Thunder (Alpha Love - a Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance Book 3) (15 page)

“I don’t have it here. But I can get it!” She’s lying, she has no idea how she can get it, but she needs to buy time, time to get out of Beaumont and disappear. It was the only option left for her. They would never stop looking for her, which meant that she would always be running. Running was better than dead. But that meant leaving Ashton behind and leaving the pack to deal with Luke and Shale on their own. Would she be able to forgive herself for abandoning them? She already knows the answer to that question.

“How soon are we talking?” He brings something out of his pocket. Even in the dim light she can see that it’s a switchblade. She jumps as the knife flicks out, shining, full of menace.

“Soon, maybe a day or two.” She’s speaking quickly, saying whatever she thinks is going to get the Collector out of her room and her out of danger. Her gaze flicks between the blade and his face.

“Dr. Braun, I’ve been doing this for a long time. I don’t even want to tell you how long, it makes me feel old!” His shoulders move as he chuckles nostalgically to himself. “And you know one of the things that I’ve gotten really good at during that time?” Sofie shakes her head,
no
. She doesn’t trust herself to speak. “Knowing when people are telling me the truth.”

The Collector looks at her knowingly and starts pacing up and down in front of her, like he’s delivering a lecture or a sermon. “You see, everyone has a tell, something that gives them away. Whether they know it or not, they have it. For some people it’s a narrowing of the eyes, for some it’s a nervous laugh or smile. It doesn’t matter what it is, over the years I’ve gotten real good at identifying it with an almost 100% success rate.” He seems proud of himself, and Sofie wonders if he’s expecting her to clap or something.

“Why are you telling me this?” She keeps her head held high, hoping that her show of confidence will go some way to proving to him that what she’s saying is true and that he will get his money.

“Well, it’s pretty simple, really. I’m just trying to explain to you how I know that you’re lying.” The Collector looks at her as he says the words, and Sofie tries not to react, tries not to even blink. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, Dr. Braun, so I know you better than a lot of my other…clients.” He smiles at his use of the word. “Which means that there’s no way that I am going to walk out of this room just because you’ve said you can get me the money. We both know that’s not true, now don’t we?” He steps towards her, peering into her face.

Sofie can feel her whole body shaking with fear. “It is. I can get it for you.” Her voice is trembling. She sounds so small, like a little child, like Luke’s little damaged bird. She hates being so powerless, but she can’t will her body to get over her terror.

“Don’t lie to me, Dr. Braun. I really don’t like being lied to.” He shakes his head, waving the switchblade in the same motion.

“I’m not—” she starts but he doesn’t let her finish.

Suddenly, he’s in her face, bellowing at her. “Don’t lie to me!” His face is so close to hers, she can feel the spit landing on her cheek. He relaxes, as if he just really needed to get that tirade out and looks at her apologetically.

She wonders if all men that do these kinds of jobs have to be sociopaths as well as morally compromised or if they just got lucky with this guy. He advances towards her, and she keeps stepping back until she hits the wall behind her. She looks around her, from side-to-side for anything that she can take hold of to protect herself, but there’s nothing within arm’s reach. He’s backed her into a corner, and there’s no way out.

“We have what I like to think of as a company policy. We think it’s important to send messages to our…clients, so that there’s no misunderstanding.” He looks at Sofie to make sure that she’s following him. “I want you to know that this isn’t personal, it’s just business. And, if it got out, that someone was stiffing us and trying to disappear without paying what they owe, well that would be bad for business. We have to make it known that my associates and I, if you’ll pardon my language, are not to be fucked with.”

“Please, just give me a little time.” She hates the supplication in her voice, but it might be the only thing to get her out of this.

“Time’s up, Dr. Braun.” He grabs hold of her shoulders, squeezing them hard.

She tries to push him away, but he’s strong, much stronger than he looks. She uses anything she can, to get him off of her, her teeth, her nails. But he pushes her back up against the wall, hitting her head against it, stunning her a little. He has hold of her arms, and he’s shaking her.

She grapples with him, throwing her elbow out, and there’s a grunt as it connects with his chin. She can feel heat radiating through her, starting in her chest. She looks down at the necklace she’s wearing, her hand closing over it. It’s the rock. It’s heating up, hot as fire, but it doesn’t burn her.

It doesn’t take long for the Collector to recover, and when he does, he barrels towards her, throwing all of his weight behind him. The anger in his eyes is visible, and he raises his hand holding the knife, bringing it closer to her face. She uses all of her strength to push his hand away, kneeing him in the groin and watching as he doubles over in pain.

She looks over at the door. She knows that this the only chance she’s going to get. She takes a few steps, running towards her way out, but before she can get to it, a hand closes around her ankle, and she tumbles to the ground. She starts to scream for help, for anyone. That makes him even angrier. He straddles her, covering her mouth with his hands to muffle her screams.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you Dr. Braun? I didn’t think you had it in you.” He sounds impressed but clearly not enough to let her go. “Now, just hold still, I wouldn’t want to miss and cut your eye out.” He smiles at her gravely, communicating what a shame it would be if he blinded her while trying to cut her face.

She ignores him, squirming and kicking her legs out, trying to get him off of her, but it’s game over. He’s stronger than she is, and he clearly has no plans to let her go. The blade is moving closer and closer to her cheek, and she steels herself for the moment when he slashes her. She’s determined not to make a sound, she won’t give him the satisfaction. But just as she feels the cold steel against her skin, the rock around her neck burns hotter still until it gives out a burst of light. It’s so bright she has to close her eyes against it.

But, it’s not just a light, it’s a wave of energy that spreads out from the necklace, hitting the Collector and throwing him to the floor across the other end of the room. It’s as if an invisible hand has punched him, hard. Sofie’s mouth drops open at what she’s just witnessed, at what has just happened. But there’s no time for her brain to analyze what she’s just seen. The Collector is already pushing himself up to his feet, still somewhat unstable. He has a look of shock about him, but it’s not enough to stop him from doing what he came here to do.

Slowly, grimly, he starts advancing on her as she scrambles up to her feet, taking hold of the necklace in her hand and trying to figure out how to make him fly across the room again. She imagines him soaring through the air and holds onto the necklace for dear life, but nothing happens, he just keeps getting closer to her. She plants her feet on the ground, ready to fight, ready to kick and ball and scream and do whatever she had to do to make this as difficult for the Collector as possible. He reaches out and grabs hold of her hair, twisting it and forcing her head towards him. She wriggles and tries to pull away from him, but he has a tight hold on her and clearly has no intention of letting go. That’s when there’s a deafening bang, and her door is almost kicked off its hinges.

He moves so quickly, it takes her a moment to realize that it’s Ashton who’s running into her room at full speed. He pulls the Collector off of her, throwing him to the ground as if he were made of feathers. Ashton looks around the room, taking in the situation in a matter of moments. He looks at Sofie who has plastered herself up against the wall, her arms red from where the man has been holding her, shaking her. He sees the blade in the other man’s hand and the way that he gets to his feet with practiced ease. It was clear that this guy isn’t someone that’s stumbled on Sofie; he’s a professional there to hurt her.

The thought makes Ashton’s blood boil, and he feels the anger rise up inside of him, filling him to the brim. The Collector tightens his grip on the knife and rushes at Ashton, thinking that the big man won’t have time to move out of the way of the blade. But Ashton sidesteps gracefully, not even breaking a sweat as he punches the man to the ground. Ashton’s rage won’t be contained; it makes it hard for him to think, hard for him to see anything other than what it wants him to do.

His eyes flash gold; all trace of blue is gone. He pulls the dazed Collector up from the ground, ramming him against the wall. The Collector barely has time to put his hands up before Ashton starts punching him. He doesn’t stand a chance. Ashton’s fist is like a jackhammer, pulling pack and punching the man in the head again and again, over and over again.

The Collector has stopped even trying to defend himself. The only movement that he makes is a twitching of his fingers as Ashton’s fist connects with his face, hitting him without pausing for breath. There’s a sickening sound of bone crunching and the noise wakes Sofie out of the daze that she has been in, watching Ashton decimate this man as if hypnotized.

“Ashton, stop it! Stop! You’re killing him!” She shouts but her voice is hoarse. The squishing sound of Ashton’s fist connecting to the Collector’s head makes Sofie’s stomach roll. She feels the urgent need to be sick.

Ashton ignores her, not even reacting to the sound of her voice, as if he can’t hear her. She charges up behind him. Holding onto his arm so he can’t move in for another blow. “Ashton, stop! It’s enough!” She puts the little energy she has left into pulling his arm as hard as she can.

It has the desired effect. He stops pummeling the Collector’s bloody head, but he rounds on her, fist raised, angry that she’s stopped him, angry that she’s interrupted what he needs to do. As he looks at her, breathing heavily, his face is twisted into a snarl, looking more animal than man. His eyes glow bright gold, and Sofie gets that feeling again, that feeling that he could really hurt her.

Seeing him like this, so out of control, brings to mind the dreams that she’s been having, the ones that have been coming night after night. She remembers him chasing her through the woods in wolf form, the way that the atmosphere changes from play to life-or-death. She feels like they’re on a knife edge, as if he might turn at any moment, as if he’s just a step away from being more wolf than man. She looks at Ashton, willing him to go back to being himself, willing him to keep the wolf at bay.

“Ash, it’s me. It’s alright. I’m alright.” She steps towards him, despite all the warnings in her head for her to stay away from him. She knows that if he transforms right now then all bets are off. She reaches out and touches his cheek, tracing the line of stubble on his jawline, like she always does, staring into his eyes. “Come back to me, Ashton. Come back.”

Sofie doesn’t know how long they stand like that. It could be seconds, minutes, hours. But slowly, gradually, Ashton’s golden eyes start to dim. The fists that his hands have made start to open, and his shoulders start to sag. As she looks at him, his eyes slowly return to their cornflower blue. He’s come back to her.

Ashton looks around, as if he’s not completely sure where he is or how he came to be here. Once Sofie is satisfied that he’s himself again, or at least close enough, she walks towards the slumped form of the Collector on the floor, propped up against the wall. His switchblade is still within reach, and she kicks it over to one side. If bad horror movies have taught her one thing, it’s that you should never assume the bad guy has been neutralized. That’s precisely the moment when he usually comes to for his last attack.

But this isn’t a movie. It’s real life, and the body in front of her doesn’t look like it’s in any danger of moving. She kneels down reaching her hand out to his neck, checking his pulse. She tries to focus on what she’s doing rather than on the metallic smell of blood that’s coming off of him or the fact that his face is unrecognizable and just a mess of flesh and bone.

The beat that she’s hoping to find isn’t there. She tries again, sure that she must be wrong. She lifts the cuffs up off his suit jacket and tries to feel a pulse there. But there’s nothing, nothing at all. He’s dead.

Sofie covers her mouth with her hands, tears springing to her eyes. She can’t believe what has just happened. She’s just witnessed a man being beaten to death. He was someone that was trying to hurt her, a bad man. But that didn’t make it okay. Her hands shake as she drops the Collector’s wrist. It lands on the floor and doesn’t move, completely lifeless.

She looks between the Collector’s hand, lying inanimate on the floor and Ashton’s knuckles which are dripping with blood. He stands where she left him, staring at the dead man on the floor. He seems to be in some kind of a daze, as if he can’t believe what he’s just done, as if it were someone else that that killed that man and he was powerless to stop it. Ashton had lost control in a big way, in a way that he hasn’t in a very long time.

When Sofie sees the state that Ashton is still in, she knows that she has to start making a plan. She forces herself to think clearly. She gets up and goes to the door that Ashton had banged open. She takes a deep breath and pokes her head out of the room, looking down the corridor. After all the noise, the screaming, the pounding she’s expecting someone to come running. But there’s no one. The corridor is dark, and there’s no sign of movement. The whole place has slept through everything that just went down in her motel room. She closes the door softly, taking a deep breath to try to collect herself before she turns around to face Ashton.