Saving Margaret (14 page)

“It’s what makes us strong,” she whispered, her eyes still downcast to the floor.

“You know, my partner said you were a pretty thing. I was looking forward to enjoying you, but you are a filthy mess.” He grabbed at her right breast, kneading it, then slid his fingers to the nipple and twisted hard.

She gritted her teeth through the pain.
Asshole. Fucking asshole.
The tiniest bit of a whimper escaped, but nothing else. He scoffed and slapped her hard across the face. His hand might have well as been a brick. The sound of her cheekbone cracking nearly made her sick. The blinding fiery pain seconds later did. She retched, covering the damned Council agent’s shoes with vomit.

The second hit came moments later, followed by a volley of curses. The other side of her face cracked. The swelling was instant. Within a few seconds, both sides of her face were so swollen she couldn’t open either of her eyes.

A soft whir of air passed in front of her and then another. Two heavy thuds and then the sound of running feet.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her dry throat betrayed her and no sound came out. Then it hit her. The scent of the man from her bedroom window.
Now! After all this. Now he shows up, too?
She pulled at the cuffs and loosed a hoarse cry of pain.
I just want Scott.

“Hold on, Margaret. You know the pack is coming. We are going to make it through this. Scott is going to find us.”

The sound of a blade being pulled from a sheath made her freeze. She knew her body couldn’t take much more. She’d die. Supernatural or not, without her magick to heal her, the wounds she’d already sustained would kill her soon enough. More blood loss would only end it sooner.

“P-please,” she whispered.

The horrifying sound of a knife slicing through flesh made her sick again. She vomited and cried out. The movement of retching pulled on her wrists. More blood was flowing down her arms. Each beat of her heart pushed her closer to death.

But, he hadn’t cut her. He’d killed her captors. She listened with some semblance of semi-conscious satisfaction as their hearts slowed and then stopped beating.

“I’m getting you out of here, but I need your help.”

She laughed, but it turned to sobs. The chains clinked with her slight movements. “I’m dying. What could you p-possibly w-want from m-me.”

His hand grasped one ankle and a snap echoed through the warehouse as the shackle fell away from her bruised skin. It was followed quickly by another snap and then a rush of magick surged around her.

“Ahhhhh!” She screamed. Pain lanced through her burned and battered body. He un-cuffed her, slid an arm under her legs, lifted, and cradled her.

“I’m saving you, Margaret, but I need your help. Don’t let the pack kill me. I’m trusting you.”

What the fuck? He stalked her outside her own bedroom window. Found her in an abandoned warehouse before anyone else. Now he wanted her to stick up for him with her family…sure, why the hell not?

“He is saving our life.”

True.

Scott roared and fell to his knees. Pain and terror rushed through the newly reconnected mate bond. They’d nearly killed her, but she was fighting to hang on. Her life force through the connection was hanging on by a thread.

“She’s so weak.”

“I know, but her magick can heal her now. Whatever was blocking it has been removed. There,” Siobhan pointed to a big building south of the main power plant complex. “She’s there.”

Scott turned toward the building. It looked just like a dozen other warehouses they’d passed. But the bond was telling him the same thing. Keith and Chris were busy talking on their phones and he watched as the pack silently converged on the warehouse with the speed and skill of a highly trained platoon of soldiers.

He froze. The door on the front opened and a man stepped out carrying a bloody body.

“It’s Margaret,” Siobhan whispered, crouching next to him.

The smell of blood and burned flesh hung heavy in the hot desert air. His stomach recoiled. Her face was unrecognizable and the rest of her was slick with blood, but her scent was unmistakable.

He’d let this happen. It was his fault.

He stood and walked from behind the protection of the car. The man carrying Margaret paused. Scott watched him pan his gaze, noting exactly where pack members were crouched and waiting. When the stranger turned back, he began walking again —straight toward him.

“Scott,” Peter’s voice called from behind him.

He ignored the royal and kept walking, keeping his eyes on the stranger and on his mate. Her heartbeat was slow, but steady.

The stranger had short black hair, buzzed like a military man. His eyes were brown and hard. There was no emotion to read, but he carried her as a man would carry something precious. The small detail filled his heart with hope. Then the scent filtered across the parking lot.

The stalker.

The beast within him roared. This man had stalked Margaret. Invaded her personal space and now held her beaten and bloody body a mere dozen yards away.

“I wish no harm to her, O’Hearn. The two responsible for her damage lie dead inside the building.”

“Give her to me,” Scott growled.

The stranger took a step back, concern flashed through his dark eyes.

Scott’s eyes widened and he straightened his shoulders. Warmth from his magick rippled from his skin, settling just below the surface. He could shift in an instant if needed.

“Calm yourself. I will give her to you, but I wish to survive the exchange.”

“You stalked her. Why should I let you live to hunt her again?”

“Things have changed since the Council first gave me orders months ago.”

“You are an agent?” Scott took an aggressive step forward, but the other male held his ground.

“I was one of their best assassins. If I had wished Margaret’s death, she would never have awakened the morning after the wedding. Please hear me out.”

“Give her to me. Then I will listen.”

“No.”

Scott roared and took several more steps toward the unfamiliar wolf. “You will give me my mate!”

“Scott.” Her voice was barely louder than a whimper.

He moved forward quickly, but stopped a few feet from the assassin. “Margaret, I’m here.”

“If you want the pack to give you a chance. Give me to Scott. I will not forget you saved my life,” she paused. “Scott won’t either.”

He swallowed.
Saved her life? He owed this man a great debt if that were true.
His body trembled with the overwhelming need to touch her…to hold her. He met the wolf’s gaze and stepped closer.

The other man nodded and stepped forward. Scott held out his arms and cradled her carefully as the agent transferred her body. The magick of their bond surged through him and he allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

“Who are you?”

“Stefan Antipas. I volunteered to assassinate Peter Demakis. Though, I had no intention of following through and once the Council knew…they sent other agents.”

“Antipas is an old royal family. As old, or older, than the Demakis line,”
he bear whispered.
“His family is very powerful.”

“Why would you volunteer? The Council will kill you for defecting. Your own family will shun you.”

“Renata is my sister.”

Scott clenched his teeth.

“When I realized the agents had lost Peter to the Vegas Pack. I assumed Margaret would be the first target. I checked four safe houses in the city before I got to this one. Saving Margaret was my ticket into the pack’s good graces. I need your support…Peter’s support to save my sister.”

He turned to his right. Keith and Peter were standing only a few yards away. Most of the other pack members had closed the gap significantly as well. They were completely surrounded.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me,” Peter asked.

“You wouldn’t have let me take her…I can’t let the Council get Renata. She holds so many secrets. I have two generations of children that would be summarily executed if the Council found out. They are already suspicious. I was nearly too late to save one of my granddaughters in Houston.”

“Sarah?” Margaret asked, stirring in his arms. “You are talking about Sarah McLain, aren’t you?”

“Shhhh, love. Rest.”

“That’s why we all felt so comfortable around her. She’s a latent wolf.” He hugged her tighter when a sob slipped out. “They will kill her whole family. Bonnie is too, isn’t she?”

“How could you?” Peter stepped forward. “The entire community works together to keep the secrets from the humans and you go and have a child with one!”

Stefan snarled. “I loved her. The woman I should have mated died in my arms, by my hand through the Council’s orders. Cora saved me. I would have ended my life, but for her kindness. She was a stranger who talked me down from the end of a gun barrel.” He turned back to Scott. “Your mate has the heart of a warrior. Take good care of that little female.”

Scott huffed. Then nodded his head. Stefan had saved Margaret. That act alone secured his loyalty till death. “I am in your debt.”

“As are we all,” Keith spoke, stepping up to stand beside Scott and Peter. “You saved one of ours. Consider the Vegas Pack your new home, Stefan. You are with family now. We will help guard your children and theirs.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us yet.” Margaret’s father sighed. “You’ve just allied yourself with a rebellion.”

A smile spread across the assassin’s face. “A good fight is always a worthy cause.” He turned and stepped toward Peter. “But, we must get to Renata, now.”

“She’s secure in a safe house in Washington,” Peter answered quickly.

Stefan shook his head. “She’s been in contact with both Council agents here. I overheard their phone conversations. We have to hurry.”

The urgency in his voice unnerved him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. This wasn’t over yet.

“Not even close.”
His bear added.

***

Margaret groaned and stretched. Every muscle hurt, but at least she didn’t want to scream every time her skin touched something. The swelling felt like it had gone down almost completely in her face, too. She rolled to her side and cracked open one eye.

Scott smiled. He was laying shirtless right next to her, propped up on an elbow. Her eyes trailed down his smooth stomach and stopped at the waistline. A pair of dark wash jeans impeded her from enjoying a glance at his lower region.
Such a shame.

Her wolf chuckled in the back of her mind.
“Of course you wake up from an ordeal like what we just went through and the first thing on your mind is peeling your mate out of his clothes.”

“How are you feeling this morning, darl’n?”

His voice yanked her concentration away from her wolf.
“Like a tractor trailer rolled over me a few times and then someone decided to cook me with a flame thrower.” She paused. “How long was I out?”

“About thirty-six hours. Most of your injuries are healed.” He stopped. His eyes darkened. “Margaret, can you forgive me for losing you.”

She reached and brushed a curl from his forehead. “I’m just thankful we are both alive and together. This was no one’s fault. Do you understand? There’s nothing to forgive.”

He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her close. His clean piney scent was soothing. She worried it would take years to forget the smell of Alex and the other agent who'd stolen and tortured her, but if she could wake up every morning surround by Scott…she would be just fine.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Scott huffed into her hair.

“I told your father we would stay until you were healed. Now that you are awake, we need to pack. I’m taking you home.”

“What about the pack? My family needs me.”

“We are in charge of the Demakis sisters. They will be staying with us at the old inn on my property I told you about.”

"But..."

He stood and walked inside her closet. "What do you need...to...take." His words slowed.

She laughed. Her closet was not particularly clean. Her mom had always called it organized chaos.

"This is very..."

"Choose your words very carefully," she drawled out playfully.

"Full."

A snort escaped her mouth before she covered it with a pillow. "What do you wear at home?"

"Jeans and flannel shirts. It's comfortable and warm."

"So you fit the part of the mountain man perfectly minus the beard."

"I can grow one if you want."

"I'd rather you didn't," she giggled.

A few sweatshirts and some jeans came flying out of her closet and landed on the foot of the bed. "It's good to hear you laugh." His voice rumbled with unvoiced fear.

"I thought I'd lost you. When I realized the shackles were made of iron, I nearly gave up."

"When our bond was cut off. I felt like someone had ripped out my heart. If it hadn’t been for Siobhan, I don’t know how we would have found you.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Do you trust Stefan?"

"I owe him my trust, whether I want to give it or not." She paused, waiting for his response. None came. "He is a royal and they all have some sort of agenda."

"Most people do." A couple of t-shirts flew out and landed next to the jeans. "Where are your shoes? I only see one pair of heels."

The distraction from the serious conversation elicited another giggle. "They are all down in the foyer, by the front door."

He stuck his head out of the closet. "Really?"

A knock at the door drew her attention away from the beautiful man standing ankle deep in her closet. "Margaret?"

"Maggie, come in."

The door swung open and her best friend waltzed into her bedroom. She paused at the open closet door and laughed. "Don't let anything in there bite you."

"Whatever," he rumbled. "Your whole house looks like a maid service takes care of it, but the closet looks like a grenade went off a few years ago."

"She can't help it. It's her one rebellious trait. Well, that and the shoe thing at the door." She sat down on the bed next.

Margaret sat up and moved to sit next to her, holding the sheet around her chest to cover her nudity.
You think he could have at least put some pajamas on me.

“Where would he have found them?”