Still, he seemed to be protecting her. He backed up a step, and she did the same, reaching out to hold his arm as her heels slid again on something she’d rather not think about.
Her rescuer had beaten the stuffing out of those three punks. Like literally.
There were copious amounts of blood, not hers, ooze, a few actual teeth, and other crap on the pavement. She backed up another step and squeaked as she slid again. Fergie squeezed pony-tail man’s arm tighter.
The other man whom she thought of as her rescuer turned around at the sound. Having pummeled the last of the three assailants into dust, he was now free to come over and introduce himself. Or so she hoped.
Fergie wanted to whoop with joy! She was so happy to have gotten out of the whole thing relatively unscathed, and all thanks to him.
Can you say swoon? Fergie waited for him to meet her stare so she could thank him, but his focus seemed to be on where her hand gripped the other man’s arm. Letting go as if she’d been burned, she swallowed down the odd sensation of guilt that suddenly filled her.
“Storm, now listen up, cump, I just got her out of the way. I didn’t do a thing to her,” the man who’d picked her up off the ground had both his hands in the air as if in surrender, and she could certainly see why.
Her rescuer had steam coming out of his ears. Okay, not steam, but he seemed to be smoking. Again, literally, and she meant that in its correct sense, not the modern way of misusing and abusing the word.
Actual tendrils of black and gray smoke seemed to surround his body, and that wasn’t all. Electric blue lights glowed and circled his hands.
“Um, what’s going on?” she swallowed nervously.
“Storm, man, I swear,” pony-tail tried again.
All that begging didn’t help much. Her rescuer seemed to blink from the place he’d been standing to the space directly in front of her. He growled fiercely and drew back his bloodied fist, socking pony-tail man right in the face, while snarling a word that suspiciously sounded like mine.
Dizzy from her ordeal and from having the person she was leaning on so abruptly removed from her grasp, Fergie blinked rapidly as he turned to catch her. He wasn’t a lizard, but he was surely something else. Something other, she thought definitively.
His eyes glowed like little blue lasers and long fangs appeared when he opened his mouth. He was a bit furrier than before. His beard appeared thicker, and his once short, curly hair, longer now than it had been when she’d first spied the sexy warrior.
That wasn’t right. No, it was more than not right. It was impossible. A wave of dizziness swept over her, more than she should’ve felt from the minor blood loss. Her rescuer tightened his hold on her arms.
The last few minutes had been the craziest in her entire life. Maybe she needed a moment for her brain to catch up. Fergie held her spinning head with one hand and tried to catch her breath.
“Easy,” the stranger’s deep whisper sent chills through her body.
He released her slowly and held his hand out, his claw-tipped hand, in case she stumbled. Eyes wide, Fergie stared at the sharp looking appendage. The man frowned and closed his fist to hide his nails, but it was too late. She wobbled unsteadily and he raised his hand once more. This time, she squeaked.
“Sorry about that, it’s just my Wolf. He is still agitated,” he grumbled the explanation, but all she heard was the word wolf.
“I’m sorry, what?” she stopped and looked at him dead on.
“My Wolf,” he repeated.
“Ooh-kayy,” she knew her eyebrows were somewhere up in her hairline, but what else could she say.
Dizziness hit her again, and she blinked her eyes. Shit. This had never happened to her. Oh hell.
“Um, Mr. Wolf?” she cleared her throat.
“Yes,” he said one eyebrow quirked.
“I think, I’m gonna,” but that was all she got out before blackness swallowed her.
Well, damn.
Chapter 3
“Damn it, Storm,” Kingston Baldric, Dragon Shifter and leader of Storm’s unit frowned at him.
The Guardians of Chaos had few rules, but the ones they did have were important. Like the one about no unannounced visitors, especially of the human kind. But what was he to do? Storm held his ground while the Dragon growled from his position in the hallway of the Keep.
He wasn’t fool enough to answer the angry Dragon. He simply slipped past his leader with the woman from the lot cradled protectively in his arms. He stalked the hallways to his room. The door opened on its own, and he took that for the Keep’s blessing on his decision to aid the female.
He placed her down gently on his bed, already having refused to put her in any guest room. Not even their own medical examination room was good enough for her. She was his to help.
There were currently six Guardians in their unit and of the six, two were crowding his space. Storm was the sole Wolf Shifter. Furio, the Horse Shifter, had his head stuck inside the doorway. Kingston, the Diamond Dragon and their leader was growling and frowning from his stance.
Missing were Byram, the sole Vampire of the unit, Elena, a Panther and the only female, and Egros, a male Witch formerly of the Coven Realta. With Kingston’s mate there had been seven, but now that Neela had been stolen from them, their numbers had diminished by one.
The Keep, the name they called their castle, was located deep in the pine barrens of South Jersey. Their only neighbor was a Jersey Devil Shifter and his family, but other than that, they were a good hour from any city or town. The location was good for keeping their work a secret from the humans.
He normally didn’t mind the isolation of the Keep, or the way they all intruded on one another’s privacy, entering private rooms without knocking and so forth. But now he felt anxious to the point of agitation.
It was the first time he could recall feeling so protective of his privacy. It was obvious why, mating fever was upon him. He just hadn’t been prepared for the onslaught to be so great.
Amassed of enchanted stone and steel, the very walls that surrounded him were made of magic. The kind he’d vowed to protect. Almost intuitive, the Keep was the safest place he knew, while providing the utmost comfort for its inhabitants.
It wasn’t the where that bothered his Wolf at the moment, it was more the who. Four males and one female lived there with him. All of them were currently unmated.
Yes, his beast recognized the pain that seemed to emanate from their leader after the loss of his mate and as such he knew Kingston was no threat to his female. But still. There were others. Including that idiot Horse who’d touched her at the lot.
Storm’s Wolf would simply not allow anyone near her. He could not let his mate out of his sight. The beast was riding him hard. The animal in him knew who and what she was to him. He demanded she be marked and claimed.
“No. You will not mark her unless we know for certain that she is what you say she is, and not unless she agrees to it. That is an order,” Kingston practically roared, but Storm’s Wolf didn’t give a fuck.
Yes, he was projecting again. That kind of telepathic sympathy was useful when their unit was in battle, but that was the second time in as many hours that he’d slipped and allowed his thoughts to be known. Mating fever was fucking with his sense of balance.
“She is mine, King,” he began.