They exchange an uncomfortable glance. I retreat a step, trying to figure out the best path to the door without being obvious.
“We saw that guy attacking you. We were worried he might have a pack nearby, and since you were unconscious, we couldn't really ask permission.” The frat bro shrugs his shoulders like he’s embarrassed. I’m not buying it. No one with that many visible tattoos has any business pretending to be a boy next door.
He ramps up the excuses like he’s sensing my skepticism.
“We loaded you up and brought you here so that you'd be safe.” He smiles. “I’m Callum, by the way—Callum Casanell. That's Gideon Therion.” There’s no way he just gave me their real names... Unless he plans to kill me before it even matters. Silently, I think of them as the mouth and the muscle. The big guy has yet to say a word in front of me. The other guy talks a good game; I’ll give him that. Plus, his smile is dazzling, but it’s not so blinding that I don’t notice what he’s deliberately leaving out.
“Okay, sure.” I narrow my eyes. “But why were you even there? I ran into you in a bar in the middle of nowhere, only for you to ride in and save the day hundreds of miles away.” I pause for dramatic effect, letting a quiver slip into my voice as if the thought is only just now occurring to me. “Were you following me?”
