Charming the Beast (Purgatory #3)(36)
Author: Cynthia Eden

She stared up at him. “A…a nightmare?” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Right, a nightmare.”

The unease he felt got worse. “Tell me about it?”

“I-I don’t remember it.” She pulled her hand from his. Grabbed the covers.

Connor didn’t move. First, Chloe had dreamed of fire. Now, she dreamed of something else…something beautiful. “Where were you?” Connor asked, unable to hold the question back.

At first, he didn’t think Chloe would answer him. He didn’t want her to lie to him. Not again. Connor never wanted any more lies between them. He wanted Chloe to be able to tell him anything.

“I don’t know,” Chloe finally said. “But it didn’t hurt there. And I wasn’t afraid.”

He was afraid.

“No fire, no screams. It was peaceful.”

“And you wanted to stay.”

Her head turned on the pillow. She stared at him. “I thought I did.” She bit her lip. “But then I remembered you. I wanted you more than I wanted to stay.”

His chest burned.

“Will you…will you hold me for a little while?”

He climbed into that narrow bed with her. Positioned their bodies so that she was on top of him. The chill finally left Connor when her arms wrapped around him.

“Connor, what’s the one thing you want most in life?”

He didn’t know. His arms tightened around her.

Maybe I’ve found what I want.

“I don’t want you to think I’m your jailer,” he said, his voice rumbling.

“I don’t think that, not anymore.”

Silence.

He had to ask, “What do you want most?”

“To be free. To not be afraid of anyone or anything.”

Then I’ll find a way to make that happen for you.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and as the sun began to rise, he held her.

***

The Para Base had been quiet all night. But at dawn, an armored van left the facility. Keegan was watching closely, and the sight of that van immediately caught his attention.

“Well, well,” he murmured. “Just who do we have running…?”

He left a team watching the base, men who were all staying back a safe distance, and he followed that van with a core group of his pack. When the van was far enough away from the base…he attacked.

He leapt onto the hood and drove his hand right through the front windshield. He grabbed the driver and yanked him out through the broken glass. He tossed that bleeding bastard across the street. The passenger was firing, but the idiot was shooting silver.

Doesn’t work on me.

He drove his fist at that guy, too, shattering more glass. Soon the second man stopped firing.

Other members of his pack had closed in. They pried open the back door of that vehicle. More guards were waiting inside, and their silver did work on two of the werewolves who were in front of Keegan. When they fell, he just walked over their bodies.

He knocked out the guards. Easy enough.

Then he saw the prisoner who was inside that vehicle. A man who was chained up. Smiling at him.

David Vincent. His former pack leader.

David said, “Hurry, hurry! Get me out of here!”

His claws tapped against the side of the door. Did the fool really think he could still give orders? “You’re not alpha anymore. You’re not even a werewolf.” He was a waste of space.

But then, Keegan hadn’t attacked the van in order to save any prisoners. He’d attacked because he had a plan. I take the van, then I can use it to just drive right into the Para Base. The fools there would just think their own men were returning in the vehicle.

He’d get in the base, easy as pie.

He’d have to repair the windshield, of course, but with his resources, that wouldn’t be hard. Then…then he’d just slip right inside the base.

Too simple. So perfect.

He stalked toward David.

And the guy finally got a damn clue. Because David’s eyes widened in horror and he pressed back against the side of that armored van. “No, no, you don’t understand! You don’t—”

The rat-a-tat of gunfire cut through the night. Keegan spun around just as bullets blasted into him. Not silver bullets, but tranq darts.

“Learned that one from you,” a mocking voice called out. “And by the way, dumbass, you’re kind of easy to predict.”

A tall male with green eyes appeared at the back of the armored van.

Keegan’s knees gave out beneath him, and he sank onto the floor of the van. “Lock him in,” the man ordered.

David Vincent started laughing. That mocking sound grated in Keegan’s ears.

Armed men jumped in the back of the vehicle. They locked restraints around his wrists and ankles.

“The rest are werewolves,” Keegan heard the man—the leader—shout. He recognized the bastard as Eric Pate. “Put them in silver collars and we’ll transport them all back to base.”

Then Eric jumped into the armored van. He closed in on Keegan, and the guy kicked him in the side.

“Hey,” Eric snapped. “Don’t go out on me, not yet.”

It was hard to keep his eyes open.

“Really, you’d think you were the only one who knew how to cloak a scent. Hell, I’m the one who invented that shit. Someone just stole my product and gave it to you.” Eric kicked him again.

Keegan howled in pain.

“That’s for biting my agent. I don’t take kindly to people attacking my team.” Eric bent down toward him. His voice dropped to a low, lethal whisper. “And I really get pissed off when some jerk kills a woman on my watch.” Eric locked his fingers around Keegan’s neck. “So I’m thinking…maybe it’ll be your time to die soon.”

Keegan tried to reply, but his tongue had gone thick in his mouth. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. All he could do was listen to the grating sound of David Vincent’s laughter.

That prick is the first to die when I’m free.

Doors slammed shut a few minutes later. The vehicle lurched forward.

The drugs that had been pumped into him made Keegan a prisoner in his own body. He wanted to move, but he couldn’t. He wanted to fight, but his claws weren’t even coming out.

“So much for being an alpha, huh, ass**le?” David Vincent taunted. “You didn’t even see the trap coming for you. And now, it’s too late.”

Is it?

He couldn’t move, but Keegan could plan.

Chapter Eleven