SnaredbySaber Page 2

  “Scarlett said one of them booked on behalf of the other. I want a visual before I agree to go ahead. I’ll deliver their luggage,” Felix said and stood to leave. “If we don’t like them after the capture, we can change our minds, right? They don’t need to know the capture might become permanent?”

  “You can change your mind if you don’t gel with your capture.” Saber hoped like hell that wouldn’t happen. “Leo, you should check them out again too. Help Felix with the delivery.”

  Leo muttered under his breath but pushed away from the wall and stomped after Felix.

  “What’s up with Leo?” Joe asked.

  “I was hoping you knew,” Saber said.

  “We know nothing,” Sly replied with a mischievous glance at his twin. “Do you need us to do anything? I’ve got animals to feed and the irrigation system is playing up again.”

  “No, that’s fine. Just make sure you don’t miss the welcome party,” Saber warned. “And if the zylon population is increasing again, we need you both on the hunt tonight.”

  Joe flashed a cheeky grin and saluted. “Aye-aye, bro.”

  “We wouldn’t miss the opening party for Mission Capture,” Sly said, his grin a replica of his twin’s.

  Saber snorted and waved them out. He’d planned and schemed and lied to get to this point. The captures would work. They had to because he’d run out of options.

  A tap sounded on his door and he straightened from his slump. “Yeah?”

  The door opened and his mother, Anna Mitchell, walked in. She took a seat in front of his desk. “Everything set for the welcome reception? Can I do anything to help?”

  His mother was tall and slender, her black hair long and without a hint of gray. She was the sole Mitchell without green eyes. He and his siblings took after their father in appearance. A widow of five years, his mother surprised most people when they learned she had six adult offspring. “No, Ma. We’ve planned for every possible contingency. I just hope this crazy plan works.”

  “It worked for our ancestors,” she said, her gray eyes flinty with determination. “The original Saber Mitchell met Emily Scarlett at the first Middlemarch dance in New Zealand.”

  “But we’re going to keep the women against their will. I don’t think our ancestors went to that extreme.”

  Anna made a scoffing sound. “Females enjoy a man who takes control, one who protects them and makes them feel feminine. Every guest at the resort is dying to use the capture-fantasy room. Many of them fantasize about forced sex. We’re providing a legitimate service, and the women who are chosen will be lucky to secure one of my gorgeous sons in return.” She reached over and patted his hand. “Don’t worry, son. Everything will work out for the best. It did for our ancestors. You only have to read Emily’s diaries to know how happy she and Saber were together.”

  Saber prayed his mother was right. “Did Scarlett finish researching the Tigrus race? I want to know how compatible they’d be with us.”

  “She said she sent the last of the information you requested to your private mini-tab.”

  “Thanks.”

  Anna stood and glided to the door. “I’m going to mingle with the women and check that everything is going smoothly.”

  Once again Saber stared at the closed door and hoped like hell this crazy plan went the way they hoped.

  He slumped in his chair, exhausted—both mentally and physically. Tired of fighting for survival. Tired of looking after their people.

  Just tired.

  * * * * *

  The welcome party was in full swing when Saber walked into the function room flanked by his brothers. His nostrils flared, quivered at the scent of lust thick on the air. His stride faltered as the wave hit him, reminded him he was a healthy feline male who hadn’t had a woman for months.

  Felix gave a soft whistle while Leo cursed under his breath.

  “Everyone seems happy,” Joe said in patent understatement. “Even Laurence is smiling for a change.”

  Music played and several females were dancing with employees. Laughter and excited chatter battled the music, and some of the tension lifted from Saber’s shoulders. Everyone looked happy. In fact, all the men they employed were talking or dancing with their guests. Doing their job, including Laurence, the brother of Saber’s dead fiancée, which marked a change.

  Taking care to keep his breaths shallow Saber said in a low voice, “Go and check out the women on our list. Dance with them, speak with them and come to a decision. We need to cement our plans.”

  As his brothers wandered off, Saber observed the partygoers. A flash of red caught his attention, and he turned to watch a woman progress to the bar. She wasn’t exceptionally beautiful like some of the other women, and was on the skinny side, yet something undefinable kept his gaze stitched in place. The red gown followed the lines of her body, its short length showcasing her legs and cupping her backside. Her footwear consisted of a series of crisscrossed black straps and heels that elevated her height. She chatted with the bar staff, shared a smile with the other women who sat at the bar and politely turned down a request to dance.

  Interesting. He hadn’t noticed any other woman saying no. Most were here to enjoy themselves and interact with the men.

  Saber stalked closer, his mind taking in the small details and matching them against his brothers’ tastes. Honey-blonde hair, swept into some complicated style that made a man think about messing it up. A slight, petite frame. Bright blue eyes the color of the cornflowers his mother used to grow swept over him, dismissed him without pause.

  Saber felt his mouth drop open and snapped it shut. Her rejection rankled. Miffed, he took a step toward her before common sense reasserted itself.

  He wanted mates for his brothers.

  He wanted them settled.

  Happy.

  This was business, and his own physical needs weren’t paramount.

  Saber changed direction and hit the far end of the bar. He signaled for a drink and turned to survey the room before his gaze tracked back to the woman. Another female joined Blondie. Tall and regal with ruthlessly short black hair, she was dressed in a deep-blue dress with a dramatic slit up one side.

  His attention shifted back to Blondie—just in time to see Felix swoop. Minutes later, Leo joined them and started chatting with the friend.

  Saber watched for a few seconds longer, batted back the surge of inappropriate resentment and decided everything was going well. He wasn’t needed. His brothers knew what to do, and for once they were following orders. He downed his drink and stopped to chat now and then, pulling out his rusty social skills to flirt and drag responding smiles from their female guests. Some of the women were stunning beauties, others not so much, yet their smiles and excitement, their enjoyment, made them all rate a second inspection.

  He wove through the guests and employees, the lustful scents starting to get to him.

  “Saber.” His sister Scarlett waved him over to where she was sitting by the terrace doors.

  He dropped onto a seat beside her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to check out the guests, get a feeling for them.” She delicately sniffed the air and grimaced. “Sucks to be a shifter sometimes.” Her gaze drilled into him. “I didn’t get to spend long on reception because you had me running background checks all day.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice a fraction. “One of the women in chalet twenty-five doesn’t have any family, although there was some scandal about her accusing her in-laws of murdering her husband. Nothing came of her allegations, and I haven’t been able to discover anything recent on the subject.”

  “Pity we don’t have time to visit her residence and ask questions in person. I worry we’ll miss something important,” Saber said. “What about the other one?”

  “She comes from a military background, although sources say she doesn’t spend her leave with her family. She seems closer to an aunt—her mother’s sister. If we grabbed her, the military might become involved. The
woman with no family might make things easier.”

  Saber tapped his fingers on his thigh. “True. Or maybe we should scoop up both women. If they both disappeared we’d have some breathing space, rather than leaving one behind who might cause problems and raise the alarm.”

  “Good point,” Scarlett said. “We’re treading a delicate line with our capture plan.”

  Low, throaty laughter came from a neighboring couple. It was sexy and suggestive and the insinuation transmitted with ease. The resort employee stood and held out his hand to the woman, a Dalcon local, Saber thought.

  “Care for a walk along the beach?” the man asked.

  The laughter was a purr of response this time as she accepted his hand and stood.

  Saber shot a glance at his sister. “You shouldn’t be here, Scarlett. It’s not right.”

  Scarlett reached over and rapped her fist against his skull. “Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?”

  Saber ducked out of reach. “Cut it out.”

  “Then stop treating me like a kid. I know what sex is, Saber.”

  “Who told you about sex? Tell me so I can shoot their kneecaps.”

  “Saber!”

  Saber grinned, silently acknowledging his sister was an adult. She wasn’t a cute kid tagging after him anymore. “We’re going hunting for zylon once this winds down. You wanna come?”

  “You’re on. Bet I catch more cute fluffies than you.”

  “You can try,” Saber said.

  Romantic cooing sounded outside and Scarlett grimaced. “Ugh, I’ve seen enough. I’ll see you later.” She stood and sashayed out the terrace doors. She paused to remove her shoes before stepping onto the sandy beach.

  Saber watched his sister until she blended with the darkness. They had a couple of days to observe and decide. Maybe this capture scenario was bizarre and risky, but he was doing it for his family. Once they were settled the burden of responsibility would lessen, and he wouldn’t need to worry as much about his family’s future. He could relax.

  * * * * *

  The door to the Dalcon restaurant burst open, the heavy wood crashing against the wall.

  Robbie Campbell leaped to his feet, his cane toppling to the tiled floor with a clatter. “Who—who are you? W-what do you want?”

  “Where is she?”

  Robbie gaped at the mountainous bald guy blocking the doorway. He stared at the broken door lock then back at the man. He swallowed. Hard. His heart stalled for an instant then battered his ribs like a captured wild creature attempting escape. “Who are y-you looking for?”

  “Stand aside, man,” a second voice said. A feminine voice.

  The nanosecond Robbie heard her imperious order, he stiffened, cursing under his breath. This wouldn’t end well. He felt it in his gut.

  The woman stalked into the empty restaurant. “Where is she?” she repeated, crisp and to the point. Her voice didn’t match her regal station or her high-class grooming. Her hard expression didn’t go with the outfit either, and Robbie would bet the woman’s titled Dalcon friends didn’t often see this side of the Dearbhorgaill matriarch, not unless they landed on her shit list.

  Like Eva, and by extension, him.

  No point in trying to dodge questions. Mr. Brute would beat the facts out of him. Hellfire, Lady Almeda Dearbhorgaill would order him beaten anyway—no matter what he did or said or how he begged.

  “She went away for the weekend with her friend Casey. To some resort. It was a surprise for Eva’s birthday so I don’t know her location.”

  “I require her signature on some paperwork. When will she return?”

  “Casey said they’d be away for five solar days.”

  Lady Dearbhorgaill scowled, then a crafty grin crawled across her features and it was the scariest thing Robbie had seen since the day a bovinebeest charged him in the forest and injured his leg when he was a youth. Hellfire, he owed Eva his loyalty but at what cost? What would the lady bitch do next?

  “Call her.”

  Robbie hadn’t managed to contact Eva since her com-circle cut out abruptly. He wasn’t worried—much.

  Robbie picked up his com-circle and pushed a button. Anticipating the next order, he put the unit on speaker so they could all hear the summoning tone. Robbie ended the call and stated the obvious. “She’s not answering. Must be out of range.”

  “But I need that signature.”

  A trace of desperation echoed in the crisp notes, poking at Robbie’s curiosity. Not that he was cracked enough to ask questions. Oh no. He kept his lips firmly closed, his gaze downcast to offer the respect the Dalcon elite expected from the lower castes.

  “How are you paying the wages, the bills while she’s away?”

  “She left me several signed transfer certificates.”

  “I’ll take them. Give them to me. All of them.”

  The wild creature in his chest took flight again, bashing the hell out of his ribs and attempting a new escape path up his throat. Gaze still downcast, he limped toward the small office at the back of the restaurant. His knees trembled and for one horrid moment, he wondered if they’d fail and land him in a face plant on the floor.

  Aware of the woman and the hulk at his back, he forced his legs to bear his weight and made it to the office. He sank to his knees, his hands sweaty and trembling when he turned the old-fashioned dial of the safe back and forth to the pre-set positions. He pushed down on the handle and the multi-locks disengaged. Robbie’s breath hissed out with relief. At least he hadn’t messed that up.

  He picked up the large envelope bearing the currency transfer certificates. They were all blank and already signed by Eva.

  “How many are there?” Lady Dearbhorgaill demanded.

  “Th-three,” Robbie said.

  “Perfect.” Her eyes glittered in a kind of sick triumph. “Ready cash?”

  Robbie gulped. “Not much. Just a float for when we open. I-I’ve already been to the bank.” Hellfire, he hoped the old bitch believed him.

  “I’ll take that too.”

  Robbie grabbed a faux-cotton bag and thrust it at the woman. She took it and shoved it inside her bag along with the envelope.

  “Knock him out. Toss the place. Give the appearance of a robbery,” she said, and exited the restaurant without looking back.

  No remorse.

  No concern.

  No guilt.

  Just an uppity rich woman who thought she ruled the world.

  Robbie blinked when the hulk lunged from his position. For a big dude, he moved fast. Robbie felt the rush of wind against his face seconds before the fist connected with his jaw. That was the last thing he remembered.

  * * * * *

  “Rob. Rob-bie.” Someone was shaking the crap out of him. “Robbie, wake up.”

  Robbie groaned. His eyes flickered. Everything hurt. Especially his head.

  “He’s okay. He’s alive,” a female voice said. “Did ya call security?”

  “On their way,” a man said.

  “What happened?” Robbie pushed himself into a sitting position. Nausea clawed its way up from his stomach and he swallowed.

  “Don’t you remember?” Dina, one of the waitresses, crouched at his side.

  “I…” He gazed around the restaurant, took in the toppled chairs and the wrecked tables. The lack of liquor bottles behind the bar. “Someone broke in.”

  “They’ve wrecked the place, taken food and booze. The safe is open,” Dina said, her thin pixie face a shade paler than normal.

  The clomp of boots had Robbie turning his head. The security men had arrived.

  “What happened?” one of the uniformed men demanded.

  “Someone burst through the door. They must’ve knocked me out. That’s all I remember,” Robbie said.

  “Insurance paperwork’s in order,” a second security man said after pushing a few buttons and reading the screen of his genic mini-tab. “We can proceed. Take his statement while I question the neighboring traders.”

&n
bsp; Dina helped Robbie to his feet and righted a chair for him. He sank onto it. “Water,” he gasped, and while Dina rushed to get water, his brain slipped back into gear.

  Well hell. Eva had been right.

  The stupid old bitch had taken the bait.

  Chapter Two

  Something woke Eva. An out-of-place noise. A faint rustle. A footfall?

  She sat up in bed, eyes straining to pierce the darkness of their chalet. “Casey?”

  Casey didn’t answer.

  “C-Casey?” Although she aimed for a firm timbre, her voice emerged coated with fear because her gut was screaming something was wrong. Casey was a light sleeper. Why wasn’t she answering?

  A prickling sensation crawled up her spine while her gaze roved the darkness, searching, searching, searching, as senses honed from growing up on the streets worked overtime.

  Someone, something was in their chalet.

  “Casey, are you there?” Her friend hadn’t been sleeping well during the two solar days they’d been at the resort and sometimes went for a walk along the beach. Maybe that was it. She’d woken just as Casey was leaving. She listened for an instant longer and heard nothing. Slowly, she willed her body to relax, her breathing to return to normal.

  A black shape leaped at her without warning. She screamed, scrambled back, away. A hand slapped over her mouth. Another pushed her flat to the mattress. Memories rose like a specter, tossed her into a thick pool of fear.

  “Keep still. I’m not going to hurt you,” a masculine voice growled against her ear.

  Her breath seesawed in and out. A shudder went through her. He wasn’t going to get her again. He wasn’t.

  She was stronger now. More capable.

  She let her body go limp, waited for her captor to relax…

  Then kicked, connecting with hard muscle.

  “Fuck,” he snarled and grabbed her roughly.

  With a screech, she sank her teeth into his arm and bit down until blood flowed into her mouth. He bellowed, flinging her away. She was up and racing for the door before he could seize her again.

  “Oomph!” She blundered into a low table, bashing her shins. The table skidded across the tiles, signaling her location.