Red (3 page)

Steve put his hands out to catch Trisha as she almost fell over, but she managed to right herself and take a few steps before she nearly slid to the floor. Steve caught her on the way down and put one arm around her waist, holding her as she took wobbly steps toward the door. He would have carried her, but she was still able to walk and he wanted at least one arm free to fight, if need be.

“We took cabs here,” Trisha babbled as they headed toward the door. She fit nicely against him.

“I know,” he admitted, watching everything carefully.

The wolves were flanking the group of women, with Jed on point and Steve bringing up the rear. It was as good an arrangement as they could manage until they got outside. Luckily, the door wasn’t that far away.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” She kept talking while they neared the exit. “How long have you been following me? Since I landed, I bet. Deke probably called you the moment we left home.”

“Not quite. I only picked up your trail about two hours ago. Deke held off calling as long as he could, but the guy’s always had a sixth sense for trouble. Guess he was right, eh?” Steve paused long enough to deliver a back kick to the guy about to attack them from the behind.

She gasped as the man went flying and didn’t answer. Steve hustled her out the door and into the protection of the wolf Pack that was waiting outside. Jed was organizing the women into waiting vehicles. It was a measure of how far gone the women were that they didn’t really question who the guys were or where they were going. It was more than obvious to Steve that they’d all been dosed with something that had not only altered their scents, but also decimated their better judgment.

The way to the three vehicles had been cleared and kept that way by the wolves. Steve tossed the keys to his Harley to one of the younger guys, knowing he’d follow on the motorcycle. Steve wasn’t letting go of Trisha. She’d been drugged and nearly abducted. She wasn’t leaving his sight until this was all sorted out.

He helped her into the back of the last vehicle, a big SUV driven by the wolf Pack’s Alpha, Pete Newmar, whom Steve both liked and respected. Pete had been in the Marine Corps for a while. He’d left the Corps and learned his trade as a stone mason. In fact, he was one of the finest Redstone Construction employed and in charge of many of the really finicky projects that clients loved. He held rank not only within his own Pack of wolves, but within the larger Redstone Clan that encompassed everyone who worked for Redstone Construction—almost all of whom were shapeshifters of one kind or another.

The moment the doors were closed, Pete took off. One of the other girls was sitting next to Trisha, who was in the center of the back bench seat. Pete’s youngest son, Jeremy, was in the front passenger seat.

Steve’s sensitive hearing picked up the sound of his beloved Harley bringing up the rear. They made a neat little convoy as they headed out of the city and drove toward the development on the outskirts of Las Vegas where the Redstone Clan had settled.

Steve checked their back trail, as he knew the others were also doing. So far, there was no sign of pursuit.

“Where are you taking us?” Trisha’s head lolled against the back of the seat, as did her friend’s. The only difference between the two women was that Trisha was a little more awake.

“To safety,” Steve was quick to assure her. “You can call Deke if you want to make sure we’re on the level.”

“Are you kidding?” She shot him a look full of disbelief. “I’d sooner paint myself green and stroll naked down Main Street. No, thank you.” She was carefully enunciating each of her words and Steve guessed it took a lot of effort.

He admired her grit and he had to laugh at her reaction to calling her big brother. Steve would think long and hard before he made that call. On the one hand, Deke had always been a great man to have on his side in a fight. On the other, Deke probably wouldn’t be all that rational when it came to his sister. And there was the paranormal aspect of all this to consider. As far as Steve knew, Deke had no idea there really were such things as werewolves, vampires and all the rest, much less that Steve himself was a werecougar.

“So we’re going to your place?” Trisha insisted on picking up the thread of the conversation, such as it was. “Is it big enough for all of us?”

“We can take them to the Pack house,” Pete volunteered from the front. “There’s plenty of room there for all of them.”

Steve realized that was probably the best plan. Wolf Packs tended to enjoy the company of their Pack mates a lot more than other kinds of shifters, and they often built big Pack houses where the entire Pack could congregate for meals or events. It was also a rooming house, of sorts, designed to help out Pack members or friends in need. There were probably enough suites in the place this Pack had built to give every one of the women a place of their own.

“Sounds good,” Steve agreed with Pete, then turned back to Trisha, who was now leaning against him. She was a nice, warm bundle at his side, and Steve was sorely tempted to put his arm back around her. “Trisha, I’m not sure how much of this you’ll remember, but the man driving is my friend Pete. His son Jeremy is the one who helped your friend into the car. He’s in the passenger seat. They have a bed and breakfast. That’s where we’re going. Okay?”

Steve tried to keep it simple and at the same time wanted to reassure her that she was in safe hands. She seemed calm, but that could be a byproduct of whatever drug she’d been given. He didn’t want to cause her any more distress.

She nodded, then clutched her stomach and made a face that Steve understood all too well.

“You’d better pull over quick, Pete,” Steve instructed, taking Trisha’s free hand.

“The lead car just pulled over too,” Pete reported as he rolled to a stop on the side of the desert road. “One of the gals is barfing into a cactus.”

Chapter Two

Steve heard Pete’s words from inside the SUV while he threw open the door and helped Trisha out. She stumbled, so he put his arm around her middle, holding her when she doubled over and emptied her guts into the shrubbery.

It was hard to watch, but he knew she’d be better off getting the remnants of the toxic brew she’d been given out of her system as quickly as possible. This was one way. Humiliating, but expedient.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” she gasped between bouts of gagging and upchucking. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, Trish. Better out than in.” Steve tried to soothe her.

He knew from past experience with his own sisters that most women really hated to be embarrassed. Steve held Trisha’s hair back from her face for her and rubbed her back, trying to ease the tension that overtook her body every time she vomited the vile liquid that had very nearly poisoned her.

The chemical smell was even more overpowering now that it was out in the open, and Steve was glad whatever it was hadn’t had time to get completely absorbed into her system. She was wobbly enough with the little she had already digested. He hated to think what would result from the full dose.

Pete got out of the SUV and rummaged around in the back for a moment. Reappearing at Steve’s side, he held an open plastic bottle of wet wipes.

“Bebe had these in the back from our last picnic. They might help the lady,” Pete said by way of explanation.

“Thanks.” Steve took a wad of the wet wipes out of the bottle and nodded. “The other woman could probably use those too.”

Pete sent Jeremy ahead with the bottle of wipes while Steve saw to Trisa. She was trembling in his arms, but the bouts of vomiting were coming to an end. He spread out one of the wipes and pressed it to her forehead. She sighed and reached up, taking it from his hand with shaking fingers. She wiped her face and mouth while Steve pressed another clean wipe to her forehead.

“Are you feeling any better?” he crooned, hating to see her in such distress.

“Shoot me now,” she whispered and Steve had to chuckle at her response.

“Not gonna happen. You’re too pretty to shoot,” he teased.

She straightened from her bent-over posture and stood on shaky legs while Steve supported her. Her back was warm against his front and he marveled again at the nice way they fit together. It was rare he found a woman tall enough to fit him.

“Is my bag somewhere around here?” she asked, breaking into his dangerous thoughts. “There should be a bottle of water in it. I’d really like that, if you can find it.”

“It’s in the car. Can you walk or do you need my support?”

“I’m okay. I’d just really like the water.” He noted that she’d sidestepped his question, but he let it go. She was standing on her own for now. Walking would come.

Steve got the big bag out of the back of the SUV and brought it back to her. No way was he going to rummage around in her purse without her permission and direction. He knew from growing up with his sisters that women’s purses were sacred territory. Enter at your own peril.

“Unzip it,” she directed as he fumbled with the big, slouchy leather bag. He held the opened bag up for her inspection, glad when she reached in and pulled out a bottle of water on the first try.

She uncapped the thing with trembling fingers and then took a sip, swishing and turning slightly to spit out the water into the scrubby grass at the roadside. It was obvious she was still embarrassed, but she was dealing with it. He liked that. In fact, the more he was around her, the more he liked
her
.

The water seemed to revive her as she was able to clean out her mouth and even swallow a sip. It was like watching a wilted flower revive before his eyes. Whatever had been in those cocktails she’d consumed had been potent, but now that a large portion of it was out of her system, she was starting to sober up.

She kept her back to him, walking a short distance away from the spot where she’d lost her dinner toward the other girl up ahead who was doing the same. Steve came up alongside her, sensing her concern for her friend.

“Lynda looks a lot worse than I was,” she offered quietly.

Jed was supporting the other woman about twenty yards away as she continued to tremble. Even from this distance, the woman was surprisingly pale. Almost as if moonlight reflected off her skin. Trisha’s friend Lynda was a stunner, he’d seen that from the moment he’d assessed the small group. But Steve had liked Trisha’s earthier looks even better.

There was something about Trisha’s long, dark hair and tall frame that had tempted him from fifty paces. Up close, she was even more gorgeous, while her friend was more elfin. Short, wispy, ethereal. Pretty, but not Steve’s type. At least, not after he’d set eyes on Trisha.

“You’re looking a lot better,” Steve observed. “How are you feeling?”

She looked over at him and tried to smile. “Steadier all the time.” She paused to dribble a little water onto a clean wet wipe he’d offered her. She ran the soft, wet square over her hands and arms. “This has to rank right up there with the most humiliating moments in my life. I apologize for…well…all of this. We just wanted to have one wild night out. Drink a little. Dance a lot. Somehow it all got out of hand.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Steve assured her. “Your brother has stood guard while I puked a few times more than I should admit to.” He chuckled, remembering some of those early days in the service when he’d partied a little too hard.

“Oh, God. Deke. He’s going to have conniptions when he hears about this.” She took another wet wipe from Steve’s hand and held it to her face. Her words were muffled when she spoke again. “Do we have to tell him?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Trisha, you just said you and your friends intended to drink a little. Would you say you drank a lot more than you intended tonight? Or do you always down a row of shots all at once?”

The wipe came away from her face as she thought. Her expression was troubled. “I’ve never drunk that much in my life. I’d intended to have maybe one shot and a couple of mixed drinks over the course of the evening. That’s usually my limit, but something…I don’t really know what happened. The test tube things were so delicious.”

“Do you know what was in them? Who ordered them?”

“I have no idea. They were just suddenly there and everyone was drinking them. I figured one of the girls must’ve asked for them, but it’s kind of out of character for any of my friends to do that, now that I think about it.”

“Damn. That’s what I was afraid of.” Steve reached for his cell phone.

“Who are you calling? Not Deke. Not yet.” She looked a little upset with him, but Steve didn’t let it stop him.

“No. Not Deke. Trisha, there’s something going on here, and I have a buddy who specializes in finding stuff out. I’m calling him and his wife. She’s a…nurse, of sorts. I want them both to get a look at you and your friends. Tonight. Something bad happened here and I want to make sure you’re all really okay.”

In the moments it had taken him to speak, the call connected. Slade, the Clan’s newest addition, answered on the second ring. Steve skipped the pleasantries, knowing the most magical shifter he knew had already seen the caller I.D.

“Can you and your lady meet me at Pete’s Pack house? I’m bringing some civilians in with me who’ve been drugged. I don’t think it was anything normal.” Steve had to choose his words carefully in front of Trisha. He suspected something magical was happening here—and not the good kind of magic.