Beauty Dates the Beast(18)

Wait. Huh? “Weapons?” I interrupted. “What are you guys doing?”

Beau said, “We’re setting up a sting. If that thing returns to this house, it won’t live for long.”

Well, shit. I did not need a bunch of cat shifters crawling around in the house. I needed them all to leave now, before they scented Sara. I cast an angry look at Beau. “You can’t do that. I don’t want weapons in my house. In fact, I don’t want a bunch of strangers in my house.”

Beau pulled me toward the far corner of the living room. The others averted their eyes, talking in low whispers.

“Let me take care of this, Bathsheba,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to allow some creature to stalk you, break into your house, and threaten your life. You are going to be safe. I’ve marked you with my claim, and you are going to accept that I’m looking out for you.” His words were low and even.

I opened my mouth to protest.

“The others won’t touch you. They’ll give you more respect than a normal human would get because I’ve claimed you.” When I started to protest again, he continued, “You are mine. I’ve already decided it. And if I have to mark you all over that delicious body of yours to prove it, I will.”

A blast of desire raced through me at that mental image and I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to fan myself.

The crooked smile curved his mouth again and he ran his thumb over my lower lip as if to remind me of his kisses. Then he walked toward his men. “We need to set up a defense. Bring the silver and the wolfsbane, and be careful with it. I want you to start upstairs.”

They left me there in the living room, stunned, my lips still feeling the electric heat from his touch. I wandered back to the kitchen, peeking in. The pantry door was wide open and there was no Sara anywhere. That was a good sign. Maybe she’d changed back and gone to the back bathroom to disguise her scent.

A hand touched my elbow.

I jerked away, stumbling back a few steps in fright.

A big, blond man stood there with a grave look on his face. He was enormous—at least a foot taller than Beau and broader. His hair was shaggy, his features large. One hand held a toolbox, and the other colossal mitt held up a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

I stared up at the giant in alarm. “Who … who are you?”

Irritation crossed the hard features, as if he was annoyed that he had to answer me. “Ramsey.”

“Okay.” Beau had mentioned Ramsey a few times. His best friend and fellow Alliance member. “No, thank you. I’m not thirsty.”

He reached out, grabbed my hand, and forced the water bottle into it. “Drink.”

Not exactly the most friendly man. I glared at him.

He glared back.

I drank.

Next, he handed me a silver bubble pack of pills. “Take these.”

I pushed them away. “I’m fine.”

Ignoring my protests, he nudged the pills at me again.

I took the pills from him and scowled when he continued to watch me, waiting for me to swallow them. “Your Mr. Russell is a bit high-handed.”

Ramsey grunted. Obviously not a man of many words.

I eyed the pills—clearly something to relax my nerves. God knows I could use it. Sara and I needed to get out of Fort Worth. Away from the shifters, away from everyone. We could pack the necessities tonight and be out of the city by morning, but not with all these shifters hanging around my house, trying to be helpful.

“Take. The. Pills.” Ramsey loomed over me, his face hard and unsmiling. His arms crossed over his chest, and he stared pointedly at me.

I returned his glare. “I’m going to complain to your boss that you’re trying to drug me.”

Ramsey’s hard eyes glittered down into mine. “Who do you think told me to give them to you?”

Oh. Well, then. This was what I got for pretending to have a nervous breakdown to distract Beau. I could pack while medicated, I supposed. Even if I didn’t want to take the pills, I had no doubt that Ramsey would force me to take them, one way or another. Ignoring the hulking giant that hovered over me, I reluctantly swigged the pills down with water.

They tasted terrible, leaving a coating in my mouth. “Does everyone always do what Beau wants?” I asked, gesturing at the men who crawled all over my house. I could still hear Beau barking orders upstairs.

“Yes,” said Ramsey.

I snorted and began to clean up the glass from the two broken windows. I needed to check on my sister, but not with this overgrown behemoth looming over my shoulder. But soon I grew sleepy, sluggish. Things started to feel disconnected, and my head felt like it was spinning.

Beau suddenly appeared at my side and angled my face up, studying my expression. “How is she?”

I wanted to protest that he could ask me directly, but there was a fog settling on my brain. Ramsey showed up out of the corner of my eye, Sara standing behind him, her clothes changed and her hair wet—a quick shower?

“She took the pills,” Ramsey said in that low, gruff voice. “I’d give it a few hours.”

“For what?” I asked, finding it difficult to keep my eyes open.

“More than enough time,” Beau said, and then I was lifted into the air. The world spun dizzily, the thick scent of Beau was everywhere, and I realized I was cradled against his naked chest. He was so warm and delicious that I snuggled in and sighed with bliss. I could go to sleep right here. “Time enough for what?”

He pressed his lips to my forehead, and the world bobbed a little as he began to walk. “Time to get you home, Bathsheba. To my place.”

“We can’t,” I protested, trying to focus my eyes on my sister. Sara’s face was ashen with stress, her arms crossed over her chest. “We’re leaving.”

“Yes, we are,” Beau agreed.

We were talking about two different things—but I could no longer stay awake. My eyes sealed shut as I burrowed deeper in Beau’s arms and let the heavy sleep take over me.





Chapter Eight





When I woke up, the foul taste in my mouth had blossomed into a whole new kind of foul, and my head throbbed. I sat up, realizing that I was on someone’s couch. That explained the crick in my neck and the drool tracks down the side of my face. I wiped them away and frowned at my surroundings.



It looked like I was in some sort of rustic lodge. The couch was an ugly country plaid, and the walls were some sort of log planks.

The room itself was huge, the windows large, filling the room with sunlight. A braided rug decorated the floor, and I caught a glimpse of a spacious kitchen across the living room. This wasn’t just a log cabin—this was a log cabin on steroids.

Beau’s house? I vaguely remembered him saying he would take me home.

But where was Sara? Where was my sister?

The world came rushing back and I bolted through the rooms, looking for her. She was nowhere to be found. I opened a dozen doors, but I was the only one in the house. It hit me like a ton of bricks then.

I’d been drugged. That bastard Ramsey had given me something to knock me out. Stupid fool that I was, I’d thought it was something to make me relax. Nope. It was something to make me unconscious.

I ran my hands down my dress. My panty hose were intact and my hair was still a disgusting mess. I felt a little better.

Beau. “Time to get you home, Bathsheba. To my place.” Alarm returned as full memory did.

A monster had been in my house. Sara had panicked and changed, and a bunch of were-cougars had arrived to save the day. I put a hand to my forehead. Where was Beau? Why had I been left here alone?

Fear set in. Had he gone to exchange my sister with the wolves? Is that why I was here by myself? Worried, I went back through the house again, this time thoroughly searching each room.

The ceilings were arched and spacious, and there was a second floor with a master bedroom. A massive bed dominated the room, a fact not lost on me. There was also a jet tub in the bathroom, a lovely deck surrounding the house, and miles and miles of trees.

I stared at the gorgeous scenery in dismay. We were obviously no longer in Fort Worth. East Texas? Oklahoma? And where the heck was the driveway? I circled the deck twice to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, but there was no driveway leading from the cabin; just more woods and a footpath.

So how on earth was I supposed to escape? Being a city girl, I didn’t trust myself alone in the woods. I didn’t even know which direction to run to. I scanned the skies, where a wall of gray clouds brought a chill, icy breeze with them.

Still frowning, I went back inside. There was a TV in the big den and a library of DVDs nestled on a nearby shelf. The movie shelf was full of current releases, and the bookshelves were lined with both classic and popular books. Tolstoy sat next to Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Dan Brown. Most of the books were action-adventure, with the occasional classic tossed in. I pulled out a pristine copy of The Great Gatsby and then put it back when I noticed a well-worn paperback next to it—An American Werewolf in London.