The van’s brakes squealed as they ground together. All the passengers in the back shifted from side to side. Carter lifted me and moved to peer past the headrest of the passenger seat. Whatever he saw, he didn’t like. His grip on me increased, and a steady thrumming growl vibrated against my back.
“What the fuck are they doing out so early?” one of the men to our right asked.
“Shift,” Carter commanded and moved to the back doors.
I watched in horror as the men ripped off their shirts and their bones contorted, limbs changing as bones cracked and reformed. The muscles along their spine rippled, pressing against the skin with a disturbing popping sound as the vertebrae grew larger and reformed.
Carter didn’t hesitate as he jumped from the back of the van, walked around the side, and faced a line of expensive cars and limousines. They were all newly waxed and polished—chrome rims glistened as streetlamps came on, causing the paint to gleam. Several people stood in front of the vehicles, their stylized clothing as sophisticated and luxurious as their mode of transportation.
Even without my necromancy, their luminous skin and sparkling eyes would have given them away. Vampires stood between us and the path to the werewolf compound, efficiently blocking us in. Strangely enough—and for the first time I could recollect—I found myself relieved to see them. I supposed being placed in a shitty fucking circumstance made you appreciate what you once had taken for granted.
A form strode from the center of the group, his leather coat snug around his broad shoulders yet loose at his waist, the collar high at his neck. The shirt beneath matched, black as ebony, the buttons open at the throat. Spiffy black slacks clung to his hips, the shiny steel belt buckle in the center catching the light with each long stride.
His hair fell to his shoulders, the lush dark waves untamed and free, framing a face that was breathtaking even in fury. His obsidian eyes met mine, and I didn’t look away as he approached. His fists were clenched, telling me he was more than ready to do battle.
My heart raced and blood pounded in my ears.
He had always been beautiful, like an avenging angel sent to keep a watchful eye on things. Now, seeing him here, I said thanks to God, Satan, or whatever power that had allowed him to find me.
“You have something that belongs to me,” Paine said in a soft menacing tone and stopped a mere yard or so away. “I want her back.”
Chapter Eight
Carter’s grip on my neck increased, nearly cutting off my much-needed supply of oxygen. Paine obviously noticed it. His black eyes narrowed and his lips pulled back, revealing a glimpse of his fangs as he looked away from me and glowered at Carter.
“She has the right to a life of her own choosing,” Carter growled.
“You’re right.” Paine’s expression became unreadable as his onyx stare bored into me. “Choose, Rhiannon.”
“Let…go…of…me…” I gasped, attempting to breathe.
“Listen to me,” Carter whispered in my ear, loosening his grip and allowing me to pull in a heaping lungful of oxygen. “They will never let you go. You will exist as you always have, as a slave to their whims. With us, you have a chance to live on your own terms.”
“In your pack as your mate?” I rasped, livid at the audacity of the man.
How could he not see that what he offered was no different?
“If you don’t want me, you are free to choose another,” he replied without attempting to hide his bitterness. “Don’t sacrifice your freedom, your chance to have a life, children and a family.”
“Right now, my freedom is debatable, my life is certainly up to chance, and children are out of the question.” I looked directly at Paine, communicating my intent. “But don’t worry, I’ve got the family part covered.”