Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (37 page)

Ingrid looked from one to the other.
“Wy?”

“We're getting you out of here,
fast."

The female handed Ingrid the Ice. “Try
not to talk." Ingrid had her arms wrapped protectively around her
middle, the pain still raw. “Did the wolf injure your ribs?” Ingrid
nodded, gasping when the female got close to a tender
area.

Johnny glared in her direction. “Take
it easy, Liz.”

“Sorry.”

"My troo?" Ingrid pointed out the
door, worried about the others.

Johnny answered. "We have them.
They're all safe and out of here, except Gene and Mack. They
insisted on waiting for you in the shuttle. Tom and I didn't feel
like knocking them out and carrying them to the vehicle, so we were
forced to agree,” he laughed. Ingrid thought the young man was
amazingly upbeat for someone who was in horrible danger of being
killed by Joseph’s pack.

Ingrid tried to smile but she was
certain it ended up looking more like a wince.

Johnny continued, "We need you to
morph into a maid now. That'll be the easiest way to get you out of
here."

"Noo, I..."

He shook his head and scowled.
"Ingrid, please morph now."

She was hurting and scared and not in
the mood to be ordered around. "You can't..."

Johnny scowled. "I warned you." And
out of the blue, an enormous blast of magic hit her upside the
head.

"Ow, ow!" She glanced at her
reflection in the ornate mirror hanging by the bar and was
astonished to see a middle aged, five foot two inch human woman,
dressed in the hotel maid uniform. There was no blood splattered on
her dress, and her lips weren’t swollen at all. Unfortunately,
morphing didn’t take away the underlying injuries. Ingrid’s mouth
and ribs were still on fire.

"Wha…how...?" she
sputtered.

Johnny’s hand on her
shoulder brought her back to the present. "I’ll answer all of your
questions later. Right now, I need you to stay safe. Make a left
outside the room and head to the service elevator." Her purse flew
through the air from Liz’s direction and she was able to catch it
easily. Johnny handed her a stack of clean towels to use as a prop,
then moved toward Joseph, still
resting
on the carpet.

“Are you going to kill them?” Ingrid
asked.

“And have the dozens of wolf packs he
controls after my hide? No thanks.”

“We should talk about this later.” The
female took her arm, scowling at the delay. "C'mon Ingrid. Follow
me." Liz’s morph into a maid was as smooth as any morph Ingrid had
ever achieved.

"Wow." Ingrid followed her down the
hall and into the elevator like an obedient puppy. Despite her
close call with death and the pain she was enduring, Ingrid was
grinning like a monkey. Her life as an ingénue in a theta troupe
was over, and she was way too excited to be as terrified as logic
would dictate.

Then again, maybe she should re-think
her happy thoughts. She was in an elevator with a dangerous
stranger who might decide to kill her or ransom the troupe back to
The Director for a boatload of money. Thoughts of The Director had
her shivering. When the creep found out what happened with the
wolf, he'd send his best people after her and possibly the entire
troupe. Their chances of survival were dismal at best.

Tonight, a door had been slammed shut
and bolted down tight. But someone unexpected had drilled an escape
hatch into the floor, and Ingrid was jumping down the rabbit hole
without a second’s hesitation. She pulled out her purse mirror.
Yep, she was smiling again.

Liz took a few steps back, giving
Ingrid as wide a berth as was possible in an elevator.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE

When Mack saw the two small females
dressed as maids walking toward the van, he finally allowed his
lungs to take in air. Gene and he were in the rear seat, but Mack
shoved Gene into the middle row, so Ingrid could join him in the
back.

Gene laughed. “I don’t want to hear
any heavy breathing back there.”

The man in the driver's seat had
introduced himself as Tom. He’d been in communication with Johnny
and had told them what Liz and Johnny had found in the suite where
the alpha had taken Ingrid.

The first maid stuck her head in the
side door. "I'm Liz. You need to morph, guys. Pick something
generic. We're traveling back to Staten Island as soon as Johnny
finishes." Once inside the shuttle, the brunette maid transitioned
quickly into an auburn-haired woman dressed in a business suit,
wearing glasses, her hair pulled back in a bun.

"Where are you taking us?” Gene
asked.

“A safe house.” Liz
answered.

“What's going to happen when those
wolves wake up?" Ingrid asked.

"They're the least of our problems.
Morph."

Gene and Mack transitioned into
average looking businessmen in off-the-rack suits, and Ingrid went
for the same look. All the guys laughed at her thick black
mustache.

"Hey, I simply thought one of us
should change sex, too. In case anyone who stops us is
counting."

“If anyone stops us it’ll be the last
thing they do.” Tom muttered.

Johnny arrived and slid in next to
Gene. "Did the wolves wake up?" Ingrid asked.

"We'll talk when we get where we're
going. Why don't you relax? You've been through a lot tonight."
Johnny handed her a large cup of ice and a washcloth.

Mack took Ingrid’s hand. "Are you
hurt?"

"Joseph decided to use me as a
punching bag, but I'll be fine in an hour or so."

"I'll kill him." Gene and Mack said it
simultaneously, which earned a laugh from Tom and a wince from
Ingrid.

Mack sent a mental message
to Gene and Ingrid.
"I don't like how
they're not answering our questions."

Gene shook his head.
"
So far they’ve done nothing threatening,
plus let’s not forget they saved Ingrid’s life. We should take
their advice and rest—pull in a little extra power. They’re
obviously thetas and they must need our help, otherwise why take
the risk? These three are probably as freaked out by us as we are
by them."

Gene might be right. Mack would get
his answers soon enough, and to be honest, he could barely keep his
eyes open.

Ingrid sighed, so he glanced her way,
unable to hide his smile at her unexpected appearance. The tight
curls, long nose, and thin mouth gave no hint of her usual feminine
features. She even sounded like a man when she spoke, not an easy
feat for most theta females. He was constantly in awe of her
ability to think on her feet, along with her stubborn refusal to
give in to fear.

She was leaning against his shoulder,
her eyes closed, so Mack sent her a wash of his energy and watched
the corners of her mouth curl up, mustache and all. As they entered
the Battery Tunnel, he settled back and drifted into
sleep.

Mack became aware again forty-five
minutes later, when they pulled into the parking lot of a large
liquor store and drove around to the back of the building. There
was a smaller brick building nestled between some trees along the
waterfront, about the size of a three car garage, with a few dirty
windows and a weather-beaten door. It was hidden from the road and
appeared abandoned. Tom parked and Liz led them through the
entrance into a small foyer, then into a much larger sitting
room.

Mack’s eyes widened as he looked
around in disbelief. The place seemed to be much larger than it
appeared from the outside, with brightly colored walls, beautifully
varnished wooden floors, and colorful area rugs. Kids’ artwork hung
everywhere, along with photographs of New York City parks and
beaches and an occasional landscape oil painting.

Johnny motioned for them to follow him
down a hallway. "We'll getcha somethin’ to eat." He escorted them
into another large room with fold out picnic tables and a huge
kitchen. Tom headed to the fridge and pulled three pizzas out of
the freezer while the three thetas looked around. He shoved them in
the solar oven and came back to join the group.

"A witch friend of ours was able to
work a glamour spell on the outside of the building. No one can see
what it really looks like."

Everyone had morphed back to their own
skins again, dressed in casual clothes. "Where are the other
members of our troupe?" Gene asked.

"Sleeping. We needed to talk to the
three of you alone, so we gave them rooms, and tucked ’em
in."

Gene scowled. "That's bull. They'd
have waited up to see if Ingrid was okay."

"We didn't really give ’em that
option."

"You mentally manipulated them to go
to sleep?" Mack was fuming.

"No. No, we can’t…we don’t do that. We
slipped a teaspoon of soothing balm into their tea.”

"You have a lot of fucking nerve using
drugs..." Ingrid had found the energy to snarl, despite her
exhaustion.

Liz crossed her arms over her chest,
scanning them closely. “Look, we risked our necks and saved your
asses. You could show a little gratitude.” She frowned and headed
toward the fridge, pulling out a large bottle of filtered water,
opening a cupboard and bringing down glasses.

“We’re grateful, we are. But why do
you need to talk to only the three of us?” Mack asked.

“You’re the key to a plan we’ve
hatched. After we talk, we’ll decide what ta do with ya." Johnny
said.

"You're threatening us?" Mack took an
angry step toward Johnny.

Johnny held up a placating
hand. "No, of course not. We need your help and you need
ours.
We
aren't
your enemies. After what happened tonight, The Director’ll send his
soldiers out to hunt ya down. He'll wantcha caught and disposed of
quickly before word leaks out that ya openly defied him. You're
safer here with us than anywhere else."

Tom brought over the pizzas indicating
the picnic table on the right. "Why don't you sit down and eat? You
must be hungry.”

"Is this drugged too?" Gene sniffed at
a slice of pizza he’d picked up.

Tom laughed, "No. We can't talk to you
if you're falling asleep at the table."

"Good, 'cause I'm starving." Gene’s
first bite took care of half the slice. “Those cheap wolves ran out
of appetizers fast.”

“You probably ate most of them,”
Ingrid teased. Mack grinned, happy to see Ingrid was in good
spirits despite the pain.

“How did you get everyone else
out?”

“Liz and I morphed into demons and
told the wolves the evening was over and the Director expected the
troupe ta leave.”

“Johnny morphed into Rem.” Liz
added.

“Impressive.” Mack had already decided
to listen to what they had to say before taking any action. He sat
on the bench next to Ingrid and handed her a slice. She looked pale
and probably needed to refuel with some healthy food, or she'd end
up passing out. Although her mouth seemed to have healed, there
were still a couple of bad bruises visible on her arm where the
alpha must have grabbed her.

Mack swallowed down his
fury since there was no one to release it on
"Would you like some energy to help you heal?"

"Yes. Thanks. I did some
scary shit with the alpha—stuff I didn't know for sure I could do.
I’m pretty beat."

He sent her a moderate wash, keeping
one eye on their three rescuers who were observing them with wary
expressions. Trust wouldn't come easily, but his trio needed some
damn answers and the best way to accomplish that feat was through
negotiation and diplomacy. His specialty.

How had they known Ingrid was in
trouble with the alpha? She'd been so confident their combined
powers would’ve given her the strength to trick him, but something
must have gone wrong. When Johnny and Liz had approached him in the
stairwell, they weren’t in their normal form. He’d known instantly
from their axis energy that they were thetas, but what troupe were
they from? And why hadn’t there been any information online about
thetas who’d escaped from a troupe?

Mack watched the three of them move
around the familiar space like a well-oiled machine, taking note of
their interactions and emerging personalities. Liz's high forehead
and full lips were usually wrinkled and frowning with irritation.
She was lean like most ingénues, but slightly more muscular, as if
she worked out with weights. Ingénues tried to keep their muscle
mass down, making it easier on their partners who had to execute
elaborate lifts. Liz’s dark red hair was thick and wavy, her nose a
little crooked, maybe from a past break that hadn’t healed
correctly. Her large, hazel eyes glittered with anger and
intelligence. Dressed in black leather pants, a tight sleeveless
tee shirt and leather wrist guards, she looked like a serious
badass. It wasn’t the kind of outfit he’d picture an ingénue ever
choosing as everyday wear.

On the opposite side of the coin was
Tom, a guy who seemed fairly laid back and friendly. He was
definitely younger than Johnny—the self-declared leader of this
motley group—with the lean, strong build of a typical Gene, but too
short to have been trained in that capacity. He must’ve been
trained as a techie like he and Alan were. Tom was sitting next to
Liz, smiling and chatting about the supplies they needed to order
to keep everyone fed and clothed. Tom seemed to be the go-to supply
guy.