Under His Skin Read online

  Ana frowned. “What?”

  “How many skins do you have?”

  He stepped toward her, grabbing her arm again as his empathy for the other victims fanned his rage. A sense of urgency screamed at him to help them, to save them from the torture that had nearly killed him after only a few hours. “Tell me!”

  She winced, but he didn’t ease his grip. She’d manipulated him once, it wasn’t going to happen again. When he tightened his hold on her arm even further, he saw her jaw flex as if she were clenching her teeth. He needed to push her a little further, to get her to give up on playing the victim so they could end this charade and he could make her tell him what he needed to know.

  “This body may be human, but don’t think it can’t rip your arm out of the socket if I choose to do so.” He made his voice sound as threatening as he could, wanting her to know he was serious. Brec wasn’t a violent man, but there were some things worth drawing blood for. Stealing skins was one of them. Holding the pain he’d felt only hours ago close to his chest, he tightened his grip even further.

  “It’s none of your concern,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  Her tone betrayed her physical pain. Part of him knew he should keep pushing, should break a bone if necessary. It was frightening how convincingly she’d played a victim only to turn around and show this new scary side. The way her face continued to hold her anger even under threat of physical violence made him realize that she was not what she had first seemed to be. He would have to go further than he was willing to go if he wanted to physically force her to talk.

  He released her, letting her throw herself back on the bed. He hoped she would cower, or seem at least a little frightened. Anything to make him think that he could get her to confess without doing something that would keep him awake at night. The thought of using violence against a woman turned his stomach. Being a warrior would be one thing, but a six foot seven man brutalizing a woman was unacceptable.

  His prayer went unanswered as Ana stared at him without a trace of her earlier fear. She leaned against the headboard, curling her long legs up to cover her nudity as she glared at him. She may as well have been an ice queen surveying a problematic peasant. There was no guilt on her face, no vulnerability. All the tears had dried and apparently, so had her remorse. He had misjudged her—badly.

  “This is your chance, Brec,” the pixie whispered. “You want your brother to see that you have what it takes to be a warrior? Show him. Look at her, listen to the lack of sympathy in her voice. She’s a monster and she has to be stopped. You can make her tell you where those skins are. You can end the others’ suffering.” The pixie put both hands on his ear and leaned in until gooseflesh erupted onto Brec’s arm. “Don’t let her act fool you.”

  Shame that he’d been tricked by a pretty face fueled his own anger. She wouldn’t fool him again. As much as he hated the thought of using force, he wasn’t leaving this cabin until he learned the truth about the missing skins. If there were other creatures out there living a miserable shadow of their previous existence, he was going to do something about it. He narrowed his eyes. No matter what he had to do.

  Turning on his heel, Brec stalked to the corner of the room and laid his fur on the antique rocking chair beside the door. Putting it down took more effort than he wanted to admit. His soul cried out in pain, fighting to keep the fur against his skin for fear that if he walked away it would disappear before he returned. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and blew it out his mouth. He wasn’t leaving it. It wasn’t going anywhere.

  He turned around, facing the bed and the ice empress reclining on it. She sat there, still naked, without making any attempt to retrieve clothing or a blanket. Her graceful body was all long legs and smooth lines. She had clearly toned muscles as if she’d been an athlete once, but the layer of cushion that lay over it told him that whatever she’d done to get that muscle was something she hadn’t done for some time. She looked soft and he gritted his teeth against the thought of what that flesh would feel like under his fingertips. What it would be like to grip her hips in his hands—

  Oh, Manannan help me.

  His gaze wandered to her breasts, perfect handfuls of soft flesh topped by pale pink nipples that begged for his attention. Desire crackled down his spine like a current of electricity and his blood pounded in his ears. It had been a long time since he’d been this close to a naked woman. Though he remembered how fun it could be . . .

  What the fuck am I thinking?

  Brec clenched his teeth and forced his mind away from its traitorously lecherous path. Her claim to have stolen his skin to lure him to the marriage bed may have piqued his interest for a second earlier, but he knew her true colors now. She was a cruel person who thought nothing of stealing that which made life worth living for her victims. If it had been up to her, he would still be wandering around the small town only a few miles away, turning blue from the cold without his seal-skin to keep him warm.

  With that thought burning like a stick of dynamite in his mind, Brec strode to the bed. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to get away, but she was too late. He grabbed her wrist and jerked it back to the bedpost, binding it tightly to the smooth column of dark wood. She shrieked as he tightened the bond, making certain she couldn’t wiggle out of it.

  “What are you doing?” she screamed. “You can’t keep me tied up in my own home forever!”

  He ignored her, repeating the process with her legs. When he was done, she lie there glaring at him. His heart beat faster as he saw a wish for his death in her eyes.

  “Just how long to you think you’ll be able to keep me tied up?” she hissed.

  He shrugged, trying to appear unaffected by the entire situation—as if he held people prisoner all the time. “I’d wager I could keep you like this for a day or so.” He retrieved the knife where he’d placed it next to his skin. It was the knife he used for healing rituals and he kept it razor sharp for those dire circumstances when cuts needed to be made in flesh and he wanted to assure as little scarring as possible. Still, it looked like a wicked blade and it had the desired effect on its mark. The look of fear that fluttered through her eyes when he held it up gave him a small spurt of satisfaction. “After that, we’ll just have to get more creative,” he added softly.

  Chapter 7

  There was a time when Ana’d had the grace and self-control of a fox. She had waited and she had planned, and she had almost always got what she wanted. It was a primal instinct that said those who snap their jaws and run drooling after their prey had to work a lot harder than those who knew how to smile and wait quietly until the prey turned its back.

  Two years of being human had obviously changed things.

  Ana cursed herself for her temper and her complete lack of self-control. Her wrists burned from where she’d given in to a childish tantrum, yanking on her bonds again and again in a wild attempt to escape. All she’d succeeded in doing was tightening the horrid ropes. If she didn’t hold still now she’d cut off the her circulation completely.

  Emotions swam through her head like a sea of sharks just before a feeding frenzy. Anger over the pixie’s betrayal, hatred for the selkie holding her prisoner, pain from the rope burns in her flesh, and frustration over her abysmal handling of the situation. The emotions sped her breathing until her chest ached. She wanted to scream, just to ease the pressure.

  Ana closed her eyes and fought to take a deep slow breath. She had to calm down. She’d already lost the advantage the image of a vulnerable lonely maiden had afforded her, thanks to her own temper. Now she needed a new plan.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Over and over she pulled fresh air into her lungs, held it, and then slowly exhaled. She could do this. She just had to think.

  An image of Brec hovered in her mind. What did she know about him? He was a frequent customer of Mrs. Downing, a sort of doctor he’d said. She also knew that he was gullible. The way his face had softened when she started to
cry and the gentle tone he’d used when he told her he couldn’t stay also told her that he was a kind soul. All in all, the evidence suggested he wouldn’t hurt her.

  Rhythmic thuds against the wooden floor outside her bedroom signaled Brec’s return. Not knowing what her new angle was yet, Ana just tried to keep her face as blank as she could when he came into the room. She needed to get to know him a little better in order to figure out the best way to make him let her go. Everyone had a weakness. Kind people had more.

  The selkie strode over to the fireplace set into the wall to her right. Ana’s stomach dropped as she noticed his arms were full.

  “What are you doing?”

  Brec dropped the load of wood he’d been carrying to the floor beside the fireplace. He glanced over at her for a moment before turning his attention to the task at hand.

  “It’s freezing in here. Since I have no intention of giving you my fur to keep warm—as you seem to prefer—I thought you’d like to have some heat.”

  Ana’s heart beat faster as she watched him load three large logs into the hearth. The icy touch of fear slithered down her spine. She had to try twice before she could speak.

  “I don’t want a fire,” she said lightly, ignoring the hoarseness of her voice. “This is a very modern cabin, just turn the thermostat up a bit.”

  Brec frowned. “That will take longer to heat this room than a fire.”

  “I don’t mind. Please, just don’t light that.” She held her breath, her eyes locked on the wood in the fireplace as if she would will it not to burn. A little voice inside her was already screaming in panic, imagining the sound of flames crackling in the fireplace. The smell of burning fur . . .

  Brec stood and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “Fine, suit yourself. Where’s the thermostat?”

  Relief weakened Ana’s muscles so she sagged in her restraints. In that moment she loved the selkie. “On the wall to the right of my bedroom door when you go out.”

  Without looking back at her, Brec nodded and stalked out of her room. When he disappeared around the doorframe, Ana let out the breath that had caught in her throat when he approached the fireplace. He must have found the logs outside.

  A mental picture of the mighty stack of firewood under the tarp against the east wall of her cabin floated in her mind. Before she’d lost her skin to a hearth of hungry flames, she’d enjoyed few things in human form. A roaring fire had been one of them. She’d spent most of her human evenings curled up in front of the dancing flames, reading a book or just enjoying the warmth. Her pile of firewood had been tremendous, a towering stack that she’d thought would last her forever.

  It turns out, she was right. It would last forever because she would never allow one to be burnt in her home. Not the flicker of a candle, or the tiniest wisp of smoke would ever come within a hundred yards of her beloved fur. What was left of it.

  She bit her lip against the pain that rose inside her. Brec would come back into the room any second. When he did, her face had to be calm and unreadable. He didn’t need to know how she felt about fire. No sense in giving him something he could use against her. Not when his goal was so adverse to her own.

  A shiver ran down her body and she cursed the selkie. She’d been so preoccupied with the chaos this night had descended into, she hadn’t noticed the cold. Now she couldn’t ignore it. Turning her face to bury it against her arm, Ana wondered how hard it would be to coax Brec into letting her get dressed. For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, she cursed herself for letting her temper get the better of her.

  “Here.” Brec’s voice startled her and she jerked her head up just in time to see him throw a blanket over her body. The thick dark brown material settled over her and almost instantly a tiny layer of heat began to build. Ana raised her eyebrows in surprise as she recognized it as the velvety down comforter she kept stored in the linen closet.

  “How thoughtful,” she murmured.

  Brec hesitated for a moment before tucking the comforter firmly around her. Ana watched him with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. What kind of a man was this selkie, to treat her with such consideration after what she’d done? Why didn’t he keep her bared to the cold, using the promise of warmth to leverage the information he needed from her?

  She stared at him as if she could see through him to discover his true motive. Once again, she couldn’t help but be struck by how handsome he was. The legends all described selkies as an attractive people, hence the stories, but Brec seemed to be a particularly fine specimen. He was a giant, all hard planes and swelling muscles, but he was a healer. He looked like he’d been born for brute force, and yet he’d obviously chosen to help people instead of hurt them. Ana’s throat constricted with an emotion that felt suspiciously like longing. If only she’d met him under other circumstances.

  Suddenly Brec froze, staring down at his hands as he tucked the comforter around her. He jerked away, his face flushing. Ana frowned. He looked almost embarrassed. And angry at the same time.

  “I’m not going to let you freeze to death,” he snapped suddenly. “I’m willing to treat you with as much kindness as I can until you force me to do otherwise.”

  Ana’s lips parted in surprise. Where had that outburst come from?

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He leaned down and roughly continued to tuck the comforter around her. “It means you obviously have no problem ruining people’s lives. I should let you freeze until you tell me where those skins are.” He shook his head. “But I’m going to give you a chance to think about it first. If you can find a shred of decency long enough to tell me where you hid them, I’ll let you go and you’ll never have to see me again. If not, then don’t expect this kind of treatment for much longer.”

  Ana just stared at him, her earlier thoughts about what a good man he must be shattering with every angry jerk of the blanket. Suddenly her own temper flared. It wasn’t the first time she’d been wrong about what kind of person a man was. But it would be the last.

  The heat underneath the blanket continued to build as the cool air currents were blocked from sneaking under the soft material. As the chill began to leave her flesh, Ana found it easier to concentrate. She studied Brec’s face, her desire to find a weakness renewed by his terse outburst.

  She had no weapons, not even any clothes. He wasn’t going to feel sorry for her again, that was clear. Ana tilted her head, an idea beginning to form in her brain. Logically, there was really only one option open to her in her current state. Her gaze slid over his muscled chest and broad shoulders. Actually, she was starting to feel pretty good about her option.

  Ana paused, mind furiously working to remember their earlier encounter in full detail. Had he seemed affected by the sight of her nakedness? Had his eyes lingered on her breasts or between her legs? Had he seemed aroused?

  She didn’t remember. Demons take it, she’d been too angry to pay attention. Thinking fast, she waited for him to tuck the comforter under her upper body. When his hands slid the material underneath her, she thrust her chest up a little more than necessary and let out a little sound halfway between a sigh and a moan.

  He froze, his gaze darting to her face before riveting back to the comforter. By the time he stepped away he’d regained his composure, but it was too late. She’d heard the hitch in his breath, seen the dilation of his pupils. Satisfaction tickled her pride as her hopes climbed. It seemed seduction was a possibility.

  Ana looked at Brec with new eyes. When he’d walked into Mrs. Downing’s shop earlier, she’d felt an instant attraction. And why not? Six foot six, muscles that showed even beneath his coat, and eyes that glittered like black pearls—there was plenty to be attracted to. She smiled. Perhaps everything would turn out for the best. She may even get some enjoyment out of her brief stint in captivity.

  “It’s only a matter of time before I find the skins.”

  Brec’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. Ana stared at him, the me
ntion of skins souring her earlier happy thoughts. She tried to think of something to say to him, but nothing she could think of seemed like it would improve her situation. She kept silent, trying to look small and vulnerable.

  “I don’t know what would make you steal something like that—something that sucks the life out of your victim,” Brec continued stiffly. “But I hope someday you find out what it feels like to lose something so precious that every day you have to fight to keep going without it.” He turned to leave. “If you want to make things right, just call for me. I’m not leaving until I find them. And you will stay tied up for now because I don’t trust you not to slit my throat in my sleep.”

  His cold insinuation slapped her across the face and indignant anger burned in Ana’s belly.

  “I’m not the one who was waving a knife around,” she snapped. “What makes you think I’d kill anyone?”

  He turned back to stare at her, his anger flaring in his eyes. “You just don’t understand what a skin means to a skinwalker.” He shook his head. “It would have been kinder to kill me.”