her to her feet as she cried out at the pain.
“There you are, pretty girl,” a dark, sinister voice crooned, his curved canines flashing in the dark as black eyes gleamed with malicious pleasure. “Wanna be my chew toy?”
“Not yet.” The voice that came out of the dark sent a searing surge of bitter betrayal tearing through her.
The Coyote quickly jerked her around to face the man who spoke: Arthur Holden. But standing beside him was Theodore Ranger, and in their eyes she saw the promise of pain.
“Let’s go,” Ranger ordered, nodding to the back door. “Before we’re seen.”
Pain exploded in her head then, stealing consciousness and hope.
Her last thought . . .
What happened to Cullen . . . ?
Cullen felt Chelsea’s sudden silence. It wasn’t like sleep where he could sense her peace or her calm. She was suddenly just gone.
Minutes later the back door opened, the scents of the three passing mingled with Chelsea’s. The fury already raging through him exploded with greater force at the scents he identified. Arthur and Ranger and with them a Coyote Breed whose malignant scent and stench of old blood marked him as a Council Breed.
As they passed, carrying his mate, strength surged through him, Primal power and strength erupting beneath his flesh. Claws tore through the tips of his fingers, stripes burned across his flesh and a consuming, insane rage pushed the last of the effects of the paralytic from his body.
Distantly, he realized the shock Draeger experienced as Cullen flipped to his feet and into a crouch. He heard the sound of a heli-jet that had landed just after he went down and was powering up, preparing to lift off.
Launching himself toward the black craft, he ran across the property behind his house, a roar ripping from his throat. The heli-jet lifted from the ground as he neared it, gaining altitude even as he pushed himself up, springing toward the aircraft with another enraged roar.
He almost managed to secure a fingerhold.
Almost.
A feline scream shattered the night as he hit the ground and the heli-jet shot through the night sky, taking his mate with it.
With his teeth bared, the furious guttural sound tore from his throat, echoing through the night as his twin appeared beside him.
They’d taken his mate.
“Get the Runner,” Graeme snarled. “She has a tag under her skin and I have the tracker. We’ll find her, Cullen. I promise you, we’ll find her.”
Chelsea came awake slowly, fighting the nauseating pain in her head. Arthur and Ranger hadn’t given a damn about damage, had they? She could feel her eye already swelling, throbbing horribly right along with her head.
Concussion maybe. Several deep bruises, nothing broken, and she was fucking cold. Of course, she wasn’t exactly dressed for strolling through the desert night.
“Our little chew toy’s awake.” A sinister chuckle sent a chill racing up her spine. “We’ll get to play soon.”
Forcing back a shiver, she told herself Cullen would be there soon. He’d come for her as soon as he realized she was gone.
“Open your eyes, bitch.” A kick to her thigh, hard enough to pull an involuntary cry from her lips that was met with a low chuckle.
Chelsea glared through the tangle of hair that fell over her eyes. The longer they waited to kill her, the better her chances of survival.
The other two Coyotes weren’t alone at the low fire—drinking coffee, and that coffee smelled almost good; sitting with them were Arthur and Ranger.
“Look how angry those eyes are,” Arthur sighed. “As though she has a right to that anger.”
She had a right to her anger. Of course, she wasn’t the crazy one.
“You made all this incredibly easy, Chelsea,” Arthur told her, regret filling his tone and his expression. “Though I had actually decided to let you live, to let my anger go. Until Cullen mated you.”
The two Coyotes sitting at the fire watched her with cold, unblinking eyes.