It was Jackie’s turn to gape at him. She yanked free and tore off the backpack. Then she swung it with all her might and clocked Zan in the chest. “You ass. I came out to save you.”
Zan only shook his head. “As you can see, the bullet only grazed me. Which you would have seen had you stayed in the room.” He growled out between clenched teeth.
Jackie looked at his shoulder, saw the small tear in the fabric. “Would have if the generator hadn’t gone out.”
“Shit.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “Russell went to the back-up and you came to me.” He paused, green and amber eyes almost glowing as he processed that information. “Who are you now, Jackie? Doctor or mate?”
“I’m both, Zan.” She conceded. She watched as pleasure and savage possession filled his gaze. “But that doesn’t mean...” her words ended on a gasp as a shadow moved behind Zan. He twisted at the same instant, his claws ripping out of his fingers and tearing into the man who’d been sneaking up behind them as they argued.
Startled, Jackie took several steps back as Zan fought with the assailant, only to stop when she hit a hard wall. An arm banded around her waist and a knife was thrust to her throat. She went absolutely still.
Zan turned back to her, so slowly that she knew he’d scented the man holding her. Too late. The one he’d killed was the distraction, and maybe if they hadn’t been arguing, Zan would have sensed the ambush. Or she should have. The one holding her stank of human sweat and body odor. She would have gagged if a large, sharp knife wasn’t currently pressing into her vulnerable flesh.
Claws out, Zan widened his stance, moving into attack position. “Here I am, Shider. All alone. Quit hiding behind a female and come and get me like a man.”
“You’re no man, Sutton. You’re an animal. And I kill animals. Especially those that destroy my life.” Shider was so angry that spit flew from his mouth, landing in Jackie’s hair and on her cheek. This time she did gag. And the knife pricked her skin.
The metallic scent of her blood filled the air. Zan zeroed in on the spot, his jaw working furiously, amber almost obliterating the green of his irises. If he turned, if the wolf attacked without the conscious planning of the man, Shider would slice her throat. “Let. Her. Go.”
Shider only gripped her tighter. “I don’t think so. She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she, Sutton? No wonder you took a liking to her. Tell me dear,” he sniffed her hair. Gross. “Do you really understand what he is?” The last was whispered in her ear.
She couldn’t hide a cringe as his breath fanned over her face. Beyond the unwashed stink was the subtle scent of decay. There was something seriously wrong with the man holding her at knife-point. Not just in his head, but in his body.
At her silence he squeezed her tighter. “Do you see his claws? He’s a werewolf.”
From his attitude Jackie was going to hazard a guess. Shider thought she was human. An uniformed one at that. Unless he was playing her. Otherwise, why have a knife to her throat? Had he heard her and Zan’s argument? Did he know she was his mate? Was Shider just screwing with her mind? Giving her a false sense of security by saying this crap? Or did he really have no clue at who and what Jackie was?
For now she’d go with the dumb female angle. “Impossible.”
“Not impossible. I’ve been tracking this one for years. After he slaughtered my family right in front of my face.”
Was he talking about his father who’d been the leader of an international drug ring and who no doubt had killed more people through violence and overdose than Zan ever would? She’d heard about that raid. Not only from Zan, but from her grandfather this morning at breakfast. He’d wanted her to have as much information as possible, such as that Shider Jr. was considered quite unstable, having dipped into the family business one too many times.
Which might account for the scent of decay wafting from him.
Jackie brought up one hand to lightly touch the wrist holding the knife, watching the muscles shift and tense under Zan’s black suit. He wouldn’t be able to hold the beast back much longer. Between the intense pull of the full moon, the sight of his mate in danger, and the scent of her blood to add to the sadistic mix, his wolf should have overpowered the man by now. That Zan still remained in human form was a testament to his strength of will.
“Dear God,” she responded to Shider’s comment with near female hysteria, silently accepting an Oscar for her fabu performance. Her other hand was on her chest and she flashed Zan in her rusty military sign language what she was about to do. Though far from pleased—unmistakable in his snapping teeth—he told her he understood by growling low and ducking his head slightly, his movements now more animalistic than human.