Phoenix Rising I (31 page)

Connor glanced at MacKenzie standing a few feet away, chewing on her fingernails. “Do you have a shotgun?”

“Aye.”

“Buckshot?”

“Aye. Rounds are triple ought buck.” Liam got to his feet, brushing hay and dirt from his knees. “Why?”

“I want you to keep watch through that window.” Connor nodded toward a small window by the barn door. “If it looks like I’m going to break free, you get in here and

give me as many rounds as you can.”

“The buckshot is lead. Not iron for Fae, and not silver for the werewolf.”

“It’ll slow me down enough for you to get MacKenzie to the main house where she’ll be safe.” Connor gritted his teeth against the fear of hurting her. He’d sooner end his own life than to take hers.

Liam blew out a sigh and nodded. “I’ll protect her with my life.”

As MacKenzie walked up to them, the men shared a look, then Liam said, “I’ll just be outside, then.” He gave Connor another nod and walked out of the barn. Once outside, he pushed the large doors closed and Connor heard the
thunk
as the wooden latch was dropped, securing the doors.

“You’re too close, MacKenzie.” Connor heard the feral quality of his voice and tried to clamp down on the beast. “Move back.”

“You won’t hurt me.” She had removed the dry and irritating contact lenses before they’d left the manor and her beautiful blue eyes sparkled with tears.

“MacKenzie, please. For me.” He shifted restlessly. His skin was crawling, tightening. His eyes burned and the nausea that preceded the change would have doubled him over if he hadn’t been chained to a thick post.

She took several steps back. “What can I do?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.” Pain spiked through him, like dozens of knives stabbing into him. He groaned, bowing his head, grinding his teeth against the agony. Bones cracked and lengthened, his skin rippled and stretched. He bellowed, jerking against the chains, fighting the change as he always did.

The bones and muscles of his face shifted. Fangs erupted from his gums and he tasted the bitter, coppery taste of his own blood. Closing his eyes, he threw back his head and the beast roared, the sound bursting from his chest as a ferocious howl. The closer the beast came to freedom, the deeper the man and his reasoning was pushed. He was aware on some level that he continued to struggle against his bonds, but it was as if he were an observer, not a participant.

Various scents assaulted him; the earthy scent of hay and cows permeating the barn, the soft, floral scent of love and compassion emanating from MacKenzie, and acrid scent of fear with darker undertones of resolve from Liam.

Thick, brown fur erupted over his entire body. He opened his eyes and swiveled his head to look at the lone human standing a few feet away. Her image was clear, in varying tones of white, black and gray, except for a dark red tinge of fear.

His tongue snaked out to lick along his elongated snout.

The beast would no longer be denied.

Chapter Seven

Mackey stared at the wolf creature chained to the post in the middle of the barn and thanked the gods--any and all of them, Christian, Pagan and in between--that Connor had insisted he be chained. She didn’t much like the way it--
he
--stared at her.

As if he hadn’t eaten in a very long time and she was the tastiest thing on the menu.

The chains rattled with his struggles and she backed up a few steps, one hand over her mouth. Golden eyes stared at her with feral intensity in a face that was more canine than human. Long, long fingers with sharp claws curled loosely at his sides.

His long snout sniffed loudly, the nostrils quivering, lips curling back over long, white, sharp teeth. A low growl emanated from him, setting the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention.

She swallowed. Hard.

“MacKenzie.”

Her eyes widened. Human words shouldn’t come from a face like that, yet he’d said her name. Was Connor the man still in there somewhere? Did he recognize her?

She took a tentative step forward. “Connor?”

Crimson tinted his eyes and his nostrils flared. “You … smell ...”

She blinked, eyebrows raised, and her sense of humor, not always appropriate, chose that moment to assert itself. “I smell? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Those red eyes narrowed.

“Kidding. I’m just kidding,” she muttered, putting more space between them again.

Connor snarled and jerked in his chains. Muscles bulged underneath fur, lips pulled back in a silent snarl as he strained against the unforgiving iron links. “Fae.”

Mackey stopped moving and he settled for a moment, staring at her with unblinking eyes. His mouth opened and he began panting. He growled and yanked at the chains. When they didn’t give, he threw back his head and howled.

At the hair-raising sound, she instinctively took several more steps back. His head jerked forward, his gaze fixing on her with frightening intensity. Snarling, he began struggling against his bounds in renewed ferocity. Within seconds, she saw blood coating the chains and dark fur at his wrists.

Biting her lip at the thought of him doing injury to himself, she held out her hands in supplication. “Connor, stop!”

An inhuman growl issued from his throat and he continued to twist against his bindings. Without thinking, Mackey walked closer to try to soothe him. “Connor.”

He stilled for a moment, his nostrils flaring as he seemed to be scenting her. His mouth opened and he growled, “Mine.” He renewed his struggles with increasingly violent twists and jerks.

She blinked. He was still in there. Somewhere amidst the beast, Connor was there. Just as she reached him, the chains around one wrist gave way. It seemed as if everything then slowed to a trickle in time: his long arm reaching for her, claw-tipped fingers curved, grasping; her tripping steps backward, trying to stay out of his clutches; the sound of the barn door opening and Liam’s harsh voice yelling her name.

“Mackey, get down!” Liam’s voice came from behind her, his pounding footsteps coming closer and closer. She turned to see him running toward her, a shotgun in one

hand. A shotgun he was swinging up to his shoulder as he got closer.

“Get down,” he shouted again.

She felt frozen. Knowing what Liam meant to do, that he meant to shoot Connor, she couldn’t drop to the ground. While the lead buckshot wouldn’t hurt him like iron, for his Fae side, or silver, for the werewolf, would ... “no. I won’t let you hurt him.”

Another snarl from Connor, then her head was jerked back and she was dragged flush against his body. Heat rolled off of him, saliva dripped onto her cheek from his open mouth. Unable to turn her head because of his grip in her hair, she nevertheless saw the glint of sharp white teeth in her peripheral vision.

Dear Mother
. It appeared Queen Una had been wrong, after all. There was just enough Fae in Mackey for Connor to be a danger to her.

And, once again, her sense of humor reared up, sending one word to her lips.

“Oy.”

“Goddammit, MacKenzie. I told you to get down.” Liam stood a few feet away, the shotgun at the ready, his pale eyes narrowed as he stared through the gun sight.

“Don’t … don’t hurt him.” The hand in her hair tightened and she winced. Liam looked at her like she was daft, and she couldn’t say she blamed him.

With a sudden movement, Connor jerked her head to the side and bit down into the juncture of her throat and neck. Pain shrieked through her and she cried out and tried to struggle against his strong hold.

Liam surged forward with a battle cry that would have done ancient Celtic warriors proud. She saw the flash of the shotgun as he swung it around and butted Connor in the head with the hard wooden stock. Connor snarled, but didn’t loosen his grip. Another strike with the gun stock and Mackey was free.

Liam jerked her away from Connor, shoving her behind him and raising the shotgun to his shoulder, aiming at the struggling werewolf. “Start backing up, slowly,” he instructed in a low voice.

Mackey slapped one hand over the wound in her neck, feeling woozy from blood loss. Although she’d like to believe Connor would have turned her loose before he truly hurt her, she had a feeling her friend’s timing was crucial. “Liam--”

“Mackey, for the love of God. Would you for once in your life just do as you’re told without questioning everything?” Liam didn’t take his eyes off of Connor, but Mackey was under no illusion as to the depth of his irritation.

“Liam--”

“He asked me to do this, lass.” Liam put one arm to the side and started backing up, herding her along with him.

“Asked you to do what?” Mackey reluctantly went, her hand still at her neck, blood trickling between her fingers.

“Shoot him to protect you. He said the buckshot would slow him enough for me to get you to the house.” When Connor howled again and jerked his other wrist free from its restraint, Liam’s body grew rigid. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Connor roared, struggling out of the remaining chains, then came at them at a full run. Mackey screamed. Liam cursed and aimed the shotgun, pulling the trigger and firing both rounds. Connor jerked and stumbled to one knee.

Liam ejected the spent cartridges and loaded two more into the chamber, snapping the gun closed. Before Connor could rise to both feet, Liam shot him again.

Connor yelped and fell to the hay-strewn floor. Mackey cried out. Liam turned and wrapped one arm around her, holding her off the ground as she struggled to get to Connor. “Let me go! Let me go!”

“No.” He looked at the werewolf lying motionless on the ground. “In this I agree with him.” When she continued to struggle, he hoisted her over his shoulder and strode out of the barn. “I’m getting you somewhere safe.”

He paused at the door and looked back. “Well, safer than here, at any rate.”

* * * *

Mackey paced toward the bedroom door, scowling at Liam as he stood sentry with his back against the door. “Shouldn’t you be looking that way?” she asked, gesturing toward the door. “Watching out for the big, bad wolf?”

His brows dipped. “I don’t trust you not to knock me over the head with something, in the mood you’re in.”

“You’d deserve it, that’s for certain.” She walked back to the bed and plopped down on the edge. “He’s been out there for hours. He could be dead ...” Her voice choked on a sob and she stuffed one knuckle between her teeth, biting down.

“To save your life.” Liam sighed. “Holy Mother of God, Mackey. He was
biting
you.”

“I don’t think he was trying to hurt me, Liam.” The more she thought about it, the more she was certain. Even though her neck was sore and she knew she’d have a lasting scar from the experience, he could have bitten a little higher up, piercing her jugular, if he’d wanted to kill her.

“He. Bit. You.”

She sighed. “I know. I know. Thank you for … saving me.”

“Even though you don’t think it was necessary.” His voice was dry, not as tight. She sent him a small smile. He never could stay angry with her for long. It wasn’t in his nature.

“Hmm.” Her smile faded. “He’d better be okay. Or you’re both in trouble.”

They fell silent for several minutes. Then, because she had trouble letting it go, she muttered, “You shot Connor.”

“I shot a goddamned werewolf.” He flipped his wrist, checking his watch, then tilted his head to peer through the window. “Dawn will be here soon, and we’ll be all right. Until tonight. Assuming he changes back once the moon’s gone down, that is.”

Mackey realized Connor had never said, but it seemed to her that would be how it worked. “He only talked about the moon affecting the change, so I think ...”

Hearing something bump against the outside wall, she trailed off. She rose from the bed and turned to look out of the window.

“What is it?” Liam asked. In the reflection in the glass, she saw him swing the shotgun to his shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Mackey took a few steps down, stopping at the end of the bed. “I thought I heard something.” Even though dawn was beginning to break, it was still dark enough that she couldn’t see anything with the bedroom being reflected back at her in the window. “Turn off the lights.”

The light switch clicked and the room was cloaked in darkness. Mackey had a glimpse of glowing red eyes just before a big, furry body came crashing through the glass. When he straightened, his gaze trained on her, his clawed hands clenched at his

sides.

“
Shit
.” She heard Liam come closer, then he pushed her behind him.

A low growl rumbled from Connor. He started forward, then paused. He shuddered, whimpered, and fell to his knees. Another whimper left him and he doubled over. The fur rippled along his back. Bones cracked, the sound vicious and loud in the shocked stillness of the room.

He cried out, stretching out on the floor, then curling up in a fetal position. His face was a portrait in agony, mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut. A low, long groan rumbled from his chest and he shuddered again. Once. Twice.

The fur melted into his skin, his muscles and bones reformed into human shape, and Mackey stared at a panting and very naked Connor lying on the floor.

“Oh, God.” Mackey ran to him and dropped to her knees. When she touched his shoulder, he jerked away from her and muttered something she couldn’t hear. She grabbed his shoulder and turned him to his back. Gasping, she lightly touched his chest, where the third and fourth shotgun blasts had caught him. Other than some light bruising, his flesh was unmarred. Even the blood was gone.

“Here.” Liam draped a blanket over Connor, then turned to Mackey. “I’ll be in the office with Angus if you need me.” His big hand lightly squeezed her shoulder. Turning, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Mackey bent over Connor, brushing sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. “Connor?”

“Don’t.” His voice was thick, harsh. “I’m not worthy of your touch.”

“You’re not ...” Mackey sat back on her haunches and planted her palms on her thighs. What the hell was going on in his mind? Was this just because she’d seen him go furry? “You didn’t seem to feel that way when you were boinking me.”