Enemy Mine

Chapter Fifteen

Mary gasped when she was tossed to the ground, landing with a thump when her ass connected with the hard floor. Emory didn’t follow her, taking up the space on the other side of the bed facing the door. She’d heard Nathan’s furious bellow, knew something was wrong, but she hadn’t had time to comprehend anything. The moment he’d called out Emory had moved away from her, shoved her from the bed and launched off the mattress.

“Stay down.” The words were more of a snarl. Emory didn’t sound like a man, his baritone deeper. “No matter what happens, don’t move.”

The door burst open and her heart dropped to her stomach. She recognized the man standing in front of her. He’d not only ruined her life but he’d ruined every hope and dream she’d had as a woman. Even now he appeared larger than he was, more monster than a man. He lifted his hand and pointed a sleek-looking gun at Emory.

How did he find me? What do I do?

“It appears I’ve arrived just in time. I’ve come for my niece.” Elijah Shepherd spoke in the way Mary hated, his calm and collected manner nothing more than pretense. She’d fallen victim to the tone on more than one occasion, even after he’d beaten her the first time. For some reason she’d continued to hope that maybe he would change, that perhaps he’d finally grasped what he was doing was wrong, only to discover he seemed to enjoy being nice before he revealed his sadistic nature.

“My mate,” Emory emphasized the word, growling as he blocked her from view, “isn’t going anywhere with you. You’re in my domain now. The rules have changed. You won’t get away with throwing your weight around here.”

Elijah’s lips quirked. “We’ll see about that.”

Emory charged for the door but didn’t make it to his target, was stopped at the halfway mark. The blaring roar of gunfire that Mary expected didn’t happen. Instead she heard odd airy noises. Elijah pulled the trigger twice and each time Emory’s body jerked. Then, as if she was watching a film, he went to his knees and fell facedown. A loud noise pierced the air, ringing in her ears. It wasn’t until Elijah stepped around Emory’s body—a red stain spreading beneath his still form—that she realized she was screaming.

A shirt—Emory’s T-shirt—slapped her in the face. “Get up and get dressed. You should be ashamed of yourself, bedding with one of them like a common whore. You should be grateful your parents aren’t alive to see you now, to know what you’ve become.”

She shook her head, wanting to wake up, thinking it had to be a bad dream. Emory wasn’t dead. A gun wasn’t pointed in her face. She’d wake up and she’d be safe and sound in bed. Nightmares like these were common. She just had to wake up.

Damn it, wake up!

“Don’t make me ask again.”

It’s not a dream. She gazed past the barrel, looking into the face of her uncle. Somehow she managed to manipulate her shaking fingers and slip into Emory’s shirt. Her thoughts were scrambled, fear and disbelief swirling together.

“Why?” A stupid question, to be sure. Why did he do anything?

Acceptance made her calm, just as it had when she’d been abused and belittled. Her relative had been raised with the belief that what he was doing was right. He’d attempted to instill those same morals in her, using physical force when she didn’t comply, hoping to beat his demented logic into her head.

“Stand up. I don’t want to kill you in this den of depravity but I will. God forgive me for wanting to bury you properly with a prayer to see you off. It’s a wasted effort but you are family, no matter your sins.”

“We have to get something first.” She wasn’t sure how she managed to think clearly, to buy more time. Maybe it was from learning to function under pressure, or perhaps it was because she didn’t want to leave Emory behind. Either way, if she was going to die, she preferred it be here—under her terms.

“No. If you delay our departure I’ll have no choice but to pull the trigger.”

He tugged her arm, aiding her when she rose to her feet. Her eyes flicked to Emory. Something deep inside her knew he wasn’t dead yet. She’d know if he was. But that didn’t mean he didn’t need help. When she tried to make a dash for him, Elijah placed the barrel of the gun against the back of her head.

“I will kill you,” he warned.

She knew he would, and he’d do it with little or no remorse. In his eyes she had fallen. There was no redemption. Once a person accepted a shifter into their life, or worse, their bed, they were beyond salvation. Burying her with a prayer was Elijah’s sick way of showing the family he was doing the right thing, even if it meant killing one of his own.

Standing straight, she kept her voice even, determined not to break down or appear weak. “You’re going to want the map before you go. If they keep it, you’re fucked.”

She stumbled when he slapped the back of her head, sending her hair across her face, forcing her to step forward or fall. “You will show me proper respect. Don’t think because you’ve slept with the spawn from Hell you weren’t taught better. Now move.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she walked past Emory. Leaving him was more than an emotional pain, it also seared through her physically. Everything inside her screamed to turn around, to protect the male who’d stood between her and a gun. There was only thing to do, one way to slow Elijah down. Nathan had called out for them, so maybe he’d contacted the pack and told them what to expect.

Buy more time.

“The map has to be downstairs,” she said and exited the bedroom. “They have all your addresses. You’re not safe.”

“What are you talking about?” Elijah guided her toward a set of stairs, nudging her to go faster with the gun that was now pressed against her lower back.

“Mom and Dad left it for me,” she whispered, staring in horror at Nathan’s body resting in the middle of the staircase. Below him two men also rested, their chests covered in blood. Both of them were dead but one had died with his eyes open—his gaze directed at Nathan—with a gun in his hand.

“Bless them, Father,” Elijah murmured. She felt the gun jab into her spine. “You have thirty seconds to do as I say. No more, no less. Walk down the stairs and take a right. We’re leaving.”

Thirty seconds? Her uncle started whispering the 23rd Psalm, sending his comrades to the other side with his best wishes.

Better talk fast then.

“Mom and Dad gave me a map of all the Shepherd compounds in the United States. Including yours,” she said quickly. “Emory took it after I arrived.”

He stopped mid-prayer, narrowing his eyes, shadowed jaw clenching in anger. “You’re lying.”

“What purpose would that serve?” She posed the question cautiously, trying to appear meek. “You’re already here. I’m going to die. Lying isn’t going to help.”

“You could be trying to delay your death,” he said flatly.

Shit. “Or I could be saving the lives of innocent people, including children.” She held her breath, waiting to see if he’d believe what she said.

“Take me to it.” Again he butted the gun against her back. “You’ve bought yourself a minute.”

Telling him that she didn’t know where the map was wouldn’t work. There was an edge to his voice now—impatience and worry. He had to know the pack would return and he couldn’t remain in Diskant’s home for long. Her stomach churned at the thought. That was what had happened to Ava. Elijah had to be responsible.

What had he done to her?

Swallowing several times to combat the lemony taste of bile in her throat, she walked to the left. She didn’t know where she was going but the best place to start was anywhere aside from where Elijah wanted to take her. Exits were dangerous, so that meant the kitchen she’d visited was off limits. She passed the large room, acting as if she knew where she was going, when she saw another room to the right. The lighting was dark and she could see several chairs in front of what looked like a desk.

An office? Please God, let it be an office. It would take more than a minute to sort through drawers and papers. If she could just hold on, keep her uncle distracted…

“Your time is almost up. Get the map.” She realized he wasn’t going to follow her into the room when she stepped inside and the feel of the gun against her back vanished. Then he started counting back. “Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven…”

All she had left was an act, to pretend she knew what she was looking for. She raced to one of the cabinets against the wall and started sorting through files, all the while listening while he counted. When he hit twenty, her heart throbbed. When he hit ten she thought she might faint. Paper after paper slipped through her numb, worthless fingers. This was it. She was going to die. At least she’d had the chance to meet Emory, to know what it felt like to be loved.

Shock had her lifting her head. Outside the house, horrific growls and snarls started up, as though a pit bull was in the middle of a fight for its life. Within seconds she heard men shouting. A statue on the top of the cabinet caught her attention, the large glass form of a wolf the perfect size for her hand. She went for it, ready to take her final stand.

“Rest in peace,” Elijah said softly. “God save your soul.”

She spun around with the statue in hand, lifting her arm in the same motion, and cried out when something hit her left shoulder. She met Elijah’s eyes and threw the object at him, unable to do anything more. He’d pointed the gun at her head when Mary heard a low, threatening growl and saw a dark blur behind him. She sank to the floor—using the cabinet for balance—and watched as Oscar attacked Elijah. The dog jumped onto his back and latched on to the back of his neck with his large jaws. Her uncle screamed as he slammed to his knees. Oscar growled, yanking his head from side to side. Blood streamed from the wounds the raging canine created, splattering on the ground when Elijah toppled to the floor.

It sounded as if a door was smashed in the distance. Mary held her breath, trying to listen past the vicious growls. Heavy footsteps approached and she heard someone curse. The dog let go of its prey, looked to the side and snarled at someone Mary couldn’t see. This time, there was no poof. The gunshot was loud, resounding in the house. Oscar yelped when he was hit in the chest, knocking him back. Then she heard the poor creature whining miserably, a horrible high-pitched sound.

Not Oscar. No. No. No.

Snap out of it. Someone has a gun. Run.

She knew she left a trail of blood when she crawled behind the desk but she didn’t care. If whoever had shot the dog wanted her, she wasn’t going to make it easy for them. They’d have to find her. She moved the chair and hid under the large structure, trying not to cry or make any noise. Covering her mouth with her hand, she waited, the seconds ticking by agonizingly slow.

“Dear Lord,” someone muttered and stopped close by. “He’s hurt bad. Put your jacket around his neck. We have to stop the bleeding.”

“We have to get him out of here,” another man said. “There isn’t much time.”

“What about the girl?” The voice sounded strained, as if the man was lifting something.

A grunt, then the other man answered, “A matter best left for another day.”

Shuffling sounds followed, then silence. Aside from the snarling taking place outside the house, Mary didn’t know what was going on. She desperately wanted to go to Emory to see if he’d survived, but she was frozen in place. When she heard a loud ticking sound accompanied by an infuriated snarl she bowed over her knees and rested her forehead on her hands, rocking back and forth. Panic made her nauseous, the familiar waves rolling through her.

What if the shifters decided she wasn’t worth it? What if Diskant and Emory couldn’t protect her as they’d promised? Would the pack kill her quickly? Or would they make her suffer for the loss of their own?

The noise came closer, then closer. When the office door slammed closed she jumped. Her pulse pounded in her ears so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else. Then she felt something staring at her. All she could do was wait, doomed to meet her end in whatever form it came. She knew she should have fled. Everything she touched was toxic, poisoned by her presence.

The low whine was unexpected, as was the warm swipe of a tongue against her arm. She cringed at first, too afraid to look, when she felt she felt the same sensation—this time over her knuckles. She carefully lifted her head, gazing past her knees. Her breath caught when she met a pair of glowing amber-colored eyes—eyes she knew only too well. He was huge like this, far larger than Oscar or any other dog in his wolf form. Her attention flew to his chest, where she knew bullets had struck. The wounds were still there, blood oozing from the holes.

“Emory?”

He whined again, inching closer, and she had her answer.

The tears she’d kept at bay crashed through her defenses, making her vision blur and her eyes burn. She reached for him, recognizing him on levels she didn’t fully understand. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her face against his neck. She wasn’t going to ask how he’d survived, grateful for a second chance. As though he felt her anguish, he moved his head slightly, the warmth of his breath grazing her ear.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded when he moved from her embrace, breaking free of her arms. Fear and built-up tension combined, making her lightheaded. “Please, don’t go.”

His response was a swift nuzzle of her cheek, his nose chilly against her skin. He didn’t go far, stopping a couple feet away and lowering his head. There was nothing amazing about witnessing him change forms. In fact, it looked painful. His bones changed shape as fur receded, revealing the tanned flesh she’d been so eager to touch minutes before. He seemed to shrink and expand in certain places, his whine changing to a groan.

She rested her head against her arms near the end, hating to be the cause of his pain, unable to watch him finish.

The change had never been so fucking difficult. Emory wanted to make it fast and spare Mary the horror of seeing him shift forms this early on in their mating. He’d thought he’d be able to take her someplace special, Ava’s cabin in Tennessee, perhaps. There he and Mary would make love under the afternoon sun, exhausting all their strength. Later he would introduce her to the side of him that ached for her as much as the man. Unfortunately the silver inside his body slowed his transformation, making the transition painful and awkward. He muffled as much of his misery as he could, not wanting her to hear it. To his relief, she placed her head on her knees, giving him the dignity of finishing without an audience.

She didn’t look up when he moved closer. Her terror rolled off her in waves, the acrid smell of her fear almost more than he could stand. He was already on the brink, more animal than human. If anything could set him off, it would be his female’s stress.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said softly and placed his hand on the back of her head. The tremor that greeted him made him want to rip something apart.

Like Elijah.

The motherfucker had gotten into Diskant’s home. Emory didn’t know how the bastard accomplished the feat. Entering a pack’s den was a stupid thing to do. Something people thinking on a logical level would never even consider. Knowing that Shepherds had come here, ready to take his mate, changed his perspective in so many ways. He’d promised Mary they’d move to their own home, but it might take awhile. Until this shit was settled, the pack would go under lockdown. Safety in numbers would become a rule, not a request.

The gasp that passed her lips when he inspected her shoulder made him grind his teeth. She’d been shot. His mate had been fucking shot. The bullet had passed cleanly through, leaving the tissue red and raw but non-threatening. With the bloodbond she’d heal a little faster, but it had to hurt.

Others are hurt too. Assess the situation. Find out what’s going on.

“Mary.” He tried to talk quietly, worried he might frighten her. “I need to check on Nathan.”

Her head flew up and she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding on tight. “Don’t leave. It’s not safe.”

“They’re gone.” Even though the sudden movement aggravated the bullet wounds in his chest, he didn’t allow it to show. Soon—he hoped—Doc would be back and would remove the slugs. He wanted to growl, his wolf demanding his enemies pay with their lives. “I saw them leaving when I came downstairs.”

“You did?” When she pulled away her eyes were wide. “You’re sure?”

Fucking-A, he was sure. If it wasn’t for his deep-seated need to find Mary he would have taken them down one by one, saving her uncle for last.

Taking a deep breath, he answered, “Yes, I’m sure. The only reason I didn’t follow them is you’re more important. I had to see you first.”

It was as if a switch were flipped, taking her from terrified to concerned. Mary ran her hands over his chest, inspecting his wounds, her fingers shaking. “What about you? How are you here? I saw him shoot you. I know I did.”

“I’m fine. I’ll heal.” He grasped her wrists, stilling the motions of her hands. “But Nathan might not.”

The door swung open and he jumped to his feet, ready to rumble, only to see Nathan’s scowling face. Despite a thin slice at his temple and a large patch of blood that bloomed over his shoulder, the Beta was no worse for the wear.

“Don’t worry about me.” Nathan moved his head from side to side, cracking his neck and wincing. He lifted his hand to his head, touching the area that had started to mend. “The bastards just nicked me. I’ve had worse.”

“Worse? There’s worse than this? What are you, shifters or supermen?” Mary asked with a strangled giggle. The sound sent chills along Emory’s spine, warning him she was close to losing what control she had left. She’d endured so much only to face this. No wonder she was finally cracking under the pressure.

The red cloud hanging over him only worsened. Until he knew what was taking place outside, he couldn’t secure a location for Mary and spend the time necessary to rebuild the trust her family had just fucking destroyed.

“Oh shit. Oscar,” Nathan said sadly and kneeled in the doorway. “Damn, this is going to break Diskant’s heart.”

Or piss him off more than he already is.

Emory reached for Mary. There was nothing he could do about Diskant’s now-deceased pet. The poor pooch was gone. He knew it the minute he saw the gaping hole in the dog’s chest. A shifter could survive a severe injury—even from a gun at point-blank range—but a normal animal couldn’t. They healed too slowly, would bleed out in seconds.

“He saved me,” she said softly, her voice heavy with new tears. “Oscar stopped Elijah.”

“Then there aren’t enough steaks and bones waiting for him where he’s going,” he murmured, his heart slamming inside his chest. She’d come so close to being hurt. He’d almost failed to protect her.

Diskant’s incensed roar carried through the house and Emory closed his eyes, fighting his wolf and its response to the Alpha’s battle cry. He’d heard the fighting outside, known the pack had returned when he rushed downstairs to find Mary. There would be blood—so much carnage—and retribution after tonight’s events. Now that they had reassembled, it would become official.

“Let me see him.” Diskant sounded as devastated as Emory expected him to be. The Omega’d had the dog for several years, having rescued him when he was a pup. “Good man,” Diskant whispered, voice shaking. “I’m sorry, boy.”

Ignoring the pain from his injuries, Emory lifted Mary and cradled her against his chest. Instead of facing the pack, she turned her head away and closed her eyes. He walked around the desk. The pack filled in the space behind Nathan. Emory searched for his brother’s face, hoping he would see it, somehow knowing he wouldn’t.

“Where’s Trey?”

“He wasn’t with Ava.” Diskant appeared, carrying Ava in his arms. Emory wasn’t sure if the male was shaking from rage or grief. “His scent wasn’t in the building either. They took him to another location. I knew something was off the minute we found her. Sons of bitches wanted to divert our attention.”

“We have to find him.”

The pack growled their agreement, as ready for a fight as Emory. The longer Shepherds had Trey, the less likely the pack was to get him back alive. Considering what had just happened, the hourglass had been turned. The sands were slowly dwindling to nothing.

Diskant snarled and turned. “Kinsley, you’re going to have to call in the prides.”

Kinsley shouldered past the shifters in his path. The Alpha’s anger was palpable, goading the shifters in the proximity, electrifying the air. “Where do you want them?”

“I want at least one of them here so that we can search for Trey,” Diskant said, lowering his head and gazing at Ava. “We’re going to have to put the city on a strict watch until I decide what to do. Tell everyone it’s best to relocate to their primary safe housing. They’ll need to establish a guard rotation. The entire area is on lockdown.”

“Understood.” Kinsley peered over at Mary and his lips thinned. With a stiff motion, he opened his phone and marched off.

“All of you were hurt.” Diskant didn’t ask a question, he made a statement of fact. “What’s the damage?”

“Nothing that won’t heal.” Emory glanced down at his mate, irritated that she’d been harmed and he hadn’t been able to prevent it. “Doc needs to take a look at her shoulder.” Lifting his head, he hiked his chin in Nathan’s direction. “We also need him to remove a few silver slugs out of our asses.”

“Mine went clear through. We got lucky.” Nathan gently rubbed his temple. “If they weren’t such lousy shots we’d all be dead.”

“They were in a hurry and they got sloppy.” Emory growled, feeling the deep burn in his chest remind him of what a shit shot Elijah had been. If Emory hadn’t moved when instinct took over, taking a swift plunge to the right, the bullets would have killed him. Just a couple of inches and the Shepherd would have nailed him in the heart.

“I’m not surprised.” Diskant looked at Mary then at Emory. “Ava was the perfect decoy since they wanted a chance to get in the house. They had an open window to make it in and out alive.”

“What do they want with Trey?” Emory’s snarl caused Mary to whimper. He lowered his voice and rubbed his chin on top of her head. “Was he just at the wrong place at the wrong time? Or is there something we don’t know?”

“Could be he’s a shifter they’ll keep for leverage,” Nathan mused, shaking his head. “We can’t assume they know who he is. As far as they are aware he could have been one of the pack killed in the blast a few months back.”

Doc moved from the pack toward Emory. “Discuss this while I tend to your female. That bullet could have done some damage that we’re not aware of. I won’t know until I examine her.”

“Take her to the guest bedroom in the basement and get her comfortable,” Diskant said, shifting Ava in his arms when she moaned. “I’m going to secure all the rooms upstairs but I don’t want them occupied until we have guards placed at all the fire escapes. When the prides arrive we can start trying to track down Trey.”

Two sides of Emory warred. One part of him wanted to find his brother, the other demanded he tend to and care for his mate. Shit, this was harder than he thought. With Mary in his life nothing was black and white anymore. Everything existed in shades of gray.

“Lead the way,” he instructed as he walked from the office.

Doc pivoted and started the trek to the basement, creating a path in the process. Emory followed, feeling as though he were trapped in quicksand and sinking deeper and deeper with each passing minute. He wanted to accept he couldn’t help his brother and matters were out of his hands but he couldn’t. Trey was alive, and as long as he knew that he wouldn’t stop searching for him.

As a brother, he couldn’t.

When Doc entered the guest bedroom situated at the far end of the entertainment area, Emory quickly strode to the bed, pushing his personal demons aside. Mary groaned. Her pain was evident when he lowered her to the mattress, her T-shirt soaked with blood. Emory was horrified, experiencing a profound and gut-wrenching shame.

How could he be thinking of anything but Mary when she was injured? What kind of mated male did that make him?

“Emory.” Mary reached for his hand, her eyes full of pain.

“Right here.” He took her hand in his and kneeled beside the bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he wasn’t going anywhere. Trey was a part of the pack—had once been the fucking Alpha of the whole shebang—and they’d do anything to find him and bring him back safely. He had to trust them to find his brother, leaving Trey’s fate in their capable hands. Mary was too important. Life meant nothing without her.

She squeezed his hand when Doc informed them he’d have to cut away the shirt and left the room to retrieve his bag. The low discussion of the pack outside reassured him. Diskant had placed Ava on the couch, where she was slowly coming to awareness. Diskant refused to leave her side, but he was already issuing orders with the pack, telling them what areas to visit and search. Hopefully the Shepherds would scatter, afraid to remain where they were after the upheaval they’d caused. If so, they might slip up or leave Trey behind.

Fuck, he wanted to believe that. Shepherds gone. The city safe for his mate. His brother back and in fighting form.

“I need to tell you something.”

Emory moved closer to Mary, resting his waist on the edge of the bed. “I’m listening.”

She started to talk and stopped. “I told them about the map,” she finally said, her eyes darting away from his, as if she was afraid he’d take the news badly. “I didn’t want to, but I thought it might buy time.”

Shit. “That’s why you were in the office?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It’s going to be all right.” It was an automatic response, a way to settle his mate, but he wasn’t sure if he was telling her the truth. “I said I wasn’t leaving and I meant it. I just need to step outside before Doc gets back and talk to the pack.”

She still wouldn’t meet his gaze, staring across the room. “I understand.”

“Mary.” He let go of her hand, caught her chin between his fingers and forced her to look at him. Huge mistake. Her eyes were red-rimmed and full of fresh tears. “You did the right thing,” he said, wanting to say something to ease her fears despite his inability to. “If you didn’t stall, I might not have made it to you in time.”

Whether she believed him or not was open to debate. She didn’t resist when he pulled away, but he did feel the weight of her stare as he stood and walked toward the door. Talk about mucking up the plan. If Elijah knew about the map, Shepherds would be on the move the moment he shared the information he’d uncovered. The packs Nathan contacted had to know the clock was ticking, otherwise their advantage wouldn’t mean squat.

Calm down, they’ll make time. This is important.

At least, that was the hope.