She nodded, and again he noticed her eyes looked a little gla.s.sy from tears. He should stay, he realized, but he just needed a moment.

He glanced at her again, then left the room.

Elizabeth set aside the tray and scrambled as quietly as she could from the bed. She had to save Jensen. She had to stop Brody. And she only had two choices. She had to contact her old pack-they could control Brody. And she had to pray that Dr. Fowler had figured out her serum. That was the only way to free herself.

She crept over to Jensen's door and locked it. Then she tiptoed to the window, and carefully and quietly pulled it open. Looking out, she gauged that she could easily climb out onto the porch roof and then jump. At least she could in her wolf form.

She pulled in a deep breath. Then she willed herself to shift. She made a slight growl as her cells snapped and reformed. As her joints popped and reshifted.

Once in her wolf form, she paused, listening for Jensen or Granddad. She could hear them in the kitchen, although she didn't listen to what they said. No time to eavesdrop.

She leapt through the window out onto the roof, then jumped down to the ground, her thick wolf muscles and bones easily taking the jar of hitting the ground. Without looking back at the house, she ran for the woods. She knew Jensen would come looking for her, but hopefully, by the time he did, she'd have contacted those she needed to. And maybe, just maybe, the serum could cure her.

Brody growled, the sound rough and raw. But G.o.dd.a.m.n he hurt. Between the two bullets still lodged in him, one in his side and the other in his shoulder, and the stab wound that was nearly healed but just p.i.s.sed him off, he was a hurting unit.

He lay in the far stall of Elizabeth's barn, where he planned to wait until that stupid b.i.t.c.h returned. And she would have to eventually.

He needed to get these bullets out of him. The lead was making him weaker. But he couldn't leave now-not that he had anywhere to go. He couldn't go back to the pack. Not without her. He was taking her back.

And then, once the pack saw he deserved their respect, he was going to kill the b.i.t.c.h.

She'd long since lost her usefulness, anyway. In fact, given her current state, she was a d.a.m.ned detriment.

He licked his wounds as well as he could. Oh yeah, she was going to die. And he still planned to kill her real mate, too.

Jensen knocked on the door to his bedroom for the third time.

"Elizabeth?" He tried the door handle again. It was definitely locked. He jiggled the handle. "Elizabeth?"

Worry twisted in his chest. Had she tried to get dressed or something and pa.s.sed out?

He paused, debating what to do, when suddenly he was. .h.i.t with an absolute certainty that she was gone.

He tilted his head, wondering at the strange knowledge. But it was a certainty. No doubt about it.

Without another thought, he shouldered the door open, the wood cracking loudly under his blow.

Even though he already knew what he would find, his gaze went from the empty bed to the open window. The blue tie-back curtains fluttered in the breeze, the only traces of Elizabeth her faint scent on the sheets.

Elizabeth ran up the stairs to her bedroom. She threw open the door to her closet, rooting through the darkness until she found a large knapsack. It was times like this when having only a motorcycle to ride was a real hindrance.

She unzipped the canvas sack, debating if she would have enough room for everything she needed to bring. After a second, she realized she was just going to have to make it work.

Slinging the empty bag over her shoulder, she rushed back down the steps. She checked her messages, praying Dr. Fowler had called. No.

She grabbed her cell phone and dashed out the front door. The sun had gone down quickly, casting the yard in an eerie grayness, not quite light and not quite dark.

She picked up her speed, realizing that it wouldn't take Jensen long to figure out she was gone and where she'd come. In fact, she was shocked he wasn't here yet. Truck almost always beat four paws.

But he hadn't been here, she could sense that. Tugging open the barn door, she didn't bother with the overhead light and hurried right to her makeshift lab.

As she reached for the flap of plastic, she paused. Something wasn't right. She glanced around, her eyes adjusting easily to the darkness. She lifted her nose, breathing in deeply. All the scents were normal. Old, moldy hay, weathered wood, musty...

Then she paused. There was no musky scent of the skunk. No smell of the owls.

She looked up to the rafters. The owls were gone. What did that mean?

"Well, hey, Lizzie."

Elizabeth spun to see a dark figure lumbering toward her, the movements unnatural, awkward. But she recognized the voice. She tried to focus, realizing her best bet was to shift. But before she could change, Brody was on top of her, his weight driving away both her focus and her breath. She tried to struggle, but his sheer size made it virtually impossible, even with her preternatural strength.

"There's no point fighting," he said, his breath hot on her face. "But if it's a fight you want... "

The last thing she remembered was a thundering blow to the side of her face.

Chapter 23.

Jensen wheeled into Elizabeth's driveway, the tires skidding as he braked sharply to a stop. He jammed the gearshift into Park, and jumped out of the truck without bothering to turn off the ignition.

Again, even though it wasn't possible, he sensed that she was here-or had been here. How she could have beaten him was a mystery. Even with the time wasted, while his grandfather grilled him about how an injured woman could have escaped from his second-floor window.

Whichwas a mystery, he had to admit. Although there were a lot of implausible, mysterious things about her. But she had escaped. And she had been here.

He paused at the fact that he kept thinkinghad been . She had to be here-where else would she go? He ran up to the house, not bothering to knock. "Elizabeth?" He checked the kitchen, then bounded up the stairs. Before he even checked the second bedroom, he knew the house was empty. Again, he didn't question how, he didn't waste his time.

He raced back downstairs, heading to the only other place she could be. The barn.

But he hadn't even stepped into the old building before he realized she was not there, either.

s.h.i.t. Where was she? He knew she'd been there. Her smell still hung faintly in the air.

Again he wondered how the h.e.l.l he knew these things, but he also had the very unnerving feeling that he

didn't have time to question them.

Elizabeth was in terrible trouble. Images of that beast from last night flashed in his mind.

He ran back to his truck, ramming the gearshift into reverse, a spray of gravel flying as he whipped the

truck around and raced to the only other place he could think to look for her. Leo's.

Jensen strode into the bar, scanning the room for long, dark hair and pale eyes. She wasn't there. Again, that certainty filled him. Along with complete fear. He needed to protect her, and he didn't even know where to find her.

"Jensen?"

He turned to see Christian approaching him.

"Hey. Have you seen Elizabeth tonight?" He knew the answer already, but he had to ask. Her trail

couldn't just disappear.

"No." Christian immediately looked very concerned. "Why? What happened?"

Jensen tried to find the best way to start. Given what he'd already experienced of Christian's temper, he

decided it wasn't wise to mention the shooting. In fact, he had no idea where to start. Jumping out his

bedroom window didn't sound particularly great, either. "Hey, Jensen, where's Elizabeth?" Sebastian strolled up, only to stop a few feet from him, eyes widening as if he'd just witnessed something shocking about Jensen's appearance.

He suspected he looked pretty d.a.m.ned frazzled. He sure as h.e.l.l felt frazzled. h.e.l.l, he was scared. Bone-deep scared, and he couldn't even say why, exactly. "What's going on?" Sebastian frowned. "I can't find Elizabeth. She disappeared from my house and when I went to hers, she was missing. And I have a really, really bad feeling about it." "That's not good," Sebastian stated, looking worried himself. "No, it's not," Christian agreed. "Did she say anything to you before she disappeared?" "No. She didn't. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?" Jensen again got a strange vibe, but this time not from the brothers. He glanced at the door in time to see three large biker-types walk through the door. He instantly recognized them from the other night. Jensen noticed that Christian and Sebastian also watched them as they approached the bar.

"Interesting," Sebastian said.

"Do you know them?" Jensen asked.

"No," Sebastian said. "But I'm willing to bet they might know Elizabeth."

Jensen frowned, wondering why that would be the case. But at this point, he was willing to go with any

idea the strange brothers had.

Still, he couldn't help asking, "Why do you think they would know her?"

But the brothers didn't answer; instead, Christian headed back to the bar to take their drink orders.

Jensen walked to the bar, too, but took a bar stool one seat down from the biker guys. The one closest to Jensen was liberally tattooed in an image of a full moon with clouds and a moonlit landscape.

For some reason, Jensen found the image enthralling.

"Stop staring at him," Sebastian hissed as he took the stool beside Jensen.

Jensen started, but did as Sebastian said, realizing it was probably a very bad idea to stare at a guy like that.

Christian returned to the bikers, placing mugs of beer in front of them. The men just nodded their thanks.

"Chatty," Sebastian commented quietly.

Jensen nodded. Yeah, they needed to be a lot more forthcoming if they had any hope of getting any

information. He frowned. As if these guys would know anything about Elizabeth.

"Why, again, do we think these people know Elizabeth?" Jensen was really wondering about these

brothers.

"Because they are-wearing-biker clothes. And Elizabeth-used to-travel with a biker-crowd."

Jensen stared at Sebastian. That was the most ridiculous and far-out explanation he'd ever heard.

Something was definitely not right here. "There have to be hundreds of thousands of bikers roaming the U.S. Why do you think these three might know her? And even if they do, know her whereabouts?"

Sebastian cast a quick look over at the couples. "There aren't many roaming around quite like these guys." Before Jensen could ask what that meant, Christian returned to the trio. "How are the beers?" Again, the men offered noncommittal replies. "So, are you just traveling through?" Christian kept his tone conversational as he wiped down the bar. "Yeah," the one with the tattoo said, then took a long swallow of his beer. "That's good." Christian nodded, obviously trying to think of a new angle to get these guys to talk. "We don't get a lot of your type-this time of year." One of the men, Jensen wasn't sure who, grunted.

"This is a waste of time," Jensen muttered to Sebastian.

Sebastian didn't answer; instead, his expression was far away, as if he was concentrating very hard on something. Just as Jensen decided to repeat himself, Sebastian glanced at him.

"No, I think we are on the right track."

Jensen frowned. "Why would you think that?" Boy, these guys were nuts.

"Because Christian is making them nervous."

Jensen glanced back over to the bikers. One sipped his beer, the other two stared straight ahead,