Dorian flashed him an unfriendly look from the kitchen table as Rick poured himself a cup of coffee.
The man could look as mean as he wanted to.
Rick had smelled desire and lust coming off of Dorian like a coat of fur against his skin, sensual, erotic, and welcome.
The man could deny wanting Rick, but his scent had told a different story.
“What are we doing today?” Dorian asked, finishing his breakfast and pushing the bowl aside.
There wasn’t much to eat here except a cupboard full of canned goods, but soup was good any time of day in Rick’s opinion.
Rick was trying not to be an ass toward Dorian.
But after the rejection early this morning, his mood wasn’t the best.
He had one more day until Dorian’s initial seven days were over, and Rick had yet to sleep with the guy.
“Nate is going to meet a contact of ours. Hopefully we find out what evidence the prosecutor has against us. He’ll get in touch with me just as soon as he knows something.”
He knew he wasn’t going to pick Dorian as his mate.
The man had not only made it clear that he didn’t want any part in this, but Rick fully agreed.
Hell, he didn’t want any part in this forced mating either.
“So we just hang out here all day?” The question was suspicious, as if Rick had ulterior motives.
He did.
There was nothing he could do but wait, so why not pass the day away trying to get Dorian to agree to a bout of sex?
Damn if he didn’t want to fuck Dorian before they parted ways.
It was all he could think about since the human had sat in his lap and brought forth a need so feral, so primal that Rick thought he was finally losing his mind.
Rick took a sip of his coffee.
He really didn’t like to talk shop until he had his first cup, but it seemed Dorian wasn’t going to wait.
“That’s the plan.”
“I still don’t understand why I was set up. How would they know about me that soon? And how do they know to use me against you? I’m one of three candidates. Why didn’t they accuse the other two?”
Good questions.
But Rick had no answers.
He had been thinking the same thing.
Why wasn’t Omar or Silvia accused of killing the three changelings?
Why Dorian?
Rick gave the only answer he could think of.
“They want it to seem like I’m controlling you. Make the changeling species seem savage and ruthless.” There couldn’t be any other explanation.
He remembered Remus saying the same thing, and the more Rick thought about it, the more sense it made.
Dorian shook his head.
“The nonhumans have been in the public eye for three years already. Why now? Why didn’t they do this when you were first discovered?”
Rick had thought about that, too.
He didn’t have an answer.
“I’m not sure, Dorian,” he stated honestly.
“But they are up to something. There should be no way the hyenas are behind this, but I’m starting to wonder if they aren’t working with the police after making some sort of deal.” He knew they were working with the cops, but to what extent and what bargaining chip were they using?
Dorian cocked his head sideways, his cinnamon-brown eyebrows pulling into a deep frown, his expression one of bewilderment.
“What deal?”
“Immunity.” Rick had thought very hard about what he knew versus what was happening to them.
His gut was telling him that this was bigger than just the Shelton police department and a judge and prosecutor.
This was on a wider scale.
Something was happening.
He could just feel it.
His hip vibrated.
Rick glanced at Dorian, seeing in the man’s eyes that he wanted to finish this conversation.
It would have to wait.
He grabbed his phone and answered it.
“Yeah?”
“Get out of there, now. They are coming for you.” The caller hung up.
Rick glanced at the caller ID, but it was private.
He didn’t recognize the voice, either.
The hairs on his neck stood on end as Rick dropped the cup of coffee, the mug shattering on the floor, the contents splashing his pant leg as he raced toward Dorian.
“We have to go, now.”
Dorian didn’t argue.
He didn’t ask what was going on.
The man pushed from the table as Rick grabbed his smaller hand and then they ran toward the front door.
Before leaving, he snagged his keys from the table next to the couch, and then they were outside, running for the car.
Rick ducked when he heard a bullet whiz past his head.
“Get in!”
Dorian scrambled to get the door open as Rick heard another bullet being fired.
He was too busy running for his life to pinpoint where the shooter was.
He started the car and slammed the car into reverse, heading out of the driveway.
He cursed when he saw a black SUV pulling out in front of him, blocking him from driving away.
“Hang on, Dorian. This is going to get hairy.”
Dorian quickly snapped his seat belt into place.
From the getup one of the men was wearing as he jumped out of the vehicle, gun raised and aimed at Rick’s fucking head, the answer was a definite hell no.
“Not likely.”
He swerved the car, turning it back toward the house, drove through the grass, and then got the Mustang back onto the road, heading in the opposite direction.
He smelled blood.
“Are you bleeding?” Rick asked.
When Dorian didn’t answer him, Rick glanced over to see Dorian slumped in the seat.
Shit.
There was blood webbing out from the man’s shoulder.
He had been hit with that second bullet.
“Fuck!” Rick slammed his foot down hard on the gas pedal.
He needed to get to Olivia.
She would know what to do.
For some strange reason, Rick’s beast was not reacting to the scent of blood, thinking Dorian prey.
“Hang tight, Dorian. Don’t you dare die on me.” He drove faster, checking his rearview mirror to see the SUV following him.
A ping noise sounded, and Rick knew he was being shot at.
His Mustang was going to have bullet—”Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Rick shouted when the back window shattered.
Keeping one hand firmly on the wheel, Rick called Nate.
“I’m being chased by what looks to be a militant group, and they are heavily armed. I need help ASAP. Get Selene and a few others. I’m heading south on Route 3, by the Mason County safe house.”
“Fuck,” Nate said.
“Selene and I are heading your way even as we speak. We were coming out there to talk to you.”
“Nate.”
“Yeah?”
“Dorian’s been shot, and I don’t think I can get to Olivia’s.”
There was a pause.
“How bad?”
“His left shoulder and he has passed out. The bleeding hasn’t stopped.”
“I’ll get ahold of Bryson. He has medical training and can help. I’ll send him this way.”
Rick tossed the phone aside and then reached over to feel Dorian’s neck.
There was a faint pulse.
The man was losing too much blood.
Rick shouted out his frustration.
Dorian wasn’t even supposed to be involved in this.
How had a simple nomination gone so terribly wrong?
Rick swerved when a bullet came through the back window and hit the dash, killing his radio.
Whoever was after them was damn good, and it seemed they weren’t going to give up.
He damn near smiled in triumph when he spotted Nate’s red Yukon heading his way.
Nate drove a beast of a vehicle.
Rick just prayed it would win in a fight with an Escalade.
They were about to find out.
Rick shot past Nate.
He had to get Dorian help.
He heard gunshots being fired, but kept going.
His heart was beating so fast that his chest hurt.
What if Dorian didn’t make it?
What if the human died?
Rick couldn’t think about that—because if he did, he’d turn the car around and attack the bastards responsible for Dorian’s death.
He wanted to.
Oh god, how he wanted to turn around.
The scent of Dorian’s blood was offensive.
It was funny how in the span of a few days Rick’s feelings had changed.
His werewolf was now looking at Dorian differently, as if the man were already Rick’s mate.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he said out loud.
“I don’t care about the forced mating anymore. Fuck pack law and fuck what anyone else thinks.” Rick glanced over at Dorian and felt his stomach twist into knots.
The man was so damn pale now.
“I swear, if he makes it, I’ll claim him. I’ll make Dorian mine so no one else can hurt him.”
The vow was made.
Fate accepted it.
Dorian groaned.
“Dorian?”
“I can’t move my arm.”
Rick wiped the tear from his eye.
“Just lie still. I’m getting you help.”
And then Dorian was quiet once more.
Rick turned off of the main road.
He took a side street as soon as they hit a populated area.
He reached for his phone, grabbing it off of the floor.
Dialing Bryson, he drove to a small lot on the side of a closed building.
Rick gave the werewolf his location.
“I’m five minutes from you. Sit tight.”
Rick spotted a seedy motel across the street and told Bryson to meet him there.
He pulled from the lot, hating to leave Dorian for a second, but climbed out.
He signed for a room and then pulled the car around back.
At least it would be out of sight.
Thank goodness they were on the first floor.
After opening the door to the rented room, he went back to the car.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Rick pulled Dorian as gently as he could from the car.
He kicked the car door closed and then hurried inside.
Placing Dorian on the bed, Rick shut the motel door and then clicked on the lights.
Dorian looked a mess.
The blood stained his entire shirt now and was soaking into his jeans.
Rick grabbed Dorian’s shirt and ripped it in half, seeing the blood smeared across his pale skin.
He needed towels.
Grabbing a few that were in the bathroom, Rick wet one and brought it back.
He had to staunch the bleeding until Bryson arrived.
It was amazing how such a small hole bled so badly.
No sooner did Rick wipe the wound then the bleeding began again.
He pressed a dry towel against Dorian’s shoulder, praying the werewolf medic made it here soon.
As he stared at Dorian lying there pale and lifeless, Rick realized that he had been falling for the guy and was just too damn stubborn to accept it.
The man intrigued and fascinated him, sexually interested him, and had qualities Rick found endearing, but he had never thought Dorian would steal his heart.
It seemed Rick was the one to change the rules halfway through the game.
He was falling in love.
Shit.
A knock sounded at the door.
Rick left the towel on Dorian’s shoulder as he glimpsed out of the window.
It was Bryson.
Rick opened the door.
The werewolf walked in, a medic bag hanging from his shoulder.
“I’m told he was shot.” Bryson set his bag down on the bed Dorian was lying on and pulled the towel back.
“Shift and I’ll kill you,” Rick warned.
He didn’t know Bryson all that well—the guy had just joined Rick’s pack not too long ago—and Rick wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to Dorian.
The scent of blood just might bring out the changeling’s beast.
“I’m a medic for a reason,” Bryson answered.
“Blood doesn’t affect me the way it does most changelings. I can handle it.”
Which said more about Rick considering he had shifted the first time he smelled Dorian bleeding.
It was good to know the college guy had a better handle over his beast when it came to blood.
“It was a clean shot, exiting out of his back,” Bryson said as he lowered Dorian.
“I’m going to have to repair the damage. This might take a while.”
Rick sat at the small table by the window.
“Fix him.”
Bryson nodded and began the task of trying to save Dorian’s life.
It wasn’t until he saw Bryson pull out a bag of blood that the implication that Dorian was very badly injured hit him like a ton of bricks.
He had thought it, but to see the man being hooked up to an IV brought the nightmare home.
Rick walked into the bathroom, calling Nate.
It went to voice mail.
He prayed everything was all right.
His phone rang, the caller ID not showing who it was.
Rick answered it.
“Hello?”
“You made it out.”
He tried to place the voice, but couldn’t.
“Yes, I did.”
“Listen carefully because I don’t have much time and you’ll never hear from me again. The government has had a Death Squad put together. Their main objective is to try and eradicate nonhumans. If all goes according to plan, chaos will break out, but the Death Squad has been instructed to make it look like the nonhumans have started it. This will give the government the green light to launch a full-scale war against changelings and vampires.”
“Why are you helping me?” Rick asked as he sat on the side of the tub, feeling like he was going to be sick.
“Don’t interrupt. You were supposed to be out of the picture, but you weren’t arrested. Enrique Marcelo is their first target. If they can take down such a powerful alpha as you, then they can get the ball rolling faster.” The caller paused.
“I’m helping because I don’t believe killing is a correct way to deal with fear of the unknown. Nonhumans have done nothing terribly wrong, yet some humans are hell-bent on wiping you from the face of the planet. Not all of us humans agree with this. Stop this war, Rick. Don’t let them kill you, fight back, and never give up. We are all depending on you to win, nonhumans and humans alike.”
The call ended.
Rick stood in the bathroom of the seedy motel stunned to the depth of his toes.
The caller wanted Rick to lead a rebellion.
He wanted Rick to fight against his very own government.
A war was coming, the caller had said.
But for Rick, it had already started.