Consumed

Chapter 28

Maggie focused on the sounds of night. Life bustled around in the forest, dark and steady. Okay. She could do this. She had to do this. A backpack weighed heavily across her shoulders, but she held on tight. Survival lay in the worn canvas.

Terrent wandered out the side exit, his gaze taking in the training field. Thick boots covered his feet, while combat pants and shirt covered his frame. He hadn’t donned a bulletproof vest yet, but no doubt the protective gear awaited him inside. Not by one whisper had he hidden his plan to kill Jordan that night. One dark eyebrow lifted. “Maggie? Katie told me you wanted to speak with me?”

“Hi.” She turned toward him, an itch wandering up her spine. The moon would rise soon. “You know I only shift under the full moon, right?”

Interest lit his dark eyes. “I did know that.”

She pivoted to face him fully, adrenaline pumping through her veins. He was so much bigger up close—did she have a chance? She cleared her throat. “Well, I wondered if you wanted to shift with me. This one night I’d like to run with another wolf.”

He lifted his chin. Those eyes narrowed to all black, suspicion swirling through. His voice stayed level. “Normally, I’d love to. But since we’re expecting a werewolf attack in a couple hours, maybe next time?”

Anger heated her breath. While she’d had no intention of shifting with him, he’d refused far too easily. “You’re not worried about werewolves attacking. You’re ready to kill Jordan if he changes.” How could Terrent consider himself Jordan’s friend and still want to kill him when there was even a chance of the virus being cured?

Terrent grabbed her arm, tugging toward the building. Warmth and raw strength flowed from his palm. “We’re not discussing this. Now you go underground to safety, and I’ll see you later.”

Maggie stumbled, reaching for her boot. Quick motions had the gun levered into Terrent’s ribs.

“What the hell?” He tried to pull back.

She fired three times.

Shock crossed his features. He released her. Most people tripped, fell, or tried to move away when shot with a tranquilizer. Not the wolf. He stood still, head cocked to the side, a deep frown between his masculine brows. “What did you do?”

The weapon remained steady in her hands as she settled her stance and aimed for his chest. “Just a simple dart—you’ll be fine in a couple of hours.”

Curiosity lit his eyes while his full mouth grimaced. “You drugged me?”

Well, not yet apparently. “Yes.”

Incredulousness flashed bright across his face. “Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?”

Fear spiraled deep before being shoved away by determination. “Not much.” She fired four more darts into his chest.

He growled low, lunging for her. The air swished. Gigantic hands enclosed her shoulders. They hit the ground together. Three hundred pounds of muscled male landed on top of her, knocking the air from her lungs. Panic zinged through her. She shoved him, but he didn’t move. His head dropped to the curve of her shoulder as he went limp.

“Terrent.” She tried to struggle beneath him, but he remained motionless. The guy was out.

Her abdomen compressed. The chilly ground ate into her clothing. She had to get him off while she could still breathe. He weighed a freakin’ ton. “Charlie,” she squeaked. “Charlie, where are you?”

The shifter slid from behind a tree, hustling to shove Terrent off. “Man, he’s a big wolf.” Doubt wrinkled Charlie’s forehead.

“Yeah.” Maggie sucked in big lungfuls of air. “Help me drag him to the helicopter.”

Charlie scratched his head. His Snoopy T-shirt glowed in the meager light of the emerging moon. He’d worn ripped jeans, tennis shoes, and a black hat for his foray into kidnapping. “I’m thinking this isn’t such a great idea.”

Yeah, she was thinking the same thing. “Listen. Terrent is a good guy, I know. But his job is to take out Jordan, someone whom Janie loves like an uncle. She asked you to help us and you said yes.” Manipulating the teenager wasn’t cool, but it was the only chance Maggie had. “You’d be doing the right thing.” In the long run, anyway. Short run, they might end up torn apart by a pissed-off wolf. “Trust me.”

Charlie groaned, grabbing Terrent by one armpit. “Anyone who tells you to trust them is about to get you in trouble.”

Smart kid. Maggie flashed him a grin, latching on to Terrent’s other side. For the briefest of seconds, she’d enjoyed being under the wolf. Something to worry about later.

Groaning, moaning, and tugging with all their strength, they managed to drag the man across the training field to the row of helicopters. His heels left huge divots in the grassy field. Several times his weight became too much, and one of them dropped his shoulder to the ground. His head inevitably followed. The wolf might have a concussion when he awoke. Finally, they reached the tarmac and released his arms. She wiped sweat off her brow. “You’re sure you know how to fly one of these things?”

“Yeah.” Charlie winced. “Though I don’t know how the heck we’re gonna get this guy up into one. He’s so damn heavy.”

Maggie nodded and shook out her hands. Panthers were notoriously good pilots—often learning as young as ten years old to fly. “Okay. Let’s just lift him one body part at a time.”

Charlie frowned, reaching for Terrent’s arm. “This is such an incredibly bad idea.” With a youthful shrug, he centered a knee inside the door. “At least he’s a wolf and not a panther leader. My Alpha will protect me. Well, probably.” With a grunt, he yanked Terrent up.

Maggie shoved. After several thuds and thunks, they had Terrent safe on the floor of the ’copter. His big head clunked loudly on the metal. She fought a wince. They wanted to get the wolf out of the way for the night, not give him brain damage. She jumped in and yanked the door shut. “All right. Let’s get out of here—head east and keep on going.”

Charlie maneuvered to sit in the pilot’s seat and began punching in buttons. “No girl is worth this,” he muttered.

Too little, too late, buddy. Maggie settled into a seat, her gaze on the downed wolf. He lay on his back, shoulders taking up the entire floor. Long, dark eyelashes feathered against his bronze cheeks—way too long for a man. In rest, or rather, in a drugged state, he still didn’t appear at peace. Even now, the sense of an alert predator danced across the tough features of his face. She wondered who had broken his nose, and if that person still breathed. Somehow, she doubted it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly. So far she’d kneed him in the balls and now knocked him out. A guy most people feared. A sadness chilled her. He was the only wolf she knew, and he really wasn’t going to like her now. The guy probably liked quiet, demure, classy women.

She failed on all counts.

Maybe he would’ve liked who she used to be before losing her memory. But considering nobody else liked her enough to be looking for her, she kind of doubted it. Besides, class was something you either had or didn’t have—memory loss wouldn’t impact that.

Whoever she used to be, she knew exactly who she was right now. Katie’s best friend. And that meant Maggie would do anything to help—even kidnap a killer.

The bird rose into the sky. Maggie clutched onto the seat, her stomach lurching. Man, she hated flying. Most wolves probably hated flying, right? Or maybe she was different in that way, too.

Moonlight glinted off the treetops outside. An urge rippled through her veins. After ten years, she could control the need to shift, but the effort cost her. Her legs moved restlessly, and her heart began to pound.

Needing to preoccupy herself, she studied the wolf. He’d worn a black T-shirt that only emphasized his muscular chest. Was that a six-pack? She glanced at Charlie. The kid concentrated on the night, his gaze out the windshield. Good. Leaning down, Maggie slid Terrent’s shirt up.

Oh yeah. Talk about ripped. Hesitantly, she slid her palm over the hard ridges of his abdominal muscles. Heated flesh warmed her skin. Desire flared bright through her. She bit her lip to keep from moaning.

A huge hand slapped over hers.

Oh God. The breath caught in her throat. Lifting her head, she stared into dark brown eyes more wolf than human.

With a tug, he landed her on top of him.

Panic had her struggling.

His other hand palmed her head, slamming her lips onto his. Need shot through her followed by pure, raw lust. He kissed her, tongue delving deep, an obvious erection pressing against her core.

Moaning, her mind whirling, Maggie grabbed the gun from her boot and shot him in the armpit.

He released her, and she levered away, mouth bruised and wanting. Rage rippled through his eyes. A menacing growl hissed from his chest. His eyes fluttered closed and his body went lax.

Holy crap. She scrambled off him, falling into her seat. A quick glance at Charlie showed the kid still concentrating on flying. Thank God.

She pressed a trembling hand to her lips. Her other hand held the dart gun pointed at the wolf. He’d be awake again soon. With a sigh, she yanked open the backpack and tugged out restraints. Imprisoning a wolf in a moving helicopter held so much risk her head began to spin. If he became angry enough, he could rip the entire machine apart.

Still, she secured his legs to metal hooks in each side, and then his arms. The locks she used were new ... and strong.

The wolf was probably stronger.

Minutes turned into an hour. Then another hour. The moon began to climb bright, beckoning her to jump from the helicopter and race through the woods. The wolf remained secured on the floor. Maybe the combination of darts had finally put him to sleep for the duration.

A third hour passed. His eyelids shot open. No fluttering, no confusion. Alert and ready, he took in the restraints, his head moving only slightly. “You’re taking your life into your hands here, little wolf.”

Hoarse, his voice wandered down her spine as if he licked her. A shiver vibrated her shoulders. “Stay still, and we all live.”

“I wasn’t talking about right this moment.” Half-lidded, the dark eyes promised retribution.

“Oh.” Well, yeah. The scary threat was made all the more frightening by the absolute promise behind the words. She struggled to keep her face stoic. “You’re mad, and that’s understandable. But you’d do the same thing for a friend.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Maybe.” She could reason with him. She had to reason with him. “Aren’t you a little glad you don’t have to kill Jordan?”

“No.” Fire burned hot and bright, turning Terrent’s eyes a blazing black. “If Jordan turns, he’s going to try to kill Katie. How exactly do you think he’d feel knowing I did nothing to protect his mate and their cub?”

“Katie can take care of herself.” Maggie fought the fear and doubt suddenly slamming into her gut.

“Against Jordan? The lion she’s loved since she was four?” Terrent’s head thunked onto hard metal as he shook it.

“Sometimes you need faith,” Maggie whispered.

“Have faith in this”—Terrent levered up, his gaze capturing hers—“you will pay for this. I promise.” Powerful muscles bunched in his shoulder as his left wrist tugged against the restraint.

Imaginary needles pricked through her arms. Oh God, not now. The inside of the helicopter began to tilt. She sucked in air, forcing oxygen into her lungs, making her chest expand. A panic attack right now would ruin everything.

Sweat danced on her palm. The dart gun began to slip. Putting both hands around the weapon, she tried to steady her aim. The gun wavered.

With a roar, Terrent yanked one leg free.

The craft rocked, air whizzing by outside.

Charlie shouted, quickly righting the beast. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it. We’re above mountains and there’s nowhere to land.”

Maggie fired. The dart went wide, pinging against the metal side and falling harmlessly to the floor.

Chain links blew apart with Terrent’s next pull, freeing his other leg. Faster than imaginable, he shot his feet around her, yanking her toward him.

She fell on his hard chest, dots flashing across her vision. The air swished from her lungs. Like a guppy, she opened her mouth, fighting for oxygen. Panic buzzed in her ears. Full-on attack coming.

His hands remained shackled to the sides.

Levering up, she tried to get off him. His thighs clapped hard against her rib cage, trapping her. Pressing the air out of her.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked to clear them. Her startled gaze met the furious one of the man below her.

He tightened his hold. “Drop the gun.”

Pain lanced into her ribs. If he pushed any harder, they might break. After ten years of training, she still hadn’t realized how thighs could be a weapon. A very effective weapon. Struggling to breathe, struggling to keep calm, she allowed the gun to drop from her hand. The gun hit the floor and bounced.

His hold loosened just enough to allow her to take a shallow breath.

Keeping her gaze, holding her hostage, he yanked one hand free. Chain links zinged around the helicopter, and she ducked to avoid getting smacked in the head. A quick glance to the left relieved her somewhat in that he’d torn the shackle apart, but not the side of the craft.

Her relief died a quick death.

The other wrist shackle gave way without even a protest.

Man, he was strong.

The anxiety attack hit full bore. Her vision wavered. Pinpricks nailed her from every direction, her skin protesting. She began to pant, unable to breathe. A low moan spilled from her chest.

Her eyes opened wide, but she couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. Her shoulders began to convulse.

“What’s wrong?” Terrent asked.

She shook her head, her mouth opening and closing. Bile rippled up her throat. A soft moan escaped her.

Strong hands manacled around her biceps. Without warning, the world tilted and she found herself facing away from him, sitting between his dangerous thighs, her butt on the floor of the craft. He palmed the back of her head, lowering her face between her knees. She shut her eyes.

“Breathe.” Low, soothing, no hint of anger remained in the wolf’s voice. His scorching hot palm rested against her upper back, her entire upper back. Slowly, he slid down to her tailbone and back up. “Deep breaths.” He growled low. “Keep flying, kid. I’ll deal with you in a minute.” He continued the soft caress. “Keep breathing, little wolf. It’ll be okay.”

For several moments she stayed in place, allowing him to comfort her. The pain in her skin receded. Her lungs relaxed. Finally, she could breathe.

Still trembling a little, her shoulders straightened. Her eyes opened to see the bottom of the craft. “I’m sorry.”

His hand stopped the gentle movements. “For what?”

Well, for the panic attack. She always apologized for some crazy reason. “Um, for kidnapping you?” It was the right answer. Probably.

His hands on her hips flipped her around to face him. Still inside his legs, she felt trapped. Well, and kind of safe. Protected in a totally weird way that made no sense, especially since the anger he’d kept from his voice was stamped all over his strong face.

She tried to move back, and his hands clenched.

“No moving.” Turning his head, he focused toward the front. “Turn around and head back to Realm Headquarters. Now.”

Charlie glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide.

Maggie swallowed. Then she gave a quick nod. The flight would take another three hours to get back. The fight would be over ... and either Jordan would be a werewolf, or he wouldn’t.

She focused on the wolf. “You would’ve done the same thing.”

He slowly shook his head. “No. You’re lucky I have to return to headquarters.”

Yeah, so he could maybe kill Jordan. Maggie lifted her chin. “Why is that?”

His eyebrow rose. Anger still swirled in his dark eyes. “Because I’d be taking you to my people, otherwise.”

She forced a smile, not quite brave enough to break his hold. “I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

His smile almost caused another panic attack. “Oh, this is just a short reprieve, little wolf. We’re nowhere near done.”