Spiked (The Sundance Series Book 1), page 6
"I can take it from here, witches," Lucas said. These screw-ups do anything else to her and she'll end up dead. Then what use will she be to me?
"You'll do no such thing, shifter." Bossy git.
"Witch, you will find I do almost any such thing I please." That cat T-shirt is the most repulsive thing I have ever laid eyes on, and I once saw a man flayed alive.
Their thoughts hurtled into my brain at Mach speed. It was as if twenty people were trying to hold a conversation with me at once. I slapped my hands over my ears, but the voices wouldn't stop. They thrust into my skull, backing me to the cliff edge of sanity.
I dug a hole in my mind and attempted to bury the voices in it. It was a trick I'd taught myself as a child, a way to deal with the knotted threads of thoughts and voices that tangled in my brain. I dug and pushed, but the voices kept coming. I wanted to scream, but that would only make my head pound worse.
"Stop. Please make it stop." My voice tapered to a whisper as I dug my fingers into my head, my nails scoring my flesh, sending bites of pain into my scalp.
…use a sleeping spell, give Dottie and me time to work…
…Dolores is going to be furious if we don't get to keep the car…
…the baker's niece looks ill. Should I suggest to Alpha that we contact her uncle? If I take her home, I can see Farrah…
…never should have suggested this. We can do it without the telepath…
…very hot. Firm nine.
"Stop thinking." Sobbing, I tried to crawl away from the cacophony, but they all followed.
Can you hear me, Neely? Lucas's voice stood apart from the others due to its directness.
"Yes."
Excellent. It worked. "Excellent. She's back to normal. You witches should be especially pleased, as this means I won't have to snap your wretched necks after all."
Dolores harrumphed. "As if you could."
Dottie bent over me and chanted something in a language I didn't know. I saw the shadowed flat of her hand a moment before it slapped my forehead and sent power rocketing through my skull. An explosion of pain savaged the forefront of my brain, a jet fuel blast of heat. I screamed.
The witch cried out and backed away from me, holding her hand to her chest as if it hurt. "Oh dear. This is … unfortunate."
"What is it, Dot?" More bad news. I knew we should have waited until the tower had awakened to spell-cast. It's too soon.
"The bad news is, we don't get to keep the car."
"And the good news?" Lucas demanded. She had better be able to read thoughts or I'll see these witches dropped in a bottomless well.
"There is none. The worse news is, now she's got no control of the thoughts coming at her. So many voices in her head." You poor thing.
All the while they were talking, thinking, I'd been dragging myself away from them. I tried to stand, but my body, like my mind, had overloaded. It wouldn't work right. My head felt ready to explode. My clothes choked me. My skin was too tight. I couldn't breathe from the pressure in my chest.
"What are you doing?" Lucas demanded as he circled in front of me. "Stop moving."
"Hurts. It hurts." I head-butted his shin. "I'm choking. I can't breathe, can't think, can't … stand it."
Dottie whispered, "Here, Alpha Blacke. Try this."
He took something from the witch, rolled it in his palm. "What is it?"
I missed her reply as I sank deeper into my symptoms. I shivered because I was cold. Sweated because I was boiling hot. Clawed at my clothes. Off. They were too tight and I hated them as much as I hated Lucas Blacke. With my top was scrunched up around my neck, I fell face-first into the dirt and shook uncontrollably. My teeth chattered so hard I was afraid I'd chip a tooth.
"You just carry this kind of stuff around?" Lucas asked.
"Well, sure. For emergencies," Dottie replied.
"Do not tell me what sort of emergencies you would need something like this for." Lucas cocked his head to one side. "On second thought, tell me. I'm dying of curiosity."
"Geez Louise shifter, hurry up and use the damn stuff," Dolores muttered.
"This better be safe." Lucas lifted me into his arms. Sorry about this. "Sorry about this, sugar cookie. Open up."
"Don't call me—"
He squirted something into my mouth that tasted the way hate felt. My lungs filled with iron, my jaw fell slack. I was reminded of when the poacher stuck me with the hypodermic needle.
Oh my God, he drugged me.
"You ashhole. What d'you think you're…"
The world fell silent.
Chapter Six
I'd been cold for so long. Months, years, decades.
Now, suddenly, I was warm.
Hungry for more heat, I wriggled closer to the warmth. Moaned. So good. I'd never, ever get enough. I wrapped myself around the source and basked in the blissful silence in my overwrought brain.
"If you don't stop grinding against me and squeezing me with your thighs, I'm going to end up inside you. Knowing how much you dislike me, I don't think basking in the afterglow will be your first instinct when it's over and there are sharp objects in this room."
"What?" I forced my eyes to open.
I was in a cabin of some sort. A bedroom. Rustic wood walls, floors, ceiling, door—small, but cozy. A worn, red Persian rug covered most of the wood floor. Antique metal stars hung in a scattered pattern over one wall. On the wall to the left of the doorway was a small, open closet. Men's and women's clothing hung inside. A queen bed covered with a thick, luxurious gold comforter dominated the room.
And I was on that queen bed, under that gold comforter. With Lucas Blacke.
Naked.
Well, topless, anyway. My shorts, shirt, and bra lay in a pile on the floor beside the bed, but my panties remained in place. My legs were clamped around Lucas's waist, my arms linked around his neck. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of what felt like jeans to my inner thighs and my silver necklace. The gumball-sized charm dug into my sternum. An uncomfortable reminder of the relief the man had stolen from me.
"You roofied me, you unbelievable jerk."
"Calm down. It was some herb-magic sleep tincture the witches had, not Rohypnol or anything like that. Strange it had that effect on you. Or maybe you wanted me and the tincture was a convenient excuse. You dragged me into bed, after all." His self-satisfied grin made me want to choke him.
"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no." I mashed my face into his muscled shoulder—dear God his skin smelled good, like soap and sunshine and an earthy something all his own—and spoke in a tiny voice. "Did we do it?"
"No. Though not for your lack of trying. I may be a bastard, but I don't have sex with women who are out of their minds. However, if you continue rubbing yourself against my erection, I might consider making an exception. You're awake now, after all."
"Ugh. Why do you have to be so disgusting?"
"What? It's natural to become aroused when a beautiful, naked woman straddles you and starts moaning in your ear. I'm as hard as a titanium rod. You should—"
"Shush." I jerked back in his arms and slapped my hand over his mouth. His eyes danced down to my breasts, which were now in his line of sight, so I dropped my hand and hugged myself close to him again.
"Tempting Neely." His voice rumbled in my ear, growly soft. "I have a thing for women with smooth brown skin, curly chestnut hair, and dark autumn eyes." He ran his fingers beneath my hair and pulled me back far enough for him to see my face clearly. "And freckles. Damn. I've always been a sucker for freckles. Do you have them in other places, too? I haven't had time to check."
I glared at him. "Ass."
"Really? Let me see."
Covering my breasts with one arm, I flung myself away from him. "You are the most annoying—unh." Mental noise immediately crashed back into my head, making me realize how quiet it had been while I was snuggled up to Lucas.
What did I say? Didn't even call her sugar cookie this time…
Guard duty? I'm a coyote, not a dog.
So bored … I hope that fool does attack … love to throw down about now…
Too many loud, busy brains. Lucas's and the ones outside. I slapped my hands over my ears and tucked my elbows over my breasts. Shoved myself off the bed and against the bedroom wall, rested my forehead on my knees as I crammed myself into the corner by the closet.
Wonder what they're doing in there … grunts and moans and sighs … sounds like sex.
Nice, Amir. Lucas's security team was broadcasting loud and clear. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the nausea.
What's wrong with her? She was fine a second ago. Wait. I wonder…
Can you hear me?
"Yes," I whispered, "I can. All four of you. Make it stop. Please."
"Do you want me to send them away?"
"Umph." The voices crowded in then, creating a sort of static dialogue. Each voice was indistinguishable from the others, melding into a fist of noise that right-hooked into my skull.
Lucas's bare feet made no sound as he exited the room, though I saw him walk out. Then I heard him. "Go. Leave us alone. I have to figure this out."
Bad idea. "What about the boar?"
"That's your job, Chandra. If he makes another stupid move, bring him in."
The voices faded out of my head.
Lucas returned. He slid a fresh bedsheet around my body, smoothed the cool fabric over my shoulders and back. He lifted my hair, letting my curls fall slowly through his fingers as I pulled the sheet ends around me.
"Better?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Why did you ask the witches to get rid of your telepathy?" He kept his voice soft and low.
"I didn't go there intending to. It just happened. The original plan was for them to help me with my headaches. Della said they helped her with insomnia and my uncle mentioned a witch once helped him with his arthritis, so I wanted to see if they'd help me."
"Headaches?" Do we have medication for that here? His stray thought leaked through my hastily erected mental block. It was more exhausting than usual to keep it up, so I let it fall away.
"It takes energy not to read people's thoughts. I get headaches from the effort."
"Why do you even try?" He leaned against the bed, arms crossed over his knees.
"It's one of my rules. I don't read people."
Of course it is. "Sounds about right. You have an ability that probably only point-oh-oh-one percent of one percent of people possess, so, of course you'd want to suppress it. Seems like something a person like you would do." Could she be any more naïve?
The man annoyed me in thought and speech. "You don't know me well enough to know that."
"You always wash your recyclables before putting them in the bin, don't you? Even the peanut butter jars?" He smirked. "Am I right?" Probably washes her plastic bags, too.
I gritted my teeth. "People deserve their privacy."
"Sometimes. Sometimes not. Smart that you opened a café where you're forced to block people all day long. You make good decisions."
"Shut up." But I thought it was interesting that Lucas picked up on that, where my tío, though he loved and worried over me, never had.
Explains a lot. "No wonder you're such a grouch."
"I am not a grouch." My teeth were going to be nubs by the time I got home if I didn't change the subject. "What is this place?"
"A cabin."
"I can see that. Whose cabin and where exactly are we?"
"Mine. Mountains between the witch tower and town. Half hour walk from the highway. Probably longer for you. Can't get here by road, humans would have to hike in, bike in, or helo in—if they could find it at all."
"How did I get here?"
In my arms. "I carried you. I'm very strong and fast."
"And humble." I tugged the sheet closer. "Tell me why I don't hear anyone's thoughts when you're touching me."
"That's not true. I touched you earlier and you were hearing them."
"Touch me again."
Yes.
"Think polite thoughts, Lucas."
Damn. Almost forgot..
He tugged down the sheet wrapped around me to reveal my shoulders and grasped my bare upper arms.
Can you hear me?
"Yes."
"Maybe that's not close enough." He straddled my legs and put both arms around me. The charm on my necklace around his neck bounced back and forth between our chests.
"How can you even wear that, anyway? Aren't shifters allergic to silver?"
"It's cute that you think those witches would give you a real silver necklace. Okay, listen…"
Can … hear…
"Not as clearly. I only got half the words."
More skin then. He rose, lifting me to my feet with him, jerked the sheet away, and crushed my bare chest to his. He moved fast so I didn't have time to think about it, though my body reacted as if this were the most natural thing on earth and pressed close. He was warm. Strong. Hard and soft at the same time…
I made myself concentrate on his thoughts.
"If you're thinking to me, I can't hear you."
"That's it, then. Got to say, although parts of me are extremely happy about this, it could get awkward. I'm going to have to carry you in a sling across my chest like a baby." He laughed, and I laughed too, because even though it sucked, it was also just weird enough to be funny.
"The necklace is hurting my ribs."
"Here. Let me take it off."
He flung it on the bed and pulled me close again. I slumped forward, shut my eyes, and tried to relax my neck and jaw.
God, she smells good. Her breasts feel like heaven against my chest. I need to get laid. It's been too long.
"I can hear you and you're a perv."
"What the heck? You were just—ha!" Lucas brightened. "I've got it. Should have known those witches would get things assbackwards. It's not about opening the charm, it's the charm itself."
Two fingers slipped beneath my chin and gently tipped my head up. He dropped the silver necklace over my head.
Blissful silence. True and complete.
"You want me to read someone today? No."
"You will. You owe me."
I wrapped the sheet tightly around my body and pulled my legs beneath me on the bed. "Owe you? Lucas, it was your presence that messed up the spell. I lost my car and my uncle isn't exactly thrilled about me calling in today. Especially when I wouldn't tell him why."
"Don't be dramatic. Your uncle will forgive you and you still have your car because the spell technically failed. Also, if I had to pinpoint a reason for the spell fizzing out, I'd go with the drunken spell-casting witches. I counted nine empty bottles of wine at that hot spring. I don't know how they were upright."
My eyes darted sideways. "I may have helped with the wine."
"That explains your breath."
"And my inexplicable trust in you."
His pupils dilated, and a lazy smile crawled across his handsome lips. Did he like it when I snapped at him? Weirdo. "You don't trust me. Even after I romantically carried you off to my cabin in the mountains."
"Drugging and kidnapping someone is not romantic, you ass."
"The drugs were the witches' idea. And I had to do something, you were losing it. Please note I didn't press my advantage at any point. Not even when you ripped off your clothes and begged—"
"I did not beg."
"—me to take you. I also helped you figure out that whole necklace thing." He moved to the bedroom doorway, stretched his arms over his head to grip the doorframe. The muscles on his tanned, shirtless chest flexed and drool pooled at the corners of my mouth. "I've been a real fucking gentleman and you know it."
It was a shame the gods had wasted so much handsome on this guy. Not to judge, but perhaps they might have held back a little on the hotness and invested time into crafting the man a decent personality.
Sighing, I played with the edge of the sheet. "I wish you'd flex more and talk less. If you did I'd probably do whatever you asked me to."
"You'll do what I ask anyway. You owe me for figuring out the necklace."
"You're a real Prince Charming, Lucas Blacke."
"Yeah?" The man had the nerve to look intrigued. "I've always seen myself more as a Captain Hook."
"It's exhausting talking to you." I bent down to pick my clothes up off the floor. "Can I take a shower now? You said I could right before you started bossing me around."
"Yeah. There are clean clothes in the closet. You should find something that fits you. A few of the female shifters have left stuff here."
"People just leave clothes here?"
"We're shifters. We leave clothes everywhere. Doesn't your uncle leave clothes all over the place when he shifts?"
"Uh, no. And he's never actually shifted in front of me. He always does it in another room." Except for when the poacher tried to kill me. He'd started shifting then, though I passed out before he finished.
"You've never seen his transformation? Huh. Maybe he doesn't trust you."
I clenched my teeth. "I seriously hate you right now."
"Hate me while you shower. I need to get in there, too."
Chapter Seven
We spent the morning waiting. I assumed for whomever Lucas wanted me to read, though I hadn't agreed to read anyone and had zero plans to do so. Whenever I told him this, he either argued with me, ignored me, or distracted me. His latest distraction had come in the form of peanut butter cups.
The man was relentless.
Regardless of how I felt about its owner, I had to admit that I liked the cabin. Curtains drawn and air conditioner blasting, it had the cool, cozy feel of a rustic mountain getaway. However, one glance out the window revealed a setting of desert brush atop silty dirt; tall, dry hills pockmarked with iguana, Gila monster, and tortoise burrows; and the panoramic outline of purple-brown mountains against a cloudless electric blue sky. Hardly a mountaintop view, but beautiful all the same.
I let the curtain fall over the hot window glass and faced Lucas and the living room. There was no television in the place, for which I was grateful, but I also didn't see a radio. Only a sofa and a couple chairs, another of those worn Persian rugs, and several pine bookshelves stocked with old paperback mysteries lining the wall. The top shelf of the center one held a few framed photos of people I didn't recognize and a box of candles that hadn't been lit.
