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A gun clicked in her left ear and the sound alone made Piper's stomach drop. She turned toward the dark man holding the handgun, wearing a twisted smile. "Look what we have here, a heathen."

The three Redicious soldiers behind him hooped at the discovery. "What," Piper snarled, "Was your bible camp all boys?"

"I've seen plenty of wolf-whores, in my day." His snarl deepened, revealing a scar on his upper lip.

"I'm not a wolf."

He smiled, "no, your worse. You've got beast blood and you fuck them."

Piper scowled, "go crucify yourself, ugly."

The man's smile turned sour. Piper watched as he lifted his thick fist, pulling it back, before blackness engulfed her.

The mechanical chime of a phone rang, stirring Bran out of the discomfort that arose yesterday afternoon. He had already called Charles twice and both Samuel and Mercy had assured him all was well and yet, the feeling remained. The spirits itched up and down his arms as he reached for the phone in his pocket. His wolf was pacing beneath the surface. Van's name appeared on the screen, making his wolf even more restless.

"Van…"

"Please, tell me she's there with you." The words went down like ice, Bran's hackles rose. He held back the snarling wolf long enough to demand, "What's going on?"

"Piper's missing. She's been gone twenty-four hours."

The image of Piper's brused and bloody body appeared before him. The wolf raged on.

"Why didn't you call sooner!"

Van grew quiet a moment. "She used to do this," he explained, "she said she had a date."

The jealousy both man and wolf felt were irrational, unfair and yet, they practically consumed him.

"What. Did. She. Say."

He sounded uncomfortable, "She said not to wait up. I thought-"

The growl that had escaped from Bran's lips drowned out Van's thoughts.

"I'm coming there. Call me if you hear from her."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Bran let all his anger, his frustration, his power show through in his voice as he spoke. Dangerously calm, he said, "I am the Marrok, boy. I don't care what you think."

He tossed down the phone and began to gather money and necessities. He tried to ignore the wolf raging and his own frantic thoughts, in order to do what was necessary. He made his way to the den, pushing against the false wall. The click and newly exposed guns reassured him, if only momentarily.

"Going somewhere?" Leah snarled from behind him.

He ignored her, continuing to pack ammo and guns into the bag.

"You can't do this!"

She came behind him and he pushed away the arm she tried to lay on him. Pushing past her, he spoke to Charles through their mental link,

Something's happened to Piper. I'm going to Detroit.

-Is she alright?

I don't know. I'll call as soon as I do.

"-fucking whore , aren't you!"

Bran hadn't heard Leah's missed words, but those he had were enough. In an instant, the twenty years meant nothing. What was between him and Leah was broken, it had been for years, perhaps since it began. He hadn't lied to Piper, Bran loved Leah, a type of love one would have for an old friend or someone they felt responsible for. The feelings were altogether different from how he felt for Piper.

Time froze as he stared at the snarling face of his mate. She was carrying on. Waving her hands violently as spit flung from her mouth. The snarl on her face was twisted and Bran saw her for once, not as a sad girl whom he'd mislead, but a cruel woman not worthy of caring and leading any of his wolves.

Silently, he fingered their thread-thin connection within his mind. It was his ability to see his pack bonds as well as his own mate bond, mentally. The pack was connected through a spider-web of interconnected links. Each were strong and somehow came back to his own chain. However, Bran noticed that none stood close to his bond with Leah. Despite being part Alpha for twenty years, she had made no real bonds for herself.

Bran looked closer at their bond. It was jagged and looked as if it had been broken and knotted back together in many places. He looked once more at Leah. She was no longer snarling, vying for now silence as she glared daggars at him.

It's over, he thought. And whether she'd heard him mentally or saw his resignation her expression changed as he tore away the final strand that connected them.

"I'm sorry Leah," was all he said, before turning away from her shocked face.

The hours had slugged by in slow succession. The blood on her face had dried to

crust and her left eye was swollen, matching the bottom left corner of her chin. Three of the men were sprawled on couches in front of her. They were watching some disciple preach on the sins of man.

The tunnel that Piper had come in through was now shut, warded against any further intruders.

Blood dripped from the ropes tied around her hands, from places where her pocket knife had nicked them. She was feverntly thankful the dolts hadn't properly searched her for weapons.

The rope had already spit partially, but still not enough to tug away from her hands. She yanked harder, wincing as the chair scraped loudly against the floor.

The man, Michael, her mind supplied, turned, caught by the sound. A smile came over his face as he stood, making his was over toward the chair. "Ready for more, Piper?"

She scowled at his coo of her name. Somewhere in the middle of last night, he had beaten the word from her lips. The reminder made her feel sick and helpless. Before this man had shown up, Piper had managed to reveal nothing about herself. The others had quotes scripture at her, called her a beast-lover and told how her sins made her life forfeit.

This man, Michael, was different. His face was burned into her face, along with his cruel smile since the night he'd murdered Mac. Piper wasn't sure she'd ever forget the pure glee in his eyes as he shot her brother.

Looking at him now, nothing had changed. The excitement in his eyes as he'd beaten and groped her all night was unmistakable. It alone made Piper furious and sick.

She tugged again at the ropes, as he came to stand in front of her. Absently, he ran a finger across her exposed collarbone, "You've been a bad girl, Piper He tisked, "I think it's time you've been punished some more."

"Jax, come here" he called out, smiling savagely, "and bring your knife."

The blonde came, murmuring something about heathens under his breath. Michael nodded toward her, "get some of her blood," he smiled at her, "your devils are going to love this."

Jax, stood in front of her. "And those beside the road are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their heart, so that they may not believe and be saved."

"Luke 8:10," she replied.

He faltered for a moment, snarling, "quiet devil!" before leaning over her, slashing the knife across the top of her breast. The blood welled up, soaking the top of the white top she wore. Piper cursed at him.

Jax worked quickly, cutting away the soaked piece, before handing it to Michael. As Michael turned, Jax wiped the blade clean on the skin above the wound. It was enough to infuriate her.

Piper dropped the pocket knife from her hands, into her tucked under feet. Grasping the blade between each foot, Piper heaved her weight backward, bringing the blade up into his sternum. Air whooshed from his lungs as the men around the room began to shout.

Jax fell deeper into the blade, and Piper smiled as death took him.

Michael took the blade back, waving it," tricky little, devil."

He put away the knife, but stupidly, forgot to check her bonds. The smile remained on Pipers face as they pulled away Jax's body, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Bran flew up the cement stairs of Bodekin Luxury supplies, throwing open the large door. The scene in the hall was complete chaos. A snarling Van held his second up against the wall, by his throat. "Tell me where you found this!"

"I told you! Some guy gave it to me!"

"That's bullshit. She was angry with you, what did you do to her!"

"NOTHING! I would never-"

All efforts to hold himself together were lost at the scrap of red fabric held in Van's hand. Bran leaped forward, knocking Van aside, slamming T.J. again into the wall.

"Tell. Me. What. Happened." The wolf was near the surface now.

"The guy, he said he was a Red, he said to meet them tonight at ten."

"Or what?"

"They'll kill her."

Thought fled, bones changed, snapping in and out of place. The wolf leapt forward, as fur began to sprout in various spots. The floor fled and neared. Time stopped, a second ticking by in a years time. A growl erupted, instinct kicked in.

Werewolves, less dominant. Blood of mate. Must help her, her blood fills this room. Love mate. This man hurt mate, he tells lies. Want my mate. Growl at him. Watch him run. Chase. Other man in the way. Move man or else. Man slaps my muzzle. Growl at man, he is my wolf. I am not his. Follow me, wolf. Man speaks at me.

"Wolf, if you want your mate back, give Bran control.

I growl at his tone. He lowers his head, shows me his neck, "I can't do this without Bran."

The man fights for control, I let him take it back. I want my mate.

What did you think? The Chapter needs to be glossed over, so I apologize.

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