Tied With a Bow

for you outside will let me fuck you before they start experimenting on you. Like I didn’t know who the hell they were,” he snorted. “Only Council scientists pay that kind of money for a Breed’s fuck, and they only pay that much for a special kind of fuck.” He threw a tight, cold smile over his shoulder. “A mate. Are you his mate, sugar?”
    Malachi would kill him.
    Holden wouldn’t make it out of the hotel . . .
    The thought was heralded by a howl that seemed to echo through the stairwell, sharp and piercing, filled with rage and the promise of retribution.
    Malachi was pissed now.
    Isabelle collapsed on the step as Holden paused. “I told you,” she breathed out weakly. “He’s not going to let you leave this hotel with me. Let me go, it will give you a head start. It’s the only chance you have.”
    “Move your ass.” He jerked at her wrists again, his hold tightening as he tried to move faster down the stairs while Isabelle fought to slow him down.
    It seemed to go on forever, but she knew with every step and every level, she knew they were getting closer to the ground floor.
    “How did you know?” she whispered painfully as the weight came down too heavy on her ankle and she nearly fell again. “How did anyone know that I was his mate?”
    He rounded on her, pushing her back into the wall, his hand wrapped around her throat as he glared down at her. “I would have worshipped you,” he sneered in her face. “I would have given you anything you wanted, but you fucked that Breed instead. Fucked him and let him knot you like a fucking animal.”
    “How did you know?” she asked again, fighting to center her thoughts. There was no way she was going to get out of this if she didn’t find a way to fight past the mind-numbing pain that rolled through her in debilitating waves.
    “Stupid,” he muttered, his voice lowering to disgust again. “Mating heat has a scent. They still have some Breeds who know their place and they’re always searching for that scent. Malachi Morgan just so happened to have gotten careless with his mate. And now, she’s gone bye bye,” he laughed as he dragged her back to her feet.
    “I don’t think so.”
    Isabelle looked over Holden’s shoulder as he froze.
    The voice was unfamiliar, lazy, almost amused.
    Holden jerked around, his hand going to his belt for the weapon Isabelle had managed to knock out of his hand as he shot Ashley. He hadn’t been able to retrieve it.
    “Fuck,” he muttered.
    Laughter echoed through the stairwell as Isabelle stared down at the strange sight in bemusement.
    He had to be a Breed. A tiger Breed of some sort if the two stripes extending parallel across his face were any indication.
    “Did you lose your gun, little man?” the stranger drawled as he reach behind his back and drew his own out. “That’s okay, I have mine.”
    Holden’s jaw clenched. His fingers wrapped in her hair and as he began to turn to throw Isabelle down the stairs, a shot rang out.
    Blood splattered.
    Isabelle stood carefully still, her hands now free and pressed flat against the wall as she let her gaze travel to where Holden was sprawled out on the steps at her feet.
    His blue eyes were sightless, lifeless as he stared up in blank horror. The side of his head looked as though it had been peeled back, exposing raw meat and the bare white covering of his skull.
    He had never been handsome, Isabelle thought, but he looked better dead than alive.
    “You okay?”
    Her head jerked around.
    Somehow, she must have slid down the wall because the stranger was hunkered in front of her as the sound of voices, loud and enraged could be heard above as the pounding of feet moved down the stairs.
    Her eyes dropped to the weapon that dangled casually from his fingers as he rested his wrist on his bent knee.
    “Are you going to kill me?” She lifted her gaze again and met the emerald brilliance of his. There was an almost feverish glow to them, as though he were ill and in pain.
    “No, I’m not going to kill you,” he said gently, the look in his gaze filled with sadness.
    The voices were getting closer. She swore she could hear her name being screamed from above.
    “Malachi’s coming,” she told him, though she wasn’t certain if it were a warning.
    “Yes, he’s coming.” He nodded, his gaze somber. “When he’s come down from the adrenaline rush, tell him I said our debt is clear now. He saved my life, I saved his mate.”
    “You tell