by Amelia Jade
Pierce looked at her as she spoke, angry, but also a little intrigued, she could tell.
“Then I made it sound like you’d escaped, when in reality you were still unconscious. I, as leader, had a bit of latitude. Wanting to ensure that I didn’t have to report back saying I’d lost you, I told the rest of the team to go on ahead while I hung back.”
“I see. And then what happened?”
She shrugged. “I rented a cabin I’d rented before, drove there, dropped you off in the forest, covered up the tire tracks, and then waited until a rough estimate of time had passed and tried to wake you. You know the rest.”
Pierce stared at her. “Interesting. But that doesn’t tell me why you did any of this? I mean shit, you could have just told me when I woke up the first time, instead of this elaborate ruse.”
Mila laughed. “Right. Pierce, think for a moment. You woke up in a rage and almost killed me when you thought I was an innocent woman. Do you really think if I’d admitted then and there to being the woman who kidnapped you in the first place that you’d have listened carefully, let alone refrained from killing me?”
He looked away without responding, and Mila knew she had her answer. “Exactly.”
“You didn’t have to play with my feelings though,” he said. “You could have just offered to take care of me, then told me. Hell, you could have hit me with a half-strength tranq and then told me. I’d have been too woozy to do anything, but you’d have gotten the truth out.”
“I suppose,” Mila said. “I didn’t think of that. But I also needed you to get acclimated to the city. I had no idea it would be such an ordeal. That’s what fucked it all up.” She looked at him, waiting until he met her eyes. “I didn’t plan for any of this emotional stuff to happen, Pierce. It just…sort of did, okay?”
The shifter laughed, his shoulders shaking the counter slightly as they bounced back against it. “Oh, oh that’s rich!” he said, guffawing loudly. “You did all this, and then accidentally fell for me? Excuse me while I pity you.” He kept shaking with laughter.
“Dammit, Pierce, I didn’t have a choice, okay! I was playing fast and loose, and things just sort of got out of control.”
“Easy girl,” he said, holding up a placating hand.
Her eyelids opened wide as she glared daggers at him, but it just seemed to slip right over Pierce.
“Now, there’s one big, glaring hole in your story so far.”
Only one? No, there are plenty, Pierce. Which one are you focused on?
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why any of it?” he said, finally pushing off the ground.
Mila held the tranq gun pointed at him, but he simply picked his way through the kitchen, pushing aside broken glass until he reached the fridge. Opening the door—which she noticed now had a wobble to it—he grabbed a bottle of beer and carefully twisted off the cap.
“Thanks for not breaking that one,” she said, her eyes glancing downward to the beer- and glass-covered floor.
“Yeah, about that,” he said awkwardly.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “That’s the least of our concerns.”
Pierce made an agreeable noise, but he didn’t speak. He just sipped on the beer and stared at her. Waiting.
“Why,” she repeated with a sigh. “You know, Pierce, I don’t really know. It just…I had to.” She shrugged. “I didn’t like what was going on.”
That…wasn’t entirely true. Well, it was, it just wasn’t the complete truth.
“What was going on?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I just know that they were giving out orders that I didn’t like. So I did what I could, and got out of there as soon as possible.”
Pierce shook his head. “So you betrayed your employer, and now you’ve just come back to your house here in the city and expect no retaliation at all?”
Mila shrugged. “I took care of it.”
“You took care of it?” Pierce asked, phrasing his words to mimic her tone. “What does that mean?”
“It means exactly what it sounds like. We’re fine.” She frowned. “Were fine.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Were? As in, no longer?”
“It’s a long story. But if we’re going to go after your brothers, we need to do it now.”
“Now.”
“Yes now, what the hell wasn’t clear about those words? Our time is up, Pierce.”
“Mila, I don’t know where my brothers are, who has them, or even if I can trust you when you tell me!” Pierce took another swig of his beer, tipping the bottle up so fast that it began to foam slightly. “Yech,” he spat, licking his lips repeatedly as he set the bottle down to let the foam dissipate.
“No, you don’t know,” she said. “But I’m your only shot, so you need to come with me, even if you don’t trust me.”
“Come with you where?” he said forcefully. “You still haven’t told me shit about who has them!”
“They’re the Bothwell-Ingrim Institute of Theoretical Anthropological Studies,” she said, working her lips carefully around the mouthful of a name.
“The Bothwell…what?”
“Commonly called the Institute,” she said, but also repeated the name for him just in case he might need it.
“I see. And why does a scholarly-sounding organization kidnap shifters?”
Mila smiled. “Exactly why I have an issue with them.”
Pierce clearly knew there was more to it than that, but he shrugged. “Okay, keep your secrets.”
“It’s not so much a secret, as we don’t, have, time,” she repeated.
“So you’ve said. All right, fine. You’ve convinced me I guess. I must be an idiot, but my gut and my heart say to trust you that you’re not flat-out lying to me. I can’t figure out what’s going on, but I have no better choice.”
Mila took pity on him.
“Okay, listen. I told them that you’d escaped, right?”
He nodded.
“So I’ve been keeping them ‘up to date’ on my actions,” she said, putting the phrase in air quotes for his sake.
“You’ve been lying to them.”
“Yes. They think I’m still out in the wild west of here trying to track you down.”
“Good thinking.”
Mila smiled. “Thanks, I’ve been known to have a decent idea every now and then.”
Pierce rolled his eyes in exasperation, but she thought she caught a hint of real humor in them first. Her heart soared. Maybe there would be a chance—No. No there won’t be. Best not to let yourself think that. But maybe—No. And you know why. So stop it.
“But then you went and shifted in the woodlot last night,” she said, forcing the turmoil in her stomach out of her words.
Her problems were her problems. First she needed to do what was necessary. Then she could worry about her broken heart.
“Okay?”
“Think, Pierce. That’s not normal. Reports of that are going to get out. The Institute will hear about it, and they’ll realize you’re in the city.” Her lips pressed together into a line. “Whether they figure out that I lied, or that you just happened to evade me, I don’t know. But either way, they will come looking. Someone will be sent here.”
“They will?”
“I would, if I were in charge. Wouldn’t you?”
He was forced to nod.
“So we need to go, and now.”
“But where?”
“To get your brothers back,” she said firmly.
“And they are where again?”
“At the Institute.”
“Right. Which is where?”
“Downtown Longhorne, why?”
Pierce nodded thoughtfully. “You want me to go up against who knows how many guards, in a public area where everyone can see—meaning I’m not allowed to kill them all—break my brothers out, and then disappear. All without killing anyo
ne or getting caught.”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
Pierce deflated slightly. “Mila, I’m only one person. I appreciate your faith, but I—”
Calmly and without hesitation Mila lifted the barrel of the gun that she’d let drop and in the blink of an eye put five darts into the fridge, forming a vague outline of Pierce’s head.
The huge shifter looked slowly to his left and right at the quivering metal rods, none no more than two inches from his body.
“Okay, so it’s just the two of us against the whole facility. Those odds are still rather ridiculous,” he pointed out.
“Perhaps, but we have a few advantages.”
Pierce frowned. “I…okay, how do we attack it?”
She smiled. “We walk in the front door.”
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“I didn’t stutter,” she said.
“How do you plan to make that work?”
She shrugged. “I worked for them. I know them, and I know the layout.”
Pierce’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I thought you were just brought on for the mission to take me and my brothers.”
“Ah, no,” she said awkwardly. “I never said that.”
“I see. So what’s your plan?”
“Drive in like we belong. Which I do. You do too. Sort of, in a backward sort of way. To them at least, they expect to see you.”
“I am so confused. About you, the plan, about everything.”
Mila nodded. “I understand. But listen carefully,” she said, bulldozing right over his objections. “We drive in to the employee area like we belong. You acting passed out in the back, like I caught you. So that gets us in. Then I’ll summon the duty guards and…”
She explained the plan to Pierce, and saw that although he thought it crazy, he wasn’t raising any objections to it.
“When this is done,” he said at last, moving to the front door to put his boots on, “you owe me a huge explanation of all the things you aren’t telling me.”
Mila nodded. “Fair. Most of them are details that aren’t pertinent to us right at this particular moment, so I’d really rather not take the time. We wasted enough by having me tranq you. Twice.”
Pierce’s growl filled the house at the reminder.
“Hey, it’s your fault you tried to kill me. Twice.”
The noise grew louder, but she just shooed him out the door, pulling it closed behind her. “Still, only fifteen hours or so since the incident first occurred. That’s cutting it close, but it’ll take some time for it to get back to the higher-ups, and for them to realize what it means. We should be okay. This might work out better actually,” she said thoughtfully. “They hear the reports, then I show up with you. The timeline works.”
Pierce just climbed in her SUV, not saying a word.
“I must be insane,” he muttered as she fired up the car.
“I hope so,” she replied. “Otherwise this isn’t going to work.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Pierce
This time there was no strain upon his senses as they drove through the city.
Pierce had expected it, even prepared for the imaginary giant hand to press down upon him with even more strength, aided by his own stress, confusion, and anger at the situation unfolding in front of him. And unfolding was certainly the most accurate term to use. Mila had told him all he needed to hear, but it certainly wasn’t everything that was going on.
He glanced at her now from where he sat in the rear row, noting the grim determination upon her face, and the way her knuckles where slowly turning white as she took the wheel in a death grip. If she hadn’t had to focus on doing the driving—operating a motor vehicle wasn’t something he’d ever done before, scarce as they were back in Cadia—Pierce was positive that she’d be shaking.
“It’ll be okay,” he said calmly, trying to reassure her, using confidence that he didn’t possess.
That’s an exaggeration. I mean, it’s not a terrible plan. It could work. There are a few big hitches, including the part where they still think she’s loyal to them. But besides that…it could work. I just have to hope it will.
“I know,” Mila replied in a distracted tone, very obviously not having truly heard what he said and just responding in a way her brain thought would get him to shut up.
Pierce thought about continuing, and saying some more. But he didn’t. There was no need. Nor would it help the situation. He needed Mila focused and at her best to pull this off.
“We’re getting close,” she said abruptly, her shoulders straightening. “Get in position.”
Pierce looked around. “I am in position.”
“I mean look like you’re unconscious,” she snapped.
“Fine,” he replied, lying down.
“Don’t forget to make it look authentic.”
“Right,” he muttered. “I think this is just for your sadistic sense of humor, to be honest. I don’t think it has anything to do with making the plan work any more or less than it already will.”
“Just shut up and do it. We’re only a block away.”
The strain in her voice was evident now, even as Pierce relaxed onto the seat. He wondered what the reversal in situation meant, if anything. When they’d first come to the city, he’d been the nervous, stressful wreck, barely able to concentrate.
Now he was lying on the seat, about to do something mildly painful, and he didn’t seem to have a care in the world for it. At any other point he’d probably have started laughing over it. Now he just braced himself, raising his right hand above his chest, and with a resigned sigh, slammed it down.
“Ow,” he complained as a steel dart embedded itself deep in his skin, courtesy of his own hand.
“Is that both of them?” Mila asked uncaringly from the driver’s seat.
Pierce hissed. “It is now,” he said as the other dart lodged itself into his stomach.
“You big baby, you’ll heal,” she told him.
Pierce glared at her, though he knew she couldn’t see him. “Just because I heal fast doesn’t mean I don’t feel any pain! I feel just as much pain as anyone else might. More, maybe, since I’m a sensitive soul.”
“You mean you’re a wuss,” Mila said dryly.
“In my culture we just call it understanding,” he retorted nobly.
“No you don’t.”
“No, we don’t,” he admitted.
The pair fell silent as they realized they’d fallen back into what they were comfortable with: flirting. Pierce closed his eyes, grateful that he was actually supposed to be playing possum, which meant he could just say he was getting into character by not replying.
It hurt to know that he may never repair his relationship with Mila ever again. That she and him might be done. His gut told him they weren’t, but then again, his gut also had two inches of solid steel sticking from it. So maybe he shouldn’t trust what it was saying just then. It’d probably come up with anything to get him to remove the uncomfortable dart from his middle.
They were the same two darts she’d shot him with earlier, emptied and cleaned of any tranquilizer, so he didn’t actually pass out. Pierce smiled in his “sleep.” But the guards wouldn’t know that.
He felt the SUV slow, and go over a curb.
“We’re here,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
Then the vehicle tilted and began to descend. They were heading down a ramp. So far, so good, just as Mila had told him to expect. Next would be a sharp left—the SUV turned left even as he thought it. Now the first real tough part.
The guard hut.
“ID please,” the guard said.
“Hey Chuck,” Mila said, her voice casual, though Pierce could hear the strained undertone to it.
“Miss Chaire,” came the polite response. “Good to see you. How was your hunt?”
There was no reply, but he heard material rustling and figured Mila must hav
e just pointed back at him. The window above his head opened slightly, and then he heard Chuck grunt.
“Sounds good. Want me to radio you on in for support?”
She nodded. “Yes please. Getting him in here was a fucking nightmare. I’d really rather have someone else do the rest of the dirty work from here on out.”
Chuck laughed. “I hear that. Okay, Miss C. You know where to go.”
Pierce managed not to frown, but there was something about the way the guard had addressed Mila. He repeated the scene over and over again in his head, but whatever his brain was trying to tell him, it remained elusive and just out of reach.
“One down,” Mila said in a low voice.
“We’re fine,” he told her. “Just relax.”
“I would if you’d stop distracting me,” she hissed.
“I’m not distracting you,” he replied serenely. “You’re doing that to yourself, though I haven’t been able to figure out why yet.”
“Shut up.”
He did, keeping his mouth shut. For a moment he cracked an eye to see what he might see through the window across from him, but all he saw was the roof and far wall, painted a boring stark white, with very little other coloring.
“Three guards and a gurney,” she told him. Then she corrected herself. “Four guards, one standing apart from the others, like a leader.”
Pierce didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. All he needed to know was what to expect when he opened his eyes. They weren’t going to get past this point with Mila still being able to accompany him. So they’d had to improvise.
The vehicle stopped, and then reversed itself for a short period of time before coming to a halt.
“Okay, here they come. I’m getting out. I’ll take the one apart from the group. The other three are yours.”
He just agreed with a low “Mm-hmm.”
Mila got out, and he heard her talking to the guards. Moments later his door opened. Pierce did his best to lay limp and be of exactly no help as they wrangled his massive form from the vehicle. It was tough to remain quiet when they bumped his head repeatedly, though he was positive he heard Mila trying to cover up laughter via coughing.
“How did you manage this on your own?” one of the guards complained as they hoisted Pierce upright, their shoulders in his armpits.
