Rescued & Ravished: An Alpha's Conquest (A Paranormal Ménage Romance) (4 page)

“You bet she did,” was Hudson’s terse answer. “The shed, Chance. Is the shed clear? Can I put her there?”

“What happened to her?”

“Slid and hit her head, trying to run from me,” Dove whimpered, looking overwhelmed. “The slopes get so slick when it rains.”

“Couldn’t just leave her,” Hudson said, squeezing the girl’s rainjacketed middle. “Even
if
she sprayed me right in the fucking face with that… that poison.”

“No,” Chance agreed. “You couldn’t. The shed’s cleaned out, come on. Egan, can I have that lantern? Thanks. Dove, don’t follow us, go get Ivy! Tell her to bring her healing things!”

He carried the lantern high, lighting his and Hudson’s way through the driving spring rain. The wind was making a whipping sound through Gentian and Egan’s garden; he could hear the goats complaining in their shack and the chickens gossiping in their coop.

There was the shed. It wasn’t locked; he shouldered it open, put the lantern on a dusty shelf, and gestured Hudson in.

“Shit. No bed?”

“No. Didn’t get around to making something up. Hold on, I’ll get her pack. She had a sleeping bag strapped on, didn’t she?” He was gone before Hudson could argue, racing across the slippery yard to the porch and back again with the pack. It felt like it would be heavy doings for a human girl to carry, she must be strong. “Here. It’s in a waterproof roll, it—”

He stopped dead, midsentence.

This was the girl from his dream, he was sure of it. In the lantern light, he could see her clearly for the first time: blonde, beautiful, and built like a fantasy. Wide hips, generous thighs, a small waist.

“Chance? Are you listening, man?”

“What?” He blinked. “Sorry. What were you—”

“She’s pretty, I know,” Hudson said, direct as always. “But stay focused. It’s true the Season’s got us stupid, but we have to clean her up and settle her.”

“Right. ‘Course.” He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears; it was too fast, too hard. Hudson thought he saw the girl as merely pretty. He didn’t know that Chance had
dreamed
her. What did that make him? Did he have the sight? Was it just coincidence? “How’s she feel? Cold?”

“Cold? I don’t know.” Hudson gripped one of the girl’s hands from where he’d laid her out on a worktable. “Kind of. She doesn’t feel dead, though, if that’s what—”

“Out of my way.” Suddenly, Ivy was there, shoving through them. She still smelled like onions. “This must be her. Move back, Hud, I—oh wow, your face. You’ll be patient number two.”

“We’ll see about that,” Hudson muttered, moving back.

Ivy held her palm close to the girl’s face, over her nose and mouth, then she leaned over her, listening to her breathing. Dove had come up behind them and squirmed through the shed’s doorway, squeezing herself up against the wall behind Chance.

“Well?” Hudson asked.

“Hush.” Ivy tilted the girl’s head back gently.

“What are you doing?” Dove asked, sounding frightened.

“When you’re unconscious, you can’t control your muscles. You know what that means? It means you can choke on your tongue,” Hudson explained, darkly. “That’s why she’s doing her like that, Dove. To keep her tongue outta her airway.”

“Why is she in this shed, Chance? Is this where Jason told you to put her?” Delicately, so delicately, Ivy felt for the girl’s pulse in her neck. She sounded disapproving.

“It is,” Chance said, frowning slightly.

“She’s
human
, Ivy,” Hudson said sharply.

“She sprayed Hud, too,” Dove put in.

“Yes, that’s all obvious,” said Ivy, disinterestedly. “But she’s wet and she’s unconscious and she should be in someone’s home on a bed. No, don’t move her now! We don’t know what circumstances her brain is in. Dove said she hit her head—she did hit it, didn’t she, Dove?—so we… oh!”

All of them stared suddenly down at the girl.

“Is she coming around?” Chance came close to Ivy, but she put a hand on his powerful chest to keep him back.

“Don’t crowd me! Both of you men, get
back
! She’s only human. I can handle her!” She pointed toward the still-half-open shed door. “Dove, go and get Jason! Let him know what’s happening!”

Dove hesitated, but then she went at a run.

The unconscious girl’s blond eyelashes fluttered and then opened. For a second, her eyes were just whites, but then they were bright blue.

“Can you hear me, sweetie? Don’t move,” Ivy said smoothly. “You’re alright. You’re safe, honeycomb. Stay down.”

The girl stared at her, her blue eyes focusing. Chance had seen that color before, they were the same blue as the mountain forget-me-nots that bloomed up above the treeline. It was a beautiful blue.

“Who are you?” she asked in a thin, blank voice.

“I’m Ivy. I know medicine.” Ivy was staring into the girl’s eyes, critically She covered one eye, then the other; then she held up her hand. “How many fingers?”

“Four.”

“Four, right. What’s your name?”

“Harper. Harper Hanson.”

“Alliteration. Cute,” Hudson murmured to Chance. Harper’s eyes drifted to the side to follow his voice.

“Harper,” Ivy said. “Do you feel sick?”

“No.”

“Can you feel me touching your hand?”

“Yes?”

“Can you feel this? This?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

Gingerly, Ivy ran her hands through Harper’s hair, checking for damage to the skull. She peered at her ears and nose.

“Do you wanna sit up, Harper?”

“What about the bear?”

Chance glanced at Hudson, because
he
was the bear. But as he did, something occurred to him.

“Hey. You better get inside and tell Gentian this girl will need a warmer bed.” He leaned in closer. “Also, I don’t think nudity’s passable where she comes from, Hud. You better go before she sees you!”

“Shit. You’re right,” Hudson muttered back. “See you in a bit.”

“Don’t think about bears, honeycomb,” Ivy was saying to the girl. “Sit up—easy, easy. We’re going to get you somewhere warmer. Let me have a look at your neck.”

“I’m cold. It’s freezing.” Harper sat up slowly, stiffly. “Where’s… where is this?”

“You’re still in Banff,” Ivy said nonspecifically. She moved Harper’s hair to look at the back of her neck. “Let me know if you want to hurl.”

“I don’t… think I do.” Harper’s eyes, set in frames of thick blonde lashes, landed on Chance. Nervous heat flooded his body. It was half due to the Season, half due to something else. “Who’s that?”

“Nobody special,” Ivy said, throwing Chance a wry look. “His name’s Chance.”

“Chance MacFadden,” he corrected her, wanting this girl to have his full name. She blinked at him with her bright blue eyes, suspicious and afraid. “Do you think you can walk? I can carry you.”

“Carry me where?” Harper asked, frowning.

“He’ll carry you inside,” Ivy said smartly.

“This is ‘inside,’” Harper pressed. “Please, I want something more specific. Where are we? Where am I?”

“Don’t worry about that yet,” Chance said in his best, most reassuring voice. “You’re safe, you’re with friends. We just want to make sure you’re well before anything else.”

That calmed her down a little, but he was already seeing future problems. She was too inquisitive. It was a good thing he’d cleared out this shed, much as he hated to think it.

“Here, we’ll help you,” Ivy said, gripping Harper’s arm and helping her slide off the workbench. “How are your legs? How do you feel?”

“
Now
I feel a little sick,” Harper admitted, thickly; Chance was at her side immediately, putting an arm around her and holding her up.

“Just lean on me. We’ll get you inside.”

Having the girl so close to him made his head spin. She was soft and warm and her hair, even wet, smelled like some kind of fruit; his cock stirred obscenely, stupidly, and he thought
not now
—but they got her through the storm and across the yard, up onto the cabin porch.

“Gentian!” Ivy shouted. “Open the door and get out some linens! This girl’s drenched!”

“Where am I?” Harper asked again, sounding ill as Gentian flung open the door.

“Shush up, honeycomb. First let’s get you in and get you dry.”

Chance didn’t want to let go of her but he did so the women could lead her inside.

He wanted her back right away. The girl from his dream.

“Start from the beginning.”

Jason was seated at the head of Gentian and Egan’s dinner table, his pine needle tea untouched. To his right was Galangal, the elder; then Chance, Egan, Dove, Hud, and Ivy, who were also there and seated around the rectangle. Gentian was in one of the cabin bedrooms with Harper, helping her wash off.

“We were circling back to the notch—Ouch, Ivy, damn it!” Hudson cringed as Ivy wiped down his face with milk. She was brusque about it, medical. “Go easy!”

“Don’t whine,” she said, unmoved. “And keep your eyes open.”

“We were circling back to the notch when we spotted her,” Hud went on, frowning. “Smelled her first, actually. She smelled like humans always do—lotta synthetics, some cosmetics. You know. Anyway, she was coming up the slope towards the clan.”

“Alone?” Jason asked, tense.

“Alone,” Hud confirmed. “I thought I should run her off. I tried to.”

“Then she sprayed him,” Dove said, looking green. “It was awful, actually.”

“Awful for me,” Hud muttered. Ivy scrubbed at his eye.

“Do you think she knew of us? Was she coming here
for
us? Was she looking for us?!” asked Galangal, suspicious. He hadn’t touched his tea, either.

“She looked lost when we saw her,” Dove said, gnawing a finger. “Really lost. Dirty, actually, and kind of drifting, and her face was a little bit sad. And when she saw Hudson! She was scared. She was really scared.”

“Still, her aim was damn good,” Hudson said, finally pushing Ivy away. “She’s got a steady hand. Beaned me good. Maybe she
is
a hunter.”

Chance tried to think if the girl had said anything proving that she wasn’t there to hunt them, but she hadn’t.

Still, he didn’t think she was. He wouldn’t believe that.

It’d been years since they’d even heard a whisper of a Hunter in Banff—human trackers who’d made it their mission to eradicate shifters—and he couldn’t imagine that one was here now. There’d been no rumor of danger from further up or down the range; some other clan would’ve warned them if a Hunter
was in the territory.

“Maybe,” Jason said conservatively. “We haven’t heard of one bein’ up this way for years. Did she say her name?”

“Harper Hanson.” Chance folded his arms. “For what it’s worth, I think she’s just a hiker.”

“What should we do with her?” Egan asked. “You want us to keep her in our cabin, Alpha? We can do that.”

“Keep her in the shed,” Galangal urged. “We don’t know what she wants here, Alpha, or who she might be. Don’t let her do any harm to this clan! Think about it, she’s here at our weakest moment.
It’s the Season
! What if she’s a Huntress? Our men can’t think straight around a woman! She’ll destroy us!”

There was a chilled silence at this statement. It lengthened, until Jason clasped his big, calloused hands together on the tabletop.

“She
might
. Let’s not say she
will
, elder.” He finally took a measured sip of his tea. “Egan, tonight let her stay in your home. Watch her carefully. See if she’s got any mischief in her. If you get the merest idea that she has, wrestle her into the shed and we’ll deal with her from there.”

“Of course, Alpha!”

“Dove, go door to door. Let everyone know she’s here. Say cubs should stay indoors. Get Yarrow to come here and help watch the girl, too. She’s tough enough to deal with her.

“Hudson, as soon as it’s light and the storm’s done, run the range again. Make dead sure she came alone!

“Chance, I know she’s a woman, and I know it’s the Season, but I want you close to this cabin in case she gets mean. Will you sleep in the shed? Ivy, you stay with the girl. Stay with her all night. See if you can’t get her talking about herself to you or Gentian.”

“What lie do you want me to tell her?” asked Ivy, standing. “About us? About who we are?”

“Let her spin that tale for you,” said Jason cannily. “See who she suggests we are, and then run with her best guess. Fanatics, end-of-dayers, I don’t care what she thinks… agree with it, no matter how silly it makes us all sound.”

“Right, Alpha.” Ivy went to the woodstove and started serving some leftover soup into a bowl from where Gentian had left a pot simmering on one of the eyes. “I’ll handle her.”

“Good.” Jason stood too; that made all of them stand. “Let’s continue this in the morning. We’ll talk more then about our guest.” He paused. “Those of us able to sit together, anyway. I guess most of us’ll be in Season by tomorrow. You women might have to have your own meeting with my wife and her mother.

“That’s all. Everyone get to your errands, now. We’ll deal with this girl the right way, and we’ll do it safely—I swear.”

There was a rap on the door, and then it opened. Harper’s head shot up from where Gentian was helping her bathe.

“Hello,” said Ivy brightly, shouldering the door closed. She had what looked like a bowl of soup. “Lord, you’re all curves, aren’t you? I’m jealous.”

Harper flushed in the copper tub, which was a light, round, handled thing that had been carried in for her by a couple of men she barely got a look at. The only people she’d really spoken to were Gentian—a kindly, middle-aged woman—and Ivy, this pretty, freckled, onion-smelling girl carrying in a late dinner. She thought she remembered a few others, though, from when she was waking up… remembered them vaguely, anyway. A man? More than one man? Men?

“How do you feel?”

“I’m alright,” Harper said, letting Gentian washcloth her back.
What century do these people think it is? Copper tubs? Really? Where’s the running water?
“Um… you’re Ivy, right? You said… we’re in Banff? Still?”

“We are,” Ivy said breezily, setting the soup on the nightstand. Like the bed, the stand looked like it was made of raw aspen wood. “Gentian, is she bruised up back there?”