Laurann Dohner: Something Wicked This Way Comes, Volume 2

A scent rolled through the air. Wild, savage and strangely familiar.

Livvy’s spectacular hearing picked up the padding of footsteps and the occasional cough-like sound distinctive to her species.

She was no longer alone.

She knew some of her kind lived in this part of central Texas, but to date, she’d met none. Yet she could smell the scent of jaguars in the stagnant air, feel the heat of them even through the walls of her prison. The sounds of stealth continued. A raspy cough was answered by another.

Livvy went still. Tension radiated through her body and she caught her breath as her heartbeat accelerated. A sudden burst of energy zipped and zinged around her and the familiar sexual heat she’d experienced randomly over the past few weeks kicked into high gear.

Talk about bad timing.

The sizzle and pop in the atmosphere told her all she needed to know and before she could blink, she heard the sound of the door crashing inward. Hands touched her. Male hands that were hotter than those of humans.

Shifter.

“You’re okay now,” a deep voice murmured. “We’ve got you, honey. You’re safe.”

The blindfold was lifted from her head and Livvy squinted into the semi-darkness of what appeared to be some kind of old shed. Two pairs of mesmerizing dark eyes looked down at her, concern and anger stamped on their owners’ faces. Both men were naked and, even in the dim glow of the moon filtering through a single grimy window, the rugged beauty of each was impossible to miss. She might have been virtually blind moments ago but she sure as hell wasn’t now.

“I’m Daniel White Horse,” the largest of the two said. Native American features marked his stoic, wildly savage face. His brows, thick and black, were drawn with concern over his eyes and he scanned her body quickly, as if checking for injury. Then his gaze connected with hers again and the force of his presence wrapped around her like a balm. “This is my friend Nathan Ames. We’re private investigators and we’ve been assisting the police since you were taken.”

The other man, Nathan, leaned over her, bringing with him one of the distinctive scents she caught earlier. His saddle-brown mane was thick and wavy, hanging to his broad, broad shoulders. “Let’s get this tape off, hmm? Might hurt a little.” Carefully he peeled the duct tape from her mouth and, after tossing it aside, cupped her cheek with his palm. His eyes narrowed on her lips and his nostrils flared. “We know from your scent that you’re one of us, Olivia Russell. You have nothing to fear. We’ll protect you with our lives. How are you feeling? Are you hurt?”

She glanced from one savior to the other and drew her tongue over parchment-dry lips. Without warning, tremors set in and her teeth started to chatter. “Thank you. I’m good. Fine. He didn’t hurt me.”

“Good. That’s good,” Nathan said as Daniel scooped her up in his arms.

The huge Native American shifter glanced at her, his strong jaw working. “Let’s get you some air.”

“Air would be good,” she whispered. His arms tightened protectively, muscles bunching, and the heat of his flesh called to every primitive instinct she possessed. It was a hell of a time to notice such a thing but she was much too close to her time of change. Unavoidable. Nature had taken over and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Olivia trembled.

“Hang on. We’ll get you to the truck. Gotta cut these ropes.”

And just like that, Daniel began to run, the preternatural speed of their species kicking into high gear. She closed her eyes as the night air whipped her hair into a frenzy of motion.

Before she could blink, Daniel was placing her on a soft patch of ground near a big, black beast of a truck. Nathan quickly cut the restraints with two slashes from a wicked-looking blade. Olivia screamed when she brought her arms forward and pain raced through her abused limbs.

Neither man said a word, each just took an arm to rub as blood rushed back through veins that had lost circulation hours and hours ago. Silently they massaged her hands, wrists and arms, until the pain subsided and she lay in limp relief on the ground. Someone, she was unsure who, pressed a bottle of water to her parched lips.

This time it was Nathan who lifted her, placing her in the front seat of the truck. She let her head loll back and watched in quiet awe as they pulled on jeans, boots and tee shirts. She might be stressed to the max and exhausted but she wasn’t dead. Sexual hunger rolled through her body as she took in the sculpted lines of each massive shifter. The scent of them hit her senses in a blast of epic proportions and her nipples instantly tightened beneath the satin cups of her bra.

On the cusp of changing, her time rushing toward her like a runaway train, Livvy felt her clit swelling to press against the seam of her jeans. She was going into heat and the early signs she’d experienced were nothing compared with these new sensations, the overload of lust sweeping through her. She knew there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it so she gritted her teeth and slammed her eyes shut. Nature had chosen a poor time to push her over the sharp edge of sexual hunger.

Daniel and Nathan climbed into the truck and it was as if every bit of air was sucked from the expansive cab. Even in her vast inexperience with all this changing stuff, she knew the scent of her animalistic desire filled the space.

Both male shifters turned to stare at her. Tension radiated from them and the very air became a tinderbox destined to ignite at any moment.

Embarrassed heat climbed over Livvy’s face to mingle with the hot flash of lust that consumed her. Ill-timed. All of it. If she could have crawled into a hole somewhere, she would have. Deep inside her body, her beast shifted, moved, cried out for the men sitting beside her—recognizing these males as mates who would claim her and bring her bursting to life.

Recognized them. Mates!

“Fuck.” Daniel’s curse was low and throaty as he started the ignition and stomped on the gas. “I smell your heat. How close are you?”

Nathan pulled her against him and Olivia whimpered. “C-close. Coming on for weeks but nothing like this. I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize. Not to us.” Nathan settled his face against her hair. “What you’re feeling is the most natural thing in the world for jag shifters. Daniel and I have waited for over two hundred years to find our mate and without warning, you’ve fallen into our laps. You know how rare female jags are. It’s a miracle. You are a miracle. Believe it.”

While Nathan pulled her tighter against his big, hard body, she watched Daniel punch a number into his cell phone. “Carlos? Daniel White Horse. We’ve found Olivia Russell alive and well. Yeah. Yes, it’s great news,” he said. “Nate and I found her trussed up in a shed north of San Antonio. Heavily wooded area.” He paused. “That’s right. Yeah, she’s okay.” Daniel glanced at her. “No, no sexual assault. No sign of the shithead who took her but we haven’t gone through the shed. That’s up to you guys. We just got her out of there. Once she’s settled down a little bit, I’ll call with more details. Yes, I know you’ll need to talk with her ASAP.”

Nathan’s hand lazily stroked her arm.

Daniel’s voice, dark and husky, pulled hypnotically at her senses as he finished the call. Several minutes later, he braked to a stop in front of a huge two-story limestone house that had “history” stamped all over it. The place sparkled like a diamond in moonlight, looking like the home she’d never thought to have.

She couldn’t think about that now.

A whipcord of rapidly spiraling lust ripped through Livvy so suddenly, she gasped sharply, gaining the attention of both men. A high, agonized cry burst from her lips. Savage need wound through her core, coiling like a snake in her belly, and she knew her eyes had gone wide. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Nathan wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Shit. We have to get her inside. Quick.”