Table of Contents

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Barbara J. Hancock

CAPTURED

Barbara J. Hancock

www.loose-id.com Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLCs e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by underaged readers. ***** DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles. Captured Barbara J. Hancock This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Published by Loose Id LLC 870 Market St, Suite 1201 San Francisco CA 94102-2907 www.loose-id.com Copyright May 2009 by Barbara J. Hancock All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions. eISBN 978-1-59632-932-4 Printed in the United States of America Editor: Venessa Giunta Cover Artist: Marci Gass

Chapter One
Maya burst out the back door of the old abandoned farmhouse. Her shoulder scraped the doorjamb, but she ignored the pain. She slipped on the wet, overgrown grass of the backyard that had been soaked in last nights rain. The soggy ground slowed her down. The bright morning sun blinded her and hurt her eyes. She fell down to one knee and jumped up to run again. With panicked lungs, she fought to catch her breath. She made it out of the yard and into a neighboring field. And then the hunters surrounded her. Like a blur of ominous shadows, they came out of the light to swallow her up. They were dressed in dark leather and mismatched fatigues, but it seemed to her as if their darkness came from some internal source. There was nowhere left to run. Two men, one on each side, grabbed her. She didnt fight. She didnt cry out in fear or pain, even though their hands were rough and bit hard into the flesh of her arms. She wasnt dead. But for long moments, as the cold handcuffs bit into her scarred wrists, as her deepest, darkest fears of recapture were realized, Maya wished she were. The wish made her cheeks burn. Fingers dug into her shoulders and pushed her to her knees. She kept her chin down and clasped her hands together as if in prayer. She was thankful that long sheets of once-immaculately styled blonde hair kept her embarrassment hidden. She wouldnt go back. She couldnt go back, but even worse than returning to the research hospital, where they could continue to poke and prod and try to figure out what made her tick, was the very real possibility that they would use her to capture her sister. No way. Maya swallowed against the knot of fear in her throat as it threatened to cut off her air supply. She swallowed. She breathed. Slowly, shakily, in and out, in and out. Those calming breaths were a triumph for her. She claimed the oxygen filling her with life and pushed the momentary weakness of a death wish away. Her heart still raced. Her blood still pounded in her ears. She still felt like a cornered rabbit about to be forced back into its cage after a sudden flight of freedom. But she breathed. Sometimes you had to take pleasure in the simple things. The sun warmed the crown of her bowed head. The moist spring grass cushioned her knees, and its fresh, verdant fragrance rose up to fill her nose. Cold metal tables

waited, as did needles and masked strangers, but Mayas pulse rate slowed. Here, now, kneeling in the sun, she found a quick second of peace. A pair of military-style boots approached accompanied by the jangle of chains. Maya meant to hold fast and continue to breathe, but the noise of the chains and the way a chunky heel of one boot inexorably crushed a patch of delicate buttercups made her flinch. Her clasped hands tightened until her knuckles turned white. The man who had forced her to her knees laughed. She wasnt surprised. He had cuffed her with a huge grin on his face as if her tragedy was his entertainment. The flower-cruncher allowed one end of his chain to dangle in front of her face. Sunlight glimmered off the silver links, and Maya blinked. Even with her head bowed, she found the bright morning was almost too much for her eyes. After six months of captivity, she had grown accustomed to darkness. She hadnt been free long enough to adjust. Her hospital room had been windowless and lit only by scant fluorescent light. Often, shed been submerged in a sensory deprivation tank, to control her powers or to test their limits, she never knew for certain. Since she had escaped, she had slept during the day and traveled at night, but the storm had forced her to seek shelter, and now she was caught. Maya straightened her shoulders and rejected the urge to cringe away from the chain that now slithered across the bare skin of her upper arm. When the cold links slid over her left breast, her nipple hardened of its own volition, and she shivered. She couldnt stop them from being amused at her plight, she couldnt help that they liked her on her knees, but she could at least stay outwardly calm. In her chest, her heart fluttered like a butterfly caught in a cruel net. On the outside, she composed herself, willing her body to be as still as stone. Never let them see you sweat. It was a good mottountil the scientists shot you up with something that made you shimmy and shake like a lycanthropy victim in the final throes. No. She wouldnt think of hypodermic needles or stony-faced scientists or the hospital bed with her name on it. She wouldnt think of the lycanthropy outbreak that had changed the world or the werewolf attack that had changed her and her sisters world on a much more personal level. She wouldnt think. The cool chain feathered across her skin, but she didnt move. The flowercrusher stepped nearer, bringing the heat of his arousal close to her bowed face, but she didnt cry. It helped that all her perceptions were a bit bleary around the edges. The newly risen sun in the cloudless sky caused everyone and everything to be gilded with a golden haze. Dont touch her, Wiseman. Not if you have any secrets you want to keep. The flower-crusher, aka Wiseman, stopped just shy of brushing his cock against her cheek. She knew he wanted to choke herand not with his hands. The warning

not to touch her had come from another man with the sun at his back so that he was nothing but a dark hulk ringed by sunlight. Im not afraid of a witch, Wiseman growled back. His temper would result in tighter bindings for her. Not for the first time, she wished she were a witch. She could definitely use some double, double, toil and trouble to come to her rescue right about now. Maybe a nose twitch or two. Heck, a rabbit out of a hat would be something solid, something better than being the frightened bunny herself. Scientists had discovered her psychic abilities at the hospital after the attack. People like her were called witches because their abilities were seen as magical even though research had proved that their power rose from something as simple as mutations in their genetic code. Since the lycanthropy disease had begun to spread, people were more superstitious than ever. Nothing like hard evidence that one monster was real to make you believe in everything youd ever feared in the dark. As it was, Maya didnt need clairvoyant visions to know Wisemans mind was somewhere she didnt want to go. Shed already seen and felt enough from him. Inadvertently, she shivered. In these desperate times, people were prone to paranoia. If you were different and you knew what was good for you and yours, you stayed hidden. Unfortunately, the government was very, very good at hide-and-seek. Maya fought a sudden crazy urge to jump up and shout, Abracadabra, at the top of her lungs. It might be sweet to see the flower-crushing Wiseman wet his pants, but considering her hands would still be cuffed and she would still be surrounded by a dozen mercenaries, she figured the price for her momentary pleasure would be too great. Instead, she waited. She knew Wiseman would love to prove his machismo to his comrades. This knowing was a talent shed had since shortly after a werewolf had decided she and her sister looked like a yummy treat. Even dulled as her powers were by the mental lockdown that had become second nature to her, she still had this power of hyperintuitiveness. Ta-da. Claws might have been nicer. It was an irreverent thought. A horrible thought. And one that left her whispering a soft plea for forgiveness from her sister. Chains slid and skittered with metallic clinks as Wiseman bent over her kneeling form. She braced herself. The cuffs were bad enough. She was well and truly trapped. And her fluttering pulse knew it. The chains wouldnt make her any less free, but she feared them nonetheless. She knew the claustrophobic helplessness that would claim her as soon as her arms and legs were totally immobilized.

Maya decided she would fight. She would kick and bite and scream before she submitted calmly to Wisemans chains, no matter how hopeless it seemed. Her freedom had come at such a price that she couldnt surrender it without a fight. When her captors had started to unlock her secrets, when she didnt know how much longer she could hide the knowledge that her sister was a full-fledged werewolf, she had used every trick at her disposal to escape. She could never go home again. She would be alone and on the run for as long as she survived. She had abandoned Sasha in order to save her. She wouldnt let these mercenaries negate that sacrifice. The scream had risen all the way up into her throat as Wiseman brought the chain around her chest, but it gurgled to a halt as he was interrupted. Does she look like a werewolf to you, Private? Mayas chin came up. A new man approached. Moving away from her, Wiseman dropped the chain in the wet grass, where it coiled like a silvery snake waiting to strike. The others made way for the new man to move forward. Even with her sun-dazzled eyes, she saw their movements as hurried and deferential. The new arrival was obviously in charge. Out of the frying pan into the A vision began. It was a kiss, a simple, impossible kiss. A firm, warm masculine mouth slid against hers, open just enough so that she felt a hint of moisture. A questing tongue teased her lips, then beyond them to rub, rough and slick, as it found the hidden hollows of her mouth. It was a tasting, but it was also a slow but steady scaling of the mental walls that had kept her locked away from sweet, sweet contact for far too long. Maya felt as she would feel in the future when the kiss took place. Emboldened but terrified. Supported but set free. Embraced but breathless as if she faced a free fall into the unknown. It wasnt easy to fight the vision off. She could do it. Shed had to learn to do it since the world had gone dark and her visions of the future were more often than not even darker than the present. Sasha thought she was dead. And Maya still fought to keep her safe, every second of every day. But she was out of practice. She hadnt realized until they were forcefully separated how much of her strength came from Sasha, for Sasha. It was harder to stay strong for her while they were apart, but she had done it. She did it now. Mayas head swam, but she stayed conscious. Her lips were tender and her skin heated. She pushed the sensations away and focused on the man who so obviously held her fate in his hands. Visions flickered like strobe lights behind her eyes, but even those intimate future kisses couldnt take away from the way the mans confident grace caught her attention. It wasnt a swagger, though it was proud. It wasnt a march, though it was

strong. It was as if his movements were fueled by an inner fire, an inner energycontained. She didnt need the other mens reaction to his presence to know he was dangerous. He looked prepared, as if he was accustomed to erupting out of a stroll into action at the blink of an eye. Instinctively, Maya rose to her feet. No one objected. The new man drew every eye to him. It was as if the field itself shifted until the tall stranger was the center of the universe. She wasnt going to fall into orbit like the others and rotate around the sun of his forceful presence. And yet, she stood. She also longed for a wayward cloud to somehow materialize and block the suns blinding beams. She told herself it was because a crisp, clear look at this new mans face would hold the visionary world at bay, but part of her wanted, needed, a clear view of the mans face, because of the vision. Tell me if you see claws or fangs, Wiseman. No, no claws, Shepherd. Shes a witch. We dont waste chains on psychics. Shes cuffed. Shes caught. Anything more is not only unnecessary, its flamboyant. Do I look like I do flamboyant? Shepherds voice was low and controlled. Too controlled. His patient tone suggested that the man himself had very little patience for what he considered theatrics on Wisemans part. It didnt soothe her to see Wiseman squirm. Ultimately, the more powerful Shepherd controlled not only Wiseman, but also her. No, it wasnt soothing to see the muscle-bound mercenary squirm. Not at all. Maya squinted. She couldnt help it. Suddenly, she was very, very afraid. The vision kiss had happened when Shepherd had spoken. She couldnt see his expression. His face was a mystery to her, but her fingers twitched behind her back because she thought maybe, just maybe, the feel of his warm, moist lips was not. Maya watched Wiseman shake his head as she tried not to panic. She clenched her rebellious fingers and pretended their twitching wasnt anticipation. You play with a wolf, you die. Plain and simple. Break a bad habit now before it gets you killed. This area is known for werewolf activity, gentlemen. Dont get distracted. And, Wiseman, give the prisoner your sunglasses. She needs to see to make her way to the truck. All the men stopped in their tracks. They had been prepared to get back to work, but obviously, the lesson hadnt ended yet. Maya looked from the hesitant Wiseman to the expectant Shepherd and back again. She was impressed. He had seen her squint and surmised its cause even as he disciplined his men, even as he barely glanced her way. If she was a powerful seer, we wouldnt have been able to trap her. She never saw us coming, Shepherd said.

Tactfully, Maya bit her tongue. She didnt think shed get those sunglasses if she admitted that shed known today would be bad. Shed tried to avoid it, but it had caught up with her anyway. Sometimes knowing and knowing what to dotwo very different things. The man who had taunted her with the chain looked green, but he didnt move. The tension in the air said anyone seldom, if ever, balked when ordered to do something by Shepherd. With an attitude of controlled patience, Shepherd came closer. Maya held her breath. It was either that or gasp, and she did not want to go there. Please God, let it not be his lips she had just tasted in her vision. She hoped the vision hadnt heightened her awareness of him as a man. She prayed it was simply that her awareness of him as a threat was already as high as it could go. He was only a few steps away. With easy movements, he lifted one arm to snag Wisemans sunglasses from the privates face as he passed. The sunlight winked on their lenses, and Maya let out the breath shed been holding in a quick sigh of relief, only to try to gulp it back when he narrowed the gap between them from a few steps to a few inches. She tilted her chin. How could she not? He topped her five feet six inches by at least another five. As he came into focus, Maya tried to breathe lightly. She tried not to be shaken to her toes. His eyes were blue. His face was lean and angular and perfect. His hair was dark and wavy, so dark it glinted in the sun as blue-black highlights kissed the crest of every wave. Kissed. Maya blinked and forgot to be afraid for several seconds. Then he moved to place the sunglasses on her nose, and once again, she felt like a cornered rabbit. She closed her eyes and held herself completely motionless. He would kiss her. Somewhere, sometime, his lips would touch hers. She had already tasted their firm fullness. As his fingers barely brushed her cheeks, she drew in air too suddenly and too quickly to be anything but a reaction to his touch. He paused with the pads of his thumbs near her hairline at her ears. Maya opened her eyes. Her new clarity of vision revealed more than shed been able to see before. His face was perfectly shaped, but there was a hardness to his mouth and a stiffness to his expression. And a tense muscle along one side of his jaw was highlighted by the fine, thin white line of an old scar that ran from his ear to the tip of his chin. A werewolf had gone for his throat and missed. She knew it just as she knew how the scar would feel against her tongue. She didnt know how or when such an intimate taste could ever possibly happen. She just knew it would. The knowing made her tremble. She didnt want to be in the same

state as this mercenary hunter who had obviously barely survived a wolf attack, much less close enough to Was I wrong to tell Wiseman that this was safe? A dark eyebrow quirked over one bright eye. His voice was husky, as if he was unaccustomed to talking in soft, intimate tones. Maya, who felt about as dangerous as a stuffed bunny at this point, slowly shook her head. His hands touched the sides of her face, and her movements brought her cheeks more fully into contact with his callused fingers. He spread them, lightly seeking further contact, and Maya stilled her movements in response to the tingles his touch raised along her skin. Even as he didnt drop his hands, even as he didnt look away, he spoke to the men behind him. Wolves, gentlemen. From here on out, we only take what we came for. She thought it might be an apology for his mens rough handling of her. She thought she detected the slightest movement of his left thumb as if to test the softness of her skin. She also thought men like Shepherd didnt apologize or caress fugitives like her. The sunglasses were the smoky kind, far from opaque. He had to see the fear in her eyes, but he searched them as if he saw other things as well. Maya was the psychic, but the experience etched on his face made her fear his perception. Had her intimate vision made her eyes too soft, too vulnerable, too welcoming? Heaven forbid she should shoot come-hither glances at her worst enemy. Finally, he took his hands from her face and turned away. Maya rolled her shoulders to ease tense muscles. No one laughed. In fact, the man who had laughed earlier looked as if he could use a good stretch as well. Wiseman herded her to the waiting truck. She wasnt in chains and she could see. She counted those blessings even as her spirits fell. She wanted to protect Sasha. She wanted to be free. But in spite of her fear, she wanted the hunters kiss as well. Those three strong desires were bound to collide.

Chapter Two
They were tracking the largest, most lethal werewolf pack ever tagged, and one of his men decided to play cops and robbers with a beautiful psychic. When hed first seen her in that field of wildflowers, hed thought fairy, not witch. She was so pale and delicate. Shepherd clenched his fists when he remembered Wiseman taunting the helpless prisoner with a chain. Hed wanted to deck the guy for being that twisted, and then hed felt a little bit twisted himself when hed touched her. He didnt have time for

lust. He didnt have time for games. Hed put a stop to Wisemans sick play, but that hadnt stopped him from secretly wondering what it would be like to taste the vulnerable psychics lips. With each and every unit he was given, he saw the steady deterioration of honor and order. He wouldnt allow himself to go that route even as times grew darker. As long as he was in charge, their prisoners werent going to be treated like toys. The key to mankinds survival flowed through the veins of bite survivors. For eight long years, hed believed in little else. Through dark days and even darker nights, hed worked to serve that belief. The psychic hadnt cried. He had watched as shed squared her shoulders and met his gaze with unwavering courage. If victims of werewolf attack didnt volunteer for testing, they were taken. Plain and simple. He donated his own blood on a weekly basis, though he hadnt been bitten. His whole family had died of the lycanthropy virus when it was still airborne, like the common cold. The scientists couldnt explain why some turned, some died, and some recovered as human as theyd ever been. Hed been eighteen and more worried about asking Becca Lee Warren to the prom than Armageddon. There had been less than twenty survivors in his small hometown, all under twenty, and Becca hadnt been one of them. Theyd been too busy to mourn, though so much death, so much loss had become a part of them, day and night. They had banded together, tighter than tight, bound by tragedy and necessity. They became a new family with new priorities, like rat hunting instead of skateboarding and guarding their food stash instead of playing video games. Then werewolves attacked. Some of the wolves may have even been the loved ones theyd lost. Shepherd fingered the scar along his jaw as he always did when he remembered that night. Hed never know why he hadnt been bitten. He had never, not once, felt lucky. If you were bitten, you were no longer human, even if you didnt turn into a full-fledged werewolf. The virus transmitted in a wolfs saliva caused mutations in the victims genes. His genes were untouched, though the attack had changed him. He would never be the same kid hed been before. But his genes were still a-okay. Special ops soldiers found him after the attack. More military than mercenary back then, theyd taken him back to their base. Wolves. He didnt just hunt them. He hated them. If scientists could help mankind come back from the brink of extinction, then Shepherd was more than willing to send a steady supply of test subjects to them. Then again, he never felt comfortable detaining no-gos. He was too often reminded of his own close call. He preferred wolves. Violent wolves. Nothing like a do-or-die fight to replace philosophical shades of gray with survival instinct. The

sooner he could hand off this latest catch to another unit and get back to his specialty, the better. Shepherd, theres a call from HQ. They want her scanned. Wiseman relayed the message with a puffed-out chest and a breathless quality to his voice, as if he were a carrier pigeon that had flown from Fort Lee with the memo in his beak as opposed to simply receiving it on a battered satellite phone. Theyre chipping no-gos now? Shepherd asked. The scientists used microchip implants to maintain detailed histories of all their test subjects as well as for identification and limited tracking. The chips had initially been used only on full-fledged werewolves because they were the most likely to escape. No-gos were victims of bites who didnt turn. The jury was still out on how dangerous no-gos could become. Yeah, Freedom Fighters are getting bolder. Theyve helped too many escape, and its playing havoc with record keeping. Shepherds teeth clicked together, and his jaw started to ache, right about where the metal plate sat beneath his skin to bolt shattered bone together. Damn puppy lovers, Wiseman said, no doubt seeing Shepherds tension and seeming eager to placate the man hed crossed earlier. Want me to do it? Shepherd knew he had to watch for two things. One, that Wiseman would be too afraid of the psychic to properly scan her, and two, that the twisted private would do something cruel or inappropriate to the flower fairy because his fear of her made him angry. Either was unacceptable. Ill take care of it, he decided out loud. He was under control. Hed had nothing but steely control for years. It was his cold armor, the one thing he could depend on in a world gone insane. Besides, the sooner she was scanned, the quicker he could send her back where she belonged. ***** Maya sat in the back of the old military transport watching dust motes dance in the beams of sunlight that leaked through the canvas over her head. The canvas was stretched across metal beams to form a roof, but each seam was aged and frayed to the point that she didnt sit in darkness. When they had left her here, shed tried to see the future, but clairvoyant visions werent easily turned on and off, and the only thing she could do was replay the flashes shed seenand felt and tastedin the field. Flashes about Shepherd. A ruthless mercenary named Shepherd? Shouldnt he be called Blade or Spike or the Angel of Death? He wore leather like a second skin and several polished sheaths. They were obviously not for mere decoration. The sheaths were cared for, but showed evidence of frequent use in the way that they were smooth in the places where a quick draw of a knife would cause rubbing. Shed counted three sheaths, holding wicked kniveson

his waist, his thigh, and his boot. She couldnt imagine the man wearing long, flowing robes or carrying a candy cane-shaped staff. His name shouldnt evoke thoughts of sanctuary. Maya bit her lip. The little nip didnt stop the sensory input her tingling mouth still felt from dream kisses she vowed would never take place. Vow. Shmow. His mouth had looked hard and frowning in the field. In her vision, it had been soft and beguiling against hers. She knew, beneath the worn leather, his lean, muscular form was scarred in places, but firm and warm and smooth in others. She knew his hands were strong and callused, but surprisingly gentle. She knew he tasted of cinnamon. It wasnt okay. It so wasnt okay, but at least she hadnt seen needles and lab coats and gleaming, cruel instruments on a tray. Maya drew in a shaky breath of dusty air. Soon the truck would rumble to life and take her back to hell. She would never see Shepherd again. After all, she was well and truly caught, and the hunter would need to move on to the next quarry and then the next. Dusty air didnt soothe her nerves. Not at all. Logic never swayed her visions, and somehow or another they always came true. As if manifested by that thought, the back flap opened and the truck swayed as Shepherd climbed inside. Maya gasped. She couldnt help it. Dust motes swirled around the man in a cloud, and the sunbeams acted like a hundred miniature spotlights tracking his progress as he moved toward the rear of the truck where she perched on the bench, alone and defenseless against his advance. Surprisingly, it made her angry more than fearful, especially when he spoke three little words. Dont be afraid. So simple. So straightforward. And so out of touch with who she was and what she was going through. Maya tossed her hair back from her face so he could see her glare. The sunglasses were in her pocket now. Private Wiseman had performed the courtesy of placing them there. He had lingered over the whole process of slipping them into her pocket as if he werent scared to death of what she would see in his mind. Youre taking me to the hospital, where they will slowly kill me day after miserable day. How can I not fear that? He paused, possibly surprised by her vehemence. I meant here, now, dont fear me. Just as it had been in the field when he had spoken for her ears alone, his voice was husky. Maya tried to ignore the goose bumps it raised with its intimate, deep

vibrato. She especially tried to ignore the certainty of how it would sound and feel ifwhenhe murmured words against her skin. The crazy thing was that she knew he spoke the truth. The man who quietly drew near to kneel beside her would never physically do her harm, but he was determined to deliver her to those who would. Theyll hurt me, Shepherd. Lots. She thought she saw the hint of stiffness in the way he hunched his shoulders to reach for something on this belt, but she couldnt be sure. I need to check your chip. He held a scanner in his hand, and Maya suddenly had to fight the urge to cry. For one long, miserable second, she felt inhuman, like a can of veggie soup, but then she met Shepherds gaze and she knew he didnt see her that way. He had paused with the scanner poised too far from her heart to take a reading, and he looked at her, man to woman, not man to lab rat. The look asked her permission somehow, even though she was handcuffed, even though she was a fugitive without any rights to speak of. In that second, she could see the glimmer of a possible path to the future her visions had predicted. She allowed herself to look, really look, at the man who knelt beside her. He was young, too young, to have such a hardened face. Twenty-five or twentysix? These days it was hard to tell. Whatever his exact age, he had lived hard for a long, long time. Deep in his eyes, she thought she saw the reflection of her own tragic past. The loss of her mother during the initial wave of airborne pathogen. Struggling to survive after the werewolf attack that came later. Nursing her sister in secret in a world gone mad, while knowing their survival rested on her shoulders, alone. Slowly, not feeling as if it was weak or stupid, Maya nodded, giving him permission to edge closer and begin the scan. Microchips were embedded in a surgical procedure that placed the informationstoring device close to the heart. Any other location made it too easy for werewolves to extract. Maya had been scanned before with her eyes closed and her heart racing. This time, she watched Shepherd. She met his gaze. She wasnt a lab rat. She was a woman, and the chip didnt negate that.