“Hi.” She turned toward him, an itch wandering up her spine. The moon would rise soon. “You know I only shift under the full moon, right?”
Interest lit his dark eyes. “I did know that.”
She pivoted to face him fully, adrenaline pumping through her veins. He was so much bigger up close—did she have a chance? She cleared her throat. “Well, I wondered if you wanted to shift with me. This one night I’d like to run with another wolf.”
He lifted his chin. Those eyes narrowed to all black, suspicion swirling through. His voice stayed level. “Normally, I’d love to. But since we’re expecting a werewolf attack in a couple hours, maybe next time?”
Anger heated her breath. While she’d had no intention of shifting with him, he’d refused far too easily. “You’re not worried about werewolves attacking. You’re ready to kill Jordan if he changes.” How could Terrent consider himself Jordan’s friend and still want to kill him when there was even a chance of the virus being cured?
Terrent grabbed her arm, tugging toward the building. Warmth and raw strength flowed from his palm. “We’re not discussing this. Now you go underground to safety, and I’ll see you later.”
Maggie stumbled, reaching for her boot. Quick motions had the gun levered into Terrent’s ribs.
“What the hell?” He tried to pull back.
She fired three times.
Shock crossed his features. He released her. Most people tripped, fell, or tried to move away when shot with a tranquilizer. Not the wolf. He stood still, head cocked to the side, a deep frown between his masculine brows. “What did you do?”
The weapon remained steady in her hands as she settled her stance and aimed for his chest. “Just a simple dart—you’ll be fine in a couple of hours.”
Curiosity lit his eyes while his full mouth grimaced. “You drugged me?”
Well, not yet apparently. “Yes.”
Incredulousness flashed bright across his face. “Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you?”
Fear spiraled deep before being shoved away by determination. “Not much.” She fired four more darts into his chest.
He growled low, lunging for her. The air swished. Gigantic hands enclosed her shoulders. They hit the ground together. Three hundred pounds of muscled male landed on top of her, knocking the air from her lungs. Panic zinged through her. She shoved him, but he didn’t move. His head dropped to the curve of her shoulder as he went limp.
“Terrent.” She tried to struggle beneath him, but he remained motionless. The guy was out.
Her abdomen compressed. The chilly ground ate into her clothing. She had to get him off while she could still breathe. He weighed a freakin’ ton. “Charlie,” she squeaked. “Charlie, where are you?”
The shifter slid from behind a tree, hustling to shove Terrent off. “Man, he’s a big wolf.” Doubt wrinkled Charlie’s forehead.
“Yeah.” Maggie sucked in big lungfuls of air. “Help me drag him to the helicopter.”
Charlie scratched his head. His Snoopy T-shirt glowed in the meager light of the emerging moon. He’d worn ripped jeans, tennis shoes, and a black hat for his foray into kidnapping. “I’m thinking this isn’t such a great idea.”
Yeah, she was thinking the same thing. “Listen. Terrent is a good guy, I know. But his job is to take out Jordan, someone whom Janie loves like an uncle. She asked you to help us and you said yes.” Manipulating the teenager wasn’t cool, but it was the only chance Maggie had. “You’d be doing the right thing.” In the long run, anyway. Short run, they might end up torn apart by a pissed-off wolf. “Trust me.”
Charlie groaned, grabbing Terrent by one armpit. “Anyone who tells you to trust them is about to get you in trouble.”
Smart kid. Maggie flashed him a grin, latching on to Terrent’s other side. For the briefest of seconds, she’d enjoyed being under the wolf. Something to worry about later.
Groaning, moaning, and tugging with all their strength, they managed to drag the man across the training field to the row of helicopters. His heels left huge divots in the grassy field. Several times his weight became too much, and one of them dropped his shoulder to the ground. His head inevitably followed. The wolf might have a concussion when he awoke. Finally, they reached the tarmac and released his arms. She wiped sweat off her brow. “You’re sure you know how to fly one of these things?”
“Yeah.” Charlie winced. “Though I don’t know how the heck we’re gonna get this guy up into one. He’s so damn heavy.”
Maggie nodded and shook out her hands. Panthers were notoriously good pilots—often learning as young as ten years old to fly. “Okay. Let’s just lift him one body part at a time.”
Charlie frowned, reaching for Terrent’s arm. “This is such an incredibly bad idea.” With a youthful shrug, he centered a knee inside the door. “At least he’s a wolf and not a panther leader. My Alpha will protect me. Well, probably.” With a grunt, he yanked Terrent up.
Maggie shoved. After several thuds and thunks, they had Terrent safe on the floor of the ’copter. His big head clunked loudly on the metal. She fought a wince. They wanted to get the wolf out of the way for the night, not give him brain damage. She jumped in and yanked the door shut. “All right. Let’s get out of here—head east and keep on going.”
Charlie maneuvered to sit in the pilot’s seat and began punching in buttons. “No girl is worth this,” he muttered.
Too little, too late, buddy. Maggie settled into a seat, her gaze on the downed wolf. He lay on his back, shoulders taking up the entire floor. Long, dark eyelashes feathered against his bronze cheeks—way too long for a man. In rest, or rather, in a drugged state, he still didn’t appear at peace. Even now, the sense of an alert predator danced across the tough features of his face. She wondered who had broken his nose, and if that person still breathed. Somehow, she doubted it.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly. So far she’d kneed him in the balls and now knocked him out. A guy most people feared. A sadness chilled her. He was the only wolf she knew, and he really wasn’t going to like her now. The guy probably liked quiet, demure, classy women.
She failed on all counts.
Maybe he would’ve liked who she used to be before losing her memory. But considering nobody else liked her enough to be looking for her, she kind of doubted it. Besides, class was something you either had or didn’t have—memory loss wouldn’t impact that.
Whoever she used to be, she knew exactly who she was right now. Katie’s best friend. And that meant Maggie would do anything to help—even kidnap a killer.
The bird rose into the sky. Maggie clutched onto the seat, her stomach lurching. Man, she hated flying. Most wolves probably hated flying, right? Or maybe she was different in that way, too.
Moonlight glinted off the treetops outside. An urge rippled through her veins. After ten years, she could control the need to shift, but the effort cost her. Her legs moved restlessly, and her heart began to pound.
Needing to preoccupy herself, she studied the wolf. He’d worn a black T-shirt that only emphasized his muscular chest. Was that a six-pack? She glanced at Charlie. The kid concentrated on the night, his gaze out the windshield. Good. Leaning down, Maggie slid Terrent’s shirt up.
Oh yeah. Talk about ripped. Hesitantly, she slid her palm over the hard ridges of his abdominal muscles. Heated flesh warmed her skin. Desire flared bright through her. She bit her lip to keep from moaning.
A huge hand slapped over hers.
Oh God. The breath caught in her throat. Lifting her head, she stared into dark brown eyes more wolf than human.
With a tug, he landed her on top of him.
Panic had her struggling.
His other hand palmed her head, slamming her lips onto his. Need shot through her followed by pure, raw lust. He kissed her, tongue delving deep, an obvious erection pressing against her core.