“Just kill me, Marshall.” Andra Grant swallowed. Her
throat ached as the words slipped between her dry lips.
“Why do you make me hurt you? You’re my wife. I promised to
take care of you. I don’t like this at all.”
Marshall’s words rang hollow. Years of his training had hardened
her resolve to not be fooled. Her hoarse laugh sounded strange, even to
her. She tried to open her eyes to look at him. One eye, swollen from
one of Marshall’s earlier sessions, refused to open. “You
never loved me.”
“We’ve been married for twelve years.” He approached
the bed she was bound to with the fake smile he’d perfected plastered
on his face.
The upturned lips would fool anyone who didn’t know him well.
“You had an affair.”
“I fell in love with him. I’m disloyal. Keagen never touched
me. He’s an honorable man, a wolf. The wolves wouldn’t interfere
with a marriage.” She pulled at the bindings. “Just kill me
and be done with it.”
“Would you have fucked him if he hadn’t been so honorable?
Would you now if given a chance?” His words were laced with anger,
a fury she had never seen before.
Andra attempted to pull the ropes binding her to the bed. Tight. She lay
still, exhausted. Every breath brought pain. Did Marshall kick me? Waves
of pain swamped her body miring her thoughts. Marshall never left bruises
where others could see. He protected her from humiliation again and again.
An affair is the ultimate slam against ones husband isn’t it? Hadn’t
Marshall told her so? Did he deserve that after the years they had been
together? Marshall stepped up, took responsibility for the child she believed
she carried all those years ago. The first failure. Hysterical pregnancy.
Marshall refused the divorce she offered because he claimed to love her.
She closed her eye. How can I get through to Marshall?
“Andra? You still with me?” Marshall slapped her cheeks. “Your
boyfriend should be here anytime. He’s in for a surprise. I’ll
be waiting for him. No one fucks with my wife.”
Panic tore through her. “I fell in love with him, but we never...
He doesn’t want me. He has no idea how I feel. You can’t challenge
him.”
“You come from a family of wolf shifters. Wolves mate for life,
yet you admit to loving another.” He sat on the bed. “Oh honey,
you’ve no idea how hard this is for me. I’m a leopard. We’re
solitary creatures. Yet I’m tied to you. I love you, Andra. I’d
die without you, baby.”
“I never slept with him.”
“The wolves lied to us.” Marshall stood. “The wolves
insisted we needed the League of Packs for our safety.”
“Please, let this go. Let’s go back to Ohio. I’ll never
see him again,” her voice carried every last once of anguish in
her soul.
“So you say. How can I believe you? Wolves forced the leopards to
capitulate to the League’s way. Wolves pushed the League to order
our union because of your hysterical pregnancy.” He leaned down
close to her ear. His breath tickled over her heated skin. One of his
big hands slid over her naked flesh. His hand stopped on her breast. A
slow hard squeeze sent another bout of pain through her.
Fear joined pain in a slow dance deep in her soul. “Then kill me,
now. Leave Keagen alone.”
“Back to that are we?” Marshall sighed. “No, I won’t
kill you. Your boyfriend is another matter. Remember, Andra. What goes
on in our marriage isn’t anyone else’s business.”
Andra’s answer, automatic and robotic after years under Marshall’s
tutelage, flew from her mouth, “Yes.”
“If you want your lover to escape with his life, you will do what
I tell you.”
Andra nodded in agreement. Nails dug into her breast, punctured skin.
Marshall’s hand began to change to a leopard’s paw. Fear died
replaced with a desperate attempt to free Keagen. If she goaded him enough,
he may kill her on accident. She drew in a painful breath, wiped all emotions
from her face, and lowered her voice to sound serious.
“You beat me. My family--”
“Your brothers would challenge me.” He licked her ear lobe.
“I’d rip them limb from limb. Your father would fall, too,
for he is old. Save your threats. Allen is the only one who could have
fought and he’s dead. Murdered by the Northern Pack. No one believes
Keagen’s pack is innocent of the murders.”
Marshall’s nails began to lengthen on his fingers. She turned her
head away from him. She laughed, mocking him and his words. Marshall continued
to shift into the leopard with yellow eyes. Long sharp teeth touched her
throat. A snarl crawled from his throat. His revenge would be final. Relief
swept through her, gave her courage.
“You can’t beat me and get away with it. You’ll be humiliated
again. Forced to cow to the Leagues demand for my freedom. The wolves,
all of them, will challenge until you die.”
Her words were met with another snarl.
~ * ~
Terry Keagen flew down the ribbon of highway faster than the law allowed
on his way to Gray, his regular Sunday ritual for the past few months.
Andra waited for him. His mind carried a picture of her at an oak finished
table with painted white legs surrounded on four sides by four chairs
with green cushions. She would wear jeans; long sleeved shirt and no shoes.
Her long raven colored hair would be tied back in a ponytail while she
twirled a spoon in her coffee, though she always drank it black.
He hated himself.
Each week he swore he would stay away. She was on the mend after the murder
of her brother. Each week he swore he didn’t love the small, shy,
quiet woman who invaded his dreams with her gentle hands and soft lips.
Love snuck in the door of his heart like a thief in the night. She’s
married and beyond your reach.
Autumn painted leaves shades of orange, yellow and red, the most rare
of the colors. The highway stretched before him gray, dreary like the
funk in his soul, Andra, his constant thought, a sweet torture. He knew
better, of course, than to fall for a married woman. Marriage, a sacred
institution, the line that could never be crossed sat between them like
the Red Sea without Moses in sight. Did Andra love him? The question had
no answer. While she admitted she looked forward to his visits, it was
a far cry from love.
No, she has more class than to fall for me. She wouldn’t betray
her husband in such a horrendous fashion. His gloved hands squeezed the
wheel with a death grip as he increased his speed to fool hearty. Speed
cleared his mind, forced him to focus, made him free except for the wonderful
agony of his love. He wove through traffic leaving the other vehicles
behind like a parking lot. The exit with a stoplight loomed ahead on the
right, the only force large enough to end his reign of speed.
He loved Andra Grant. He switched radio stations while he waited for the
green light. His heart beat out a hip-hop beat, fast and hard. His mind
again turned to green eyes that twinkled with laughter at his lame jokes.
Her red lips didn’t need the make up she applied, the chin she always
held with a proud tilt. She drove him crazy. The urge to kiss her, rally
kiss her tortured him. The light changed. He stomped the gas pedal. The
engine purred like a lion, throaty and low. A sudden flash of Andra’s
face after she learned of Allen’s death kept a lid on the aggressive
wolf within.
Keagen pulled off the highway toward Andra’s house. This time, he
swore to his heart, he wouldn’t go back. He would leave her to live
her life with Grant. He would move on, get over her. If he found the task
didn’t work, he’d cut out the piece of his soul, and then
hide it in his heart forever.
He killed the engine in front of her gray two-story house. He swung the
door open; the odor of trouble assailed his nose. Rusty and putrid, blood.
Keagen sniffed the air. Not a lot, but enough to speed his approach to
the house. Inborn grace made the trip across the lawn easy. He is a skin
walker, a werebeast, a werewolf. His senses exploded in his nervous system.
Careful not to break the door in, Keagen hammered on the wood.
“Hello?” he hollered at the door. He tried the doorknob. Locked.
His heart pounded against his lungs with such ferocity, breathing became
work. “Andra?”
A female scream came from inside the house, then silence. Wood cracked
under the force of his shoulder. The door held. Keagen charged. The door
held. No use. Frustration fuelled strength. One mighty blast of his foot
and wood splintered. The door hung by a single hinge.
He entered without regard for his safety. A quick scan of the living room
chilled him into stillness. Couch cushions were torn to shreds. An easy
chair was upended against the smashed TV. Glass and electronics were scattered
everywhere. He sniffed the air. Blood mixed with Andra’s scent.
Keagen checked the kitchen. The table lay in two pieces, split like paper
towel. Shattered dishes made every step treacherous.
“Andra?” he called out.
Claws sank into human flesh, Keagen’s shoulder rent. Pain slammed
through his body. Blindsided, with a full load of weight on his back,
he collapsed linoleum. A cat’s snarl in his ear told him all he
needed. Grant. Teeth sunk into Keagen’s shoulder to aid the claws.
“Get off me asshole.” Keagen began the change to wolf. “Fight
fair. Let me change.”
“You fuck my wife,” Grant’s vocal cords changed to accommodate
human speech. “You broke into my house. I have the right to fight
you.”
Keagen reared out from under the cat, throwing Grant into an overturned
kitchen chair. Keagen scrambled to his feet ready for another attack.
All shifters were strong, powerful, ready fighters.
Keagen watched Grant with wariness, ready to spring. Sweat poured over
his fat naked competitor. Grant’s brown hair hung limp against his
head. His chest heaved from exertion.
“I’ve never laid a hand on your wife.” Keagen postponed
his transformation.
“Right and I am Peter Pan.” He stood up to look Keagen straight
in the eye. “You come here every Sunday. Why? If you’re not
fucking her, what else would appeal to you about my wife?”
“Allen, Andra’s brother, you remember him don’t you?
He was a member of our pack. We take care of our own.”
“She isn’t yours.” Grant took a step forward. “She’s
mine.”
“Why are you in Ohio instead of with her? She needs you.”
“I’m the Alpha of the Central Pack. I have a great responsibility
to them and the League of Packs.” He stole another step forward.
The two men would be nose to nose if Grant were a taller man. “She
is here with her family. They’re all healing.”
“Being Alpha is more important than your life mate?”
“What I think of my wife is none of your business.” The man
moved away but held command of the room. “You wolves mate for life.
Leopards don’t. Why limit yourself?”
Grant was an Alpha, and although Keagen was under no obligation to extend
any courtesies to him, Keagen let his eyes fall to the floor in an effort
to avert another round of fighting. He held his head straight to make
sure he wasn’t totally submissive to the naked man in front of him.
His shoulder throbbed from the deep lacerations along his shoulder blade.
“Where’s Andra?”
“I don’t know. She split. She called me a jealous clod. As
you can see, I didn’t take it very well. The beast got away from
me for a minute.” Grant brought his arms up to draw attention to
the room around them.
Keagen watched Grant with the trained eye of a psychologist. Grant wanted
Keagen to see a calm, confident man. The façade didn’t fool
Keagen. The man was worried, nervous. The smell rolled through the air,
almost overwhelmed him. You’d think Grant would remember our keen
sense of smell. Must be too old and losing his senses. Not for a second
did Keagen believe Andra had run anywhere. Where could she be?
“I heard a woman scream--”
“You heard me. I’m a leopard. My vocal range is higher and
wider than yours. I pulled my groin finishing off the couch. Went upstairs
to soak in the Jacuzzi then I heard you pound on the door. You owe me
a door. I’ll send the bill to Hunter.”
“I can pay for it myself. Hunter’s my Alpha, not my father,”
Keagen shut his mouth to keep from aggravate the situation until he found
Andra.
“Five hundred should do it.”
Keagen reached into his jeans pocket for the cash he always carried. He
flipped out five hundreds and laid them on the counter behind him. “Count
them if you want.”
“I know where to find you.”
The man stepped forward to prove he was lord here. Keagen didn’t
want to, hated to, but dropped his eyes to the floor again. Grant grunted
in satisfaction and strode away.
“Sorry about the door. I swear I heard a woman’s scream.”
“If you had, it would have been from pleasure. Andra’s loud
as an ambulance when she gets excited,” Marshall’s lips twisted
into a sick smile. “You know that though. Don’t you?”
Keagen knew bait when it was tossed in his direction. Not taking Keagen’s
word for anything, Grant attempted to trip him into a confession. Disgusted
with the picture painted by Grant of the beautiful woman he loved, rage
simmered. Keagen turned toward the kitchen door. Keagen needed escape
before anger boiled over. He wanted to make Andra a widow, to rid the
world of the likes of Grant.
“Loves it tied to the bed, submits to my every whim, want, and need.
She never causes me trouble with my other ladies,” He laughed. “Life
mates. You wolves have stupid ideas. Why do we all have to live under
wolf rules? Your kind founded the League, big fucking deal. None of the
wolves have served as president, yet you expect us to do what you want,
what you think is fair.”
Keagen sucked in a quick breath and faced the man again. “You know
that part of the agreement to form the League was that wolves couldn’t
be president since we outnumbered the other packs.”
“No one wants the wolves to lead,” Marshall closed the distance
between the two again. “You have too high a standard for the rest
of us lowly shifters.”
“You don’t know anything about loyalty, do you?”
“I know I’d die before I left my pack for yours. Is that loyal
enough for you?”
“What about Andra? Don’t you feel any loyalty to her? She’s
your wife.”
“If it hadn’t been for the League and their peace at all costs…
I did what I had to. I have to support the League even if it goes against
my personal beliefs. Peace is paramount.” His shoulders sagged a
bit. Grant never took his eyes from Keagen, never gave an ounce of submission.
Cold green eyes stared back at Keagen. “Leopards like to spread
the wealth. She trapped me into marriage. Then had the nerve to be sterile.”
Keagen’s blew out a lungful of air. He shook his head and walked
away again. “I’m not going to explain it to you.”
“Explain what? You and my loyal wife have been doing the nasty?
I’m not deaf, blind, or stupid. I know. You’ve driven all
the way down from Augusta for months now. I’m a male. The only reason
I’m making the drive is for a little bump and grind.”
Grant moved to block the doorway. Keagen wanted to get out of to the shifter
in front of him. Keagen held up his hands to stop himself from any attempt
at strangulation.
“I just want to see Andra to say goodbye. Wolves take care of themselves.
She is half wolf.”
“Like I’m supposed to know that. Wolves have so many pups,
no one can keep track. She never told me she was half anything. Wouldn’t
have wasted my time. No virgin is worth the hell she brought to my life.”
Keagen focused on the man in front of him. He stood his ground careful
not to show true submission, or challenge toward Grant. Keagen would never
come back. Andra would understand, she would know it was the right choice,
the only choice.
“Leopards don’t keep records like wolves do. We only care
about those whom we accept into our pack. All the others can go hang themselves.”
Keagen hog-tied the sarcastic thought to keep its escape from his mouth
to his tongue unsaid. Keagen refused to play into Grant’s need for
a Challenge. Instead he said, “You have to accept all shifters who
live in your territory.”
“I do.” He shrugged. “I can’t help if the non
leopards find it hard to put up with us. They chose to leave. I don’t
kick them out.”
“Where’s Andra?”
“You are a stubborn cuss aren’t you?”
“I just want to say goodbye. It’s called being polite.”
“I told you she took off.” Grant stalked forward another step.
“Now I’m telling you to get out of here.”
“You also said that she loved to be tied to the bed and she was…noisy.
Which is it?”
“None of your business either way. She’s my wife. Keep your
dick away from her. Stop sniffing after what you can’t have.”
Grant closed in another step. The arrogant expression he wore tempted
Keagen. Grant pushed button after button to make Keagen make a mistake.
“I’m leaving.” Keagen moved toward the door again. Pride
and a heady dislike for Grant refused to allow him to be civil, but he
managed to keep his cool, not cross the line, to give the fat old man
an excuse.
“I want you to leave my wife alone.”
Keagen turned back to face Grant. He hoped another survey of the house
would give him a clue to Andra’s whereabouts. Blood still mixed
in the air, more of it with his shoulder injury. A twisted smile played
on Grant’s face. Grant raised a single eyebrow. His cold eyes dared
Keagen to say something.
“Don’t worry about the blood you’re smelling. Some of
it’s yours,” He sneered. “Andra’s monthly always
fills the house with the stench. I’ll bet she forgot to empty the
bathroom trash again. Dirty little beast doesn’t have a cleaning
bone in her body.”
Control snapped like elastic wound tight for too long. The punch flew
out all on its own. Keagen didn’t even know he’d thrown it
until the pain of crunched knuckles set the nerves on fire. His shoulder
added to the painful chorus. Caught unaware, Grant’s jaw snapped.
The greasy haired head twisted to the left with the knock out power of
Mike Tyson. The man’s eyes glazed over even before he began to fall.
Grant went down like a lead weight.
Stunned, Keagen looked at his fist then to the crumpled body on the floor.
“Wonderful. Hunter’s going to flip.”
Keagen ran up the carpeted stairs to search the upper level. He looked
in every room as he swept down the hall. Nothing. There was a bathroom,
a computer room, and a nursery waiting for a baby that never came. He
opened the last door at the end of the hallway.
The door swung open without a sound. The smell of blood was thicker, heavier.
He was closer to the source. The deep thick carpet almost swallowed his
boots as he stepped into the room to check for Andra. The room oozed of
Grant. There were no feminine touches. No flowers, no frilly lace, all
geometric patterns and paint. He moved into the room so he could see past
the alcove the door was in.
The king size bed lay off to the left. The blankets were on the floor
in a rumpled pile. Strapped to the bed, naked, was Andra. The vision before
him stole breath. Frail and small on the big bed, the sight before him
almost sapped his will to remain on his feet. Spread eagle, Andra’s
tiny frame looked even more obscene. Deep blue bruises rose above the
milky white skin, the size of fists. Blood trickled from the split in
her full now pale lips. He forced himself to move closer, to make sure
she was alive.
~ * ~
Andra woke to the sound of Marshall reentering the room. She groaned as
she gathered the courage to make him kill her. “No… more…
please, Marshall. Keagen is a far better lover than you will ever be.
He knows how to please me. He fucks me until I can’t walk straight.
When was the last time you got it up for me? Too old, you are much too
old for me,” Her voice sounded raspy, masculine. “Kill me.
You hate me, so be done with it.
“It’s me, Keagen,” a soft male voice called out to her.
“It’s okay.”
Her foot began to move as Keagen worked the ropes at her ankle. “Keagen?”
“Yeah. I’m going to get you out of here. Damn these ropes
are tight. Hold on. I need to cut them.” She heard the sound of
a knife opening to free her.
“Keagen? No, you have to leave. Marshall’s downstairs,”
Andra begged. “He thinks we’re having an affair.”
“We’ve already discussed the matter. I’m not leaving
you like this.”
“Leave.” Andra wanted to open her eyes, to see if it was really
Keagen or a dream. Her eyes refused to obey.
“No,” his voice was steady, calm, like they were back in the
kitchen drinking coffee.
She flailed then to keep hi from making this huge mistake. They both understood
the penalty for such an affront to Marshall. He would Challenge Keagen
to a fight to the death. Andra fought harder against Keagen’s attempt
to save her. She deserved to die; she was the guilty one in all of this.
Keagen was innocent. “Please go away.”
“No. Now stop moving. I’m trying to be careful.”
“Keagen…”
The ropes gave way to the sharp edge of the knife until she was free.
Muscles protested when she bent her limbs for the first time in days.
Has it been days? She moaned in agony. Naked. She tried to move her stiffened
limbs to cover herself. Keagen threw a blanket over her.
“Keagen. I’m a bad wife.”
“I’m here,” Keagen ignored her. “I’m going
to carry you out to the car. No telling how much longer Grant will be
out.” He wrapped the blanket tighter around her. “Are you
going to be okay to ride? I don’t want to hurt you. Maybe I should
call an ambulance”
“Leave me alone,” her voice cracked. She struggled against
him when he lifted her from the bed. “I’m not a very good
wife.”
“Grant’s not a very good husband,” Keagen mumbled as
he lifted her from the bed. He carried her downstairs to freedom.
“I upset him. I shouldn’t let you come to visit without him
here. It’s disrespectful.” She laid her head onto his shoulder.
“I’m not a good wife.”
“Let’s talk about this later,” Keagen said with the
low quiet assurance she had come to expect from him.
She tried again to open her eyes. They felt glued together. No swollen.
They must be swollen. I never wanted Keagen to see me like this. She felt
the tears as they welled up behind her eyes and slipped past the lids
to escape down her face.
“Don’t cry,” Keagen’s voice shook. The words tumbled
from his mouth in a rough edged whisper. “It’s going to be
all right. I swear it. Grant will never come close to you again. I promise.
Never again.”
“He’s my husband. I have to see him again.” She relaxed
against him when they walked out into the cool November afternoon. “Keagen?”
“What?”
“Don’t do this. It’s all my fault.”
“No. Grant doesn’t have the right to beat you. I don’t
care if we did have an affair, he has no right.” He opened the car
door with some difficulty. “I should’ve seen some sign of
this kind of thing. I’m a psychologist for crying out loud.”
“It’s my fault. I’m not a good wife.”
He didn’t say anything at first, and then he was all business. “I’m
going to put you in the back so you can lay down. I don’t dare put
the seatbelt around you. Bastard did a good job on your ribs.”
The cold vinyl seat seeped through the blanket. She shivered. Her achy
muscles welcomed the relief it brought to the pain. Keagen’s here.
It’s Sunday. Marshall began her punishment on Tuesday. Doors slammed.
The engine roared to life and Keagen backed down the driveway.
Hurt, Andra tried to find something to hold onto. Keagen drove like a
mad man. “Keagen…”
“I know, honey, you need to lie still. Trust me. I won’t get
into an accident.” He shifted into fifth. The car lurched forward.
“I won’t let you be hurt again. Where is the nearest medical
center? Where is your doctor?”
“Maine Medical in Portland. I don’t have a doctor.”
“Back to the highway and Portland. Hang on.”
“Okay.” Andra managed to say as the car lunged forward. Waves
of pain flooded over her. Blissful darkness reached a hand out to her.