Claimed by the Beast(22)

* * *



Lance caught sight of them when he reached the corner of his street. As  soon as he did, he stopped and turned, walking fast, retracing his  steps. If he had been paying attention, he would have known they were  there before he'd gotten so close to the house. He would have picked up  the sounds, the smells, the danger that awaited him. But he had been  preoccupied. Shifters were alive, two of them at least. But that wasn't  what had his attention. Something even more unusual than everything else  that was going on had happened. He had heard her. He had heard Rachel's  thoughts. He'd not been able to make sense of them, they were too  unclear, but he'd heard her.

"Professor," came the call behind him. "Professor Weston!"

Without turning, Lance broke into a run. Footsteps picked up speed  behind him but he would have been able to outrun the man on foot. It was  the three black Volvos that screeched to a halt surrounding him that he  wouldn't be able to outrun.

He stopped, taking a deep breath, wishing he could control when he  shifted, wishing he knew more about what was happening to him.                       
       
           



       

"Professor Weston," came the falsely jovial voice of the man behind him.

Lance turned, pasting a smile onto his face, feeling the twitching at the corner of his mouth as he met the man's eyes.

"Do I know you?" Lance asked, straightening to his full height and walking toward the man.

"I'm from Wayne Labs," the man began, extending his hand. "Dr. Dennison sent me to pick up a sample you had for me."

"We were to meet in town," Lance said, not reaching out just yet.

Car doors opened and closed, men in similar suits to the one before him gathered.

"I thought it might be easier for you if I came to your house. Didn't  want you to go out of your way," he said, smiling, extending his hand  farther. "I'm Robert Lawler," he said. "I'm Dr. Dennison's personal  assistant."

Lance studied the man, not trusting him at all. He did however take his  hand, squeezing just a little harder than necessary so that Lawler  flinched a little, although he didn't pull back. "Professor Lance  Weston."

"Good to meet you in person. I've heard so much," Lawler said, rubbing  his hand when Lance released it. "You've had a break in, I believe," he  said as he led the way back toward Lance's house.

Lance feigned surprise. "A break in?" he asked. He picked up speed and  his entourage followed, men on foot and in vehicles surrounding him.

"Where were you coming from on foot anyway?" Lawler asked too casually. "You live pretty far out."

"There's a coffee shop a few blocks away. I needed some exercise, I've  not been feeling well, thought the fresh air would do me good," Lance  lied as he opened the front door, which was unlocked. He stepped inside  and surveyed the mess he knew he would find. It wasn't new after all.  He'd done this damage the day prior. But he did want to get down to the  lab. Salvage what he could. Hide what he could from Lawler's prying  eyes.

But he had a feeling he was already too late.



* * *



"I'll run in and get some coffee and food," Marcus said. It was close to  lunch time and they were at a gas station. When Rachel reached to open  her door, he put a hand over hers to stop her. "Stay in the car, I don't  want to take any chances."

"Marcus, we're far enough away. You can't expect me to sit in the car  for however many hours it's going to take to get to where we're going,"  she said, still irritated by their earlier discussion. "Besides, I have  to use the bathroom."

"I'll drive you around. Just please do this for me, Rachel. We'll figure  something out, I promise. I just can't take any chances."

She opened her mouth to tell him how ridiculous he was being but Marcus  had already closed the door and was walking toward the shop.

Rachel looked at his retreating back, narrowing her eyes. She then eyed  his phone and picked it up. She dialed Kayla's number, keeping one eye  on Marcus.

Kayla answered quickly. "Hello?"

Rachel realized she wouldn't have recognized Marcus's phone number. "Hi, Kayla. It's me, Rachel. I'm on Marcus' phone."

"Hey, how are you holding up? Where are you?"

"Well," she said looking around. "We're at a gas station right now.  Marcus is being all weird, he won't tell me anything about where we're  going or even let me walk into the store with him. Afraid I'll leave my  scent on anything I touch!"

"Sounds like Elijah," Kayla said, chuckling. "Why won't he tell you?"

"I can hear him. Lance, I mean. I think it's when he's in wolf form. You know, like I can hear Elijah and Marcus."

"Wow, that's good right? I mean, you can know where he is?" she asked, unsure.

"I don't know. It's different than I'm used to and it's only happened a  couple of times. Marcus is afraid the communication goes both ways," she  said, watching Marcus pay for what he had bought. "Listen, I have to  go. Are you okay? The baby?"

"Yeah, we're all fine. But this thing, what if Marcus is right?" Kayla asked.

"I don't know. I have to go. I'll call you again later." She hung up  even as Kayla was saying goodbye and set the phone down, her heart  beating faster, hoping Marcus wouldn't catch her. But who cared if he  did? She was certainly allowed to call her friend, wasn't she?

Opening the door, Marcus smiled and handed her a bag full of food and  drinks. "Coffee is iced, hope you don't mind. The fresh coffee smelled  burnt."                       
       
           



       

"It's fine," she said. "I love this stuff." She took out the bottled Starbucks latte.

"Good," he said. He went around to take the gas pump out then climbed  into the driver's seat. He reached over and kissed her, just a quick  peck on the lips before settling back into his seat, his legs too long  for her little car, his body too big. "I'm sorry for the restrictions. I  just want to keep you safe."

She dropped her gaze to the phone, feeling a little guilty, but looked  back up at him and smiled. "I understand," she said. "I still have to  pee."

He started the car and drove her around to the bathroom, waiting outside  for the few moments it took her. They then drove on, not stopping until  it was late evening when he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel just  as his phone rang. She could see from the display that it was Elijah.  Marcus picked up the phone but it was Elijah who did all the talking  while Marcus glanced at Rachel, his responses brief. The call itself  lasted just a few moments. Once he was finished, Marcus put the phone  into his pocket and looked at her.

"You called Kayla?" he asked.

She looked at his face, trying to read his expression. "I didn't think it was a big deal," she said.

"If it wasn't a big deal, why didn't you mention it when I got back into the car?"

She shrugged her shoulder.

"You realize the phone call can be traced, right?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Means we've got not only Lance Weston looking for you but the men who  were at his house when we got you out as well, if they've got half a  brain that is. This Dr. Dennison you mentioned, Elijah's done some  research. He runs Wayne Laboratories in Philadelphia. That's the same  lab Phillip worked for. Is it coming together for you now?"

She stared at him. "I didn't know."

"No you didn't but you knew better than to pick up my phone and use it, right? Especially given the circumstances?"

She stared at him.

"And not telling me in the first place is as good as lying to me, Rachel."

"It was just a phone call, Marcus, don't get bent out of shape. Besides,  it's not like I could tell her anything anyway, I didn't know  anything!"

"Telling her would be one thing. Them tracing the call to our location,  another thing altogether-" Marcus began, but she cut him off.

"I have a right to know where we're going. You're treating me like I'm the enemy here!"

"No, I'm trying to keep you safe, Rachel. We're far enough away now that  we can stop for the night. Let's continue our talk upstairs, stretch  our legs," he said. "Come." His expression disappointed, he stepped out  of the car, opened the trunk and gathered the bags, then opened her door  and stood waiting for her to climb out.

"I didn't know," she started.

"Not now," he said, glancing at a man passing by. "Upstairs." He turned and walked toward the front entrance.

"Fine," she muttered and followed him, not liking how she felt one bit.

They checked in and took their key. The elevator ride to the sixth floor  was quiet. She glanced at him from beneath her lashes but he kept his  eyes on the door.