Five, if she had to guess, based on the energy and footsteps.
“I’d rather die.” Annette’s words were brazen, but inside a glimmer of hope remained that today would not claim her life.
A hard slam hit the wall. Annette cried out. Dust showered Alexia in the small space. She pinched her nose not to cough.
“That can be arranged after we’ve broken you.” He laughed.
Alexia buried her face between her knees. What terrible men.
“Where are the rest of the dancers?”
“Most of them left days ago out of fear of you.” Annette’s voice sounded forced. Distress radiated from her.
Arousal levels rose from the males. Her friends were so panicked Alexia felt their fear throbbing through her veins. Annette whimpered and pain ruptured from her.
“But not you, a willful salope.” Slut. He groaned low. “What a feast we’ll have tonight, men.”
“Any Jews among you?”
“Non.” Jill spoke up.
“Your papers?” Sheets rustled. Moments passed. “All of them French. Ralf, take those two back to the regiment, and I want this one in my room. And make sure she doesn’t escape.” Horror ripped through her like a wound. The man took such pleasure in the torment and abuse of others. “Board up the place.”
Steps against the wood floor shuffled away. Shoes dragged as the women struggled.
“Wait.” Hard stomps moved back in her direction. A deep inhalation of breath followed. “Who does this shawl belong to?”
“Alexia Pane.” Jill gasped between sniffles.
“And where is she now?” He rushed to where Jill’s voice came from.
“She took off this morning as the troops marched into the city.”
Excitement consumed the male. He shouted in German. The door slammed closed. Nails were driven into the wood of the front door, then the window. Soon they hammered at the rear.
Alexia curled up in the space. Anger and fear burned inside her for what she sensed these men would do to Jill, Annette and Monique. Tears streamed down her face.
* * * *
VanWolf tussled Sandra into his flat and slammed the front door closed. A gracious smile parted her lips. She lifted, then tossed off her dress. Her pretty ivory flesh shone in the beige lighting, contrasting against the gray paint of the wall.
“What news do you have for me, petite?” He caressed the tender nude skin of her shoulder with his lips. Humans were sensitive to the beast’s touch.
She moaned softly.
A plump mouth pressed to his ear. “Griselda and Cathen are sweeping behind the troops for anyone hiding.” An exasperated breath escaped her. “Jean is at the hospital. Serafin is making arrangements to move the cargo in four days. The others are at the chateau north of the city.”
Everyone seemed in place. Once they had the children gathered, they would move them to the drop point. He and Jean would stay in play as long as possible. Jean posed as a French doctor and provided fake death certificates for injured or tortured Jewish people. His pack smuggled them out with the dead, which were taken from the city to be burned. Those they rescued were moved to a safe house. The hospital could not handle the influx. Bodies had to be disposed of to avoid mass disease and to eliminate the smell of decay. Not to mention, this hid the true number of those murdered.
Sandra’s silky fingers stroked his length. The cover seemed to be moving beyond their usual line. Her breasts and hard buds pressed to his bare chest.
Working his mouth with her warm lips, she slipped her tongue inside and met his. He lifted her pelvis to his waist.
“You may.” She smiled, then looked down at his member.
No doubt she had great talents, given her line of work, but he had little hunger for such play. Besides, she smelled of another pack male, and he wasn’t erect. Alphas never played second fiddle. So little thrilled him, other than the work he and the pack did to help diminish the slaughter. They too had known what it was like to be hunted and exterminated.
“Jean would be hurt by your actions.” He stroked back her red hair.
“I don’t see why.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “He doesn’t seem to care about the others.”
He chuckled. Humans amused him at times. “I’m sure just the thought of you with other males makes him want to kill every last one of them. But he knows you’d only do what you need to not to raise suspicion. This would provoke a response from him.”
“Do you fear him?” Her bright brown eyes met his gaze.
“I respect each of my betas, like a human’s bond to a brother. Each is an extension of me. To betray them would be to dishonor myself.” Hence the turmoil inside over this female and Cathen. The dreams couldn’t possibly be correct.
“You must think I’m horrible.” Sandra hid her reddened cheek in his shoulder.
“A tad manipulative, but what woman isn’t? Mostly I believe you are confused about Jean’s intentions.” Why wouldn’t she be? These were strange times.
She nodded.
A knock came from the front door to his flat, next to them.
He pulled the handle and opened the door.
One of his men, Aldo, saluted him. “Heil Hitler.” He snapped his hand forward, arm extended.
“Heil Hitler,” VanWolf returned begrudgingly. The entire country seemed to have gone mad.
“General Straks wants to see you.” The lad’s gaze traveled from him to the naked woman, then shied away.
“I’ll get dressed and join you in a moment.” Guess he wasn’t getting the evening off after all. Not that he ever really did. Posing as a Nazi soldier meant he was always on guard.
He closed the door. “I will get Bright Eyes to escort you back to your flat.” Leaning into her, he whispered, “Talk things over with Jean or your actions may drive him away.” He shuffled into his Nazi uniform.
Sandra slipped her dress on. Too bad really. She had a voluptuous figure, perfect for the beast.
VanWolf reopened the door. Cool air from the evening washed over him as he buttoned his jacket.
The eager young man beamed at him.
“Escort her back, since it’s after curfew. If anyone gives you trouble, tell them they’ll have a very unhappy me to deal with.” He gestured, arm held out. “Sieg Heil.” Victory Hail.
The youth returned the address. What ignorant fools.
Chapter 3
