The Wolf Within (Purgatory #1)(59)

She couldn’t move.

Duncan was walking away. He knew how she felt, and he was just leaving her.

Because I’m his weakness? She wasn’t sure how to take that. She’d come there, so desperate and breaking every rule she’d ever known, in order to save him.

Now he’d told her to leave.

The door swung open. Brent stood there. “The guard took Duncan to general population.”

She was supposed to just leave him?

No, she couldn’t do that. She’d stay out of the fight. He could go play alpha, but when the bloodbath was over, he’d still need someone to get him out of that hellhole.

She’d sworn not to leave him behind, and she wouldn’t. No matter what.

Holly cleared her throat. “Go find my brother. Bring Pate to me.” The control was so easy to her now that it was frightening.

Brent nodded and hurriedly left.

She stared at the infirmary around her. She’d need some sort of weapon, just in case. Everyone in this place seemed to have fangs and claws, and her compulsions wouldn’t work on other vampires.

She jerked on a lab coat. If any other guards came by, she wanted to make sure that she blended well. She searched around a moment, and then Holly picked up a scalpel. Silver. She wondered why the doctors had silver scalpels in stock. Actually, now that she looked at the instruments, they were all made out of silver. Odd. Silver surgical instruments would just increase the pain for the werewolf patients.

Did someone want them all to hurt? The thought chilled her.

But hadn’t Duncan told her that the vampires were being starved? Pate had billed this place as being a humane place to hold the dangerous non-humans. She clutched the scalpel tightly. Just what was happening in Purgatory?

“I thought I smelled something sweet.”

The dark, low words had her stiffening. She shoved the scalpel into the pocket on the right side of her borrowed lab coat, then spun around.

She’d expected to see a guard. Because prisoners shouldn’t be wandering loose, right? Some *, horny guard who thought he’d make time with the new female doctor.

But…a man in a dark gold prison uniform stared back at her. He wasn’t alone. Two others, wearing the same matching prison uniforms, were behind him. The man in the middle was big, about six foot three, maybe four, with dark black hair that had grayed slightly near his sideburns. His face was hard, so rough, and his eyes— They looked just like Duncan’s.

The same glowing, bright blue that his gaze became when the beast ruled him. She could even see the shining flecks of gold in the center of this man’s eyes.

His eyes were like Duncan’s, but his face was an older version of Connor’s.

She’d been right. Duncan’s father hadn’t died all of those years ago.

Hadn’t died, but he sure might have killed.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, lifting her chin and trying to brave her way through whatever the hell was happening.

He inhaled. “Vampire.” He said the word the way some men might say…chocolate. Like he was about to savor a treat.

Her knees locked. Her fangs burned. “Get out.”

He smiled at her. “Vamp females always have a certain scent but you…you don’t just smell like a vamp.” He stalked toward her. His gaze raked over her. “There’s wolf all over you.”

There was about to be silver in him if that jerk didn’t back off. “Guards!” Holly yelled.

He laughed at her. “You don’t know how things work around here, do you?”

Duncan couldn’t be that far away. Had he heard her yell? She hadn’t really yelled for the guards. She’d yelled so her lover with his enhanced hearing could pick up her cry.

“Smells like you’ve been f*cking in here.”

Her face seemed to ice.

“Nothin’ like f*cking a female vamp…except of course…killing one.” Then he lunged toward her, with his claws up.

She brought up her scalpel and didn’t waste her breath on another yell.





Chapter Twelve


The werewolves were housed in the south section. The vampires were to the north. At least, that was the spiel that the guard had given him.

Where are you, Pate?

The heavy, silver doors slid shut behind Duncan, and he found himself in a big, cavernous room. Dozens of men walked around, but they all froze when they saw him.

Not men. Werewolves.

Every single one of those guys wore a glowing silver collar. Collars all just like his. Pate’s little invention had sure been shopped around.

So this was the general werewolf population. Only he wasn’t seeing Connor in that mix.

His gaze drifted up. The cells were on the second level. Silver cells to imprison them when it was time to lock up the monsters again. Guards walked along that second level, guns gripped tightly in their hands. No doubt, those guns were filled with silver bullets.

Growls reached him then. Snarls of fury. His gaze turned back to the werewolves. The group was closing in on him, and some of those faces were familiar.

I put some of them here. Shit.

“You,” snarled a werewolf on the right. Judd Orton. A werewolf who’d slaughtered five women on the coast. “I dreamed of slicing you open.”

Duncan shrugged. “Better me than the humans you attacked.”