Despicable by Rory Miles

BELLATRIX

The charming and annoyingly handsome creep is still following me, rambling about how I’m minutes away from disaster, but so far, I don’t feel anything. Was he lying to lure me back so he could kill me?

He doesn’t look like a murderer, then again, neither did Ted Bundy. His pretty green eyes and dirty blond hair don’t make him innocent.

Even beautiful people can be twisted.

Taking another long inhale, I dive under the surface and breaststroke past the second buoy.

Eminent danger my—oh.

A high-pitched pulsing sound hits me, making me cringe and stop mid-stroke. I clamp my lips together and kick up, but another pulse of sound, on a higher frequency than the last one crashes into me. My eardrums tremble, and I forget about keeping my mouth closed, releasing a silent whine into the water. Bubbles float around me as water fills my mouth, and I gag, slamming it shut and spitting it out.

I’m sinking, pretty quickly, and I can’t tell how deep the water is. Before I can get my wits about me, another pulse ripples through the water. The vibration rattles my brain and makes my stomach roil. I stick my fingers in my ear to try and block the sound out, but it’s no use. Remembering to kick, I try to make my way toward the surface, only to struggle to keep moving when another frequency rocks into me.

Water fills my mouth when I scream, and this time I swallow some of it, instantly coughing and trying to expel the liquid only to suck down more into my lungs. My body starts to thrash of its own accord, a desperate attempt to fight for survival. I push all my will into moving my limbs, but another wave of sonar slams into me, and I forget how to breathe, then remember when even more water fills my lungs.

Oh moon.

He wasn’t lying.

I’m going to drown.

Strong arms wrap around me, tugging me back at a rapid pace. I’m still coughing and taking in more water than is probably safe. I want to tell him to leave me, to save himself because I won’t die with a guilty conscience, but I can’t. I can’t do anything but cough, suck in more water, and cough again.

My mind is racing, and my fingers are still stuck in my ears when we surface. Water cascades off of me, and I gag, throwing up water and almost slipping back under, but hands catch my waist and keep me steady while my lungs force the water out. A palm cracks against my back, helping me cough up even more. I cover my mouth with my hands, noticing blood covering the fingers I had plugging my ears.

“Are my ears bleeding?”

“Stubborn woman,” the creep whispers, sounding a little too concerned for a murderer.

Something hard brushes against my ass, and I groan between coughing.

“Are you seriously hard right now? I knew you were a creep,” I wheeze, still not together enough to pull out of his arms and keep myself afloat.

“I told you that you would drown, but you didn’t listen.”

Is he ignoring me?

Rude. Then again, he is saving my life, so he can’t be all that bad. My entire body sags, having coughed up all the water but now too tired to help him on the way back.

“Almost there,” he whispers again. His hips don’t come close to my body again, and I can’t help but think he’s intentionally trying not to touch me. “Ronan.”

“Who’s that?” I start to shiver, the cold water getting to me now that I’m not swimming.

“My friend. I need his help to get you out,” he says softly. “Ronan.”

“Well, he’ll never hear you if you keep whispering,” I mumble. “Can’t be pretty and smart, I guess.”

I think he laughs, but he does it so quietly it’s hard to tell. I crane my neck to glance at him, seeing his head thrown back in what should be a loud laugh, but I can hardly hear it. Reaching up, I rub my ears with my hands. Muffled sound is all that I register, and I frown, holding my palms in front of my face. Blood is covering my skin.

“She’s hurt, dude. Help me pull her out.” Now I know he’s shouting instead of whispering, and I start to get worried.

Why are my ears bleeding so much?

I need to shift to heal, which means I have to get out of the water. He starts to lift me, so I glance up and grab the hands which are reaching down for me, using my feet to climb up the short, rocky drop-off. As soon as I’m on the ground, I shift, landing on all fours and whimpering when the pain doesn’t immediately subside.

I’m in more pain than I realized, so I collapse to the ground, resting my head on my paws and waiting for my other form to heal. The creep climbs out of the water, completely naked, but I can’t even appreciate the defined muscles.

His mouth is moving, and I hear the faint sound of their words, but I can’t understand any of it right now. My ears are throbbing, and I close my eyes, waiting the pain out.

A hand brushes over my neck a few seconds later. I peel an eye open, staring at the long-haired god standing in front of me. Such a shame he isn’t naked too, because he’s just as beautiful as the creep.

“—pick you up,” he says.

I can’t respond in wolf form, so I eye him as he moves to the side, scooping two arms under my stomach and lifting me with ease. My head spins when he turns and heads through the trees, and I’m forced to close my eyes so I don’t retch all over him. His fingers dig into my fur, holding me securely enough I relax in his arms, wondering why they’re being so nice to me.

Maybe they’re murder partners? They kill together or something?

No. That’s insane. They’re being much too gentle to be killers.

* * *

RONAN

The soft whimpers escaping her wolf has my chest tightening. Creed said she got caught in the sonar traps, something he’s experienced before. The only reason he managed to make it out is because he swam back as soon as the first wave of sound hit him. Apparently, she stayed there, getting hit over and over by the sonar.

She’s lucky Creed was there to rescue her.

Otherwise, she’d be the second dead body in two days.

Creed comes out of the house, fully dressed now after running ahead to get the clothes and the couch ready for her.

“Wake up Dax.”

“Already did,” he says, holding the screen door open for me.

Dax storms in, hair in disarray and eyes dark. “What happened?”

Gently setting her wolf form on the couch, I cover her with the soft throw blanket and let Creed fill him in. Bellatrix is still awake, but her eyes are clenched shut. The sonar is meant to hurt, and the shift doesn’t seem to have healed her much, which means she needs to return to her human form, letting the magic of the change take away more of the pain.

I kneel in front of her, rubbing the fur covering her neck to keep her calm. “You need to shift.”

A whimper.

“No, you have to. If the first change didn’t take away all of the pain, you have to do it again. It’s the only way. I know you’re hurt, but you need to do it.”

Slowly, she lifts her head, staring at me with yellow eyes that seem to pierce through me.

I nod. “There’s a blanket covering you. We can leave if you want?” Tipping my head to the side, I try to guess what she’s thinking, but it’s impossible to read her wolf. “We’ll wait in the kitchen,” I tell her, standing and grabbing the guys. “Let’s give her some space.”

I’m not worried about leaving her because I can see the couch from the open concept kitchen, but at least she’ll have a little bit of privacy. Dax is glaring at Creed like he’s done something wrong, so I point at him.

“Don’t start. If it weren’t for him, she’d be dead.”

His face loses some of that hard edge, and he scrubs his hand over his scruff. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I tried,” Creed says, crossing his arms over his chest. “She wouldn’t listen.”

“You should have dragged her back.”

“Dude,” I mutter, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose. “That’s a horrible idea.”

Dax swings his angry gaze my way. “Better than her almost drowning!”

“Uh, guys? I can hear you yelling now, and it hurts.”

“Shit,” Creed says under his breath, returning to the living room.

Dax and I stare at each other for a beat before shoving aside our frustration and going to check on her.

Creed is sitting on the edge of the couch, and she’s pressed into the arm of the other side, studying him. The blanket is wrapped tightly around her body, but her legs peek out the bottom. Her skin is so soft.

“You’re not the murderer?”

Creed’s lips kick up, and he runs his hand over the back of his head. “No, I’m not.”

“What about those two?” she asks him, not bothering to look at either of us yet.

Dax bristles, probably offended she’s ignoring him, but I give her time. She’s been through a lot, and I don’t blame her for wondering since she doesn’t know us.

“No, they’re not.”

Chewing on her lip, she thinks about whether or not to believe him, then nods. The wet strands of her hair are soaking through the blanket, but she’s plenty covered. Her eyes lift from Creed, sweeping over Dax, and then moving to me. There’s no mistaking the distrust, but her face softens a little when I smile at her.

“Hungry?” I ask, jerking my thumb toward the kitchen. “Dax makes a mean omelet.”

“Bacon?”

“Always,” I reply earnestly because what kind of monster makes an omelet without bacon?

“I’ll get it started.” Dax leaves the room like his ass is on fire, and I bring my eyebrows together, sliding my gaze back to Bellatrix.

She lifts a shoulder, telling me she also noticed how quickly he left but can’t explain what crawled up his ass.

“Come on. I’ll show you the shower. Creed can go to the store to get you some clothes.”

He opens his mouth to tell me off but stops and thinks better of it. He’s never liked being told what to do, but making sure she’s comfortable is my top priority, and I think he realizes it’s what is most important as well.

“Thank you.” She stands, adjusting the blanket so it covers all of her, and I have to pull my gaze away before I stare too hard at the way it contours to her curves.

Boobs are dangerous.