In Someone Else's Skin, Margo Collins [best books to read for women .TXT] 📗

the wall, pressing his cuffed hands toward Shane, who stooped low to check them closely.

“Some kind of metal. Cuffs connected by a small bar. Looks like a standard kind of keyhole.” He squinted, peering to get a better look at something. “Some kind of symbol etched into the metal over the locking mechanism. Nothing I recognize.” He straightened, shaking his head. “I don’t know what it might mean, though.”

“It’s a magical symbol.” The werewolf’s gruff voice was close enough to me that I jumped when he spoke. “Designed to suppress magic use once the cuffs are locked.”

“So once they’re unlocked, that won’t be in effect?” I glanced at the werewolf, fighting the urge to snarl again.

“It shouldn’t be.” The werewolf opened his mouth as if about to say something, then thought better of it and retreated back to his seat on the shelf. I took the opportunity to examine him a bit more closely. If I hadn’t wanted to eviscerate him for kidnapping my adoptive child, I might have thought he was good looking—dark hair, pale skin, ice-blue eyes.

He glanced up and caught me looking.

“You know,” he said, “we might be able to help each other escape.”

This time I did let the snarl go. “Why the hell would I work with you? You and your people are the reason we’re here in the first place.”

He shrugged, blankness descending over his expression like a wall dropping down. “Let me know if you change your mind. A temporary truce could be useful for both of us.”

I turned away from him once again, ostensibly to go back to examining the hinges on the cell door.

But I couldn’t quit thinking about what he’d said.

A temporary truce.

Could I use him to get out of here?

And once I was free, what then?

Kill him?

Take him back so the Council could deal with him?

That thought reminded me that Janice, the Council leader, was dead. Had this guy been involved in killing her? Her death had been gruesome, the werewolves who’d attacked her leaving her disembodied head atop a pile of bodies.

No. I couldn’t let this guy help us. Not if he’d been involved in that.

Could I?

THREE HOURS LATER, I was ready to try anything. Even allowing the kidnapping, killer werewolf dude join us in our escape attempt.

Doing nothing but sitting in a clear plastic cage was beginning to drive me insane.

“Beginning?” Shane muttered when I finally threw my hands up in despair and announced this.

“Hey,” I warned. “Be careful, or I’ll  leave you behind when I get out of here.”

“Okay, okay.” Shane grinned at me. “You’re in the early stages of insanity. That’s all.”

Insanity. Fine. I could use that as my excuse. I turned to the werewolf, looking at him directly for the first time since I’d dismissed his suggestion of a truce. “How could you help us escape?”

He quickly quashed a pleased grin, schooling his expression into something more serious. “You said the cuffs were dampening your ability to shift?”

“Yeah,” I responded warily.

“Well...” He let his voice trail off as he stood, turned around so I could see his cuffed hands, and flexed his fingers.

When long claws popped out of his fingertips, I gasped. “Are the cuffs not stopping you from shifting?”

He glanced over his shoulder, his grin in full force. “Not at all.”

“Seriously? You can still shift?” Surprise suffused my voice. I had always assumed that all shifters used the same kind of magic—or whatever it was that allowed us to shift.

But apparently here, lamias and wolves were different.

Or maybe we were different everywhere.

“Yes, I can.” The wolf gave a shrug.

“And why haven’t you?” Shane asked suspiciously.

“Where am I going to go—even if I could escape, just me against a whole building full of snakes? Not to mention whatever snake shifters are outside.”

“Werewolves,” Coit muttered. “Bunch of A-holes.”

I tossed a glance Coit’s direction, but he wasn’t looking at me.

“Do you have a plan?” I asked, turning my attention back to the wolf.

The werewolf turned his icy blue stare on me. “I would get us all out of these cages and unlock your cuffs, and then we could get the hell out of here.”

Okay. So it wasn’t much as far as plans go. But it was more than I had.

Maybe I needed to seriously consider his suggestion.

Chapter 7

“What about the babies?” I gave him a hard, level stare.

“The lamia young? I have no idea where they are.”

Neither did I. That, more than anything, frightened me. “Do you have any idea why the queen wanted them? Other than the fact that they are also lamias, I mean.”

“There’s a shortage of young in this world.”

I blinked. “A shortage? As in there aren’t very many babies being born?”

He nodded shortly.

“Why do you think that?” I found myself standing with my palms pressed against the clear wall that divided us.

He captured my gaze with his, leaning toward me. “Because the woman who brought me to the queen told me so.”

That would make sense—Queen Amalya had been pretty intent on getting the babies, and come to think of it, Salara had seemed awfully interested in them, as well.

“We’ve seen the garage, the queen’s chamber, and this level,” I said. “What about you? Do you know of anyplace else in this building?”

“There’s a garage? With cars?” He waited for my confirming nod before murmuring, “That could be helpful.”

He hadn’t answered my question. I took it as evidence that he knew no more than we did. “What’s your name?”

“Grant.”

“Okay, Grant. I’ll make you a deal. We all help each other get out of here. But once we’re free and away from this building, you’re on your own. If we can find them, I get to take the babies.”

“No.” The werewolf shook his head. “You’re headed back through one of those portals, right? I get to go home, too. You take the lamia young but take me back to our world. Then we go our separate ways.”

Coit and Shane watched us avidly but didn’t make any suggestions.

“We get out of the