Freefall Read online

  “Damn it,” Bryan snarled. He punched in two more numbers and waited only seconds. “Zach, have you heard from Elliott? He’s not answering his cell.”

  Sara waited until he’d spoken to one more person before deciding their “date” was over, suspecting he’d be preoccupied for some time. The exhaustion she’d felt earlier had seeped back into her bones, and now all she wanted was a warm bed and –

  New, clean panties.

  Yes, panties would be nice. As Elliott hadn’t returned with any of her clothes, she decided she’d see what might be available upstairs. A quick glance told her Bryan probably wouldn’t even notice she’d gone, so she rose from the chair and headed for the door.

  He did notice. “Sara, wait,” he said, clamping onto her wrist. “I’ll meet you there,” he said into the phone. Then he clicked it off and tossed it onto the table.

  “I’m kind of tired, Bryan,” she said, trying to sound convincing. “I thought I’d head up to my room for the night. You need to find your guy, anyway.”

  Bryan nodded. In his eyes, she saw frustration warring with concern for his friend. “I’m sorry, Sara. It isn’t like him to just disappear like this.”

  “I understand. Go,” she urged. “I’ll be fine here.”

  He brushed her forehead with a quick kiss. “Choose any room that suits you. Mine, of course, would be a great choice.” He winked, squeezed her hand, and was gone.

  Sara let out a soft exhale, watching the side door swing shut. She understood Bryan’s concern for his friend. Truth be told, she was a tad concerned herself. Elliott didn’t seem like the kind of guy who just wandered off on his own, especially when he was expected back.

  And if he hadn’t called…

  Nope, she wouldn’t give it another thought. If she did, she’d drive herself nuts creating all kinds of warped scenarios. Nope, wouldn’t do it. Not tonight. Let Bryan handle it. Her job was to just hang out and do nothing.

  Which sounded kind of good, after what had happened earlier.

  Several minutes later, Sara had showered and changed into sweats (and clean panties!) and a T-shirt, thanks, once again, to Bryan’s sister. Unfortunately, she wasn’t ready to sleep, even if her body was more exhausted than usual.

  A nice cup of decaffeinated tea would help. In a house like this, she was certain they had whatever she needed and more.

  Padding down the stairs in bare feet, she fumbled in the dark for a light switch. Seemed the servants had shut off all the lights, presuming she’d gone to bed for the night. Not yet, she groused. Still too wired.

  She’d just found the switch and flicked it on when someone covered her mouth and nose with a very smelly rag. Something chemical had been poured into it and now she had no choice but to breathe it. Her eyes were closing without her permission and–

  Who let the wet dog into the house?

  * * *

  Something bumped against Sara, jolting her awake. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest and her head pounded to the same rhythm. Like it was ready to explode. Like it would explode if the damn thing behind her moved again. She needed a minute to gather her wits before she looked to see what it was. With the way this day had gone, it could easily be one of those nasty, furry, smelly animals she’d battled earlier this evening.

  Seconds later, she realized her hands had been bound behind her back, her ankles shackled with heavy metal cuffs. Her first thought was that Bryan had gotten carried away with some bondage fantasy, but looking around now, she wasn’t so sure. This didn’t look like Bryan’s house at all.

  And he was nowhere in sight.

  After a time (and after she’d summoned all the courage she could muster), she raised her head to see what was behind her.

  A man.

  Glossy black hair. Wide shoulders tapered down to a gorgeous, muscular ass. Long, thick legs clad in acid-washed black denim stretched out scant inches from her. Even at that distance, his body heat penetrated her own clothing.

  The blue denim shirt and black jeans sparked something in her mind, reminded her of someone.

  Wait a minute…

  Holy cow. “Elliott?” she asked tentatively. “Is that you?”

  “Mmmph,” he muttered.

  “Are you all right?” she asked quickly. “Do you know where we are?” A hundred questions flooded her mind simultaneously. The usual questions: who took us? Are they going to kill us? Have you always looked that sexy or am I losing my mind?

  Okay, maybe not the last question.

  She licked her lips. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. For days.

  “No,” he whispered.

  “No what? You’re not all right or you don’t know where we are?” She waited a moment for an answer.

  Didn’t get one.

  A moment later, she felt him turn over and draw in a sharp breath. “Sara? Where are we?”

  In spite of the situation, she smiled. Elliott had been asleep when he’d spoken to her. “I was hoping you’d know. I get the feeling we’re far away from Bryan’s mansion, though.” She faced him, forcing the fear and tension from mind and body. She would not give in to fear and doubt now. Not when she desperately needed her wits about her.

  He lifted his light-green gaze to hers. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I remember going downstairs for some tea. The second I turned on a light switch, someone grabbed me from behind and knocked me out with, I guess, chloroform. Or something equally smelly. And now, here I am.” Scanning the room, she took inventory. One bed, brass headboard, rather old looking. One dresser, vintage: the sixties–blond and plastic-y looking. The carpet on which they rested was brown and very old. Very gross. God only knew what they were really resting on. Ick.

  Sara refused to give that any more thought.

  “This night has pretty much sucked,” she admitted. Except for the part where Bryan made love to her with spearmint on his tongue. That part was good. Very good. “And, since we’re in chains, I’m guessing we’ve been kidnapped.” Not good.

  Elliott’s head snapped up at that. He was fully awake now, scanning the room. “I think you’re right.” He sat up. Thick chains secured his wrists and ankles, just like hers. He fingered the chain at his ankle, a scowl firmly planted on his face. “I am so not doing this.”

  The bedroom door opened. A tall, bald-headed man entered, followed by Bobby and the dark-haired man she’d peppered last night.

  The bald-headed one spoke. “My name is Bartell.” He pointed to Bobby. “This is Bobby, and this,” he held out a hand to the dark-headed man, “is Joely.”

  “Like we give a shit who you are. What do you want?” Elliott asked, his dark brows knitting together.

  “I see no reason for discourtesy, Mr. Hunter. We may have conflicting goals, but we can still be civil.”

  “We could,” Elliott said with a lethal smile, “if we were of a mind to do that. We’re not.”

  Bartell offered a haughty sniff. “Well, I’m not entirely certain you appreciate the dire nature of your circumstances, but I’ve no doubt you will. No doubt at all. You see, it’s time for Sara to come home to us. We’re here to monitor her transformation from human to…” He paused, smiling at Sara, who was regarding him as if he’d sprouted two heads. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

  “Um, no, I don’t. Nor do I care,” she said, keeping her gaze on his. She tried to sound brave, but truthfully, his words had frightened her. Transformation from human to…what exactly?

  If tonight was any indication, she’d be turning into one of those smelly animals.

  How the hell was that even possible?

  “Well, then we have much to tell you. I’ll have food brought to you in a few minutes. Bobby will tell you what you need to know. Oh, and I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay in those shackles. I know how uncomfortable they are.” He smiled, as if that would convince them he truly empathized with them.

  Not likely.

  “But I als
o know you’re a fighter, very much like your father, and will do whatever you must to escape.”

  “You knew him?” What the heck was happening here? How could someone like this Bartell know someone like her father? Made no sense.

  Bartell nodded. “I did. He was a good man. Taken from us too soon, of course, but such is life, I’m afraid.” His icy gaze swung to Elliott. “As for you, I must keep you here. It’s important for the pup to have nourishment as soon as the transformation is complete. When she’s re-born into our world, she’ll need to feed right away.”

  Elliott glared at her a moment, then returned his gaze to Bartell’s. “And I’m to be dinner? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  Bartell smiled, a shock of gleaming, white teeth. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Dire circumstances, indeed. Wouldn’t you agree now, Mr. Hunter?”

  Elliott remained silent, his fiery-green gaze nearly boring holes through Bartell, who did nothing more than shrug.

  “Someone has to die so someone else can live. Might as well be you, human. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Bartell pivoted and strode out the door, followed by his two flunkies, who’d done nothing more than leer at Sara as if she’d been something good to eat (which had new meaning now that Bartell had suggested she was being re-born as an animal).

  When they were alone, Elliott regained his feet and hobbled to the bedroom window. Brushing aside the dusty blue curtains, he peered out the window. “Looks like we’re on the waterfront, but I can’t tell exactly where. The windows are barred. Keyed entry.” He turned an icy gaze to her. “Is it true?”

  “What?” she asked, fairly certain she knew what he was asking.

  “You’re going to change into something that isn’t human.” He turned in such a way the moonlight danced over his face, washing nearly all the color from his eyes for only a second or two. An eerie effect, one that made her shiver.

  “No, it isn’t,” Sara said, refusing to believe such obvious nonsense. “Elliott, the man is nuts. He’s full of shit, just trying to freak you out.”

  “So, can you think of any reason why he would’ve chosen you for this little delusion?” he asked, returning to her side.

  “Absolutely not. I have no idea what he’s talking about. I’m no shape-shifting thing.” She still didn’t know what they were, but, by God, she wasn’t one of them. “There’s not going to be any transformation. Forget about it. Let’s just figure out how to get out of these chains and get out of here. The sooner I’m away from these psychos, the better I’ll feel.”

  “I agree,” he said, nodding, taking a moment to regard the shackles. “My tools are in the limo. I’m not sure there’s anything small enough to pick this lock.” He studied the small lock a moment, then let out a soft snort, and pushed both hands, shackles and all, through his jet-black hair. “No, I need my tools. And we need to find out how much time we have before this supposed transformation happens, and especially what, exactly, you’re going to become. And what happens if you don’t feed right away. If it’s not real, they’re going to be plenty pissed about it. If it is real, I need to know what to do to stay alive, and keep you alive.”

  The door opened again (apparently they didn’t understand the concept of knocking) and Bobby walked in, carrying a tray of what looked like fairly raw beef. Behind him came a very petite woman wearing short denim cutoffs and a tank top and no bra. She carried a tray of fruits, cheeses, and vegetables. Without a word, she set it down in front of Elliott.

  Bobby set the beef tray by Sara. “Eat,” he ordered. “You’ll need your strength.”

  “When is this supposed to happen, Bobby?” Sara asked, giving him her most innocent smile.

  Bobby’s cold brown gaze met hers. “Tomorrow night, at midnight. Eat, now. You need to build up your strength for the transformation.”

  Sara nodded, as if in complete agreement. She pulled the tray to her side and eyed it as if she might actually take a bite. Yuck. “Bobby,” she started softly. “What am I?”

  Bobby tilted his head, as if puzzled by her question. “You’re a Dog, Sara. Didn’t you know that? You have the mark, right?”

  Sara eyed him warily. “What mark?”

  “The mark of the Xylans. A tattoo of a dog inside a circle. A Xylan Dog. You got it, right? On your back?”

  Sara nodded, suddenly mute. She’d had that tattoo since forever. Couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t have it.

  She glanced at Elliott. With no more than a slight frown on his face, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. What bothered her more than a little was that he didn’t actually seem surprised. Annoyed, maybe, but not surprised.

  Bobby smiled and nodded. “Yeah, so, that makes you a Dog.”

  Sara’s jaw dropped. “A dog? What, a Cocker Spaniel? Chihuahua? Husky? What?”

  Bobby laughed. “No, none a’ them. Here, I’ll show you.” Bobby stepped away from the small woman.

  All pretense of humor faded from his face. Without another word, he shook himself, as a great, wet beast might do to rid itself of excess water. Instantly his form shimmered, shredding his clothes, until a huge, shuddering creature remained, Bobby’s clothes in a pile at its feet.

  That was no dog. That was a mutant wolf.

  “Holy shit,” Elliott said softly.

  When the beast finally stilled, Sara could only stare. The animal’s shoulders stood at nearly four feet. The fur was long, black, extraordinarily shiny, and at the end of all four feet, long clear claws stuck in the carpet fibers. Its spiked ears matched an equally spikey short tail, along with wickedly spikey teeth.

  “Holy shit,” Sara echoed. Was this what had attacked earlier?

  The animal shook itself again and Bobby returned to his human form, albeit minus some much needed clothes. Ick. Naked Bobby was not a pretty sight.

  “We’re the Dogs of Xyla, Sara. We been around a long time. Since the Sons of Sirius,” he said, picking up and, thankfully, donning his trousers. “We lived in peace for hundreds of years, invisible to mankind, but then some of us got bored and started to look for a higher purpose. They didn’t care for our place in the world, so a new faction was born–the Xantu Guardians. They gained Apollo’s favor and now they watch over his Temple of Light.”

  Sara’s innate curiosity got the better of her. Who wouldn’t want to know? “What’s that?” It didn’t hurt to know that Elliott was equally as curious (a quick glance told her that much). His gaze was riveted to Bobby, just like Sara’s. Having gotten that much information, maybe these dogs weren’t as much of a threat as she’d previously thought.

  Bobby shook his head. “It’s where Apollo sleeps. If you make it through the transformation, then I’ll show you. Well,” he amended. “If Bartell says it’s okay.”

  That definitely had her attention. “Excuse me? What about the transformation?”

  Bobby’s cheeks colored. “Oh… we need to be getting on, me and the missus.”

  Sara took another look at the petite redhead. That was his wife? The woman seemed more like a homeless waif than someone’s wife. Her jeans were in tatters and the T-shirt she sported had holes in it. Everywhere.

  Bobby started for the door. “I’ll be back in the morning with more food. In the meantime, eat and rest. You’ll need your strength. I hope you make it, Sara.” With that, he left, his little wife hot on his heels.

  Her appetite vanished along with Bobby, and now the bloody, lukewarm meat not only didn’t appeal to her, it thoroughly disgusted her. She pushed it aside. Strength be damned. She was not eating barely cooked cow. As it was, she ate very little meat. Steamed vegetables, very few carbs, and fruit was her staple, which, in her mind, meant she’d make a very pathetic dog. She made a mental note to mention that when Bobby came back the next morning. Perhaps they had the means to reverse all this transformation nonsense.

  Sara snorted. Even she didn’t think it likely. She eyed Elliott’s platter of infinitely more palatable fare. “You going to eat that? I’m s
tarved.”

  “No,” he said, scowling. He slid the tray in her direction.

  “Great,” Sara said, catching the tray before the veggies spilled everywhere. “Okay, so we know we have another day. That should give us plenty of time to get out of this place.”

  Elliott glanced at the door. “I agree, but I’ve no intention of waiting longer than I have to. We’re out of here tonight. I suggest you catch a few winks after you eat so you’re alert. I intend to go out that way.” Elliott jabbed a thumb at the door. “In two hours.”

  “Are you nuts? Don’t you think they probably have a guy posted there? Probably one of those dogs, in fact. One of those really strong dogs, I might add.” She eyed the platters of food and decided, after Elliott’s outlandish idea, she wasn’t all that hungry after all. She pushed the plate away.

  “You should eat something. You need your strength,” Elliott said, pushing the plate toward her.

  “I’m not hungry,” she said, frowning at the plate.

  “Sara,” he said gently. “If I have my way, we’re going to be out of here very soon. I’ll need you to be strong.” He picked up a single broccoli floret and brought it to her lips. “Eat. Please.”

  Her gaze dropped to his hand. He held the floret between his thumb and index finger and was patiently waiting for her to take it. Just looking at him made her stomach do a funny little flip-flop. He’d leaned closer to her and now that wonderful scent of jasmine and spice surrounded her.

  Damn, she liked that fragrance. Wild. Exotic. It fit the man perfectly.

  He shifted after a moment, stretching himself out beside her. The cords of muscle in his arms rippled beneath golden skin. Every inch of him was beautiful, hard male, from the powerful shoulders down to the thick, strong legs. Glossy black hair shadowed his gracefully arched brows. He had a youthful face, but those glittering mint-green eyes suggested he’d seen many things. Ancient eyes.

  His lips were parted. As if to purposely entice her, his tongue slipped out to wash his full, lower lip.

  Sara held her breath.

  The man was sinfully seductive without doing anything more than holding a small vegetable to her mouth.