“That’s the spirit. We’ll set up a new lab in Wyoming. I’ve grown quite tired of this heat. And the Mistress, well she’ll want to return here eventually. Perhaps the mountain air will entice her to stay.”
“Out West? Really? I’ve always wanted to see Yellowstone.” As a camper, not a captive. “When do we leave? I’m a mess.”
“Always beautiful in my eyes, darling. Your intellect is captivating,” he purred into her ear.
“I’m still weak though. I don’t think I’d be able to keep up with you. If I could just shift, I think I’d be okay to go,” she suggested innocently.
“We’d need to discuss that with the Mistress. I can’t allow…”
“You don’t have the power to do it? What I meant to say is that it was your brilliance that researched the genetics, created a wolf from a human. It’s the first time it’s been done in history. Your name should be published in the New England Journal of Medicine. This is a historic medical breakthrough. It’ll have far-reaching implications across the world. I imagine all the Ivy League schools will be clamoring to have you teach,” she boasted. She knew she was laying it on thick but she watched in pleasure as his eyes glossed over in dreams of grandeur.
“Sir,” Wynter pleaded demurely. Batting her eyelashes, she seductively glided her fingers from her mouth down to the valley between her breasts. “I really am a mess. My lips…my neck. Of course, I’d need to take my clothes off in order to shift.”
Étienne’s cock jerked in response. How he’d missed watching her in her underwear while he held her in his lab. Viewing her nude was a gift he’d earned, deserved. The Mistress would not approve but she wasn’t here, was she? Just a small peek wouldn’t hurt. She’d be well enough to travel and he’d fuck her later.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, but you must promise to be a good girl.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Wynter breathed calmly as his cool lips touched her skin, resisting the urge to flinch. She just needed to shift and then she’d have a chance to escape. In her current condition, she couldn’t stand, let alone run or fight. For a second, she thought he’d changed his mind as he stood to retrieve a pair of gloves from his pocket.
“Gloves, darling. The silver,” he noted. He knelt before her like Logan had done to her in the lab. “This’ll take just a minute.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he’d hurry. Luckily he couldn’t get too close to the silver as he wrapped his arms around her, unfastening the corset. Her lungs wheezed as the poisonous metal fell to the floor. A fresh rush of energy circulated throughout her body.
“I think I’m okay,” she told him. He’d braced her sides with his hands, his thumbs resting under her breasts. “I need to do this alone. You can watch, of course.”
“Of course,” he hissed. She was so lovely. And his. With the Mistress gone, he could take her quickly but then thought better of it. He stood and backed away but not before adjusting his erection that strained against his zipper.
Wynter slowly opened her lids and took a cleansing breath. Finally, he’d stopped smothering her. Freed, she could shift. She licked her lips nervously, considering how it would be the first time she’d attempted to do it by herself.
“Go on then,” he urged.
“Sorry, I just need a minute to make this work. I’m not as good at it as the others,” she told him truthfully.
“Aren’t you going to disrobe? I thought you said…”
“I will,” she cut him off. The pervert just wanted to see her naked. “I need to concentrate a minute first. The silver, my energy is low.”
Wynter closed her eyes again. Breathing in and out, she meditated, searching for her wolf. Come on, girl, let’s go. In her mind’s eye, she saw her wolf crouching, yelping in distress. Another wolf flashed as if she’d seen a vision: Logan. She could sense him and was certain he was coming for her.
As Étienne watched, she quickly tore off her shirt, shorts and bikini. The vampire’s eyes on her skin repulsed her, but she had no choice. Calling her wolf to the surface, the metamorphosis claimed her. But as quickly as it came her wolf disappeared, leaving her in a naked heap on the floor. She tried to shove off the silver corset that lay across her legs but once again she’d been impaired by the insidious metal. Unable to stand, she scrambled to pull on her shirt and shorts.
“What are you doing?” Fiona screamed at Étienne.
“She needs to shift if she’s going to go with us. Also, as you know, the shift enabled her blood count to rise,” he explained dryly.
Wynter gave him a look of confusion. Allowing her to shift had been a ruse to get her blood to regenerate? They were going to drain her.
“Idiot,” Fiona countered. “You do realize they’re coming? Get her blood now. We’ll take it with us.” She threw a bag at him.
“Sorry darling, this’ll only take a minute.” Étienne, still gloved, pushed Wynter to the floor, dragging the corset over her torso. He sorted out the needles, tubes, plastic bags now strewn about the wooden planks. “You are a quick dresser, aren’t you? Pity.”
“No, please,” Wynter begged, struggling under the weight of him. She needed to stall. “I promise I’ll help.”
“Certainly, now just a small prick,” he told her, jabbing the hypodermic needle into the crook of her arm. Smiling, he laughed as he did so. “I’m quite good at finding a vein.”
Like a quick-moving stream, her blood gushed through the thin plastic tubing, slowly filling the first bag. Wynter turned her face away from him, praying Logan was close. She knew from experience it would take at least ten minutes for him to collect the first pint. A woman of her size probably had only eight pints of blood in her whole body. Even though she hadn’t fully recovered her blood volume after his bite, she figured that with her preternatural wolf healing, she might survive after losing four or five pints, which equated to fifty minutes, tops.
“Hurry up with her,” Fiona yelled. She took the first bag and then a second from Étienne. “The boat’s ready to go. We’ll kill her, leave her body. Logan will stay here with his mate for at least a while. We’ll have plenty of time to get to shore. It’s only a short drive to Mississippi.”
“I hate to disappoint you Mistress, but we need to take care in collecting the samples. I don’t want to damage the red blood cells. Careful,” he instructed. “Put equal bags in the cryo-storage unit and the cooler. Some of these need to be frozen for long-term usage.”
“Whatever, just hurry,” Fiona said dismissively. “I can feel the pack. They’re getting closer.”
“I thought you said no one knew where this hellhole was?” he said accusingly.
“No one does,” she lied. “Just come on.”
She took the third bag and sealed it into the freezer and snapped it shut.
“Just one more bag and then we’ll go. She’s almost done,” he insisted.
“Fine, I’m taking this out to the boat. I’ll be right back.” No I won’t, she thought to herself.
Fiona opened and shut the door, careful not to make any noise. With the pack on her heels, time was up. She scurried over to the small skiff, got in and settled the cooling box between her legs. Frozen samples were better than fresh ones, she reasoned. She still had samples of Emma’s blood stored safely in another state. All she needed to do was get to dry land. She’d fly under the radar for a month or so and find a new scientist.
As the small outboard purred into the night, she caught the sight of lights in the distance. She smiled coldly knowing her Alpha would find his mate dead. And Étienne would fight to the death, wondering where she’d gone.