The scene continued to play in my head—Peter getting slugged with the bat from behind, dropping to his knees. And a small, brown hand reaching around to slash his throat.
Chloe. Her irrational devotion to Dillon. And her claws—red, not with Dillon’s blood but Peter’s.
Wulfan mate for life. Two sets of mates. Dillon and Chloe. And Chris and Josh.
Oh my God . . . Josh.
I struggled up, shoving aside the lithe female form that exclaimed and moved to push me back.
“No!” Half shout, half roar. “It’s Chloe! She tried to kill Peter.”
Suddenly I had the full attention of all three enforcers.
“It’s Chloe . . .”
“Chloe?” Chris gasped. “My God. Josh.” And he vanished, his shadow rippling in the moonlight as he became the wulf. Matt shot me a look and raced on Chris’s heels.
I rose to follow and the world swayed around me. Arms grabbed my shoulders, and Sam hovered into view. Still human. Still naked.
“Liam? Dammit. You’re bleeding everywhere.” She stared into my eyes, and hers widened at what she found there. “I don’t suppose you’ll lie back down?”
For an answer, I growled, my teeth bursting forth. My body was spent, but my mind drove me on, and the wulf answered my call. At least in part, giving me fangs and claws and the strength to stagger on human legs along the trail.
A slim, but strong arm wrapped around my waist. Her scent washed over me, warm and fragrant with her sweat, and something within responded, but I struggled to stay focused.
“All right then. I ought to clout you up the side of the head, but there’s been enough of that tonight.” She tucked her shoulder under mine and pulled my arm over her back. “Onward, soldier. Charge, as it were.”
* * *
The trip back to where I’d left Chloe seemed much longer than the voyage out. Of course, I’d been running from a homicidal maniac wulf at the time. Not running from. Leading away.
Right. Whatever I had to tell myself.
Now my sacrifice was pointless. If I’d only paused to work it out at the house, I wouldn’t have gone after Chloe and Dillon. But I remembered the bite wounds and smells on Chloe and realized that Dillon had proved a beast that even she couldn’t tame. But will she turn on Josh or admit what she’s done?
I figured the odds on her coming clean were long. If I was right, she and Dillon were mates. What happens when one mate dies? I thought of Peter and the pain he must have felt when he lost his. Hobbling, half jogging with Sam holding me up, my stomach twisted, knowing no matter how hard I pushed, it might be too late.
Cursing the impulsive act that landed Josh in this mess, my bruised brain raced through scenarios. But every one led to Josh ending up in the same place and time. Sometimes Fate is a bitch.
But if anything happens to Josh, I’ll never forgive myself.
The air whistled in my chest, each breath sending waves of agony through me. As we moved, Sam took an increasing amount of my weight. Although she kept up a running dialog of commentary, interlaced with the occasional profanity, she never suggested we quit. She would have to knock me out to stop me, and she seemed reluctant to go there. Such a little thing, tucked under my arm, but strong as a—well, a wulf, I guess.
A form materialized on the trail before us. It startled me as Matt rose to human from wulf. I’d fallen into a daze as we’d staggered along.
“Josh?” Sam’s voice was laced with tension. Sticking with me at my snail’s pace must have driven her nuts.
“Bleeding, but okay,” Matt rumbled, his voice filled with relief and still hoarse from the transition. I sagged against Sam. The news that Josh wasn’t lying dead in a puddle of blood took the last of my adrenaline and with it, my strength.
Sam handed me over to her father, and I saw how my blood had spread over her torso. Her naked torso.
“Hey, what did I say about eyes?” she snapped at me. I wrenched my gaze off her and the world tilted.
“Look out, he’s going to . . .”
14
Of all our senses, the sense of smell has been proven to link the strongest to our memories. Now that the wulf had enhanced mine, I appreciated the richness offered to me. The scent that pulled me from the darkness—fresh, exciting, yet familiar—made the small hairs on my neck and arms rise. Definitely worth the pain wrought by my return to awareness.Definitely worth the pain wrought by my return to awareness.
I inhaled and winced in agony.
“I wouldn’t take deep breaths for the next while,” a voice told me.
A slight form perched beside me on the bed. My bed, in my room. The form may have been small, but even dressed in a tee shirt and jeans she possessed curves that spoke to me. A smile pulled at my lips. Sam was a sight for sore eyes—and a very sore body.
“Hey, soldier,” she said, and smiled. “I’m Sam, if you don’t remember.”
I mentioned before that I’m a sucker for a good smile. Sam’s blew the lid off anything I’d ever seen. Full lips, white teeth, the way the expression danced in her gray eyes—gray didn’t do them justice, they were the color of a summer storm. My heart flipped over at what I read in those eyes.
“Do you speak?” she asked.
“Hey, Sam,” I croaked. “I’m Liam.” She reached for the pitcher of water by the bed and poured me a glass. I admired the way the sun streamed through the window to catch gold highlights in her rich red hair.
She laughed.
