Dragging her fingers through her hair, she kicked at the loose gravel and huffed. Something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but every cell in her body screamed for her to get the hell out of there.
“You’re sure it’s bent?”
He nodded but didn’t say anything. He just continued to stare at her with that unwavering intensity that made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.
His scent identified him as human, and as far as she could tell, he wasn’t infected, but there was something about him that put her on edge. According to Hollywood, as a werewolf, she should be able to easily overpower him, rip out his throat, and change her flat tire with one hand behind her back. All without even smudging her makeup.
In the real world, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Yes, she was probably stronger than the human. Maybe faster. Her senses were definitely more acute. On the other hand, she’d never been in a fight before, and it wasn’t as if she could outrun a car.
Or a bullet.
“Okay, just let me grab my purse and keys,” she said with a false cheeriness, playing for time while she tried to think through her next move. “I’ll be right back.”
It took every ounce of willpower she had to turn her back on him and walk calmly to the driver’s door. Almost immediately, footsteps crunched in the gravel behind her, slowly, hesitantly.
Step. Pause. Step. Pause.
Keeping her hands hidden from view, she concentrated on controlling her shift, allowing only her fingernails and fangs to lengthen into deadly weapons. Her eyes burned and watered as they attempted to shift to their lupine counterpart, but she held the transition in check, knowing she couldn’t risk a full transformation. It would leave her too vulnerable for too long.
The footsteps shuffled closer, the noise barely audible over the erratic pounding of the human’s pulse. The wind kicked up again, bringing with it the acrid scent of sweat and fear. Jacob was close now, too close, his presence at her back heavy and oppressive.
Curling her upper lip over her canines, Mackenna abandoned all pretense and spun toward the male, lifting her arm to swipe, claw, and scratch. The growl was still building in her chest when she heard the click of metal and felt cold, hard steel press against the underside of her chin.
She barely had time to register the gun at her throat, or the fact that she was completely fucked, before Jacob jerked his other hand up and brandished a small spray bottle in her face. A fine mist bathed her skin and filled her mouth, the odor musty and foul, reminiscent of the field mice that used to scurry through the barn on her family’s ranch.
Her vision blurred. Her head spun.
She swayed on her feet as reality slipped away, replaced by a peaceful haze that beckoned her into the encroaching darkness.
Her legs buckled. The world tilted.
She was unconscious before she ever hit the ground.
Chapter One
Now…
The basement was freezing.
Mackenna couldn’t have said what month it was, but winter had definitely come. There was always a chill in the underground lab, even in the hottest, most humid part of summer, but wintertime was brutal.
Then again, everything about her existence was brutal.
Naked and shivering, she pulled the thin blanket tighter around her shoulders as she huddled on the floor in the corner of her cell. After a day of tests and experiments, every part of her body ached. Though exhausted and hurting, the bright fluorescent lights in the blindingly white room made it almost impossible to sleep.
“Hola, lobito.” The recruit, a young male with short dark hair, smiled as he unlocked the cage door.
It was a rare sight within the compound, and an expression she immediately distrusted. She had nowhere to run, though, nowhere to hide, and she was just too tired to fight him. So, she huddled deeper into the corner, tracking his every move but careful never to make eye contact.
“You must be hungry. This will help.” His English was good but heavily accented, and he spoke slowly, occasionally pausing as if to find the right word. “Here.” Stopping in the center of the cage, he crouched down to place a paper cup and a steel bowl on the ground. “Eat.”
It was very obviously a dog bowl, but the aroma of grilled chicken was almost enough to lure her out of her corner. Almost. It had been weeks since they’d given her anything except cold oatmeal and dry toast. Once, at the beginning of her captivity, she’d refused to eat. She’d quickly learned there were worse things than starving.
“Go on,” the recruit encouraged. “Eat while it’s still warm.”
She didn’t know this male, had never seen him before, but there was something about him. Something that made him different from the others. It could have been a ruse, a trap to give her a false sense of security before he lashed out, but she detected no trace of anger or disgust in his scent.
She still didn’t trust him.
“Okay.” He smiled again and backed out of the cage. “I’ll go. Rest easy, lobito. Buenas noches.”
Mackenna said nothing. She didn’t move, not even when the heavy door of her cell closed. Despite her gnawing hunger, she remained perfectly still, waiting and watching. When the recruit finally vanished from the room, and she heard the electronic buzz of the locks, she threw
