I Kissed a Dog (29 page)

I’d know soon enough.

***

Chapter 37

I detected the minute we entered a building. The lingering scent of flowers was replaced
by the stale, sweat-tinged odor of too many people crowded together.

My blindfold was yanked off, getting caught for one agonizing moment in my tangled
curls. “Ouch!” I yelped. “You don’t have to be so rough.”

Jazmine trilled. A sound that sent shivers down my spine.

Her laughter was minus even a hint of happiness. Rather it rang with perverse pleasure
over my discomfort. I figured her attempts at niceties were long over. Part of me
was glad. I was tired of playing games with a serial killer who was lusting after
my husband.

She grasped my chin in her hand, forcing my face within an inch of hers. “Rhonda mentioned
you had a sarcastic streak. She also said you were used to getting what you wanted.
I can relate to that. I always get what I want. Which means, you won’t.” She flicked
my chin, hard, before tugging me into a headlock.

Opposed to violence, I was shocked to find my mind reeling with ways to snap the offending
finger right off her hand. Revenge, one thing I’d always avoided and discouraged others
from enacting, had never looked sweeter.

A crowd had formed, distracting me from my vengeful thoughts. They were watching us,
some licking their lips, anticipating more violence.

With my head secured in Jasmine’s grip, I could see those standing behind her. They
were all women. Attractive women dressed in tan uniforms. There were girls as young
as twelve or thirteen and women in their fifties, maybe older.

Their commonality was their beauty.

I remembered my vow at the hotel — stop being a victim.

I’d conveniently forgotten somewhere along the way that dumping the victim role didn’t
equal being reckless. I was just too tired of Jazmine’s abuse to refrain from spouting
off more careless words. “You won’t get Zane. He loves me. You can’t force him to
love you, can you, Jazmine? Can you?”

The change came without warning. I barely sensed the vibration before her clothing
blasted in every direction.

A black bra strap snapped against my cheek as it sailed by. Jazmine landed on all
fours in full wolf form. She circled, snarling and snapping, her gums trembled, drawing
my gaze to her razor-sharp canines. I recalled in that instant that wolves had forty-two
teeth, and I was pretty damn sure I was getting a good view of most of them.

The ring of surrounding women stepped back. Some had their backs pressed against the
concrete walls. They looked as terrified as I felt.

“No!” A male voice shouted. “Honey, please, settle down.”

She swung her head in the direction of his voice. Martin, the least-trusted elder,
from yesterday’s board meeting, pushed through the growing crowd of females. His faithful
German Shepherd on his heels.

Although somewhat startled by his appearance, I wasn’t that surprised. His dog had
already revealed Martin’s connection to the redheaded woman
—
Jazmine. I was still having a hard time accepting they were the same heartless woman.

The regal charcoal wolf she’d become whined, her attention now on the man.

“Remember our goals. You wanted her alive. We have too much at stake,” Martin soothed.
“Let’s get you a hot bath.”

She nodded her massive head and turned one last time to glare at me before trotting
away at his side. The minute she was out of sight, several women hurried to collect
what was left of her clothing. They understood what was expected of them.

I realized then that another window-of-opportunity had opened wide. No one seemed
interested in me, and the red wig was splayed across my feet.

Taking advantage of my latest window, I reached down and made a show of massaging
my calves while stuffing the tangled mess up the pant leg of my jeans, thankful I
wasn’t wearing one of my skinny-legged pairs.

Curious, several women continued to stare at me. I rubbed my legs and rotated my hips
from side to side before returning to an upright position. I kneaded my lower back
and grimaced.

“Are you okay?” A blonde asked, her striking blue eyes mirroring concern.

“Stiff. Too much tension I guess.” I rotated my shoulders.

Her eyes moved from my face and darted around the lobby. She started to speak, but
grimaced instead when Jazmine’s two musclemen rounded the corner, flanking me. Each
grasped an elbow, squeezing harder than the situation warranted.

The blonde woman dropped her head to stare at the floor, avoiding any further eye
contact.

I was more than irritated by the men’s’ intimidating attitudes. “Stop it! You’re hurting
me!” I snapped. Not only was I annoyed, but I was also getting sick and tired of being
manhandled and bossed around. I wanted my old life back. And if that wasn’t possible,
I wanted to at least hear what the blonde had to say and adjust my plans if necessary.

“You’re lucky The Mistress didn’t …” the tallest drew his fingernail across his jugular,
adding semi-realistic gurgling effects.

“Wow. So mature,” I muttered. Despite their physical prowess, these guys were lacking
in the intelligence department.

Several women smiled, encouraging me. One slapped a hand over her mouth, forcing what
might have been laughter into submission. The majority still looked shaken, and a
few appeared alarmed by the situation. I couldn’t wait to find out why they were being
held.

Ignoring my last remarks, my terrifying tour guides steered me down a long corridor.
The tall rude mutant, on my left, was without doubt leaving imprints where his fingers
pressed mercilessly into my upper arm.

I tried once to pull free, but he tightened his grip in retaliation. Between the throbbing
in my arm and the wig tickling my leg, walking wasn’t easy. Trying my best to ignore
these inconveniences, I surveyed my surroundings, searching for any possible escape
route.

What I saw did little to increase my confidence.

We were trapped in what appeared to be an abandoned school.

Each passing door had a window, and I could see more women. Some were resting inside
what looked like classrooms turned dormitories. Others were seated at sewing machines.
Several classrooms were filled with supplies, weapons, and canned food. The place
reminded me of a women’s minimum security prison combined with a survival training
camp of some sort. Cameras were mounted above us, red lights blinking as they monitored
our movements. Throughout the hallways, men patrolled with assault rifles resting
on their shoulders.

This building was not escape friendly. I’d have my work cut out for me. I needed some
major help
— supernatural help.

From my brief observations, I’d determined that most of the women were scared, and
they also appeared unhappy with their circumstances. If I could gather enough support
for my cause, we could overthrow Jazmine and her crew. There were more than enough
weapons to go around.

At the passages end, a staircase wound downward. Fantastic. This had to be the way
to my new home in the lower hallway

Forcing my feet together, I refused to take another step without first testing the
loyalty of Jazmine’s closest sidekicks. “Why do you listen to Jazmine? She’s just
using you. You could fight back like real men, you know.”

“And why would we want to do that?” Mr. Tight Grip said, digging his fingers deeper
into my flesh. I winced, and a little whimper escaped my mouth.

“Because she’s a lying bitch,” I managed to hiss through gritted teeth.

“Man, let up on her arm,” my right-sided captor commanded. He released my arm, taking
a long step back. I knew what was going to happen next.

Since mutants no longer required a full moon to shift, I’d guessed right.

In what seemed like slow motion, his snout elongated and his body expanded, sprouting
patches of fur in the process. Fingers became razor sharp claws, and his mouth filled
with jagged fangs. I wasn’t sure how, but unlike the purebreds, his clothing stayed
on, sort of. They were ripped and tattered like the Incredible Hulk’s after his transmutation.

Instead of shifting, his taller counterpart, whipped out his sidearm and a crackle
of gunfire followed, pulverizing my defender’s chest. He stumbled and tottered before
plummeting backward, furry arms flailing but failing to stop his fall.

What felt like a small earthquake rocked the concrete floor, causing me to topple
forward. I landed with a thud next to the bloodied mutant. The holes in his chest
were more than bleeding; they were smoking. Silver — of course — the one thing that
could kill both werewolves and mutants.

“Listen,” with a gurgling, wet sound the fallen creature managed to whisper.

I leaned forward, pressing my ear to his snout. Afraid he might not finish, I plunged,
without permission, into what were surely his last thoughts.
I’m in your mind. Think, don’t talk.

I’m Dante. I’m so sorry. I was trying to help. They’re creating an army.

I didn’t like the sound of that.
For what?

To destroy the purebreds and take over their holdings, then the humans.
His chest rattled as death crept closer.

A hand grabbed my shoulder, ripping me from Dante’s shuddering form.

The bald men can help. The old barge …

What barge?
I asked hoping to latch onto his final thought.

It was too late. He was already shrinking, his human body replacing the mutant one.

I’d never been inside an animal’s mind at the moment of death. What I felt was empty
darkness, like the universe without stars. The shell remained, but the soul had departed.
Dante, I hoped, was in a better place.

For the first time since my capture, I allowed a tsunami of hopelessness to wash over
me. Wave after wave, bowed my body until I was grasping my thighs. A torrent of hot
tears followed.

Without comment, my remaining guard yanked me upright. This time, I marched obediently
beside him down the staircase. I could hear doors above opening and women screaming.
I knew the other guards were already descending on Dante’s motionless form.

They’d seen the whole thing. One or two of them had even laughed. Their laughter was
what pushed me over the edge. What little faith I’d clung to was washed away with
my tears.

It was hard to hang onto hope when your tormentors found death something to laugh
about.

Chapter
38
23

I entered the lower hall defeated and resigned to experiencing a painful and dehumanizing
death at the hands of Jazmine and her followers.

Maybe I’d been wrong to believe a werewolf could love a human.

After seeing how the
other
side lived, I was beginning to doubt Zane’s intentions. He’d admitted to deceiving
me, and then he’d initiated our Vegas wedding night fiasco, yet another example of
his poor judgment and lack of compassion. Jazmine was better suited for him. She’d
have no problem standing up to his chauvinistic ways.

I shoved all thoughts of Zane aside. In all likelihood, I’d never see him again, and
dwelling on our short-lived relationship did nothing but depress me more. I had one
thing to be grateful for. Since my tearful meltdown, Mr. Tall and Rude had loosened
his death grip on my arm and was whistling an old Beatles’ tune. I made every effort
to stay steady as I struggled to keep up with his longer gait.

Instead of the classroom windows I’d seen on the upper floor, this hall featured doors
devoid of any windows.

We reached the corridor’s midway point, and much to my relief, Mr. Tall and Rude ceased
both his off-tune whistling and brisk stride to scrutinize a door that looked as battered
and beaten as I felt.

Deep gouges twisted down its full length, giving the appearance that something with
knife-wielding claws had sought entrance. I swallowed hard, a new storm of fear brewing
in my stomach.

To make matters worse, the basement corridor didn’t have that busy school feeling
I’d noticed above. It was sinister, and eerily quiet.

The scratched door loomed in the background. My eyes were drawn back to it like a
magnet to metal. I could survive with mold, mildew, and gloom, but living in dread,
while I waited for some mystery monster to tear through the door, sent my faith spiraling
downward.

A lone guard manning his post at the hallway’s end was the single breathing thing
in my line of vision. Seeing the casual way he lounged behind his computer monitor
drew my attention from the door.

In this hauntingly similar place, I was reminded of Joshua’s cell-like room in the
mental institution. I was also reminded of my pledge to get him out.

I didn’t break promises.

In what seemed like slow motion, Mr. Tall and Rude fished out a key ring. “Home sweet
home,” he said, sounding cheerful.

I decided to ignore him and keep my mouth clamped shut. I prayed that my current good
behavior would earn me a meal.

The gnawing in my stomach was prompting grumbles loud enough to slice through the
stillness. If I didn’t eat and sleep soon, I’d really be grumbling. Once my basic
needs were satisfied, I’d get back to finding some way to keep my promise of freedom
for Joshua Smart.

“You’re quarters,” my escort announced snide as ever. The door swung open revealing
a barren and dreary room.

Four army cots with a blanket and pillow lined the far back wall. A sink and toilet
were hidden behind a filth-singed room divider. With no windows, I was painfully aware
that I would be lucky to have shadows as my constant companions.

One undersized bulb flickered from the ceiling. Day and night would blur.

“Who’ve we got now?” I recognized the hall monitor as he swaggered past and left a
stack of towels and my travel bag on the end cot. “You hungry?” he added, looking
my way and ignoring the sudden scowl on Mr. Tall and Rude’s face.

Before I could get my mouth open, my original escort answered, adding one more rude
reason to detest him. “She’s hungry, probably thirsty too. Her name’s Chloe Carpenter
and she’s a high priority prisoner. The Mistress is unhappy with this one. She’s a
sneaky one.” He shot me a look that dared me to respond. “She’ll have fun bunking
with Connie and Deb.” He paused as if recalling something important. “Deb should be
transferring back upstairs by Friday.”

The new guard nodded with a look that said Deb’s imminent move was old news.

Whoever Deb was, I intended to discover what she’d done to earn relocation rights
to the upper level
.

The hall monitor turned his attention back to me. “I got P and J or ham and cheese.
What’ll it be?”

Certain I was pressing my luck, I forced what I hoped was a semi-sexy smile. “Both?”

Hall Monitor tossed his head back and roared, “A girl after my own heart!”

“Don’t get too cozy with her, Dillon, she’s trouble.”

I plopped on my cot and leaned against the concrete wall, ignoring the chill, and
the warning, too tired to protest. After some food and a few hours of sleep, I’d make
a point of earning my nickname.

Dillon would have an opportunity to meet Trouble face to face.

I was just swallowing my last bite of P and J when my roommates entered. Dillon patted
the blonde on her rear. She giggled, her cheeks flushing. I noted this with an annoying
touch from the green-eyed monster. Jealous that she’d somehow managed to find her
very own masculine light source in our dreary dungeon. Dillon was cute enough, especially
when he smiled. Dimples always helped. Their happiness only made my separation from
Zane that much harder to endure.

“This is Connie.” He nodded at the object of his interest.

“I’m Deb,” said the taller brunette.

I was still gaping at Connie. “You!” I recognized the woman as the blue-eyed blonde
from upstairs.

She stopped her flirting. “Isn’t this convenient?” She sounded less than pleased.

Not sure what else to do, I extended my hand. “I’m Chloe. You were getting ready to
tell me something …”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. You must have confused me with someone else.”
She shot me a warning look.

Not wanting to alienate her before I had a chance to pick her brain, I just nodded.
“You’re probably right. I’m not sure who I saw. I was pretty out of it.”

Dillon turned to study me. “You’re awful tiny to be so much trouble, but I’ll tell
you what I told these two …”

“Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you,” the women chorused.

“Great. Make me look like a big softy. I’m going to grab Ms. Chloe her surprise desert.
You want anything?” He looked pointedly at Connie. Her cheeks
glowed a deeper shade of rose
glowed.
.
I’d stumbled onto a serious prisoner captor love connection. If my intuition was
right, this was no casual flirtation. These two were smitten.

My roommates listed their requests, and I took the opportunity to disappear behind
the privacy screen with a partial change of clothing. With great care, I pulled Jazmine’s
wig from my pant leg and wrapped it in my dirty t-shirt. I tugged on my favorite oversized
sweatshirt, and hurried back to my bunk just as the deadbolt slid into place with
loud clunk.

I stuffed the wig-wadded-shirt into my bag and collapsed on the bunk. Deb and Connie
followed my example, both resting their backs against the concrete wall.

“So?” I glanced at Connie on the bunk to my left. Deb, on her far side, had pulled
a paperback from under her pillow.

Connie shook her head just enough for me to notice and glanced sideways at Deb. Our
conversation wouldn’t be happening while Deb was awake.

Frustrated that I’d have to wait for answers, I took another look around the room.
I hadn’t noticed four, three-drawer dressers on the wall opposite the make-shift bathroom.
No wonder their bunks were so bare.

Under the circumstances, I wasn’t sure I wanted my possessions out of reach, tucked
away in a dresser. I still had the symbol tracings to review, and my cell phone was
resting secure below my breasts. As much as I hated a too-snug bra, this one was successfully
supporting and camouflaging the added weight. I doubted I’d get a signal down here,
but I’d damn sure try at the first opportunity.

A second later, I heard thunderous footsteps approaching. They stopped right outside
our door.

I held my breath, too scared to breathe, panicking as I envisioned the vicious claw
marks. But instead of a mutant monster, the friendly hall monitor entered, laden with
more food. At least starvation wouldn’t be an issue.

“Your sweets have arrived,” Dillon announced. This time he delivered our food but
didn’t linger, to Connie’s obvious disappointment. He seemed preoccupied.

Relieved to exhale, I examined my desert, which consisted of an ice cream sandwich
and a little tub of yogurt. The three of us ate in silence.

I still couldn’t figure out how Jazmine had found me. Alcuin had rented my room at
the hotel. Just he and Luke were aware that I was headed to Portland, and the only
one who knew my exact plans and whereabouts was Alcuin. The idea that he’d betrayed
me, Zane, and our close-knit group, seemed unfeasible. What could he hope to gain?
He was a vampire, not a mutant or werewolf. It just didn’t add up.

Considering Alcuin as an enemy wasn’t what I wanted. Nothing in my life was making
sense anyway.

I stuffed my travel bag under my ultra-thin pillow and turned on my side, making sure
to face my two roommates. My stepdad had taught me the importance of that timeless
trick. Having my back to them wasn’t an option, not if I wanted to ensure I was alive
tomorrow.

Deb was buried in her book, and Connie was stretched out on her back, eyes closed.
I had no clue what time it was. All I cared about was getting some much-overdue sleep,
before I made more mistakes to regret later.