Bethany's Rite Read Online Free PDF Page A

they
were made? Do you know who had them made? Anything about my family?” She
gripped the table so hard the edge of it bit into her palms. She welcomed the
sensation. It kept her grounded enough not to launch herself over their drinks
and shake the information out of him.
    Before she could rattle off the other dozen and more
questions on the tip of her tongue, Wyc bolted from the booth, grabbed her hand
and pulled her out of her seat.
    “What are you doing?” She pulled against him, but he ignored
her protests as easily as he ignored her struggles.
    He didn’t look back as he dragged her through the swinging
door leading into the kitchen. They nearly ran Sharon over as she turned from
the pass-though with a tray full of dishes.
    “Hey,” she shouted, grabbing a plate of fries and chicken
strips before it could slide off her tray. “You can’t come back here.”
    Wyc glanced around. “Which way to the back door?” The sharp
bite to his question made Sharon take half a step back. Wyc growled and glared
at the older woman. His grip never lessened on Bethany’s hand. “Which way?”
    “There.” Sharon pointed to the left and immediately Bethany
was hauled in that direction. Past a surprised busboy who barely managed to
escape being mown down by the six-and-a-half foot mass of fury and motion Wyc
had turned into.
    A cook was opening the large, walk-in refrigerator when Wyc
shoved it shut to pass. The man spun around with a curse and Wyc shouldered him
out of the way as easily as he would a skinny, eight-year-old girl. Bethany
turned to apologize, but only got out a few stuttered syllables before Wyc
yanked her through the heavy delivery door at the rear of the kitchen and
slammed it shut behind them. Once in the back alley, Wyc thrust her between two
large garbage dumpsters.
    She jerked out of his grasp and spun to face him. “What
the—”
    “Stay put and be quiet.”
    For a moment, she was shocked enough to actually obey his
command. But it was a brief moment. Then she grabbed enough of her wits to give
him a piece of her mind, but he had already turned to face the alley, granting
her his back. Furious, she launched herself at him, pushing against his shoulders
with as much force as she could muster in the small space he had stuffed her
in.
    Her palms slapped against solid muscle. Warm muscle under
soft cotton that didn’t budge even when she braced a foot on the brick wall
behind her for extra leverage. The only effect she seemed to produce was
irritation as he shot her a quick glare over his shoulder.
    Wyc’s wide shoulders blocked her view into the alley, but
his relaxed stance assured her that whatever reason he had for dragging her out
of the restaurant couldn’t be too serious.
    “Thought that was you, Kilth. And just when this retrieval
assignment was getting boring.”
    The words originated somewhere just in front of Wyc, and a
chill passed over her skin. She sank against the diner’s back wall. Though
unable to see the man addressing Wyc, she recognized the ugly threat in his
voice that went beyond menace. It rolled over her like oily sludge, and she
fought down a shudder.
    Wyc made a derisive noise and shook his head. “You’re more
delusional than normal, Enath, if you think there’s anything here for you. And
as much as I’d love to pound your ass into the ground, I’m running a little
short on time today.”
    A low chuckle slid around Wyc to scrape along her scalp. “I
know she’s behind you. I can smell her. And she’s ripe for harvesting. You can
move, or you can die. Either way, I’m taking her with me.”
    “She’s matched.”
    “There are ways around that. Not much fun for her, but a
hell of a show.”
    Wyc’s response was a low snarl, more animal than human.
Definitely a scary sound.
    No matter how she took it, this was not a normal exchange,
even between two men fighting over a woman. The whole dash through the
restaurant hadn’t unnerved her nearly as much as this