When she slumped to her side, eyes closed, body limp with unconsciousness, Conall bent toward her. Lifting Thea into his arms, he refused to think of how fragile and feminine and helpless she felt. Instead, he focused on getting her back to the car. People stared at him in suspicion as he strode through Old Town with an unconscious woman in his arms. A few people even stopped to ask what he was doing, some of them tourists. Others were natives asking in broken English. He explained his girlfriend had passed out and he was returning her to the hotel for care.
One man tried to stop him from continuing on.
Conall growled, the wolf rising. The human sensed it and backed off in confused horror.
The minutes-walk seemed to last forever, but finally Conall reached the hotel where he’d parked the rental car. For a second, he tightened his hold on the feminine, powerless form in his arms, ready to gently settle her into the back seat. Then he remembered the photographs of her victims and he practically threw her in with a snarl.
His prey was caught.
It was time to get the hell back to Scotland, hand the murdering little wench over, retrieve his cure, and except for rejoicing in his sister’s recovery, forget the whole bloody thing had ever occurred.The first thing Thea became cognizant of was the whooshing sound she’d soon realize was the noise of the road passing beneath her. Then the smell of leather. The feel of leather beneath her cheek. Followed closely by a slight rocking motion.
Instinct held her frozen, and she automatically cloaked her body in silence. Just until she got her bearings. Eyes still closed, she let awareness move through her, and with it came the memories.
The wolf.
She tensed and then forced herself to relax. Using her preternatural senses, she pushed beyond herself and the scent of earth and something darker, spicier, filled her nose. The wolf was here, driving her somewhere.
And Ashforth had sent him.
Rage and terror fought for supremacy and she was thankful for her cloaking gift that kept her shuddering from being detectable to the wolf. The bastard had injected her with Ashforth’s concoction, one of the few things on this planet that caused her agonizing pain.
If she thought she could get past Ashforth’s hired muscle and no doubt a supply of the drug, Thea would be tempted to stick around to teach the wolf a lesson about manners. Unfortunately, or fortunately, she was all about survival and escaping the wolf was her priority. Thea didn’t know how long she’d been knocked out or where the werewolf was taking her. Needing some idea of her surroundings, she risked opening one eye.
She was lying in the back of a small car with old black leather seats. The car smelled damp. Why did everywhere she went smell old and damp? For once she’d love to wake up somewhere literally smelling of roses. Or anywhere that didn’t smell like one huge, wet, dirty sponge.
Viewing the masculine profile in the front seat, Thea opened both eyes. Like the US, Poland drove on the right side of the road, and the werewolf was sitting in the driver’s seat on her left. He was mammoth in the small car, his dark hair brushing the top of the roof.
She couldn’t see his scar from this angle and yet he still looked formidable. It was the hard line of his jaw and the knifelike hilt of his cheekbones. She couldn’t see anything beyond his profile and the intimidating breadth of his shoulders because her own head pressed up against the right back passenger door.
The window framed gray skies, but that was all Thea could see from her position. She could sit up without making a noise; however, he’d see her out of his peripheral without the aid of hearing her move.
The car was so small it forced her knees to bend, her feet touching the door. If she hadn’t been dosed, Thea could’ve blasted the door off with one almighty shove. But she could still feel the drug. It was like a poison her healing abilities fought to overcome, slower than they combatted most things, but still, she’d win. Eventually.
For now, she was weak and unable to free herself from the car.
Thea would have to wait for the wolf to stop. She needed an opportunity where he turned his back, just long enough for her to run. Yes, she could run, escape. She was just in no shape to fight.
A shrill ringing made Thea jump. She slammed her eyes closed and forced her body to relax.
“Aye?” the deep timbre of the wolf’s voice caused her heart to race.
“I got your message.”
Ice slithered through Thea’s veins as Ashforth’s voice filled the car. For one frantic second, she thought he was here, in the passenger seat, until she fought through the panic. The phone was connected to the car. Ashforth was on speaker.