N. Walters - Quinn's Quest

“We’ve got to search the South Side.” Isaiah rummaged behind the bar and pulled out a map of the city. He spread it out on a table and they all gathered around.

“That’s a big area to cover,” Michael pointed out.

“We’ll have to split up.” Benjamin stood next to his brother and studied the area.

Quinn could sense the exhaustion tugging at Bethany, as well as her unease at being around the others. She kept casting nervous glances at the other males, who were continuing to stare at her, even if not quite so blatantly as before.

It would take her time to get used to them, to him. But she would. He’d make sure of it. He eased her closer and placed his hand on the back of her skull, urging her to lean on him.

She resisted, but he persisted until she at last gave a sigh and let her cheek rest against his chest. Satisfied, he gave his full attention to the map. Isaiah was already tracing the area that was the most likely. “We need to search the entire area. We can’t afford to miss even one building.”

Hank nodded, his gaze intent on the map. “If we break it down into grids it will make it easier to split into groups.”

Quinn agreed. “With all of us looking, we should be able to sniff them out, if nothing else.” The other males quickly concurred.

“I think if I see the area I’ll be able to find something familiar.” Bethany lifted her head and pushed away from Quinn and rubbed a hand over her face. There were dark circles under her eyes but nothing but determination reflected in them. “We need to get moving.”

“You’re not going.” The order was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He slammed his jaws shut before he said anything else stupid. What the hell was wrong with him? He needed her to go with them, should be thrilled she was volunteering to do so. That way he didn’t have to try to convince her. The urge to tuck her safely into bed so she could rest was pulling at him. He fought it. Plenty of time for Bethany to rest and recover her strength once Chris was found.

She frowned at him. Next to him, Michael groaned while Isaiah chuckled.

“Yes, I am.” She turned to Meredith, ignoring the males. “Do you have a bathroom I can use before we go?”

Meredith nodded, shooting him a questioning gaze before turning her attention back to Bethany. “Of course. It’s right this way.” Meredith led Bethany to the ladies’ room on the far end of the bar. Neema took one look at the males and followed the women. All the males watched them walk away.

“She’s not going.” It was totally irrational. Quinn should be the one dragging her out the door to look. After all, it was his sister that they were searching for—the one he’d spent the last year and a half of his life looking for.

“Yes, she is.” Isaiah held up his hand to stop Quinn before he started on a tirade. “We’ll all protect her.” He pinned the other males with a stern glare. “You know she has to go.”

Quinn dragged his fingers through his hair. He wanted to slam his fist against the nearest wall even though he knew Isaiah was right. “Yeah, I know.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Craig rested his hand on Quinn’s forearm, his expression one of worry.

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t true, but he didn’t want to get into it. Not in front of the others. Not that he was going to be given much choice in the matter, judging by the looks on their faces.

Isaiah chuckled. “You know well and good what’s wrong.” He looked at all the unattached males. Michael, Benjamin, Hank and Kevin were all watching the bathroom door Bethany had disappeared behind. Teague was the only other male with a smile on his face. The bastard had Neema, so he was immune to Bethany.

“It’s instinct,” Isaiah informed Craig. “You’ve read about it but you don’t truly understand it. They all sense Bethany is close to going into heat, ready to make the change for the first time in her life. It’s the most potent time in a female werewolf’s life. They all want to bed her and mate with her.”

“Shit.” Craig took in the tension pervading the room and slowly shook his head. “This isn’t good.”

“It’s fine.” Quinn glared at the other males. “Because no one is going to bother Bethany.”

“Speak for yourself.” Michael stepped forward, his gaze flitting to Quinn before tracking to the back of the bar where the women had gone. “She’s a beautiful woman. Brave too.”

Quinn saw red. Literally. He didn’t think, he simply reacted and lunged at Michael, wanting to tear his head off and stomp it into the ground. Isaiah and Hank had anticipated such a move and managed to grab him in time. Barely.

Benjamin and Teague held Michael back.

“Enough.” Isaiah’s low command broke through Quinn’s anger. Shame filled him. He had to get a grip on himself.

He yanked at his arms and Isaiah and Hank let him go. Quinn was shaken by his violent reaction toward the other male. He didn’t know Michael that well, but he liked him well enough. Had never thought of attacking him before he’d mentioned his interest in Bethany.

Damn, this was confusing as hell. He didn’t have time to deal with this crazy attraction, with this overwhelming sense of—and he hated to admit it—jealousy. All his attention had to be focused on finding his sister. Nothing else mattered. It couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow it to.

He turned from the group, walked to the large window at the front of the bar and stared out at the city as it started to come to life for another day.

Bethany barely held it together on the way to the ladies’ room. The moment she was inside, she leaned against the wall and sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. Her skin was itchy and hot. She wanted to scratch it. She wanted to tear her clothing off and roll around on cool sheets. Preferably with a strong, virile male. Quinn’s visage popped into her head, leaving her breathless.

Her breasts swelled, her nipples incredibly sensitive as they pressed against the thin cups of her bra. The ache between her legs throbbed nonstop, making her want to squeeze them together to try to ease it. But she knew that wouldn’t work. She’d already tried.

“Just breathe.”

Bethany heard water running in the background and then a cool, wet paper towel was pressed against her forehead. It felt so good against her flushed skin. She lifted her head, wanting more. The older woman was watching her, her blue eyes filled with concern.

“I don’t know if you caught all our names, but I’m Meredith Striker and this is Neema. She’s mated to Teague, the male with the earrings and tats.” She pointed to the younger woman who offered a shy smile.

As much as she appreciated Meredith’s kindness, Bethany didn’t have time for pleasantries. “What’s happening to me?” She needed to know. “Chrissten said I was close to being able to change into my wolf.” And didn’t that sound absolutely crazy. But she had to believe in something. If she wasn’t a werewolf than she obviously had some sort of crazy disease. This wasn’t normal.

“How much do you know about being a werewolf?” Meredith asked.

Bethany shrugged, desperately trying to ignore the way her nipples tightened into hard nubs. She pulled the edges of her fleece closed to cover them. “Nothing. Chrissten tried to tell me some things, but I thought she was nuts and didn’t pay a lot of attention.”

“You’ve always been stronger than other women. Your hearing is keen and your vision is exceptional.” Neema stepped forward. Bethany studied the slender young woman with her smooth café au lait skin, curly black hair and kind brown eyes.

“Yes. But that could simply be good genetics.” That didn’t prove anything to Bethany.