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Alistair knelt beside him, his oily black hair falling forward until it made a
greasy curtain around them.  I don t particularly care for traitors.
He smiled wide, exposing his fangs, not doubting his white teeth were covered
in blood.  I don t particularly care for psychopathic assholes. So I think we re even.
The polar bear spit on him, the warm glob of saliva slid down his cheek, and he
rose to his feet.  Gimme a knife. I wanna hear the kitty scream for me before I kill the
traitor.
Deuce shook his head and laughed. Nah, he wasn t about to leave his Elly.
 Traitor? Your own family doesn t believe in your cause, Alistair. How do you think I
got in with you? You think I just happened to meet you in that bar? Or did your cousin
Jenner send me?
Rage mottled the bear s features. He needed the man to go into a destructive
fury. He d waste a good bit of time tearing apart the room and would leave Deuce alone
for a while so he could cool off. He d seen it more times than he could count during his
stint with Freedom.
 It was smart to get your cousin into the Ridgeville pride. Real smart. But you
probably didn t plan on him going bat-shit crazy over that Sensitive we stole back from
you. Yeah, Elise mated to one of the Prime s guards and it sent him over the edge. He s
had a good time in the council s jail. Gave us all kinds of secrets. Did you wonder why
your dear cousin hadn t called in a while?
Deuce saw the next strike coming and relaxed into the blow, let the pain flow
over and through him, biting back the curse that flew to his lips.
 You lie.
 Do I? His left eye had swelled shut, leaving him half blind. Didn t matter. He
needed enough vision to get him to one of the cars in the back of the house. He hadn t
trained with fucking Stone for nothing.
The crazed man stared down at him, eyes intent, and Deuce didn t hide a thing,
let the bear see the truth in his eyes. Well, eye.
 Fuck! Alistair spun on his heel and stomped from the room, slamming the
door behind him, the low click of the lock resonating through the room.
At least he d been left alone.
Deuce tugged at his bindings, the rope digging into his wrists as he fought the
restraints. He could feel the fibers cutting into his flesh, the new rush of blood
permeating the air, and he struggled to ignore the additional pain. It d been part of his
training before he went undercover with Freedom.
They taught him how to endure.
He withheld the groans and grunts that filled him, unwilling to draw the
attention of any others in the house. He d seen two more from Alistair s inner circle as
well as the leader s half brother, Niall. Out of everyone he d met, he d liked Niall the
most. Well, more like hated him the least. The man wasn t in Freedom by choice. No,
he d promised his dying mother he d look after his younger brother. Only to have that
vow damn him to life as an outlaw.
Deuce yanked against the twine, working at the rope and urging it to stretch. The
skitter of nails on wood had him freezing, muscles tense and still.
Skitter-skitter. Stop. Skitter. Skitter-skitter. Stop.
The noise was too small to originate from one of Alistair s men. The man
typically kept company with other larger shifters, carnivores that could easily destroy.
No, this was much, much smaller.
Then a scent bowled over him, one he d come to recognize, and his cat rushed at
his control, fighting his internal bonds in an effort to escape.
Skitter-skitter.
Fluffy fur brushed his bound wrists, soft and delicate and Elly s.
He d tan her ass for this. As soon as he got them clear of the house and to safety,
he d bend her over his knee and blister her bottom.
The rope around his wrists vibrated, was tugged and yanked on by his tiny mate,
and he imagined her in her tiny squirrel form, gnawing at the cords.
Nibble, nibble, sneeze. Then more nibbling.
At one point, he was pretty sure she gagged. He couldn t blame her.
More tugging, biting, and fighting until he was able to flex and break the last
shreds of his bindings.
Blood rushed into his arms, stinging pinpricks filling his hands while he
stretched his muscles and worked feeling back into the blood-deprived extremities.
He pushed himself up, resting once he was vertical, and then he rolled to his feet,
silent as he moved. No sense in drawing attention now.
Of course, there was still the squirrel.
His little mate sat on the ground, perched on her back legs, worried little frown
on her squirrely features, and nose twitching as she scented the air. She darted toward
the window and back to him scramble, return, and scramble again.
Part of him ached to go through the room s door, tear apart the guards, and fight
his way to Alistair. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]