Kym Grosso: Logan's Acadian Wolves

“Yes,” she gasped.

Logan’s eyes met Dimitri’s in an effort to silently communicate that he was about to bow out, when he realized something was happening outside the bar. He wasn’t sure if it was the smell of her blood or the flash of her long blonde hair that first caught his attention. A bloodied woman tore down the street, vampires following her in pursuit. The woman from his vision. What the fuck?

“What is it?” Dimitri tensed, snapping his head around to the street.

“Sorry, Fi. Gonna have to do this another time.” Logan kissed her forehead and took off toward the exit. “D. Outside. Now. Something’s going down.”

Wynter’s lungs burned. She bent over trying to catch her breath as she hid behind the rotted wooden door. Her heart beat like a hummingbird as she considered her next move. It had been exactly two months and thirteen days, since she’d been taken hostage. Escaping had been no small feat. With nothing but time, she’d planned for days and had finally done it. Wearing only a dirty white lab coat over her bra and panties, she sprinted down the street. Disoriented, she was uncertain where they’d moved the operation. A quick glance up to the wrought iron balconies lined with cascading ferns told her she was in New Orleans. She shook her head in disbelief. Fucking assholes . Wynter had lost track of how many times they relocated her. When she’d first started working for them, she’d been in New York City. But after they’d discovered her intentions, she’d been treated like cargo; blindfolded, handcuffed and gagged as they traveled from state to state.

Endless days in the lab led into nightly bleedings by the vampires. They soon learned, however, that their virologist couldn’t think straight if her brain lacked blood. But even after they stopped draining her, their threat remained clear and present. Screw up or argue too much, and they’d drag her to the floor, sinking their fangs into her flesh as punishment. As much as she’d kept her nose buried in the work, managing to mentally catalog their protocols, she’d lost chunks of time. She’d nearly given up hope of living, fearing no one would come for her.

Desperate, her plan had been flimsy at best but she’d rather die trying to escape than be imprisoned. Staking the vampire had been the easy part. Finding her way through the locked corridors had been quite another story. But she’d done it. She was nothing if not resourceful. As the fresh air hit her face, her heart raced, knowing they’d be hot on her heels. She stole a glance over her shoulder; the dark figure was quickly approaching. Her breath quickened in fright as she thought through what she’d do next. If she could disappear through one of the myriad courtyard entranceways along the street, she might have a chance. She could open a gate and lock it behind her, she thought. Or perhaps if she ran further, she could find safety within a shop or bar that catered to humans.

Heaving for breath, she wrapped her bloody fingers around the iron bars that led down a dark alley and shook them. Locked? No, she just needed to open the rusted latch. She fumbled with it as she heard the footsteps growing closer. Her eyes darted down the street and she caught a glimpse of an approaching vampire. Swiftly, she turned her attention back to the door. She grunted, pushing at the bar with her thumb. Open, dammit, open. Finally, the latch slid aside. It was at that very second she realized she’d run out of time. A bloodcurdling scream tore from her lips as familiar claws dug into her neck, spinning her around.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The vampire sneered, holding her by the throat against the wall.

She choked for air, but didn’t waste time answering him. In one hand, she held onto the stake and with the other, she continued to flick open the latch.

“I’ve got her,” he called over to the second thug whose fangs openly wept with saliva.

Wynter’s eyes teared. This couldn’t be the end. Even though she started to feel the tunnel of unconsciousness closing in, she kicked and gasped in defiance. Never give up. They could take her but not without a fight.

“No,” she croaked softly. He slammed her wrist against the plastered wall. The stake she’d been carrying slipped from her fingers.

Logan sprinted out of the club after the two vampires just in time to see the larger one holding the human against the wall by her neck. Why the hell are vampires attacking a human? In the wide open where anyone could see? Where the hell is Kade? Kade Issacson, the head of the vampires in New Orleans, would kill these idiots for merely chasing after a human, let alone harming one. With no time to call him, Logan came up behind the vampire, reached around his neck and snapped his spine. He took in the sight of the wide-eyed girl, dressed in a lab coat, who coughed for air. Protectively, he pulled her into his arms, while glancing over to Dimitri, who’d slit open the throat of the other vamp.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Logan assured her.

Wynter began to struggle, kicking and beating the stranger with her fists. Lost in panic, she didn’t hear his words. Fear surged as she immediately sensed he was wolf. Trust no one.

“No, let me go! Please don’t hurt me…I can’t…” she began. She didn’t feel good, her mind and body were beginning to shut down. If she lost consciousness, they’d take her again.

“Easy, sweetheart. Now listen,” Logan said softly, refusing to release her. “I’m not goin’ to hurt you.” What the hell was it with humans? Didn’t she get he was helping her?

Now that Logan had the woman from his vision in his arms, he wasn’t going to let her simply walk away. He couldn’t believe that she was actually here in New Orleans. Curiosity got the best of him as he let his eyes wander over her. She wore a dirty white coat that was missing buttons. Shoeless, her bare feet were blackened and bloodied. What had happened to her? Logan could feel the heat rising from her skin. She felt warm, too warm for a human. Notwithstanding her panicked state, she appeared physically ill.

“Please, just let me go. I swear I won’t tell anyone. Please,” she cried, fighting back the sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.

Wynter looked up at the attractive wolf who offered her help. Over six-four, with shoulder length dark brown hair, he towered over her small stature. Dressed in worn jeans and a black t-shirt, his well-defined biceps gave her an idea of the incredible body that was under his clothes. A distinctive power rolled off of him as he gently ran a finger down her cheek. Alpha.

She thought she’d hyperventilate at the thought. Oh my God, she needed to get away from him. She couldn’t be certain if he was an enemy of hers or not. And if he was, she knew he’d kill her. Wynter knew that packs had rules. And some packs killed intruders and asked questions later. Seeing no other way to escape, perhaps she could convince him she was simply a wayward tourist being chased by vampires.

“I’m a tourist,” she stammered. “I just got lost. If you let me go, I’ll just get back to the hotel.”

A tourist? Is she crazy? Logan could smell her lie and her fear. Perhaps she’s not crazy but frightened out of her right mind, he thought.

“Okay, well, let’s try this again, because I don’t see many tourists on the run from vamps, dressed like you are. Seriously, you’re safe with me. You need to calm down, though,” he suggested, with a low, reassuring voice. “Things will be fine. We’ll get you cleaned up and then we’re going to have a little chat.”

He didn’t want to stress her further but if she thought she was going to up and leave without telling him what was going on, she had another think coming. He glanced over to the ashes of the two vampires they’d killed. He was going to have to have a serious conversation with Kade.