Brett grabbed her other arm. “You can’t run fast enough to escape us, gimpy bitch.”
Her anger boiled over. “Leave me alone!” Grateful for her hard boots, she kicked Bret’s shin with all her strength.
As he staggered back with a shout, she twisted. Her foot connected with Roger’s knee. Not hard enough.
“Fucking shrew.” His fingers ground against her bone as he jerked her closer and his right hand lifted.
Before he could slap her, a baton struck his forearm. He yelped and jumped back. His grip loosened.
She yanked free.
Her rescuer stepped in front of her, facing the Rainier wolves. He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you all right, lass?”
The frozen steel of the male’s voice held a hint of Ireland. She knew that voice. It was the male from the Scythe garage. Tynan.
Her mouth went dry.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Teeth bared, Roger rubbed his arm. “Do you know who I am?”
“I don’t care who you are.” Tynan’s grip tightened on the baton. “I’m Deputy O’Connor with the Azure County Sheriff’s Department, and right now, you’re looking at an assault charge.”
Taking a hurried step back, Roger lifted his nose, his nostrils flaring as he checked the air. Undoubtedly, he caught the scent that Tynan was a shifter. A mean smile grew on his face. As an alpha, Roger had power almost equal to a Cosantir’s. “I’m alpha of the Rainier Territory and she”—he pointed to her—“is one of my pack.”
“Is she now?” Tynan moved sideways to look at her and still keep the two Rainier males in his field of vision. “Are you in his pack?”
Could Roger force her to return? Heather hadn’t mentioned pack rights. “I was.” Margery smoothed damp hands down her jeans. She took care with her words, “I live here now. I won’t return to Rainier Territory or be in his pack.”
“Right. That’s clear enough.” Tynan narrowed his eyes at the males. “You heard her. Be off with you.”
“I’m not leaving without her.” Roger’s voice rose. “She’s our banfasa.”
No. I’m. Not. She was done with being anyone’s banfasa. Her jaw set tightly. If Roger managed to take her back, she’d escape again, and go much, much farther next time.
Shaking his head, Tynan said mildly, “Apparently not any longer.”
Roger’s face darkened, and his fists came up. Brett, who was almost as big as the alpha, moved forward.
Tynan’s muscles tightened with a rippling motion beneath his shirt.
Oh Goddess, two to one—he’d get hurt.
Should I give up and go with Roger? No, she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. But she could fight beside this male. Her rescuer.
She lifted the bike’s heavy security chain from the handlebars. The thick, rough metal links were icy cold in her hands. If she swung the chain hard enough, it would slow—maybe stop—one of them.
Fear made her heart pound painfully in her chest, but her grip was solid. She’d do what she needed to do to protect Tynan.
He glanced at her, saw how she held the chain, and his eyes crinkled slightly before he told Roger, “Just so you know, if she damages a person, she won’t bandage them up afterward—and neither will our healer.”
“Well said, brawd.”
At the deep resonant voice, Margery jumped. Turned slightly.
Donal stood in the doorway of BOOKS. His perfect lips curved in a cold smile. “Want some help? Been a while since I performed abdominal surgery using my claws.”
An older shifter stood behind him—the one named Joe Thorson from the Scythe garage. He looked like he’d had more fights than all the younger males combined. “Shifters who bother females don’t live long. Not in our territory.”
Outnumbered, Roger backed a step and bumped into Brett. “Fine. We’re leaving. But”—he pointed at Margery—“she’s Rainier Territory’s banfasa. Pete isn’t going to let her walk away.”
As the two retreated with the stiff-legged gait of pissed-off wolves, Margery realized she wasn’t breathing. Her knees threatened to buckle. Dropping the chain on the bike, she grabbed the streetlight pole for support.
How could this happen? Once free of the Scythe, she’d been sure she’d be safe and happy. But…then there had been Rainier Territory. Pete. Roger.
I got away.
Out of Rainier Territory, she’d thought she’d be safe and happy in Cold Creek.
Wrong again.
Nowhere was safe.
Don’t I get to be happy?
Black spots danced in front of her eyes.
Tynan shoved his baton into his belt. “Don’t pass out on me, little female.” He wrapped a muscular arm around her waist and tugged her away from the streetlight.
Too dizzy to protest, she let him lead her to the center island where he sat her on an iron bench. “Donal.” He motioned toward the healer. “Maybe a quick check?”
Joining them, Donal took her hand for a second. His fingers were warm. She could almost feel the simmering healer energy as he assessed her.
Straightening, he spoke to Tynan—not to her, “No damage, just the shaky aftermath of an altercation.”
“An altercation that shouldn’t have happened.” Tynan’s hard voice made her flinch. “Some gobshite, he was.”
Rule number two of captivity: Avoid annoying the ones in charge.
She sat quiet and still, braced for whatever actions his anger would take. When nothing happened, she checked him from the corner of her eyes, keeping in mind Rule Number Four: Don’t look an irritated male straight in the face.
“She’ll be fine.” Donal turned his silvery gaze to her and smiled slightly. Coolly.
How pitiful was she to crave a warm smile like he’d given the cublings at the tavern?
Tynan was watching her as well, and his gaze held…a very male look.
The healer looked at her, then Tynan, then her, and without another word, he walked away. Back to the bookstore.
Leaving her with the deputy who turned to scowl after the healer.
Uh-oh. He was definitely angry. She edged away from him on the bench.
His anger disappeared as if it had never been, and he went down onto his haunches in front of her. “Lass, I have never hit a female in all my life. I’m not going to start now.”
Oh. She’d…hurt his feelings? That was the last thing she wanted. He’d been willing to fight for her.
She swallowed. “I’m sorry. I was…I learned to be…careful…when I lived in Seattle. In the compound. I’ve mostly gotten past it.”
Tynan was as motionless as a cat stalking a field mouse. “Your head knows you escaped the bad guys, but you were imprisoned long enough for your body to get set in its ways. It’ll take time.”
His clear blue eyes were like the Seattle sky when the wind from the Sound swept away any trace of clouds. Eyes a person could fall into.
Looking down, she saw his police badge, and her chest went tight, squeezing the air from her lungs. Quickly, she averted her gaze. “Thank you, Deputy O’Connor.”
“It’s Tynan, and you’re quite welcome.” His gaze went past her, looking at something across the street. “Are you ready for the next challenge of the day?”