Callie's Captors [Mountain Men of Montana 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Mountain Men of Montana 2
Callie’s Captors
Callie Kirkland learned how to take care of herself without anyone’s help. But when she takes a dive into a trap, she has to rely on the aid of three sexy strangers.
Werewolf brothers Blue, Raine, and Pete Deacon love their home and have no intention of leaving it, even to find their intended mate. But when they find a beautiful woman caught in a trap, they come to her rescue. Problem is, now that she’s found her way into The Hidden, they can’t let her leave even when she’s ready to risk her life to prove them wrong about the evil creatures called The Cursed.
Will Callie gain a home only to lose it? Can the Deacon brothers help Callie without getting banished? Or will they have to sacrifice the only place they’d ever loved to keep her in their lives?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 49,244 words
CALLIE’S CAPTORS
Mountain Men of Montana 2
Jane Jamison
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at
legal@sirenbookstrand.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
CALLIE’S CAPTORS
Copyright © 2013 by Jane Jamison
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-696-6
First E-book Publication: March 2013
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Callie’s Captors by Jane Jamison from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Jane Jamison’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Jamison’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
Readers,
Thank you so much for your support. I appreciate the time you take to read my books. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them.
CALLIE’S CAPTORS
Mountain Men of Montana 2
JANE JAMISON
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
The day had started out on a chilly note, but had swiftly warmed up. Considering she was in the mountains of Montana, Callie considered herself lucky that the weather was cooperating. Although it was springtime, things could change at a moment’s notice. Late snowstorms could pop up, thrusting the woods from the warmth of spring back into winter. But she wasn’t worried. Callie Kirkland prided herself on being prepared. Growing up in the foster care system of a large city had taught her independence and how to handle herself in all kinds of situations. She’d taken those urban skills and had adapted them to the outdoors.
She loved the forest best. But she adored every bit of Mother Nature’s offerings from the beaches to the flat plains of the Midwest and on into the mountains located on both sides of the country. Maybe her love was a result of having lived in four different foster homes in Atlanta, each one chaotic and turbulent with shouting and fighting a constant factor. Or maybe it was simply in her genes. Since she knew nothing about either of her parents, it was anyone’s guess.
She stepped over a log then stopped. The sound of running water told her a stream was close by, tempting her to dip her toes into the cool liquid. She shifted the backpack into a more comfortable position, then started toward the babbling noise.
The song “Running with the Moon” came to her lips as it often did whenever she was hiking. It wasn’t something most twenty-five-year-olds might sing, but she’d liked it from the first time she’d heard it while cruising along the roadway in the beat-up older Jeep she’d purchased on her seventeenth birthday. She preferred driving at night and had felt a strange sense of longing to be a part of something more as she’d listened to the song and glanced up at the full moon hanging in the blue-black sky. It was as though the moon called to her, trying to tell her of a life that was different than the one she’d known.
“Let’s go running with the moon. Running. Running away.”
A breeze lifted her hair away from her shoulders as she continued to sing. Her voice grew stronger as the memory of how she’d sung it while hurrying around the kitchen of the popular Atlanta restaurant where she’d worked, underage and paid under the counter, came back to her. The work had been hard, but she’d managed to save her tips as a waitress until, at last, she’d accumulated enough cash to quit her job, ditch the small furnished apartment she’d rented since aging out of the system, and fulfill her dream of hitchhiking around the country. That was over a year ago, and along with taking a menial job every once in a while to supplement the income she made from her photography, she’d managed to keep herself fed and clothed.
Except for the gnawing in her gut telling her that she needed something more, life couldn’t get much better.
A noise to her left brought her up short. She listened, using the heightened sense of hearing that she’d been blessed with from birth. Her friends had teased her about it, calling her “Radar” as a term of endearment.
The crackling of the leaves came again, and slowly, making as little noise as possible, she slid her backpack to the ground. She knelt and unzipped it then reached inside to find the camera that was always on top o
f everything else. A long, sharp knife rested directly below the camera, but she’d never had to use it for self-defense and hoped she never would.
The sound came again as she started to creep in that direction. Taking care to keep the branches from scratching her, she eased her way through the underbrush. She was closer and more noise, sounds that signaled the proximity of an animal, added to the mix. She could hear its breathing, the low grunts as it moved, and the bright splashing of water. Whatever was ahead was using the stream she wanted to enjoy.
She pushed through the next bush, then paused as a dark form took shape. She held her breath, enraptured by the sight of the animal. A large, ten-point buck stood in the water, letting the liquid flow over the lower half of its legs. He was huge, larger than any she’d ever seen. His body was muscled and toned, the dark of his fur spreading across his back and leading to the bushy, white-tipped tail that swished back and forth. His enormous antlers rose to the sky, the gray of them startling against the green backdrop of the forest. Snowy white surrounded his black nose then jumped over the dark brown along his shoulders to run the course of his belly. His chest had a streak of black running from his neck to his belly. He was, simply put, a magnificent animal to behold.
She clicked away, snapping photographs as fast as she could. Each frame was even better than the last. She smiled at him, silently thanking him for showing up to become the star of her work.
Big, black eyes fixed on her as he turned his head toward her. Yet she wasn’t afraid. How could anyone be afraid of something so beautiful?
He snorted, dropping his head and pointing his antlers at her. The way he acted was unusually aggressive for a deer, but she was too involved in taking the photograph to be worried. Even then, she doubted he’d do anything more than bluster and stomp, splashing the water about in his attempt to frighten her away. It wasn’t until he burst out of the water like a mass of energy exploding from confinement that she lowered her camera and gaped at him. Water sprayed everywhere, dotting his chest with shiny diamonds of water and making sparkling lights in the air.
Oh, shit!
She took off running, holding her camera in one hand as she used the other to break through the forest. He snorted, blowing air through his nose as he pounded toward her. When she glanced back, the sight of him gaining ground on her spurred her into running harder and she no longer felt the sting of the branches tearing at her skin.
Passing the spot where she’d left her backpack, she snatched up the backpack then started running again and didn’t look back. He was so close she could almost feel the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck.
She couldn’t think. She could only run.
Breaking into a clearing, she let out a small whimper, yet felt a flush of relief. He should’ve already caught up with her, but she didn’t dare question her good luck. If only the luck would stay with her a little while longer, she might make it to the other side of the grassy area. Then, just maybe, she could hightail her butt up a tree far enough to stay clear of his deadly antlers.
Something hit her, washing over her as though she were trying to run through water. The instinct to survive took charge and she kept moving even though her vision blurred and she found it difficult to breathe. A dry heat cocooned her, at once supporting her yet making her unsteady on her feet. It was if she’d entered an invisible wind tunnel and was struggling to push through to the other end.
Her mind, clouded with alarm, couldn’t make sense of the sensations rippling over her body. Instead, she struggled on, determined to make it to the end. Providing the strange area of wind had an end.
When at last she made it to the other side of the clearing, she broke out of the strange barrier and stumbled forward, thrown off balance by the sudden lack of resistance against her. Her backpack and camera went flying and, just as she started to pick them up, the buck appeared. With no other choice, she left her possessions and darted into the underbrush, not caring where she was going, only that she had to get away. The buck was only a few feet behind her, the steady rhythm of his hooves striking the dirt. With her breath catching in her throat and a stitch aching in her side, she kept going.
All at once, she was falling, tumbling in a downward spiral. She screamed and reached out for anything to break her fall, but could find nothing. She tumbled, fast and hard, until she landed on her back. The air rushed out of her, depriving her lungs and clenching the muscles in her chest. An ache barreled through the rest of her body, bulleting it with pain as she squinted her eyes closed. She hurt everywhere, and yet, at the same time, she was aware enough to realize that nothing was broken.
The buck’s snort made her open her eyes, and when she did, she found herself gazing up at him. She was in a deep hole, a pit, but at least she was safe from the animal.
Callie lay still, letting her heart slow down and her breath even out. The buck pranced at the edge of the pit and stared down at her. His dark eyes met hers and blinked.
Groaning, she pulled her aching body into a sitting position and waited for any fresh pain to come. When none did, she glared at the animal, then pushed her body into a standing position. But standing proved harder than she thought and she had to rest against the dirt wall to keep on her feet.
The buck lowered his head then raked his hoof along the edge sending a powder of dirt drifting down on top of her. She yelped and moved out of the way.
“Get away from me. You’re the reason I’m in this mess.”
The buck blinked again, then continued to stare at her. Was he trying to understand her, or had her imagination gone as wild as her run?
“You’re losing it, girl,” she whispered.
She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and held it up, inspecting it for damage. “Please don’t let it be broken.” Yet, although the phone was intact and the home screen came on as it always did, she couldn’t get any reception. She held it higher but still no bars.
“Damn it all.” She paced to the other wall and ignored the animal when he started circling the hole. If she didn’t get a call out, who knew how long she’d be trapped?
The buck snorted and shook his head.
“What is with you anyway? Why are you still here?” She really studied the animal then. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you ran me into this pit on purpose.”
But that didn’t make sense. Why would an animal that was known to be as docile as a deer suddenly want to hurt a human? Had her camera spooked him?
He snorted again and shook his head several times. After checking one more time, she shoved her phone back into her pocket then found a flat spot to sit on. The sun was heading westward and soon it would get dark. Although she’d prepared for every imaginable situation—or so she’d thought—she hadn’t planned on falling into a hole. Especially after getting chased by a huge buck and without her backpack filled with necessary supplies.
“I don’t suppose telling you to go for help would work.” She let out a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, right. Like you’re some kind of woodland Lassie.”
She hugged her knees to her chest. One rule she’d never followed while hiking was to tell someone where she was headed. Besides, who was she supposed to tell when she had no one in her life?
A sudden rush of tears welled in her eyes. She wasn’t a crier by nature, but if any time was a good time to cry, it was now. Letting go of her usually controlled emotions, she let the tears slide down her face. Sobs racked her body as she crossed her arms over her bent knees, laid her forehead on her arms, and gave in to her dismay. She stayed that way, huddled in the hole for an indeterminate amount of time.
The shadows of evening fell over her, drawing her attention upward. The buck was gone, and, although she knew it wasn’t rational, she couldn’t help but feel lonely. Now she really was alone. She waited for a while, hoping that maybe the buck would return, but when he didn’t, she pulled herself together.
At least the moon’s still there.
She could always cou
nt on the moon.
She was in a tough spot, but she’d been in tough spots before. After surviving an abusive foster mother who had then sent her packing to the next foster home and straight into the arms of a foster father who’d tried to rape her, getting caught in a hole seemed almost laughable. And not something that could beat her.
Drawing in a big breath, she went around the interior of the hole, checking for any indentations that she could use as a handhold. She’d rock climbed before, and although she’d had the necessary equipment for those treks, she had to believe that she could climb out of the hole, too.
“You can do this. No problem.”
She took hold of a rock that jutted out from the wall and stuck the tip of her shoes into a smaller crevice below. Pulling her body up, she skimmed her hand along the surface, but couldn’t find another rock to grab on to. Instead, she held on with one hand and started digging.
But the wall was harder than it looked. Instead of working her fingers into what she’d hoped was dirt, she could only swipe away a thin layer that covered a wall of rock. She tried another spot and found more rock. Groaning, she dropped back to the floor.
She couldn’t dig handholds into that rock. Not without tools. But she didn’t even have the right kind of tools in her pack. And her pack? She didn’t even want to think about that.
She cried out as her backpack landed on the dirt beside her. A few inches closer and it would’ve hit her. She gaped at it, then twisted around to gawk at was above her. What she saw sent her stumbling backward.