He got up for just long enough to take a long, hot shower, order some takeout on his phone, wolf the food down once it arrived—then he went straight back to bed. By the time he was feeling good enough to head back to work, it was Saturday. He winced a little at what that was going to mean—it was always their busiest (not to mention their seediest) day. What was it about criminals and drug dealers that made them do the majority of their work on Saturdays? He dressed in his usual nondescript outfit—jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged his muscular frame tightly enough to make him a menacing sight—and headed to work, feeling an unusual prickle of unease in his stomach.

  The whole time he’d been home, if he hadn’t been straight up unconscious, his mind had been on Rosaline. It was almost embarrassing, how intently his mind seemed to want to obsess over her. What was it about her? It had to be the conscience thing, right? This was the worst thing he’d ever done, the worst act he’d ever played a role in—her face symbolized what it was he’d helped bring about. But if that was the case, why wasn’t he thinking about the other four women as much? He felt awful when he thought of them, imprisoned at the whim of Reed like they were… but not the same way he felt when he thought about Rosaline. Something in him was determined to protect her, to take care of her, to make sure she didn’t come to any harm… and no matter how much he argued with that little voice inside him, he couldn’t dissuade it. And he sure as hell couldn’t make it any quieter. It was like that White Elephant game his brothers had taught him in a rare quiet moment as a kid—the aim of the game was to think of anything but a white elephant. Of course, when that was the rule, the only thing that your brain would go to, over and over again, was a white elephant. It probably said something very deep about human nature—all it had done for Noah was stress him out.

  And now Rosaline was his white elephant—recurring to him, again and again, her bright green eyes, the way she’d almost seemed to read his mind. Effortlessly, she’d completely figured him out. Everything she’d assumed about him had been right. He hadn’t known what Reed was up to, he did find it repellent… and part of him did want, very much, to get her out of there. But could he really tear his whole life apart like that? Reed had made it very clear what would happen if Noah displeased him in any way. Not only would he fire him, but he’d also make it impossible for him to find another job anywhere else—he had that power. And what was worse…

  He’d tell his father where he was.

  Even the thought of that sent a shudder down his spine as he made the familiar drive to work from his apartment. He and his father hadn’t parted on good terms. The old man had been furious that his youngest son wanted to leave the Everglades, the place that had been their ancestral home since time immemorial… the place that generations of their family had fought and died to protect from humans and panthers alike. They’d fought. That wasn’t unusual, of course, not in their family—but this time, he knew, his father had been fighting to win, not just to teach him a lesson. He had the scars to prove it. He’d given as good as he’d gotten, and the battle had ended in a stalemate—he’d flown away, jumping from tree to tree with blood running from the wounds on his belly and chest. And he hadn’t heard from his father since.

  Who knew if anyone in his family even cared where he was? But when he’d met Reed all those years ago, the man had recognized him by the color of his eyes—the same eyes he shared with his family, with his father. It seemed Reed had known the old man, decades earlier—he’d been among the first dragons he’d ever met. He’d liked him, it turned out. Typical of Reed to be drawn to such a savage, ruthless fighter as Noah’s father. But the association was why he’d offered Noah a job—and the threat of turning him in to his father if he displeased him had kept him there.

  But what was the alternative? Continue to work for a man who was going to do what he planned to do to Rosaline, to all the innocent women in that basement prison? He shuddered as he strode through the door, lost in thought—and came face to face with Rory behind the bar.

  ”There you are, big guy. What’s the news?”

  ”Rory, hey.” Noah rubbed his face. “Could I get a drink?”

  The old wolf’s eyes widened. “That bad, hey? Could I tempt you—”

  ”Moonshine, yes, please.”

  Rory didn’t say anything—just poured a measure of clear liquid into a scotch glass and pushed it silently across the bar to Noah. He sipped at it, feeling the burn slice straight through his mouth and down his throat like a knife. What was it about alcohol that was so goddamn steadying?

  ”Thanks.”

  ”Now you’ve got to tell me what’s up.”

  Noah hesitated for a moment. Rory was his oldest friend here. And he’d never gotten in trouble for gossiping with the old wolf before. “Reed’s got a collection. Of shifter women. He sent me to kidnap a dragon from Colorado to complete the set.”

  Rory’s grizzled face went dark. “I was worried it was something like that.”

  ”You knew?”

  ”I suspected. Saw the bedding going in, see?” Trust Rory to have spotted a clue like that, Noah thought with some amusement. “Five women? Down there now?”

  ”Yeah. One of each,” he said, the words feeling unpleasant in his mouth. “Dragon, wolf, panther, bear, coyote…”

  Rory’s breath whistled through his teeth. “I can’t say that I’m surprised. Men like Reed… they see other people like property they can collect.”

  ”I’m surprised,” Noah said blankly. “I thought—I mean, I knew he had criminal connections and all that, but I never thought he’d—”

  ”Then you weren’t paying attention, dragon.” Rory’s voice was gentle but firm. “He’s a monster, the man we work for. You never found it suspect, the way he only hires shifters? It’s a power thing. He’s jealous of what we are, what we have, what we can do. So he wants to control us. Having us as staff is one way. Having women locked up at his beck and call, that’s just another symptom of the same disease.”

  Noah shuddered at the thought. “What can we do about it?”

  Rory turned back to the bar. “I’ve already said too much. I’m an old wolf, Noah. But you…” He trailed off. “You let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  Noah frowned, but Rory wouldn’t say any more. He finished his drink, feeling a little better despite the lingering uneasiness he felt, and headed into the upstairs kitchen to see who he was working with that night. To his surprise, it looked like the security roster had shrunk, somehow—before he realized with a jolt that there was a new assignment on the list. The fourth floor. Of course, he realized with a sick flip of his stomach. The prisoners would need guarding. Two guards on the door. To think that his colleagues, the buddies he’d been working security with for a decade, were going to be keeping an eye on these women the same way they’d always kept an eye on the dancers on the third floor, or the bars on the second and first… it made his skin crawl.

  ”Noah!” That was Pete, the cook. He was a panther with a huge burn scar down the side of his neck—he always said it was a cooking accident, but Noah had his doubts. The guy used to run with a pretty dangerous crowd. Now, he worked for Reed in the pretty simple kitchen out the back of Metamorphosis’s top bar, keeping the customers happy with beer, snacks, fries, and sandwiches. Noah headed over to check in with the panther. He was a good guy, for all that he still had some pretty dangerous friends.

  ”What’s up, Petey?”

  ”Take this down to the fourth floor, yeah? Girl in the end room hasn’t been fed yet.”

  The end room. Rosaline. He blinked at Pete as the panther shoved a plate of food into his hands—chips and a burger, not exactly the healthiest meal he’d ever seen. Was this how they were feeding the captives downstairs? He resolved to sneak in something healthier for Rosaline… then scolded himself for not immediately thinking of doing the same for the other women. Pete had turned away, back to his work, humming as he scrubbed the grill.

  ”Are you—okay with this?”

  ”With what, this old-ass grill? No way, but is Reed gonna replace any goddamn thing in here before the place burns down? Hell no.”

  ”I mean… never mind,” Noah sighed, teeth gritted. The panther clearly had no problem with the fact that actual, alive women were being kept prisoner downstairs.

  “Oh, you mean the girls? Reed filled me in. It’s cool by me, I’m not a prude. And if they cut the bar in, win win, right?”

  Noah stared at him, not comprehending. The panther looked impatient.

  ”I mean, safer to—you know, entertain down here than in some shitty hotel room, right? Reed was pretty strict about the need for discretion, though. I don’t know if you got the same speech, but make sure you just drop the food and go, right? He doesn’t want the staff fraternizing with the ladies.”

  Noah shook his head, taking the food and heading down the stairs as he put the pieces together. When he walked past the guards on the door to the fourth floor, he realized what had happened. It seemed Reed had given the staff a bogus story about what the five women were doing there. It was pretty clever—explaining their presence down there and giving the staff a good reason not to try to talk to them. No questions asked. He wondered who else knew the truth. Was it just him? Strange, that Reed had trusted him like that. Well, old Rory knew the truth now, too. Maybe it would spread.

  Or maybe not. Rory didn’t spread information that could put people in danger—and Noah knew all too well that Reed could be ruthless when his personal property was threatened. No—the more he thought about it, the more he knew that Rory wasn’t going to spread the word around. The only person in the building who could stop this from happening… was him.

  Suddenly, Noah’s decision was made.

  Rosaline looked up at him from the couch as he strode into the room, her green eyes bright. He slammed the plate of food down on the table in front of her and spoke in a rush.

  ”I have to get you out of here.”

  Her eyes widened a little, but she folded her arms. “Caught up, have you?”

  ”Yeah. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but—I’m going to, okay? I’m going to work on it, and figure out a way, and get you out before he can hurt you anymore.” He tensed up suddenly, realizing it had been a few days since he’d seen her. “He hasn’t—”

  ”Not yet. We remain unvisited,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “All five of us.”

  ”Yes, we have to get them out too.”

  ”What’s your plan, then?” She started picking at the plate of food he’d brought, giving him a grin as she did. “Sneak me a key in a plate of junk food? Could work, but I don’t know how I’d get past the guards…”

  ”You’re pretty calm about all this,” Noah pointed out, looking at her hard. “You seem way happier than you should.”

  ”You sound like my sister,” she sighed. “What can I say? I look on the bright side.” She rose to her feet, advancing on him. Suddenly she was close, up in his space, her bright green eyes focused sharply on his face.

  ”What?”

  ”You work for Reed. Why should I trust you? Why should I believe that you’re on my side, that you really want to get me out of here?”

  ”I don’t know,” he said honestly, looking into her eyes. “I wish I could give you a better answer than that. What he’s doing is wrong. He’s never been a good man, but I…” He took a deep breath. It was hard to talk through this stuff when he hadn’t even managed to think it through in his own head. But somehow, he felt an urge to be honest with her—to tell her everything that was going through his mind. “When I started working for him, I was scared. But it’s—it’s time to do what’s right. I can’t keep hiding like this. I can’t keep existing in survival mode.”

  She looked at him for a long moment—longer than he felt comfortable with, long enough that he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he didn’t look away. Hopefully, she’d sense his sincerity, understand that he wanted to help her. And at the same time… there was something strangely electrifying about being this close to her. Something that he hadn’t felt before. A pull, deep in her eyes. And to his surprise, he could see something of it mirrored in her eyes—a kind of guardedness, a look of surprise… a look of something that was almost like desire.

  She cleared her throat suddenly, dropping her eyes, and almost without his permission, he felt his hand come up to her face. It was the work of a moment to tilt her chin back up—her face was so soft under his fingertips, her green eyes returning to his with a look of surprise in their depths, now, and before he could stop himself, before he could think for more than a microsecond about what a terrible idea it was, he pressed his lips to hers. There was a long, frozen second where he felt like he was suspended in midair, in freefall. Her lips were soft beneath his, and he knew he’d overstepped just about every boundary that existed. But to his shock, his complete incredulity—she was kissing him back, softly at first, and then with more passion, her body moving closer to his as the kiss deepened …

  And then they broke apart, both a little short of breath. Noah spoke first, barely getting his words in the right order.

  ”Sorry—I—that was—“

  ”Unexpected,” she finished for him, one eyebrow lifted in an expression a little like the lofty curiosity she’d been regarding him with—but he could see a flush in her cheeks and an acceleration to her breathing that suggested she wasn’t as completely unaffected as she’d like to suggest. “Do you do that with all your captives?”

  He gritted his teeth. “Of course not! I—“ And then he realized, belatedly, that her eyes were sparkling. “You’re messing with me.”

  ”Mm,” she said, a smile breaking out across her face. “Well spotted, Noah. Look, I have no idea if I can trust you or not, but—I’ll take it into consideration, alright? Let me know when you’ve got a more concrete plan to get me out of here.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. Was she completely insane? Here she stood, inside a prison cell built by a maniac who was collecting women like her as though they were prizes, standing opposite her captor’s employee—who’d just kissed her (what the hell had he been thinking? What had come over him?) And yet she managed to look so composed, so ready to face whatever was coming… god, she was even making jokes with him. Who was this woman?

  ”I’ve never met anybody like you in my life,” he said. It was like he was speaking on autopilot. Something about her just knocked all his filters out, made him say exactly what he was thinking. What a dangerous person to be around. What a deeply frightening prospect, someone who could see right through you with their gorgeous green eyes.

  So why couldn’t he look away?

  ”I have to go,” he said quickly. “I have to work—”

  ”Don’t let me keep you,” she said, that smile still dancing around in her eyes. “I’ll see you around, Noah.”

  ”Right,” he said, heart pounding as he closed the door. She was… extraordinary.

  He was going to break her out of this place.

  Chapter 8 – Rosaline

  Rosaline smiled as Noah left the room—there was just something so profoundly charming about the guy. He was a terrifying physical specimen, all muscle and brute force, with a physical presence that was actively threatening… and yet, when she looked into his eyes, somehow it was clear that she had nothing to fear from him.

  Or did she? Rosaline frowned a little, thinking of her guarded sister, of the way Olivia didn’t trust anyone until she’d gathered plenty of information about them. It was possible that Noah’s act wasn’t completely genuine. What if he was manipulating her? She had to admit, it would have to be a pretty good act—she was usually a pretty good judge of character, and when she looked at him it was hard to see anything hiding under the apparent sincerity in his eyes. But he’d fooled her once before, hadn’t he? Back in Colorado, when he’d walked out of the forest and asked her to come and help her clear the road. That hadn’t been an innocent request—that had been a kidnapping, and she’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. So what if this was a trick as well? What if he’d been sent by Reed, to try to trick her into breaking out—some kind of complicated scheme to try to break her spirit?

  Well, she sure as hell wasn’t going to wait for him to come back to her with whatever plan he intended to come up with. Her eyes flicked to the poster on the wall, and she grinned, pleased by the reminder of what was going on back there. A couple of days of being left to her own devices had meant she’d been able to dig quite a substantial way into the wall. And that day—just before Noah had come barging in to inform her he was going to help her escape, in fact—there had been a particularly promising development. It seemed the cement behind the wallpaper was only about a foot deep. At a point she’d reached earlier, it began to crumble and fall away, and she realized to her delight that there was a big empty space back there. It was difficult to see through the little hole she’d made to see what was happening back there, but it was encouraging to have broken through to a cavity.

  Rising to her feet, she padded over to the wall, curiosity driving her to keep scratching away at the wall. She was worried about damaging her hands too badly as she scraped at the rough cement, but thankfully, one of Reed’s little provisions was providing her with some good cover. There were a number of jars of nail polish included with the makeup he’d left in the bathroom—as if she was interested in making herself look more aesthetically appealing for the benefit of her captor. But the nail polish was handy. She had long, elegant nails, and a couple of coats of the polish had served well to fortify them enough to keep scraping away at the cement without breaking or damaging her nails, hiding any evidence of what she was up to. And whenever the polish got chipped or damaged, it was easy enough to apply a new coat when she was done digging for the time being. She grinned as she worked, carefully scratching at the crumbling cement. Whoever had done this work had really stuffed it up—Reed ought to ask for his money back.

 

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