Let the Wild Out (10 page)

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Authors: Madelyn Porter

BOOK: Let the Wild Out
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Rachel nodded. “You drive. I’ll ride in the back with
Douglas and make sure he doesn’t move around too much.” She began to dress.
“Give me your shirt for his head and try to drive easy.”

Chapter
Six
 

Rachel flexed her arm, trying to get the blood flowing to
her tingling hand. She had no idea where they were going or how long it would
take. Douglas’s head rested across her arm, but she refused to move it. The
truck bounced along the road. Her arm and William’s thin shirt were the only
things padding Douglas’s skull from the hard metal bed beneath them.

“You’re going to be fine,” Rachel whispered in his ear. She
brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. The gesture was pointless as the wind
only blew it back. “I can see the cuts on your face already starting to heal.
It won’t be long now.”

He didn’t answer. She knew her words were pointlessly
spoken, only meant to comfort herself in her worry. His body might heal itself,
but the brain would not. If he suffered from brain damage, he might not recover
or even wake up. Shifter powers could only do so much.

“Thank you for shielding me from the wreck,” she continued,
again brushing back the hair only to have the wind push it across his forehead
once more. “I—” The truck slowed, and they slid a little towards the front of
the truck bed. She grunted in discomfort. “I promise I’ll stay with you until
you’re awake and able to take care of yourself. I’ll take care of you as you
took care of me. St. Joan won’t get her paws on you.”

Rachel wasn’t sure what prompted the oath, but she didn’t
want to take it back. The truck continued to slow its progression. Unable to
see, she finally pulled her arm out from under Douglas’s head and sat up. William
pulled into a long cobblestone drive in front of an English country estate.
When he said they were going to hide out, she didn’t expect it would be in some
sort of nineteenth century nobleman’s mansion.

A nervous knot formed in her stomach. The yard looked lush
and green, trimmed perfectly, as if the gardener stood outside all day with a
ruler just to make sure. Small stone trails sprouted off the cobblestone drive,
winding around the home before breaking off in several directions into a garden
before ultimately disappearing into an area encased by stone walls.

The house itself spread wide across the landscape and looked
as if it could hold fifty of her aunt’s cabins. She wondered how many people
lived inside the towering walls. A wide, oak door opened, and a couple servants
stepped out followed by the woman Rachel had seen at the airport. She didn’t
look happy. Remembering that the woman had given William a list of prospective
brides, Rachel frowned. By the look on Douglas’s face as William had mentioned
it in the car, she knew her name wasn’t on the list. Why should it be? Didn’t
royalty have to marry aristocrats, or power animals? Yes, she was powerful, but
her two lovers were the only ones with any idea as to her abilities.

The servants moved cautiously down the round sweep of steps
leading from the front door. William pulled to a stop, and the two women
visibly relaxed as they saw who was driving the beat-up vehicle. The older woman
moved forward in front of the others, but didn’t deign to move closer. Her lips
pursed tightly together.

“Magda,” William said. “The Duncanis chief is injured. We
must get him inside. Fetch help.”

The older woman, whose name was evidently Magda, disappeared
inside to do as her chief commanded. The maids approached the back of the
truck, straining to see inside where Douglas was. Then, their curiosity
somewhat sated, they turned harder gazes to Rachel. She narrowed her eyes at
them, too sore and tired to deal with whatever was going on in their heads. As
a big brute of a man passed between them, the maids backed away, scurrying up
the steps.

“Douglas,” Rachel whispered, trying to get him to wake up.
For a moment, she thought she heard him groan, but any future sound was muffled
by the clang of the opening truck bed. William appeared next to the brute and
they both reached in to pull Douglas into their arms so they could carry him
inside.

“Duncanis,” Magda muttered in contempt, as if the single
word conveyed all the weakness and unworthiness of Douglas’s unconscious form.

“He saved my life,” Rachel snapped, not liking the woman’s
tone.

Magda’s sharp eyes turned to Rachel, sweeping up and down.
The woman evidently didn’t think much of Douglas’s heroic deed. Apparently,
Rachel wasn’t worth saving.

“This way,” Magda ordered, turning her back on Rachel. “I’ll
take you around to the servants’ entrance and show you were you can wash that
wildness off of you.”

“Rachel,” William called as they hauled Douglas inside, “this
way.”

Rachel, unable to help herself, gave Magda a superior look.
She went towards the front door. “Coming!”

 
* * *

“I don’t think Magda approves of me,” Rachel said to
William, as she studied Douglas on the bed. The servants had removed his shirt,
and she’d been shocked to see the massive purpling over the man’s chest. A
bandage wrapped his ribs, a stark white to his tanned flesh. Their kind
normally could heal from such rib wounds, but that didn’t mean he was out of
the woods yet, nor did it mean he wasn’t in pain.

“She’s just set in her ways and likes things the way she
likes them.” William dismissed the concern. “She has a lot to contend with and
is worried about us being here and possibly in harm’s way. The plan was to hide
out until it could be discovered who was after us. Though secure, if someone at
court wants to do us harm, this mansion isn’t the safest place. Too many people
are coming and going.”

“Worried about
you
maybe,” Rachel said. William didn’t answer.

“We should go get something to eat. There is not much we can
do for Douglas but let him rest. I will have someone come and check on him.”

Rachel made a move to crawl onto the bed. “You go ahead. I’m
sure you have business to attend to. I’ll stay here with Douglas.” Without
thinking about it, she stretched out on the mattress.

William hesitated, as if he would protest. Then, slowly he
nodded. He gestured to a velvet rope hanging near the wall. “Ring if you need
anything. I’ll be back later to check on you both.” He hesitated again before
finally leaving.

Rachel curled next to Douglas, running her hand lightly over
his chest. “Hey, you need to wake up. I’m not sure we’re safe here. I didn’t
like how some of the people were looking at us. William doesn’t want to hear it
because this is a Cononious mansion, but there was something not right with
that Magda woman.” She gently pulled on a bandage, lifting it to peek under.
His ribs were still bruised. “Douglas?”

“Uh,” he groaned, turning his head back and forth on the
pillow before finally settling his gaze on her.

She sighed with relief. “You’re awake.”

“You smell pretty,” he murmured.

Rachel laughed. “I think you might have hit your head. How
are you feeling?”

“Like I was in a car wreck.”

“That would be a fitting conclusion. You’ve been out a long
time.” She rested her hand low on his stomach, propping herself on her elbow to
study his face. “We’re at the Cononious mansion. William just left.”

“I recognize the room.”

Rachel quickly told him everything that had happened,
leaving out the part where she and William had sex against the side of the
trunk in an explosion of after-battle release. If he asked her, she wouldn’t
lie, but she saw no reason to bring it up.

“You’re an omni-shifter?” He arched a brow. Other than that,
he didn’t make any quick movements.

Rachel nodded. “Yes.”

“How many?”

There was no point in lying about it now.

“Falcon, wolf, shark. Wolf is the strongest and most natural
for me. I can’t seem to hold on to the falcon form too long, and I don’t really
have call to use the shark. The few times I have, I tend to get mindlessly lost
in the ocean. By the time I’ve adjusted enough to shift back, I have no idea
where I’m at.” Rachel tried to act as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m too scared
I will get lost at sea. There’s something about the ocean that calls you out of
your head.”

“Air, land, and sea,” Douglas said. His hand skimmed over
the top of hers, holding it to his lower stomach. Covers lay across his waist,
hiding his hips from view. “I don’t think you know how rare a gift the
omni-shift is. In my father’s time, he had scientists working to discover why
certain people were omni-shifters, or wolves, or birds, or even fish. They were
trying to unlock the genetic key.”

“Elvie told me stories of such experiments,” Rachel
answered. Her stomach tensed, but for some reason she sensed she could trust
him, just as she could trust William. “She said if anyone found out about me,
they might take me away and do experiments on me. That is why I tell people I am
a trout. It’s safer and easier that way.”

“No one would dare to harm you, but would merely honor you
for your gifts. I stopped the experiments years ago.”

She frowned. It wasn’t a denial that such things had
happened in the past.

“But we will keep your secret,” he said. “If that is what
you wish.”

The feel of silken covers brushed her finger, and she
realized he’d inched her hand lower on his stomach. She glanced down his body, seeing
the unmistakable lift of an erection beneath the cream-colored silk. “Are you
feeling better?”

“Somewhat.” His breathing deepened. “I can think of
something that would make me feel even better.”

“That has to be the worst pick-up line in history.” She let
him slide her hand lower and her fingers became tangled in silk.

“But it’s working, isn’t it?” He gave a small laugh. “Please
say it is working.”

“You could have tried a little harder, but considering you
took a window to the back for me, I guess I can overlook it.”

“Then my plan worked.” He laughed harder, bringing her
fingers to rest over his arousal. His bold confidence excited her. “You’re in
my debt.”

He made an effort to sit up, but she removed her hand from
his cock and pressed his shoulder to keep him down. “You should take it easy.
Some of your ribs might be broken. I almost demanded they take you to an
emergency room, but—”

He shook his head in denial. “I’m hardly a frail human.
There is a Cononious doctor in the mansion should the need ever arise. If
memory serves, he’ll be dead drunk in a bedroom in the east wing. We have
little need of his services and he enjoys a life at court.”

“I clearly went into the wrong profession,” Rachel said, giving
a meaningful look around their lush surroundings. “I could have been living it
up as a posh doctor to patients who never needed me.”

“Wouldn’t it be much better to be treated like a queen than
a servant?” Douglas brushed back her hair.

Rachel chuckled. Being treated like a queen didn’t sound so
bad. “Well, my chief, why don’t you relax? Let me play doctor and see how I
like it.”

“You’re hired. Come away with me to my court at once.”

“I haven’t even started my audition yet.”

She moved to kneel beside him, leaning over his stomach. She
ran her hands over his body, careful not to touch his wounded ribs as she
massaged his hips and thighs through the silk. Taking her time, she rubbed his
legs, letting the silk make an agonizingly slow trip down his body, unveiling
tight hips and firm flesh like a curtain lifting over a grand stage. She
scratched nails lightly over his exposed length.

She kissed a trail down his magnificent form, starting at
the edge of his bandage and moving across the sensitive flesh of his hip. She
nipped him with her teeth and his body contracted. He began to sit up and she
paused until he settled back down.

The tips of his fingers brushed against her cheek, tangling
in the locks of her hair. She wanted him. She felt it as surely as she felt
anything. But then she also wanted William. Confusion filled her. She’d tried
for so long to be like the full-blooded humans, but she was not human, not
completely. Humanity and the beast warred within her, they always warred, but
here she was free to let a little of the beast roam free—or in her case beasts.
She felt more than heard the shifters around her, filling up the large estate.
It was a wild energy that pulsed through the walls, as uncontainable as the
beasts that caused it.

Douglas encouraged her mouth to move downward, and her conflicted
thoughts were momentarily lost in the taste of his skin. He smelled clean, a
tinge of soap and natural musk. She moved silk over his legs, inch by inch,
kissing the exposed thigh, then knee, then calf, before lifting it away from
his flesh. His feet stirred as she made her way back up. She didn’t close her
eyes, instead watching the erotic shifts of muscles beneath her.

Taking his balls, she rolled them in her palm. Her lips
brushed over the tip of his shaft, teasing it with tiny licks. He moaned,
before tensing and holding his breath. She worked her mouth over him, taking in
his thick length.

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