Claiming Their Mate Read online

  “I guess you’ll have to drive me home.”

  “Yeah.”

  She rubbed her face. He admired the way she didn’t complain, because she had to hurt like hell.

  “Okay.”

  He didn’t like her hesitation, but he understood her concern. Since she appeared a little shaky on those high heels, he placed a hand on her back to guide her into the car. The touch set off his internal alarm. Being this close to her made his body go crazy. He’d been warned the first time a werewolf got near his future mate, he had to fight not to shift. He just needed to keep it together for another few minutes until he wasn’t in the public eye.

  Chelsea was quiet on the way to her house and only spoke to give him directions. When they neared her street, she twisted in her seat. “Do you believe Mendez will come after me?” Her voice held more strain than when he’d first reached her. His gut soured.

  If he could rub away the hurt, he would. Should he tell her the truth or try to sugarcoat it? He sucked at taking care of someone.

  “From what you told me, Mendez basically admitted to ripping out Jeffrey’s throat. He doesn’t need a witness.”

  Her breath hitched. “I guess that’s a yes, then. Do I need to go into some kind of witness protection program or anything?” When her breath caught at the end, it was like a knife slicing him.

  “That’s only for certain crimes.” He didn’t want to mislead her. “Trax and a few others picked up Jeffrey’s body and cleaned up the mess. The authorities won’t be notified because they won’t know there’s been a crime.” He slowed as he entered her street. “It’s for the best.”

  “You can’t cover up a crime.” Her voice squeaked. “That’s not legal. I’m going to call them.”

  He inhaled. She was a stubborn one. “You need a few more facts before you do that.”

  “I don’t need the cops accusing me of committing a crime.” She huffed and pointed to a one-story, yellow, craftsman-style home with a porch. “That’s my place.”

  He pulled the car in front, cut the engine, and rushed over to her side. When he opened her door, he held out his hand to help her up, but she didn’t take it. Oh, boy. This was going to be a long night.

  She faced him. “I owe you more than I could ever repay, so thank you, but I really need some downtime.”

  “I get it. I’ll walk you to the door.” Then he needed to make sure she understood why calling the cops wasn’t a good idea.

  Keeping her head down, she rushed up the walkway. She fumbled in her bag for her key, and when she finally retrieved it and stuck it in the lock, it wouldn’t work.

  Her anxiety ate at him. “Let me.” He wanted to check out her house anyway.

  He wouldn’t put it past Mendez to know where Chelsea lived already. However, during the walk up her path, he hadn’t detected any werewolves in the vicinity. He pushed open her front door.

  She dashed inside and inhaled. “It’s good to be home.” She dropped her purse on the table by the door, kicked off her heels and sighed. She faced him. “Thank you again.”

  “I want to look around.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so. Stay here.” His tone must have come out harsh enough, because she didn’t shoot back a retort.

  He walked into a bedroom, came out, and passed through the dining room to the kitchen. No one was there, allowing him to push the tension aside. “It’s good. Now we need to talk.”

  Her jaw tightened and she winced. “I’m tired. Can we have this discussion another time?”

  He felt sorry for her, but she had to know what was at stake, besides her life. If she called the cops, there would be a record of the crime. Any CSI worth his salt would find traces of dried blood and that would be bad.

  “Why don’t you take a shower and change, and when you’re done we’ll have our talk.”

  She cocked a brow. “I might be an hour.”

  “I’ll wait.” It unnerved him that she didn’t trust him, but he totally understood humans. “Let me know if you feel sick.”

  He backed up and sat on the sofa. If she thought he’d leave her here unprotected, she was dead wrong.

  She held up both palms.

  Here it comes.

  “How about giving me space tonight, and I’ll fix you breakfast tomorrow morning? We can chat then.”

  He cocked a brow. “You’re asking me to spend the night?” He knew she wasn’t, but he wanted to lighten the mood by flirting with her.

  Her mouth opened and formed a cute little O. “No. I mean you need to leave and come back tomorrow.”

  Drake propped his feet up on her wooden coffee table and wrapped his hand behind his head. “You might have a concussion, and someone needs to watch you. Either I can drag you into the shower and scrub you clean myself before tucking you in, or you can do it yourself. Either way, when you get out of bed in the morning, I’ll be here.” He held up a finger. “That’s after we talk tonight.”

  She huffed out a few breaths, clearly looking for something to say that would get him to leave.

  “You aren’t going away, are you?” She finally understood his resolve.

  “Nope.”

  “Fine.” She whipped around and stalked back to her room.

  He smiled the moment she locked the door. He was almost tempted to show her locked doors would not keep him out, but for Chelsea’s sake, he’d wait for Kurt. The two of them would decide how best to handle her.

  A picture of her strapped to the wall passed through his mind’s eye. His cock knew the best way to handle her. He leaned back and let his imagination go wild. Her tits had been spectacular, so full and supple. Thinking about them got his cock hard, and he was forced to adjust his balls. He sat up. Focus. You’re not here to have sex. That would come later.

  The whole premise for being here was because he believed Mendez wouldn’t stop until Chelsea was dead. Christ. First Couch had gone after Liz Wharton, and now Mendez wanted Chelsea out of the way. The sad part was that Chelsea hadn’t brought any of this on herself.

  Less than twenty minutes later, a car pulled in front of the house, and Drake shot to his feet. He peeked out the window to make sure it was Kurt. He released his breath.

  Carrying two suitcases, one in each hand, Kurt walked up the sidewalk and waited for Drake to open the door for him.

  “Welcome.”

  Kurt strode in and set the bags down. “How is she doing?”

  “Nothing short of dragging her out of the house will make her leave. I’m worried about her and what she might do. She’s been talking about calling the cops.”

  “Crap. We need to come up with a plan.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “If she’s that determined not to budge, then I want to scope out the place and check for possible entry points.”

  Drake waved a hand. “I already did that, but feel free to have a go at it yourself.”

  Kurt nodded and studied each window. Once done with the living room, he disappeared into the kitchen and returned a minute later. “They could come through the back door, the front entrance, or break the windows. The good news is that it’s a one-bedroom, so there’s not much to watch.”

  Perhaps he could ask Trax or Dante to install a surveillance system so they’d be forewarned of a breech, should one occur.

  “What did Trax say?” He assumed Kurt had checked to make sure Jeffrey was at peace.

  “My brother has been taken of, and the general wants to brief us tomorrow.”

  He didn’t need to be at that session. Since he’d failed to kill the bastard, the general would want to know why. Trax and Dante had captured Couch, but his men had broken him out of jail. That still stung.

  “You go. I need to keep a watch over Chelsea.” He wasn’t convinced that Kurt was in the right frame of mind to focus on her well-being.

  He almost saw Kurt’s lips lift, but it was so fast, he figured he imagined it. He wanted to say something to console his best friend about his
loss, but words would never be enough. Jeffrey had been his friend, too.

  The door to Chelsea’s bedroom opened sooner than he expected. She was dressed in a too-large T-shirt, baggie pajama bottoms, and fuzzy pink slippers. Her cheek had turned a deeper shade of purple, and she had a black eye. All fresh from her shower, she couldn’t have looked more adorable if she tried. Her frown warned him she was still struggling with what happened.

  Drake patted the sofa next to him. “Why don’t you sit next to me, darlin’, and we can talk.” And I’ll hold you and comfort you.

  She stiffened. “I’m not your darlin’.”

  Ouch. He shouldn’t have let that slip out. But she was wrong. She was going to be his darlin’, and she was going to love it, if it was the last thing he did.

  #

  The warm shower helped rinse away some of the stench, but the trauma remained. Even after her wounds healed, the scars on her heart would still be there. Sooner or later, Mendez would find her and come after her. The idea of staying with Kurt and Drake held some merit, but if she let Mendez dictate her next move, he’d win. She’d always held her ground. For her own sanity, she wanted to stay here.

  Knowing Drake was out there waiting, she hurried. Once she dried, she put on her most comfortable clothes and stepped into the living room. Both Drake and Kurt turned to face her, and she debated turning around and hiding in her bedroom. Her face looked hideous, her arm hurt, and she was still shaken from the attack.

  She glanced at Kurt, who kept his gaze focused at the ground. His hands were clenched by his side. She was torn between giving the man a hug and keeping her distance. When her grandfather had passed away, she’d been inconsolable, and it had taken months before she adjusted to life without him.

  “Do you have any news on that man?” She couldn’t bring herself to say his name. She desperately needed to know Drake and Kurt’s werewolf clan was doing everything possible to apprehend that skunk.

  Kurt shook his head. “We know who he is, and the alerts to apprehend him went out immediately after I left you.”

  That helped. She looked back at Drake. “What did you want to talk to me about?” She hoped this wasn’t about getting counseling for her near-rape. She’d been to enough shrinks in her lifetime after her sister died in a car crash to know they didn’t help much. Stupid drunk driver.

  Once more, Drake patted the sofa seat next to him. She figured the sooner they said what they’d come for, they’d leave. Only then did she spot the suitcases. “What are those for?”

  “Chelsea, please come sit.”

  Stubborn man. She joined Drake and waited for Kurt to sit in the chair opposite them, but he remained standing with his body rigid.

  Kurt dragged a hand down his mouth and moved toward her. “I need to explain who we’re dealing with.”

  “Okay.” They couldn’t scare her more than she already was. “I do get that I was a witness to a murder and that the murderer wants me dead.”

  I also know he’s a werewolf, which maybe scares the shit out of me more than the fact that he’s after me.

  His chest seemed to cave. “Good. That’s a start. Do you know about the Colters?”

  “Only what Liz told me. They’re bad werewolves who can’t be killed by normal means.” Both Drake and the doctor had explained about the poison and the bullet to the heart stuff.

  Drake squeezed her leg once and her body took notice.

  “That’s right,” Drake said. “I only winged the man when I shot at him, and all he has to do is take the same antidote you did, and he’ll be good to go in a day or two.”

  Damn. “So now what?”

  Kurt answered. “We wait here, unless you’re willing to come with us.”

  “I’m not going to let that jerk ruin my life. I’m staying put.”

  “Then I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

  It took a minute for the information to sink in. The local anesthetic the doctor had given her must have messed with her brain. “You think you’re going to stay here?”

  Kurt sat down on the edge of the chair and faced her. “Listen. Mendez is evil. As soon as he’s fit, he’ll come after you. We need to protect you.”

  She opened her mouth then shut it. “Fine, but I only have one bedroom.”

  Drake grinned. “I figure Kurt will want to stay in wolf form, and I can share your bed.”

  If he hadn’t winked, she’d have been scared. Truth be told, cuddling up to that body would be a dream come true. Just not right now. The memory of Mendez touching her made her shiver.

  “What is it, Chelsea?”

  “Nothing.” She stood. “Let me get you a pillow and a blanket. The sofa pulls out to a bed. It’s big enough for you both if the floor gets cold.”

  Drake laughed and the sound rumbled in her chest. Why couldn’t two ugly men have saved her? It would have made her life so much easier. She stepped over to the closet next to the half bath and took out a set of linens. She returned and placed them on the sofa. “Are either of you hungry? Because I’m starving.”

  Both men glanced at each other. She didn’t know why they always seemed to confer with each other. Either they were hungry or they weren’t.

  Kurt nodded. “It’s better to call and order delivery.”

  “Fine.” She didn’t like the idea of going out in public knowing she looked abused. People would look at her and wonder. Her stomach turned. If she remained here, no one would know she’d been shot, beaten, and almost raped. “Do you think if we went out, Mendez and his men might break into my house and lie in wait?”

  “We wouldn’t put anything past him,” Kurt said. “As a precaution, I suggest you pack a bag and some spare toiletries to keep in Drake’s car. That way, if—”

  She held up her hand. “I get it. I’m in danger. You believe it’s inevitable, but you don’t know when.”

  Drake tugged on her hand. “You are one smart cookie. We’re going to get along just fine.”

  Fine indeed.

  She needed to focus on staying alive.

  Chapter Three

  Chelsea was tired and stuffed from eating too much pizza. It was nice having dinner with two such virile men. During their meal, Drake worked very hard to keep the conversation upbeat, but unfortunately, Kurt seemed too focused on his brother’s death to enjoy himself. Her own mood swung radically, and by 9:00 P.M., her face hurt, her arm throbbed, and she was more confused than ever.

  She stood. “I’m going to hit the hay. Is there anything I can get you two?”

  They’d helped her pack a bag in case the worst scenario occurred, but she wasn’t happy even thinking about being attacked again. They’d also insisted she keep an ice pack on her face for twenty minutes out of every hour. The doctor was right. It had brought down the swelling.

  “We’re good. Sleep tight.”

  As she headed back to her room, she was tempted to ask Drake to stay in her room with her, but that would be inappropriate. After Liz’s Christmas party last week, where she’d first met them, her dreams had centered around these two. While Drake had only lightly kissed her on the cheek after she agreed to go on a date with them, he seemed to go out of his way to touch her arm, her back, and her hip. Twice, he’d replaced a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen on her face. Both had been so charming and seemingly carefree. Now all that had changed.

  They were here, not to seduce her, but to lure and capture Mendez. Not surprisingly, she actually felt safe with those two keeping watch.

  Once she entered her room, she checked to make sure her windows were locked and her drapes drawn. Though if someone really wanted to get in, they could break the window and turn the sash lock. The thought gave her chills.

  For her own safety, she left her bedroom door ajar, in case one of the men needed to warn her. She turned off her light and crawled into bed. She heard them talking, but after a while, their low voices lulled her to sleep.

  Too bad she kept waking up thinking a floorboard h
ad creaked or a window rattled. She’d strained to hear noises that shouldn’t be there. When all appeared normal, she’d dozed off again. Then she’d imagined two certain men in her bed and she’d awoken. By the time morning came, she was a total mess and exhausted. She was pleased she hadn’t relived the attack, as she feared she would. Her face throbbed and her body ached, but her arm wasn’t in as bad of shape as she had anticipated.

  As she stepped into the living room, the aroma of bacon, eggs, and coffee teased her nostrils. She didn’t have eggs in her house. That implied one of the men had gone to the store. Wasn’t that nice? Unlike most of her friends, she’d never had a live-in boyfriend. Even if she had, she doubted he would’ve taken the time to go to shop before she woke so she’d have food.

  She padded into the kitchen and found Drake at the stove, stirring the scrambled eggs.

  He turned and grinned. “Good morning.”

  “Is it?”

  “Darlin’, didn’t you sleep well?”

  She refrained from commenting on his nickname for her. “On and off. You?”

  “We’re not quite like humans. We sleep hard and wake quickly. Kurt and I took turns keeping watch.”

  That made her feel better. “Where is Kurt?”

  “He’s getting briefed on what comes next.”

  She sorted through her own plans. “I’m supposed to show that house to Bob and Mary Campbell today at 4:00 p.m.” But first she had to catch up on some work in the office. “If I do, will the place look like someone was murdered there?”

  “If you’re worried about it looking like a crime scene, I assure you, it won’t.”

  That was a relief. “Do you have a problem with me working today?”

  “I don’t see why not.” He looked up from the frying pan. “As long as you promise not to mention what happened there to anyone.”

  She swallowed. “That won’t be a hard rule to follow. I’ve already wiped my brain clean.”

  He quirked a brow. “How’s that working for you?”

  As much as she didn’t want to like the man any more than she already did, she fell for him a little more each time he made her laugh. “Not well, but I’m trying.”