If anything, his gaze softened. “I know.”
Her key chain, the silver one with green gems at the end, stuck out of his front pocket. If she could just get to it…
He pointed to a stool. “You look exhausted. Sit down.”
“No. Now it’s time for you to tell me what you want,” she said, setting her stance.
“That’s fair.” He finished his drink. “I want you to slowly concentrate and see if you can create fire again. If you do, try to stop it.”
That was crazy. “I didn’t create fire.” How far gone was he?
“Just try,” he murmured, watching her.
“Fine.” Maybe if she proved she couldn’t make fire, he’d let her go? She squinted at the counter and tried to make flames.
He cocked his head. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to make fire,” she muttered. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
He lifted one broad bare shoulder. “I don’t know. You look constipated.”
She slid her gaze up to his. “Seriously?”
His grin was almost charming. “Yeah. I think you should start small.” He dug a napkin out of a drawer stuffed with different types—mostly from fast-food joints. “Try to burn this.”
Oh, that was ridiculous. If she could gain his trust, then maybe she could get those keys. At some point, he’d get tired, and as far as she could tell, there was only one bedroom in this quaint little prison. She lowered her head, pretended she was Superman shooting lasers from her eyes, and shot.
Nothing.
The napkin sat there, right where Sam had put it.
Her head hurt and her nose felt stuffy. “No luck.”
He sighed. “Yeah. Well, it was worth a shot.”
The idea that he believed she could make fire with her brain was terrifying. What other illusions did he hold? They were alone, in the middle of nowhere, and she couldn’t get free. Her stomach cramped.
A log in the fire fell over, and flames spit out, pushing open the grate. Another log tumbled out onto the living room floor, scattering embers.
“Shit,” Sam said, hurrying around the counter toward the fireplace.
She didn’t have a choice. Holding her breath, she stabbed him as hard as she could in the lower back. He hissed and fell, blood pouring from the wound. “Sorry,” she cried out, grabbing the nearest stool and swinging it at his head. The metal impacted with a nauseating crunch, and she darted forward, snatched her keys from his jeans, and ran for the door. “I’m sorry, sorry, sorry,” she panted, ripping the door open and running into the storm. “I’ll send help. I promise.” God, she hoped she hadn’t killed him.
Chapter Eight
Unconsciousness captured Sam for the briefest of seconds, but it was long enough for the woman to get to her car and spin out of the clearing. He groaned and lifted himself to his knees, having to reach around to wrench the knife out of his kidney. Growling, seeing double, he yanked his phone out of his pocket, nearly dropping it thanks to all the blood on his hand.
“It’s too late to be calling. What the fuck do you want?” Bear snapped, sounding sleepy.
“There’s an Arteon driving way too fast away from my cabin with a human female at the wheel. Stop her. Everything is at stake.” Sam dropped the phone and forced himself to stand, sending healing cells to his colon. Not in a million years had he thought she’d stab him in the back. Fury crackled down his body, and flames erupted on the sofa.
Shit.
“I’m not a witch,” he muttered, rolling his neck and wiping blood off his temple. There was no way he should be able to light his sofa on fire just with his temper. He reached into the cupboard beneath the bar for the fire extinguisher, taking care of the sofa. He sent more cells to his head to heal his pounding headache and then moved to step into his motorcycle boots.
He ran through the last few minutes, swore, and picked up his phone to dial Bear again.
“What? I’m going right now,” Bear snapped.
“Don’t hurt her,” Sam said.
Bear growled. “You said everything is at stake.”
“Don’t even think of hurting her, Bear. Just stop the car before she gets to the main road. That’s all.” Sam barely kept from threatening the shifter, which wouldn’t get him anywhere.
“Fine. I’ll just stop her. Probably.” Bear hung up.
Even at top speed, Honor would only be halfway to the main road by now, and hopefully she was being somewhat careful in this storm. She could just as easily wrap the car around a tree as reach the road.
Sam would have to get to her before Bear did anything stupid. If Bear shifted, he’d reach her long before anybody else, but at least he’d keep Honor from telling anybody about the kidnapping.
What in the heck had just happened? Sam was always so prepared, his brothers often ridiculed him. How had he let one small human nearly take him out? It was crazy. Yet somehow, he’d trusted her. Her soft eyes and quick brain. Oh, he’d been a moron.
He walked right past the jackets hanging near the door. Right now, his body and temper were too hot to wear any other clothing, so he crossed out of the cabin and hustled into the storm as his kidney healed along with the rest of his injuries.
She’d actually stabbed him in the back, hit him with a stool, and left him to die.
He had to admire that in a woman.
The chilly rain felt good on his skin, and steam rose around him. He ignored it and loped into a jog, making sure his body was repaired, before increasing his speed and running all out along the now muddy road. The lump on his temple slowly receded, and soon he was at full health, his boots splashing up mud and water onto his ripped and soaked jeans. While he appreciated the woman’s ingenuity, he couldn’t let her get away with it this time.
She’d put herself in danger by driving so crazily, and she’d put herself in peril by forcing Sam to call in Bear. Bear was the leader of the entire bear nation, and while he appeared to play it fast and loose, he held a tight rein on protecting his people. He’d never allow a human to threaten them. Ever.
Sam ducked his head and ran faster. What had he just done by calling in Bear?
* * * *
Honor’s wet hands slipped on the steering wheel, and it took her a second to realize it was blood and not rainwater covering her fingers. Metallic fear filled her mouth. She’d never stabbed anybody before. But they’d been at a deserted cabin in the freaking woods…and he’d kidnapped her. What choice had he left her? What if he died? She’d call for help the second she reached safety. Drive. Just drive.