Hungry Like the Wolf Page 8

  Chapter Thirteen

  When the sun started to pinken the early morning sky, Olivia carefully rolled out from under Garrick’s heavy arm. They had run and chased each other for most of the night. It wasn’t until after they had quenched their hunger for bloody meat, and for each other, did they let sleep take them under its dark embrace, still in their wolf form.

  The trill of birdsong had finally jarred Olivia from her sleep. She looked around at their surroundings and nearly laughed. She thanked the moon that even in animal form they had had the sense to return to her house. Cuddled on a blanket, they had slept on her balcony.

  Glancing down at Garrick, she didn’t have the heart to wake him. When he slept, his face was not stern or cold, but peaceful. She hoped he could remain that way for a while longer. There were some things she needed to take care of before they could be together.

  She slipped into the house, dressed, and jumped into her car within ten minutes. Before Fisher’s pack was up and alert, she needed to fetch her things from his estate and put an end to the charade. She hoped he would let her go without a fight. If he wanted a fight, she would oblige him. She would just hate to maim or kill so early in the morning.

  Most of the household was still asleep when she arrived. This time she only had to pass one set of security guards. She smiled at them, hoping they would let her in without a fuss and without alerting Fisher. The Starbucks coffee she brought did its trick, and she passed through their scrutiny unscathed and unannounced.

  Silently stalking down the hall, she ventured first into the spare bedroom she used when she stayed at Fisher’s house. She could count on one hand how many times she’d used it. However, at his insistence, she had brought some personal things and left them in the room. The thought of him touching those things when she was gone motivated her enough to risk removing them.

  The halls were quiet and unmanned. Olivia quietly entered the room and went in, carefully shutting the door behind her. The adjacent door between Fisher’s private bedroom and this one was thankfully shut. Rushing into the small bathroom, she grabbed her toothbrush, but left the box of tampons and hair conditioner.

  Next, she emptied the small dresser of three pairs of panties, a bra, and her nightgown. She shoved everything into the plastic bag she’d had rolled up in her jacket pocket. Satisfied with her clean-up, she took a deep breath in anticipation of confronting Fisher.

  On second thought, she’d leave him a note. She really wasn’t in the mood to fight with him. Her body was still limber and languid from being with Garrick, and she didn’t want to ruin the effect by sparring with another male.

  She opened the bedside drawer and found paper and a pen. As she started the note, she heard muffled voices in the next room. Shit. She could hear the rough timber of Fisher’s voice and Malina’s nerve-strumming trill. They were arguing.

  Setting the pen down, Olivia silently crossed the room and put her ear to the door. She could hear them as if she were shoulder to shoulder with them.

  “I want to deliver the message,” Malina whined.

  “No, the last time I had you deliver a message to Garrick, you ended up flat on your back with your legs spread.”

  “Ah, you can’t fault a girl for having some fun,” she snickered. “I mean, you’re fucking around with his other bitch.”

  “She came to me, Malina. The girl obviously knows who the more powerful leader is.”

  Olivia could hear him move across the room. To his bed? She heard movement on the silk sheets.

  “Don’t you, Vanessa?”

  Her heart sank as she heard the muffled protests of the girl. She obviously had something shoved in her mouth.

  “She’ll be the perfect lure. Garrick won’t be able to resist coming to her rescue. And when he does, there will be no way in hell he’ll be able to fight that many of my specially trained soldiers.”

  Olivia was across the room in seconds. They were planning to ambush Garrick, setting a trap for him. She’d have to warn him.

  She opened the door. Six feet of bulked-up muscle stood in her way.

  “Fisher would like to see you.”

  Fight or flight. Those were her options. She eyed him, taking in his large, meaty frame and, by the vacant look in his eyes, his empty skull. She’d take flight. The man would pulverize her if she decided to fight.

  Nodding, she went to her knees and then came back up hard with her fist. She connected with his groin. Crying out, he doubled over and crumpled to the ground. Olivia leapt over his body and sprinted down the hall.

  She just about made it to the front door before four beefy guards stepped into her path. Skidding to a stop, she tried to back up and find another exit. But Fisher and Malina were at her back. She had been caught.

  “Well, well, well. Olivia, my darling, whatever are you doing here?”

  Straightening her shoulders, Olivia met his gaze boldly. “I came to tell you I’m leaving you.”

  “I gathered as much.” Chuckling, he added, “I mean, I could smell Garrick on you the moment you stepped into my house. Did you actually think you could leave that easily?”

  “Yup.”

  He closed the distance between them. Olivia could see the cold fury in his eyes and smell the restrained violence in his body. She’d be lucky to leave this house alive.

  He smiled. Olivia swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She’d seen that smile before -- the night Fisher had had one of his insubordinates whipped with a silver-tipped bullwhip for breaking one of his priceless vases.

  Malina stepped up next to him, putting her hand on his arm. “Let me do it, Fisher. Please let me do it.”

  “No, I have other plans for our Olivia here. It seems we have our bait.”

  Olivia rushed at him, her hands curled into claws. Inches from his throat, Malina knocked her aside. Olivia stumbled but didn’t fall. She turned on the bitch, teeth snapping, a low, threatening growl rising in her throat.

  Malina’s eyes widened. She took a step back, but Fisher pushed her forward. Olivia could see the hesitation on her face. The bitch obviously remembered the last time they’d tangled.

  “Have your fun, Malina, but don’t kill her. We need her until Garrick is dead.” He chuckled. “Then you can kill her.”

  “You’re the one that’s dead, Fisher,” Olivia growled lowly.

  Chuckling, he moved his hand around his waist. Slowly he unsheathed the knife strapped to his belt. He handed it to Malina. The silver glinted in the sunlight streaming in through the foyer’s large windows.

  “Enjoy.” He turned his back and wandered back toward the stairs to his office.

  Malina’s eyes lit up as she bravely took a step toward Olivia. “Now, we’re going to have some fun, bitch.”

  The sight of the knife turned her stomach. Silver wounds burned like acid. Dread washed over her as she stared at the sharp silver point and wondered if she’d ever see Garrick again. She didn’t know, but she’d be damned if she went down without a fight.

  Olivia smiled. “Bring it, mutt.”

  With a high-pitched squeal, Malina rushed her. Olivia leapt out of the way, but not before she felt the first pangs of searing pain start to radiate up her arm.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The lap of the water against the wharf crashed like cymbals in his ears. Garrick shook his head, dislodging the sound. His hearing was oversensitive as he tried to tune in to his surroundings. He knew he was walking into a trap, but at least he wanted to be prepared when the ambush took place. If they thought he’d go down quietly, they’d obviously forgotten who he was. Garrick Blackthorn never went down.

  The message had said to come alone. He’d told the others in his pack to stay, but he knew they wouldn’t listen. When did Tommy ever listen to anything he had to say? Taking in the deserted dock, Garrick knew that Tommy, Smith, and Puck were within listening distance. Tommy had the best ears of any werewolf he knew.

  Lifting his nose, he took a deep breath. He couldn’t smell t
hem, which was good. If he couldn’t scent his pack, then neither could Fisher or his men. But Garrick did pick up a thread of something familiar. The hairs on his arms rose, and his nostrils twitched. Olivia was somewhere close. Her scent was fresh, so he knew she was still alive.

  He just hoped that he was clever and strong enough to keep her that way.

  Damn woman. She was always getting into trouble. The moment he’d woken on her balcony alone, he knew she had gone and done something stupid, like confront Fisher. When she hadn’t returned three hours later, his heart had squeezed painfully in his chest. He knew instinctively that something had happened and she was in trouble. It had taken Tommy, Smith, and Puck to stop him from charging onto Fisher’s estate to rescue her.

  The message had come an hour later. Tainted with Olivia’s blood.

  Come to Pier 11 alone, or the bitch dies.

  He had nearly thrown up from the intense, agonizing rage roaring through him. Nothing in his life had ever made him feel like that before. He would kill whoever stood in his way to get Olivia back.

  Stepping into the glow from the low light on the pier, he stopped and waited. Empty, rundown buildings lined one side, and the dilapidated dock was on his other. If anyone came near, he would see them. Fisher had no chance to pull off an ambush.

  The door to the big warehouse banged open. Garrick turned toward it, his hands clenched into fists at his side. He expected Fisher to be standing there grinning like an arrogant fool. Instead, Vanessa filled the doorway.

  “Nessa?”

  “I’m sorry,” she cried.

  Garrick glanced around suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

  She raised her hands toward him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she chanted.

  Garrick noticed the blood covering her arms. Then he looked down and saw the blood soaking the legs of her pants. He fought back the rage bursting inside him. They had tortured the poor girl. Swearing, he rushed to her aid.

  When he was a foot away, she collapsed. He caught her before she could fall, cradling her in his arms and laying her down as gently as he could.

  She was cold and pale. Her body shook violently. Garrick sighed as he brushed the sweat-soaked hair from her brow.

  “I’m here, Ness. You’re going to be all right.”

  As she looked up at him, tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Garrick.”

  “I know, honey. I know.”

  He felt them approach. By his count, five men surrounded him, including Fisher. Not only could he smell the man’s arrogance, but his cheap cologne, as well.

  “You’re soft, Garrick. Too soft to be an alpha pack leader.”

  Garrick ground his teeth, but didn’t look away from Vanessa. He took in her gaunt face and the blood that still flowed from her wounds. He could smell the silver residue from the knives they had used on her. She couldn’t heal herself, not without help.

  “What do you want?”

  “What I’ve always wanted. Your pack. You see, before Corin died, we were negotiating the merging of our packs into one power structure.”

  “Corin would never have given you control.”

  “No, that’s true. So you did me a favor killing him, but now you’re in my way.”

  Garrick raised his head and met Fisher’s gaze. He saw the man’s face pale. Even though Garrick was outnumbered and vulnerable, Fisher was still nervous. That pleased Garrick very much.

  Vanessa jerked wildly in his arms. Garrick looked down at her in fear. She was dying, and he couldn’t save her.

  She opened her mouth and gurgled, and blood dribbled down her chin. Garrick leaned down to her face and cradled her to his chest.

  “Olivia is alive. Fight for her,” she murmured into his ear.

  Garrick squeezed her tighter, tears burning in his eyes. He held her until she quit breathing. He could feel her spirit pass from her and felt it tickle him as it passed into the air.

  Almost choking with despair, Garrick lowered her body to the ground. The others backed up a step, sensing his trembling rage as he stood. Turning toward Fisher, he snapped his teeth together.

  “I will never let you have my pack.”

  “Then you will die this night.”

  Garrick took a step toward him, his hands clenching and unclenching with fury. “As will you.”

  Olivia licked her parched lips and struggled to free her hands from the rope restraining her. She knew her wrists were raw and bleeding from her struggles, but she didn’t care. The pain was mild compared to the burning agony coursing through the rest of her body as she lay on her side on the cold cement.

  After Malina had subdued her with help from one of the guards, the woman had taken her time with the after-party torture. Little by little, she had sliced almost every part of Olivia’s body with the silver dagger. Not fatal cuts, but tiny nicks like paper cuts that burned with every movement she made.

  Sweat popped out on her forehead, and her gorge rose while she fought to free her hands. If she could just get one hand free, she’d rip that bitch’s throat out with her fingertips when she returned.

  The order could come at any time. She could hear the fighting going on not far from where she was being held. She had known the moment Garrick arrived at the pier, could smell him and sense his presence. The agony of Vanessa’s death still lingered in the air. She knew Garrick would never give up his pack without a fight. He loved them too much. He liked to play all macho and tough, but his pack was his family, and he would do whatever he had to to make sure they were free from werewolves like Fisher, who was manipulative, controlling, and cruel. Olivia had been a senseless fool to align herself with him.

  She shuddered just thinking about the things she had done to remain in his pack and the type of revenge she had plotted against Garrick. Knowing she could never have gone through with it still did not dampen the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach and in the center of her heart. She had very nearly turned out like Fisher.

  The rope dug into her flesh as she twisted her hands back and forth. She’d chew off her own hand before she’d let them kill her like this.

  Finally, with one yank of her arm and the distinctive pop of her thumb dislocating, she pulled her hand free of the restraints. She sighed, thanking the moon, because now she wouldn’t have to go on having morbid thoughts of her own death.

  Quickly she rolled and removed the rope from her other hand and untied her feet, then stretched out her limbs. She’d been tied up for hours, and her muscles were stiff. Pain ripped through her as she pulled and twisted her body. Blood dribbled from her cuts as she reopened them. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Olivia rolled onto her knees and gained her feet. She stumbled, but held on to the wall until her head stopped spinning.

  Her stomach rolled over, and nausea overwhelmed her. Bending over, she retched violently from the dark pain consuming her. Stomach finally empty, she shook her head to try and clear it. She needed to focus on something other than the burning agony she was in, if she was going to survive. She hadn’t come this far and fought this hard to have it end so easily.

  The sound of approaching footsteps sobered her instantly. Malina stepped into the yellow fluorescent light.

  “It’s time ...”

  Her sentence cut off as she looked at the discarded ropes on the floor. She growled low in her throat when she noticed Olivia standing to the side.

  “Surprise, bitch.”

  Gathering all of her reserved strength, Olivia rushed her. Malina raised the silver knife toward Olivia as she barreled toward her. Malina thrust with her knife hand, but Olivia grabbed her wrist with both hands, spun her around, and rammed her against the wall. Malina screamed as she tried to wrench her arm free of Olivia’s grasp, but a wild fury powered Olivia. With all she had, with the thought of Garrick and Vanessa in her mind, Olivia bent Malina’s arm back.

  One powerful thrust forward, and she buried the knife in Malina’s throat.

  Without pause, Olivi
a turned from Malina’s dying form and hobbled toward the warehouse’s front exit. She had a man to rescue.

  Garrick didn’t know how it happened, but by the time he disabled one of Fisher’s burly men, Tommy, Smith, and Puck had appeared with fists flying and legs kicking. Fisher had survived Garrick’s initial attack by hiding behind two of his men, but was now circling nearby shouting instructions to those who still stood. It was now four on four, and Garrick was looking forward to taking out his wrath on Fisher’s skull.

  Turning, Garrick spotted Fisher watching the others fight, with trepidation etched clearly on his tanned face. He imagined that Fisher was watching his plans for total domination of the two packs quickly vanish before his eyes. He had underestimated Garrick’s willingness to die for his pack. And his willingness to believe that Olivia would live.

  With a shout of fury, Garrick charged at Fisher. He thought about nothing but twisting the man’s neck in his hands, watching his eyes bulge as his life was squeezed slowly out of his body. Garrick didn’t see the gun until it was too late.

  He felt a sharp pinch and burn in his right arm as he collided with the warehouse wall near the open door. It wasn’t until he looked down and saw the familiar gray ooze dribbling down his bicep that he realized he had been shot.

  The pain of the silver burning his skin and spreading into his flesh made his head swim and his gorge rise. He looked back up at Fisher.

  Who was smiling and still pointing the gun at Garrick.

  “I should’ve known you’d bring a gun, you spineless piece of shit,” Garrick growled through clenched teeth.

  “Yes, you should have.” Fisher took a step closer. “I don’t like to lose.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Garrick dived for the door. The familiar spicy tickle in his nostrils came too late. He was already in the doorway when she stepped out. He wasn’t close enough to grab her and pull her down before the gun went off.