Finding Chrissten: Legacy, Book 5 (3 page)

Hank’s lips pulled back from his teeth and a low snarl was torn from his throat. He was on the hunt. His body settled into battle mode, ready for anything. He reached out to his wolf, using every advantage at his disposal, heightening his senses.

He knew he was alone but still moved carefully over the hard-packed ground toward a doorway. He slowly turned the handle and eased the door open, cringing when it made a slight popping sound. Years of damp had warped the wood, making it stick to the frame.

A tiny sound caught his attention. A whimper. His head whipped around to the left and he noticed a door with two locks on it. Chrissten. It had to be her. The beat of his heart went from steady to a gallop in under a second as adrenaline surged through his veins.

Before he could take a step toward the locked door a large male appeared at the far end of the hallway. He was a big fucker with broad shoulders and long brown hair. His scent reached Hank, igniting a molten fury inside him. It was a scent he knew well from Chrissten’s blanket, the one he’d taken from her last prison cell. Brian. The male who’d violated Chrissten.

Hank didn’t think, didn’t pause. He attacked.

But this was no human he was fighting. This was a pureblooded werewolf, and he was more than ready to fight. Hank knew the other male wanted it. Craved it as much as Hank did.

They ran at one another, fangs bared, hands tipped in claws as they both partially shifted into their wolf form.

Hank went in low and swiped at Brian’s belly, but Brian turned at the last second and lashed out, catching Hank in the shoulder and raking away shirt and skin. The scent of blood, rich and coppery, mingled with the other pungent smells in the hallway. Hank could feel the warm liquid trickling down his arm.

He shook off the minor injury. Nothing else mattered but rescuing Chrissten. Not even his own life.

Hank allowed instinct to take over. He’d been a fighter all his life, long before he’d discovered his heritage. The other male might be a pureblood, but Hank fought mean and dirty, with no holds barred. He fought to win.

He lashed out at Brian with claw-tipped hands. The other male jumped back, hitting the wall so hard it caused little flecks of dust to rain down upon them like fine snow. Hank blinked to clear his vision. He needed to get Brian away from the door with the locks, away from Chrissten.

Hank roared his anger. No need to be quiet now. The others would have heard the beginnings of their fight. In the distance, Hank could hear the pounding of feet as the others hurried to join him.

Brian heard them coming too. He snarled, exposing brutally sharp fangs. “This isn’t over.” Warning given, Brian turned and ran. Hank started to give chase but a faint female voice stopped him.

“Is anyone there? Oh God, is there someone out there?”

Everything inside him came to a standstill. Something deep within Hank’s soul shifted and realigned before locking into place. Chrissten.

“Get away from there.” The male voice had him whirling around and instinct had him ducking. Something swooshed by his head and embedded itself into the wall behind him. A bullet. No, a tranquilizer dart. Hank’s nostrils flared at the sight of the man who had to be Dr. Phillip Morton.

He prowled toward the doctor, determined to make him pay for what he’d done. The doctor raised the tranq gun again. Before he could fire it, Damek appeared in front of him, grabbing the weapon from the human’s hands.

“Who do we have here?” The vampire’s expression was so feral that Hank almost felt sorry for the doctor. Almost. Damek shoved the doctor back into the room he’d stepped out of. The door slammed shut behind them.

Quinn barreled down the hallway, shoved Hank aside and hurried to the locked room. Claws extended, he attacked the two locks. Hank hurried to help him and quickly realized they’d probably need a crowbar to get past the locks. Within a split second his brain had sorted through his options. “Pull on the door.” He grabbed the handle and yanked on it, using the full force of his big body.

Quinn continued to beat at the locks, but in the end it was the wooden door that gave first under the strain. Hank fell back as the door flew toward him, scraping against the concrete floor as it was pulled back.

Quinn pushed past him and called his sister’s name. “Chrissten?” The raw emotion in his voice brought tears to Hank’s eyes. He blinked several times and stepped back, angling his body so he could see into the room.

He didn’t see her at first. There was nothing here except a bundle of rags on the floor in the far corner. He took a second look. The rags were moving.

Quinn arrowed in on the mound and went straight to it. “Chrissten?” His voice was soft, almost fearful.

The bundle moved slightly. Quinn swooped in and scooped her into his arms, burying his face against her. He stood slowly, took a deep breath and strode out of the room and into the hallway.

As he passed by, Hank strained to get a better look. He wanted to reach out and touch a lock of dirty blond hair that had escaped the bundle. It was Chrissten.

Hank could hear her labored breathing. One of her arms slipped from beneath the blanket covering her. It was mottled with dirt and bruises.

He wanted to howl and roar and kill. A red haze filled his vision and he growled low in his chest. His fingers itched to touch her. His arms ached to hold her. He wanted to be the one carrying Chrissten out of her prison. He swallowed back his fury, vowing to track down Brian and kill him like the rabid dog he was. That was something he
could
do. Hank would set Chrissten free of that monster if it was the last thing he did.

He followed closely behind as Quinn carried his sister up the stairs and out of the building. The others were quiet, except for Bethany, who was crying softly. No one said anything about Damek not being with them on the trip back. They trusted him to get whatever information he could and handle the doctor in whatever fashion he saw fit.

Quinn loaded himself and his sister into the SUV. It took all Hank’s restraint not to push his way into the vehicle. He wanted, no needed, to be next to her, to assure himself she was all right.

He’d have to wait. Right now all that mattered was her safety. Plus, he didn’t think Quinn would be very understanding if he ripped his sister from his arms. Hank kept his eye on the SUV as it sped through the last of the night. Dawn was almost breaking by the time they reached Haven.

Chrissten heard a voice calling her name. She frowned, recognizing the voice. The floor wasn’t as hard as it usually was. No, that wasn’t right.

Everything was a muddle. She’d thought she’d heard someone outside her cell. Someone she knew. Someone she recognized. His scent. That was it. She’d recognized his dark, musky scent and had called out to him.

But he hadn’t answered.

A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye and trailed down her face.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’ve got you.”

Chrissten blinked. She was hallucinating again. Had to be. She hadn’t heard her twin in so long. He sounded different. Older. Tired. She turned her head slightly and there he was. But it wasn’t exactly like Quinn. His hair was longer too. That wasn’t right.

“Your hair is long.”

She heard a laugh that sounded more like a sob and turned her head to see who was laughing at her. The man looked like an older version of her younger brother. It was Craig, but not the Craig she remembered.

“You’re old.” That’s not what she meant to say. She meant to say older, but it took a lot of energy for her to speak.

“I feel old,” he told her. He placed his hand on her forehead, leaned down and kissed her cheek. “We’ve got you, sis. You’re going to be fine.”

“Craig?” It really was her brother with his wire-rimmed glasses, sandy brown hair and tender smile.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Quinn?” Where was her twin?

“Right here, Chris. I’m right here.” He was the only one who called her Chris, insisting that he’d wanted a twin brother not a sister. Not that she believed that for one second. They’d always been incredibly close.

It was his arms cradling her. It was his lap she was sitting on. Not the cold floor. Not her prison cell. She was free.

“Is this real?” She was almost afraid to believe it. Wasn’t sure it wasn’t all just a dream or a hallucination brought on by her failing body.

“It’s real.” She recognized the voice and the face that belonged to it. Bethany Morris leaned over her, a smile on her face. “I told you I’d come back for you.”

Chrissten could sense they were moving. They must be in a vehicle. There were other people here too. Two more. She could smell them, a male and a female, and they were werewolves.

She started to panic. Were her brothers and Bethany in danger? She thrashed around, trying to sit up so she could see. She had to protect her family.

“Shhh. Stop it, Chris. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

She grabbed Quinn’s arm, she had to make him understand. “Danger.” She sniffed the air again. Why couldn’t he smell them? Damn, she hated the weakness pulling at her limbs, at her mind.

“No, you’re safe. The other people in the vehicle are friends. Do you understand? No one is going to hurt you anymore.”

As long as her brothers were safe she didn’t care. She was afraid she wasn’t going to make it. She felt as though she already had one foot out of this world and into the afterlife. Everything seemed to be filtered though a gauzy curtain. She was here but not here.

She sniffed again. Where was the dark, musky scent? The one she associated with safety? Had she imagined it?

“Where is he?” The words were little more than a whisper in spite of the energy she put behind them. Everything was difficult for her, even something as simple as talking. But she needed to know, needed to find out if the male was real.

A gentle hand pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “You don’t need to worry about anything.” Quinn’s voice was low and soothing. “The doctor is no longer a threat and I’m not going to let anyone or anything hurt you ever again.”

Quinn hadn’t understood her question. He didn’t know who she was searching for. And she couldn’t tell him. She didn’t know either.

She heard his promise, but she heard more in the words he wasn’t saying. Brian was still alive. He was out there somewhere and he would be coming for her. She didn’t know if she had the strength to fight him. Maybe it would be better if she died. She was so tired of the battle.

Even as she thought it, a part of her rebelled. She was a fighter. Always had been. Always would be.

Her wolf whimpered and she struggled to reassure it. They would get stronger. They would hide until she was strong again. Then she would hunt Brian herself and kill him. It was the only way for her to ever truly be free.

The vehicle hit a bump, jolting her. She cried out as every ache in her body made itself known. The world around her dimmed and she let herself fall into the blackness. Quinn would keep her safe until she was strong enough to do it for herself.

As she drifted away from reality she thought she caught a whiff of the dark, tantalizing smell. She went searching for it in her mind but found only a void.

Chapter Three

Hank sat on the floor in the corner of his bedroom, his back against the wall, and watched the bed. Chrissten was sleeping, but not soundly. Every few minutes she would whimper or mutter something he couldn’t quite make out.

He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms, promise to protect her from anyone and anything that wanted to harm her. Yeah, like that would go over well. She’d probably wake screaming and bring all the other males running.

Still, a guy could dream. He liked the idea of her lying in his bed, sleeping on his sheets, her head cradled by his pillow. Yeah, she belonged there. If he couldn’t hold her in his arms he could at least wrap her in his blankets.

Outside the city went on as normal. Cars and trucks sped up and down the street. People walked to and fro, all going somewhere in a hurry. Someone yelled in the distance. Music from the club two floors down vibrated the floorboards beneath him.

Inside the apartment, life was anything but normal. He couldn’t believe Chrissten was in his bed. Of course, he wasn’t there with her, but that didn’t matter. He had all the patience and time in the world.

No one would understand the instantaneous attraction he’d felt for Quinn’s sister. He wasn’t certain he totally understood it himself. He sure as hell wasn’t about to tell Quinn or any of the other males of the pack.

All he knew was that Chrissten stilled the restlessness inside him. She was like a missing piece of a puzzle, completing him.

It sounded corny as hell and he’d never say the words out loud, but they were true.

Hank had always relied on his instincts to guide him. Had done so long before he’d known what he truly was. And right now his instincts were screaming at him that this was his woman. His mate.

Problem was she’d been brutalized, held captive and claimed by another male.

But Hank had always been good at figuring out problems, and he wasn’t a quitter. He’d find a way to deal with all the myriad difficulties ahead.

The priority right now was Chrissten’s health.