Author's Note: We're getting close to the end of this story now. I'm sorry for how long it took for me to get this chapter up; real life intervened. Chapter 12 is already written, and it's an extra-long one to make up for the delay. As a further note, this chapter and the two, maybe three, following it are written with interweaved POVs. Each individual character's POV is linear, but they don't all start at the same time or advance at the same pace. They will all meet up and synch again, but some characters had more to do in this time period than others.
As always, you can check my profile for updates.
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Samson paused as he approached the front door. A trail of black dots led out of the house onto the driveway. He ceded control to his wolf, who took a deep breath through their nose.
Blood
, Moonshadow growled in his mind, confirming Samson's suspicion.
Not Shines-With-Love or Huntress-Defiant-Of-Wounds
, Moonshadow said a few seconds later, using his names for Bekkah and Susannah. A savage, feral growl rose in their throat as their thoughts synchronized.
Intruder
.
They pushed the door open and peeked around the frame. Inside was a scene from an abattoir. Sticky, near-black blood was splattered all over, even reaching the ceiling. At the center of a brighter red pool lay the source of the gore.
A man, maybe an inch short of six feet tall, sprawled across the entryway. His shirt, once white, was now stained a deep crimson. What was left of it, anyway. The shirt, and the flesh beneath it, were torn to ribbons around the man's belly, and his entrails spilled out onto the hardwood floor. Nor was it his only wound. The man's throat lay bare to the spine, torn out by tooth or claw. There was no sign of a weapon on him.
Defiant Huntress defended the pack
, Moonbeam's-Shadow thought with a note of pride and approval.
She did
, Samson agreed,
but there was more than one invader
. If there'd only been the one, one of the girls would've called him. The only way his first indication of an intruder would be this corpse was if both girls were incapacitated.
The fact that Moonshadow could only smell one source of blood eased their fears, but they eased their way into the house anyway. They had to be sure. Their eyes scanned every corner and cranny for threats or signs of what happened to Bekkah and Susannah.
Gouges in the hallway were their first clue. They knelt and examined the hardwood floor.
Claws. Susannah's, probably,
Samson concluded.
Smells like her,
Moonbeam's-Shadow agreed.
The second clue came further down the hall, a fluffy towel discarded against the wall, still damp to the touch. The bathroom door stood open, and the light inside was on.
Did they get attacked out of the shower? But that would mean...
...Intruders were waiting for us to leave
, Moonshadow filled in.
How did we not notice?
They continued the search through the rest of the house but came up empty. "This isn't the work of a random home invasion," Samson concluded as they made their way back to the entry hall. "No normal group of thugs could've stood against Susannah."
Special training, special gear
, Moonshadow agreed.
No blood from our pack. Planned to steal them away without hurting them.
"And the way this went down, they're well-coordinated and well-connected. There's only one possibility I can see."
Otis
, came the hate-filled growl from within.
"OTS," Samson said with a nod. "They came for Susannah and took our little girl in the bargain. I might have let the first pass if it wasn't in our own home..."
...But no one touches our mate without permission
, Moonshadow said, finishing his thought.
"There's no hope of catching them before they return to their base," Samson said. "They have between a half-hour and an hour's head start, and they'll have a flight waiting for them. We need to clean up this mess so there's still a home for us to return to. Then I think it's time for the Greenville Ghost to come out of retirement and take a road trip."
---
An intense headache throbbed behind Bekkah's eyes, making her regret waking up. She tried to pull her pillow over her head, only to find cold metal binding her hands together behind her back. Her eyes flew open. A whimper and a wince followed as the bright light sent daggers into her eyes. A few moments later, Bekkah risked another, more cautious, look.
An unfamiliar room greeted her. The walls were stark white and undecorated. Tilting her head to look around her, Bekkah couldn't see any furniture other than the gurney-like bed underneath her. There wasn't even a chair to sit on. Of course, since a pair of shiny steel manacles secured her feet to the bed, it didn't matter much.
No more than five minutes after she woke up, the lone door opened to admit a tall, lanky man in a white lab coat. He gave Bekkah a friendly smile and closed the door behind her. "Good, you're awake. I'm glad to see our field operatives managed to work out the correct dose for you. It would've been a tragedy to lose you, Miss Jacobs." He paused and tapped his chin. "Or would you prefer Missus Jacobs?"
Bekkah's tongue felt swollen, and her throat was dry. "Where am I? What do you want with me? Where's Anna?" She recognized this stranger's question as an attempt to build empathy and rapport and wanted nothing to do with it.
If her refusal to engage upset the man, he didn't show it. "You are in the Office of Therianthrope Study's Everglades secure research facility," he said. Surprise filled Bekkah at his candid answer, and it must have shown on her face because he chuckled and smiled at her again. "We have no reason to hide anything from you, Miss Jacobs. Indeed, we want your cooperation. As for Miss Dixon, she's been reunited with her family. They missed her terribly."
Dixon? Susannah's last name, maybe? Come to think of it, she'd never said. If so... "Her rapists, you mean. Your plan for me as well?"
The man's face tightened a fraction at Bekkah's accusation. "Is that what she told you?" He shook his head and sighed. "Young Susan has always been the rebel. She has never once been forced to engage in any form of sexual activity without her active consent, and we have the video and audio records to prove it."
"Forced or coerced consent isn't," Bekkah growled.
"Miss Jacobs, I assure you, Miss Dixon is far too valuable to us here at Otis to risk physical or psychological damage in such a manner. She represents a potentially staggering leap forward in our understanding of therianthropy. Each time we approached her on the subject, Miss Dixon was given the right to refuse—and no punishments have ever been levied against her for the handful of times when she did." The man's voice was firm, confident, and authoritative. "Nor her family members, as it happens."
A tiny thread of doubt began to worm its way through Bekkah's mind. Did Anna lie about what happened to her? Then she remembered the instant, visceral, violent reaction the werepanther had when she smelled Bekkah's father's scent on her. Her resolve returned. "I don't believe you," she said. "And you didn't answer my question."
The OTS researcher's face grew harder still. "Miss Jacobs, regardless of whatever tales Miss Dixon spun for you, you are an intelligent woman. Please, tell me what point there would be in raping a pregnant woman? What possible scientific benefit could there be? Even if what Miss Dixon told you were true, wouldn't we have other outlets for whatever sadistic lusts she described? And if not, would we have bothered to dress you?"
"For all I know, you want to study what it takes to break a mate bond," Bekkah replied. "And I hardly call putting a hospital gown on me dressing me. You invaded my home, kidnapped me, and tied me to a bed. What reason do I have to trust you?"
"Very little, I admit. We would've preferred to approach you openly," the man said, losing some of the tension in his face and voice. "Unfortunately, Miss Dixon's presence complicated matters. She's too unstable for us to risk it. If she found out you'd talked to us, she might have killed you and fled."
