Frostbitten

BAIT

THE MUTTS HAD indeed left us a clear trail. And I didn't much like where it led. Our hotel window overlooked the northwest corner of the city, and while I'd marveled at the distant view-that thrilling triumvirate of mountain, forest and sea-the closer landscape had been less in spiring.

A couple of blocks past the hotel, the city seemed to end in a wasteland of scarred and scrubby fields crossed with train tracks and dotted with industrial buildings. A flat, open basin ran from the train station to the ocean, and this was where the mutts had gone.

When the sidewalk ended, we entered no-man's-land. The bitter wind lashed us and froze our ears until all we could hear was its howl. A faint icy drizzle rained down. The ground underfoot was slick and muddy on the surface, still frozen underneath.

"They're going to see us coming a mile away," I said.

"That's likely the idea."

"We need a plan."

"Yep, we do."

"And that's my department now, isn't it?"

He glanced over, face softening for the first time since he'd walked into our hotel room. "Yep, it is."

"Damn."

CLAY DIDN'T LIKE my plan. When I invited him to suggest an alternative, though, he just grumbled that I was the boss. In other words, the plan was fine. He just didn't like it.

West of the train station, we put on a performance for our hidden audience. Clay gestured for me to go wait inside the station. I argued that I wanted to stay with him. We bickered. He picked me up, set me down facing the station and gave me a slap on the ass, along with firm commands, including go, sit and stay. Being an obedient mate, I obeyed.

As Clay loped off to take care of those nasty mutts for me, I circled to the front of the station and took a seat on a raised monument displaying-according to the plaque-the first train engine used by Alaska Railroad. There I was, out in the open, where Clay couldn't see me-a perfect lure for the mutt. Clay would follow the trail for a while, then pretend to lose it. With him out of sight, at least one of the watching mutts was sure to break cover and come after me.

Clay hated the part about using me as bait. I had to admit that even I couldn't help thinking Gawd, not this old trick again. But it worked, again and again.

Give mutts the choice between attacking Clay and attacking Clay's mate, and they'll pick me every time. It's not only easier; it's going to hurt him more. Even if they can rise above that cowardly temptation, there's one temptation they can't fight-the siren's allure of my incredible hotness. Okay, the siren's allure of my incredibly hot bitch-in-heat scent.

I'd been sitting there only about five minutes when a man walked around the train station and headed toward me. I inhaled, but the wind was going the wrong way. He fit Reese's description, though-early thirties, big and brawny, short brown hair and a square face.

My first thought was, Oh, shit, Clay's supposed to grab him before he gets to me. My second thought was, No problem, I can take him. My third, as he got closer, was, urn, probably… And my forth, when he was near enough to smell, circled back to that initial Oh, shit. He was human.

Apparently, my incredible hotness proved alluring to more than just werewolves these days. Or Alaska had a shortage of single women.

"Hey there," he said. "You look cold sitting up there, all alone."

I smiled-civil, nothing more. "I'm waiting for someone."

"Come inside and wait. I'll buy you a coffee."

Espresso, I was sure. "Thanks, but my husband will be here in a minute."

His gaze dropped to my hand, covered in a glove. Then he studied me. Whatever look a married woman is supposed to have, apparently I lacked it, because he stepped closer.

"How about lunch? There's a great diner just up the hill. Nice and warm."

"I'm fine. Really. Where I come from, this is a pleasant spring day."

"And where's that?"

Damn, I'd walked right into that conversation-prolonger.

" Canada. Anyway, I'll just wait-Oh, hold on. My phone's vibrating."

I answered, talking to silence. "Sure, and where's that?" Pause. Laugh. "Okay, then." Pause. "Yep, I'll be right there."

As I hung up, I slid off the wall. "That was my husband. He needs me to check out something he wants to buy." I rolled my eyes. "Men."

"Where is he?" the man asked.

"Over there," I waved at a collection of buildings, a and hoped one of them was a store. Then I started out.

"Why don't I give you a lift?"

"I'm fine."

"It's a long walk."

Clay's piercing whistle cut through the howling wind. That was his signal that the mutts had taken the bait and that he needed his backup in place.

"Sorry, I really have to-" I tried stepping around the man, but he blocked me.

"I'll give you a lift."

"Thanks, but I'm fine."

Another sidestep, another block, this one moving into my personal space, making the hair on my neck bristle. I shifted back.

"I'm fine," I said, my tone taking on an edge.

"No need to get snippy. I'm just being friendly."

"And I'm just saying 'thanks, but no thanks.' "

Clay double-whistled. The BOLO signal-be on the lookout… because these mutts have split up and one could be heading your way.

"I'm sorry," I said.

He smiled. "No need to apologize. We all get a little cranky now and then."

"No, I meant for this." I kicked his kneecap. As he twisted and crumpled, I slammed my foot into the back of his knee and he crashed to the ground, cursing me as I took off.

Clay whistled again. A locator beacon this time. He seemed to be behind the cluster of buildings I'd pointed out a moment ago. There were several routes there. I picked the one across open ground where I could keep an eye out for mutts.

The wind had whipped up again, buffeting me as I ran, making me slide in the mud, barely able to stay upright. The whine of the wind filled my ears. The stink of rotted fish filled my nose. I kept running, eyes slitted against the gale.

At a roar behind me, I spun to see a truck barreling across the open field. My eyes teared up from the wind and I couldn't see the driver-just that the truck was heading straight for me. I ran full out. It kept gaining. At the last second, I leaped aside and the truck skidded past, brakes squealing veering as it spun into a sharp turn. It came at me again, tires spewing a hail of mud and rock. I dove away and it raced past like a charging bull.

When I glanced back, I could see a man in the driver's seat, but mud now dappled the windows. It roared at me again. As I darted out of the way, the window went down. Inside was the man from the train station.

"Did you think that was funny, you crazy bitch?" he shouted.

Crazy? I wasn't the one using my 4x4 as a weapon. I marched toward his side of the truck. He jerked back, this clearly not being the "fleeing in mortal terror" reaction he'd hoped for.

He rolled up the window and hit the gas. The tires spun, spitting mud. The truck rocked, but didn't budge.

I took a running leap. The truck shook as I landed in the bed. The man kept pumping the gas pedal, now jerking the wheel side to side, hoping to dislodge me, but the truck only spun in place.

I walked to the front corner nearest the passenger door. Then I leaned down, grabbed the door handle and wrenched, twisting it all the way around, the insides grinding and snapping. He lunged over to hold the door closed, but I'd already let go.

He slammed the truck into reverse. I stumbled, hands slapping the cab. I kept my balance, though, and when the tires started spinning again, I moved to the driver's side. He slapped down the lock. Again I leaned down. Again I wrenched the handle around, then retreated into the bed.

He tried to open the door.

"Hey… " he said, jangling it. Then "Fuck!"

I watched through the back window as he reached across and tried the passenger door, yanking and jiggling the handle until he realized I'd jammed them shut.

"What the fuck?" He twisted to glower at me.

I smiled, finger-waved and was turning to go when something slammed into my back, sending me flying against the cab. As I scram-bled up from the truck bed, my nostrils filled with the smell of my attacker-one of the mutts from the hotel.

He stood in the middle of the truck bed. With sandy brown hair to his collar and dark eyes, he was a huge rectangle of a man and had the thick neck of one who hasn't been content to spend a mere hour at the gym each day. The slight yellow cast of his skin and the nasty glitter in his eyes suggested he hadn't been content with the extra boost of werewolf strength either. A steroid-pumped monster of a mutt. Travis Tesler, who'd cut off Reese's fingers-I didn't blame Reese for running. First chance I got, I was doing the same.

"Did I spoil your fun?" he asked, lips curving in what I supposed passed for a smile. "I thought Pack wolves didn't hunt humans."

I kept my expression wary, eyes not quite meeting his, shoulders lowered, feigning every sign of submissiveness.

"You got him pretty good." He snickered as he watched the man still vainly pumping on the door handles. "Bet you think you're clever."

I cast an anxious glance at the open land beside me.

"Your man's long gone," Tesler said. "It's just you and me."

He stepped closer. I feigned a flinch and drew back.

He took a deep breath. "Damn, you smell even better in person."

Behind us, the man banged on the rear window. We both ignored him. I inched along the cab toward the edge. Tesler stepped toward me again. I scuttled back.

"Not nearly as tough against your own kind, are you?" he said.

"I-I don't want any trouble."

"Well, see, that's not going to work, because I do."

I shook my head, my gaze fixed on the lower half of his face, so he couldn't see my eyes. "Please. Whatever you want, I'll do it. Just don't-"

He lunged and rammed me back against the cab. Pinning me there, he lowered his nose to my neck and inhaled.

"Fuck, that is something else."

"Pl-please don't-" I stammered, then I slammed my fist into his gut.

He stumbled back, doubled over. An uppercut to the jaw sent him sailing backward. A roundhouse kick toppled him over the side, and he hit the ground flat on his back, his gasp and curse swallowed by the gusting wind.

I jumped onto the edge of the bed, balancing on the back corner, waiting for him to get up so I could kick him back down, then make a run for it. Only he just lay there, looking up at me. Then he smiled.

"Now that's more like it. Damn, that's more like it."

He licked blood from his lips. His smile widened and blood gushed, streaming down his cheek. His smile changed, all amusement vanishing, replaced by something ugly that hit me in the pit of the stomach, prodding awake everything that horrible letter had un-buried. The terrified little girl inside screamed for me to run, just run. Only I couldn't. I didn't run anymore, not from men like this.

He got up, slow, as if testing his muscles. I tensed and watched his thighs, waiting as they bunched and then-

He leapt up and grabbed for my ankles, but I was already in flight. I swung behind him and got in two lightning-fast hits before he turned and came at me, still moving slow as I danced back.

"You like this?" He licked the blood again. "Get the old adrenaline pumping. Land a few shots. Make a guy bleed." He smiled that ugly smile. "I bet you've made a lot of guys bleed for you."

He swung. I ducked, but he followed with a pile driver to the side of my jaw, holding none of that steroid-pumped superhuman strength back. The earth rushed up to meet me. I lay on the frozen ground, blinking hard, struggling to remain focused, knowing if I didn't…

Stay conscious. Stay conscious.

Tesler loomed over me. "If you hit me, honey, I'm going to hit back. I hit a lot harder, don't I?"

Stay conscious. Stay-

"Down for the count? I was hoping for a few more rounds." He grinned. "But I guess this will do."

As he reached for his belt buckle, any urge to drift off evaporated. Then the man in the truck hit the horn.

"Ah, fuck."

Tesler glanced over. The man blasted the horn again. I closed my eyes to slits. When Tesler looked back at me again, he frowned and prodded my leg, checking whether I'd passed out. The man banged on the window, his shouts muffled by the wind. The mutt cursed, gaze swinging between me and the truck. Then his belt whirred as he pulled it through the buckle. I tensed, ready to leap up, hit him with everything I had. Fight, bite, scream, kick…

The horn blared.

"Guess you'll keep a moment," he muttered. "Maybe you'll even wake up." A short laugh. "I'd like it a lot better if you woke up."

Belt undone, he strode to the driver's window and rapped. It squeaked as the man lowered it a few inches.

"I'm not going to let you do that." The man waved a cell phone. "I'm calling 911."

If he really intended to, he would have. He didn't want to get involved, but his conscience said he couldn't stand by and watch a woman get raped, so he had to at least make the threat and hope that was enough.

"Did you see what that bitch did to me?" Tesler pointed to his bloodied face. "And what she did to your truck? That's going to cost you. And for what? Because you were having a bit of fun with her?"

"Yes, but-"

"Tell you what… "

He leaned in, lowering his voice. I stayed where I was. He might have his back to me, but he was still paying attention, testing me, seeing whether I'd leap up and run when I had the chance. While everything in me screamed for me to do just that, I held myself still and waited.

"I could use some help," Tesler said. "She's a real firecracker. If she wakes up, I'm in trouble. So how about you help me." He chuckled. "There's enough to go around, if you don't mind seconds."

I waited for the man's cry of outrage. He only hesitated, then looked over at me.

"She'll be unconscious?" he said.

Tesler laughed. "Not if I have my way, but sure, I'll knock her out again if that's what you like."

I felt the man's gaze travel over me. My skin heated, red-hot fury burning through the old terror.

You coward. You goddamn, fucking, low-life coward.

I wanted to fly at both of them. Show them what they were dealing with. Show them I wasn't weak, wasn't a victim. Images flickered across my half-closed lids. That letter. That damned letter. The face of the man who sent it. The faces of other foster families, the men and boys I was supposed to call father and brother. Cowards every one. Preying on the helpless. Only I wasn't helpless anymore. I was-

I shoved the rage back, gritted my teeth and stayed where I was. Just another minute. Another few seconds…

"Let's get you out of there," Tesler said.

I listened as he yanked on the door and waited for the moment when he got it open, when the flurry of activity would distract-

"Shit. That bitch really did do a number on your doors. Put down the window and let me get it from the inside."

"I already tried."

"Just put down the fucking window before she comes to and runs away."

The window whirred. I tensed, ready to spring…

Tesler grabbed the man's shirtfront.

"Wha-?"

Tesler slammed his palm into the man's face, his nose flattening with a sickening crunch, head snapping back, neck breaking. The man went limp. Tesler checked his pulse.

"Did you really think I was going to share with a human?" he said as he threw him to the floor of the cab. "Now that's taken care of, time for the fun part." He turned. "What the-? Where-?"

A growl of rage sounded behind me as I raced across the open field.