When Sherri’s favorite aunt passed away at the age of seventy-two, she’d insisted on the service being a celebration. “No mourning for me,” Ingrid Walker proclaimed. Sparkling cider had been served, and balloons had been handed out. Aunt Ingrid, a retired school teacher, had requested that “Mr. Stringbean” and other songs for children be played. Many had left the service smiling, but many more had left disorientated. That was different, they’d mumbled in their confusion.
Such was Sherri’s experience preparing to walk into a fake werewolf wedding ceremony. Or whatever it was she was about to do. Reality had taken a vacation along with the actual vacation she was supposed to be taking.
She paused on the verge of entering a large, open room with its one oblong table pushed to the side. A handful of men, or what looked like men, stood around the perimeter. A couple held guns that she could see. A few wolves sat at attention in the center of the space. Most had dark gray fur, some reddish, some brown. The sight made her vision go double.
Ash squeezed her hand, she assumed again to provide assurance. Again, she took it with a hairy grain of salt. They were literally surrounded by a pack of wolves. She tried to think of what might get them out of this. Tear gas? Napalm? A truckload of quality T-bones?
Sherri grabbed at a younger-looking woman standing near the door. “Bathroom. I cannot do this without going to the bathroom.”
The woman’s eyes darted back and forth, accompanied with a nervous lip-chew. “I’ll have to go with you.”
“Fine. Whatever. I have to go.” She did the dance again for illustration, avoiding Ash’s look of concern.
“Quickly.” The woman tugged Sherri into a small room off to the side. She did indeed accompany Sherri inside, but turned her back for the proceedings.
“Hey,” Sherri said as she went to wash her hands, “I remember you. You took the girl who was brought in with me to get her cleaned up. Is she okay?”
“I stitched her cheek. Put salve on her bruises. She’s fine.” The woman put one hand to her lower back and the other to her forehead, rubbing as if anxious.
“I’m sure she’s grateful.” This lady had conflict about something. Maybe Sherri could use that, get her to open up. “Do uh, you know where they’re taking us? What’s going to happen?”
“Not really.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you all done over there? Either you are, or you got OCD to be scrubbing your hands so long.”
“I think you do know.” Sherri took a chance and edged closer. “You seem awfully unhappy about something. I wonder if maybe you know what they’re doing, and you know it’s not right. I mean we’re both women here, huh? Think about if you were the one in this situation. How would you feel?”
The woman rested her head against the door but didn’t answer.
Sherri touched one hand to the woman’s arm. “My name’s Sherri by the way. You know, I was taking some time off to recharge before starting a new job when that Jojo guy grabbed me. All I wanted to do that night was to go back to my hotel room, get some Advil for my headache, and get some sleep. I’d kind of like my life back, you know? I’d bet that other young woman wants the same thing.”
All at once, the other woman’s eyes flashed. With a jerk of her arm, she pulled away and grabbed the knob on the bathroom door. “Jojo is my mate.”
Oh. Shit. Well, talk about a miscalculation. “I’m sure he’s a wonderful mate, I’m only saying—”
“It’s time to go.”
Right. Probably best to shut the hell up at that point, especially since the door opened to the sight of Jojo pointing at Ash with a revolver. Jojo’s face displayed a swollen nose and a maniacal grin. Ash looked like he might try to go for the throat again.
Jojo smacked his lips at the sight of both of them emerging from the bathroom. “Well, well. You ladies do some nice female bonding in there? Don’t get too cozy. We have us a trip to take shortly.” The gun waved back and forth as he spoke, and a quiet threat rumbled from Ash’s throat.
Sherri put her arms around Ash, trying to make a good show of affection for the peanut gallery. She nuzzled against his ear, nipping his jaw and earlobe the way he had before with her. “He’s trying to piss you off, and it’s working. Let’s just get through this.”
Ash clenched his fingers around her waist, but some of the tension flowed out of his shoulders.
Until Jojo spoke again. “I guess you’re the kind who takes orders from your bitch. So sad, Asher.”
Ash snapped his teeth.
Okay, now even Sherri wanted to kill him. This guy was one piece of work. She glanced over to the woman who’d escorted her to the bathroom, but her eyes cast down to the floor. Poor thing. Sherri couldn’t fathom having a mate like Jojo.
The big man, Ash’s father, approached with a tall woman on his arm. “Everyone’s waiting. Time to start.”
Jojo pulled his downtrodden mate by the arm. “Come on, Zoe, time to take our place among the well-wishers.”
Sherri and Ash took their assigned positions at the front. Everyone settled around them on either side, some in wolf form and some not. Ash’s father stood before them, holding an ancient-looking tome that definitely was not a Bible. Sherri stood beside Ash, her stomach rolling like she’d eaten something she shouldn’t have.
She tried to get a read on the room, to pick out anyone who looked threatening. Frankly, the entire room looked threatening. She continued to sweep visually, but returned to Jojo each time. The deep, droning words of Ash’s father went in one ear and out the other. For all she knew, she’d just agreed to give Ash her kidney and her left arm. The mortgage to her DC condo. Dammit, he could have it all if they got out of this in one piece.
“And now...” Ramon’s voice rose to a louder volume. “Before we move to the blood rite, we ask the great Mother and Father to bless this union. Does anybody in this pack have any words of wisdom for the about-to-be mated pair?”
“Yeah, I got some words.” They all turned to see Jojo step forward with his gun aimed at Ash.
“Motherfucker.” Ash shoved Sherri to the floor.
As she went down, across the way so did... Zoe? Jojo’s quiet mate took a sudden tumble and knocked into Jojo, sending his shot wild. Above Sherri, Ash groaned through clenched teeth and slumped on top of her.
“Are you okay?” She tried to feel to find out, but her hand came away with blood.
***
Ash’s arm burned. He gritted his teeth at the prodding of Zoe’s tweezers. “Jesus, woman. Are you trying to take the thing out or shove it up in there so I can save it for later?”
Tiny, uncomfortable tears colored by overdone makeup ran down Zoe’s cheeks. “Sorry. It’s in the fleshy part though, this should be easy.”
“Easy my ass.” He put his head back and followed the sound of Sherri’s pacing. “Hey. You all right? I landed on you pretty hard.”
She came over and sat by the head of the bed. Her now-familiar scent coiled inside Ash’s nostrils and eased over his nerves and muscles. “I’m not the one who got shot,” she said.
He took her hand in his good one, letting his eyes caress her creamy skin. “This wasn’t the vacation you had planned. I can’t apologize enough.”
Zoe’s quiet sniffle prompted them both to look up.
“Zoe, I know it’s an emotional time for everyone, but I need your head in the game,” Ash murmured.
“I know. I’ve got it. One sec...”
Ash held back a roar. Sherri’s hand was already in his, so he went ahead and squeezed. “Fuck.”
“There.” Zoe dropped something on a towel. “Let me clean it and put on a bandage.”
Ash let his head fall against the warmth of Sherri’s leg. Allowing her to cradle his head, the comfort made him sigh.
“Zoe.” Sherri put her hand over Jojo’s mate’s while she cleaned up her supplies. “You fell on purpose, right? You were trying to help—”
“Don’t—” Zoe snapped and pulled her hand away. Tears and God knew what else darkened her shirtsleeve. “I had on new shoes. You know how stilettos can be.”
Shit, had she bumped Jojo on purpose? Ash hadn’t considered the thought. He figured she was in here patching him up because his father had insisted. Going against her mate like that—especially against one crazier than a lobotomized squirrel—fuck. “Zoe...”
Zoe tucked her hair behind her ears and rushed to pack her things in an old makeup case she’d apparently cleaned out for medical supplies. She slid a foil packed over to Ash. “Put some of this on it to speed the healing.” She glanced up with a tired smile. “You always did bounce back fast. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Sherri ducked and scooted forward, approaching Zoe like one would a frightened child. “Zoe, remember when I said I’m supposed to start a new job soon? If anything happens to me tonight, people will worry. I’d be so grateful if I could make a phone call to let them know I’m safe.”
Zoe’s face flashed a million different emotions. “You’re not safe.”
“I know.” She took each of Zoe’s hands in each of hers. “I still have to try.”
Ash could hear every thump of his heart echo in-between his ears while he lay there with his head raised. The two women held hands and stared each other down, neither sure if it was safe to trust. Ash wasn’t sure himself. He’d grown up never trusting a soul except Jett.
In such a short time, he thought he might be getting there with Sherri. Was that a good thing? He hoped so.
Sherri’s hand squeezed Zoe’s. “What if your own daughter was taken?”
Ash closed his eyes. He’d never had kids. Never considered having any. Still, the question brought about a vivid mental picture even he couldn’t argue.
The door clicked. When Ash looked up, Sherri held a cell phone in her fist. He couldn’t believe she’d pulled it off.
“Is anybody at the door?”
Ash made his way over, moving slowly through the throbbing in his arm. “You’re good to go. Stand on the far wall to be safe. I hope you can trust this new supervisor of yours.”
“He’s based out of Phoenix. I’m sure he’s dealt with your kind, Ash.”
“Okay. Make it fast.”
Sherri nodded and dialed. “Agent Fowler. This is Agent Walker, from the DC office. I have some important information for you...”