Wild Wolf Claiming

The machine beeped, and Skye looked like she wanted to kick it for cutting off her friend, even though it was Vivian’s phone going dead that had ended the call. “I hate freaking technology!” she muttered, fisting her hands at her sides as she turned her head, locking her raw gaze with his. “Her phone charger for her car is broken, so who knows when she’ll be able to call back.”

Elliot opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Max made a deep, guttural sound that drew their attention.

“Holy shit,” the guy growled, looking like he might collapse in relief. “She must have been leaving that message just as I got here.” He slumped back against the wall that was behind him, his chest jerking with each of his ragged breaths. Then he lifted his hands, scrubbing them down his face, and Elliot had the feeling that Max was trying to keep them both from seeing whatever expression he was wearing at that exact moment.

“Ohmygod, why am I even freaking out about her phone? She got away!” Skye’s hoarse words came out in a breathless rush as she brought her stunned gaze back to his. “They don’t have her, right?”

“Yeah. That message they left in her room—it’s bullshit.”

Her slender brows pulled together with worry. “But where did the blood come from? Could it...could it be from an animal or something?”

“Maybe,” he lied, flicking his tongue over his lower lip. He knew damn well that it wasn’t from an animal, because he’d already been able to tell from the scent of the blood that it was Vivian’s. “Or she might’ve gotten hurt fighting them off—but hopefully not too badly. As much as it sucks that she’s run, she’s actually being smart by getting away from here. And I think she really does believe she’s keeping the bad guys away from you. Which means she’s one hell of a friend.”

“This is...this is crazy.” She shook her head, looking like she was caught in some painful, confusing place between shock and terror and relief. “My head is spinning.”

Wanting to hold her again so badly he could taste it, he told her, “Just take another deep breath.” Then he tacked on what was starting to sound like his goddamn mantra for the night: “It’s gonna be okay.”

Her beautiful green eyes, still red from crying, went wide. “How the hell is it going to be okay?” she asked with a bitter, scratchy laugh. “None of this is okay, and I’m so pissed off about all of it. And that stupid sentimental crap of her mom’s! She got hurt because she came back for it.”

Elliot took a step toward her, wondering what she was talking about. “What exactly was she keeping for her?”

Voice tight with frustration, she said, “Viv’s dad was a complete bastard who abandoned them years ago, but her mom, Marcia, is still completely hung up on him. And her taste in men never improved. Marcia didn’t want the loser she’s getting ready to dump to trash the few things she has left that were Viv’s dad’s out of spite, so the last time Viv saw her, Marcia asked her to hold on to them for a few weeks. They’re the only keepsakes that she has from their marriage, and Viv knows how badly her mom would freak if anything happened to them.”

Cursing under his breath, he understood exactly why Skye was so frustrated. If not for the mementos, her friend probably wouldn’t have come back to the apartment at all that night. “In that first message,” he rasped, recalling something that Vivian had said, “what did she mean about the shelter?”

She winced as her gaze skittered away from his. “That’s, um, where we met. Viv lived there with her mom and her little brothers.”

Already knowing he wasn’t going to like how this story went, he asked, “How old were you?”

Her mouth twisted, almost like she had tasted something bad, and then she slowly brought her gaze back to his. “Sixteen.”

His jaw tightened, and he could feel the muscle pulsing there, just like Max’s had done when he’d been warning him about Vivian’s bedroom. The idea of his life-mate living in a women’s shelter at the age of sixteen made him burn with a raw, desperate feeling of rage. Christ, there were so many questions running through his head, jamming into each other, he couldn’t even think where to begin.

And Max... Oh yeah, Max was onto him. Big-time. He could feel the weight of his partner’s questioning stare burning against the side of his face, and knew that Max had picked up on the fact that there was more going on between him and Skye than Elliot merely doing his job.

But this wasn’t the time for him to start explaining that she was his. If he did, Max would push him to tell her everything, and that wasn’t something he was ready for. Hell, he hadn’t had time to even figure out how he was going to do it. Wasn’t like he could just blurt out that he was a fucking werewolf, and then tack on an Oh, and by the way, we’re also meant to spend the rest of our lives together. She’d probably think he was insane and run so fast it’d make his friggin’ head spin.

No, right now his main objective needed to be her safety. Then, once that was settled, he could start the terrifying prospect of trying to figure out how to lay it all out on the line for her, while still holding his most painful secrets close to his chest. Max would tell him he was stupid, and that he was making a massive mistake by not telling her everything, but Max wasn’t the one walking around with that kind of shit staining his soul.

So, yeah, Skye knowing the truth about him, and about the things he’d done, was the last damn thing that Elliot wanted.

And yet, how the hell was he meant to claim her, binding them together body, heart and soul, without ever being completely honest with her? He didn’t know, and this really wasn’t the time to figure it out.

Breaking the awkward silence that had settled over the room, Skye murmured that she needed to get her things from the bathroom. Elliot stayed where he was as she hurried past him, but kept a careful eye on her, while doing his best to ignore Max’s questioning stare. Jesus, he could feel the pressure of that look battering against his skull like a hammer, until it started to make his head hurt.

“Are you going to tell me—?”

“Let it go,” he grunted, cutting the guy off just as Skye came back into the room with a small pink bag in her hand. Sliding her backpack off his shoulder, he held it open for her as she added the smaller bag to the inside, setting it on top of her clothes.

“Don’t close it yet, please,” she said, turning and heading toward the small kitchenette. “There’s one more thing I need to pack.”

Curious, Elliot followed Skye into the small room, watching as she opened one of the painted cupboards and pulled down a colorful box of cereal. She opened the top, reached into the box, and instead of pulling out a handful of Cheerios, she was clutching a rolled-up wad of cash being held together by rubber bands.

“Do you really think it’s safe to hide money in this place?” Max asked, coming to stand beside him.

“It’s not like it’s a lot,” she murmured, sounding embarrassed.

Max tilted his head as he watched her add the money to the backpack Elliot was still holding. “You got something against banks?”

“No, I don’t have anything against banks—I just don’t have time to go to mine every day. So I usually hold on to my cash tips during the week, and then make a deposit every Monday morning.”

With her explanation made, she zipped the backpack closed, then tried to take it from Elliot, but he just pulled it back up onto his shoulder. She frowned, but didn’t argue with him about it, her gaze cutting back to Max as she added, “And not that it’s any of your business, but I put almost every penny I make into a business savings account. And Viv is trying to save up enough to go to dance school. So it’s not like we’re backward idiots who don’t understand how the banking system works.”

Jesus, at least this explained why they lived in such a shithole. These girls had been working their asses off without enjoying any of the rewards, hiding away every penny they could spare in order to better their futures. As much as it frustrated him that they hadn’t been taking better care of themselves, he knew it spoke volumes about what kind of women they were.

Clearing his throat to get her attention, he held her troubled gaze as he said, “We need to get going. You have everything you need?”

He watched her pink tongue swipe across that juicy lower lip, and nearly growled from the blistering surge of untimely lust that tore through him, damn near burning him alive. But then it was like a cold bucket of water had just been tossed in his face, because she shook her head, and Elliot already knew what was coming. “I have everything, but I’m not... I’m not leaving here with you. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me tonight, but I’m driving myself to the shelter.”

Frustration crawled up his spine like an animal, clawing at his skin, making him want to gnash his teeth. “Why the fuck would you do that when I’m here?” His voice came out gruffer than he’d wanted, but there wasn’t any way he could pull off something mellow and calm right now. “I’m here to help you by taking you someplace safe. Someplace where I can protect you.”

“Elliot.” She sighed, and he could see the arguments building in her head without her even having to say a single word.

“Max,” he scraped out in a low, tightly controlled tone, “you mind waiting for us out front?”

“I’ll be in my truck,” his partner murmured, turning and making his way over to the door. But he stopped before he went outside, adding, “Don’t make me wait too long. You know what I need.”

“What did he mean by that?” she asked, as soon as Max had shut the door behind him. “What does he need?”

With one hand hooked around the back of his neck, and the other holding the strap of her backpack, Elliot answered her questions. “To know where to look for Vivian. He’s going to need you to tell him where you think she might go.”

Blinking, she took a step back, coming up hard against the edge of the counter. “I...I can’t,” she stammered. “Vivian left because she didn’t want anyone to find her.”

“After seeing her room, you really want her out there on her own?” he demanded, figuring that if he didn’t start being a little tougher with her, they could end up standing there and arguing in the small-ass kitchen all goddamn night.

She blanched, and her eyes went glassy. “No.”

“This is what Max and I do, Skye. Let him do his job, and let me do mine. I swear I won’t let these assholes get anywhere close to you.”

“But who are they? Everyone keeps talking about these mystery b-bastards, but won’t tell me anything. I just... I need to understand what the hell is going on.”

“I get that. I do. But there’s a lot that I can’t explain right now, because—” he paused and licked his lips “—because we don’t have the time. What I can tell you is that Max and I were asked by a friend in the FBI to look into a strange case the Feds are investigating. Seven women have recently gone missing on the East Coast, most from different towns, and the circumstances are all similar. We think they’re being collected by a group of males who are being paid to bring the women back to one man. We just don’t know who he is, or what he’s doing to the victims once he gets them.”

“And you think...me and Viv?” she asked awkwardly, her eyes so wide the irises were surrounded by white. “You think he wants these guys to kidnap us?”

“We got some vital intel that marked you both by name as the next targets, so yeah, that’s definitely what I think.” Lowering his hand, he stepped closer, narrowing his gaze on her upturned face as she tilted her head back. “I also think that if you’re not smart, there’s a good chance you’re going to find yourself in a situation that could end up getting you killed. And I don’t think it’d be a quick death. I think this psychotic son of a bitch would probably make you suffer a hell of a lot before he ever got around to taking your life.”

She immediately started crying again, her beautiful face crumpling with misery. Feeling like a complete jackass for goading her, Elliot drew the sobbing girl into his arms. He expected her to fight his touch, at least a little, but she was obviously desperate for the comfort, because her arms immediately wrapped around his waist as she buried her face against his chest.

“Christ, I’m sorry for sounding like such a jerk,” he rasped, holding her as tightly as he could as he rested his chin on top of her head. He wished he could just take this all away from her. The entire night, and all the shit that was sure to follow.

“If this is what’s really happening, then he m-must have seen Viv at the club.” Her voice was kind of muffled, since her face was still pressed against his chest, her tears soaking into his Henley, but he could still make out the husky words. “Men tend to go a little crazy when they see her. But...why me? What have I done to draw his attention?”

“You haven’t done anything. These bastards working for him are kidnapping beautiful women, and you’re a beautiful woman.”

“Oh, God. Just...don’t.” She pressed her hands against his chest and pushed, forcing him to either be an ass or let her go, so he lowered his arms. Moving back until she was pressed up against the counter again, she gave him a dark look that made him think she was considering if she should kick him or just hit him. “You don’t need to lie to me, Elliot. I’m...heavy. I’m not like Vivian. Not at all. I’m...fat, and I—”

“Whoa,” he cut in, holding his hand up. “Just wait and shut up for a second.”

It almost killed him to see that lush mouth pressed into a hard, flat line. “What?”

“Just don’t, okay? Don’t ever let me hear you call yourself that word again,” he growled. “I don’t know where you got a ridiculous idea like that in your head, but you are an incredibly beautiful woman, Skye. Every inch of you. Goddamn gorgeous.”

She bit her lip, face so flushed she looked like she’d been standing too long beneath a sweltering summer sun. Then she suddenly went into motion and started pacing the small kitchen, one hand pressed to her forehead, shoving back her hair, while the other arm wrapped around her middle. “I’m trying to figure out the right thing to do here, but I can’t even get my thoughts straight.” She flicked him a searching look, then lowered her gaze and kept right on pacing, her nervous energy so sharp he could feel it in the air. “I have no freaking idea if I should even believe what you’re telling me, and I’m sick with worry over Viv, and I... I know I should call the police, but I... I don’t... I mean, I wouldn’t even know what to say to them.”

Pushing his hands deep in his pockets, so he couldn’t get himself into trouble by grabbing her and hauling her right back into his arms, he said, “You don’t trust the cops because of Derek, right?”

A crease formed between her brows as she frowned. “Yeah. And Viv, she wouldn’t want that. She hates cops. I mean freaking hates them.”

“I can help you, Skye. I want to help you. We’ll figure this out and help Viv, too. All you need to do is trust me.”

“And, God, that right there. It’s so...so crazy! What is it with you?” Her head shot up, her big eyes bright with emotion, and he figured she was finally losing her patience with everyone and everything. Or maybe it was her temper, because she even stamped her foot against the floor. “Why are you being so damn nice to me? You’re scaring the hell out of me!”

Well...shit. “I’m sorry if I’m making you nervous. I just want to take care of you. Make sure you’re okay—that you have everything you need.”

Looking completely baffled, she started to scowl. “You want to take care of someone you’re not even interested in? That doesn’t make any sense.”

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