by Celia Kyle
Now the animal wanted to roar at Cole and Grant. Cole for losing Stella and Grant for not paying attention to Stella’s movements.
“Find her,” he snapped. Because he couldn’t, and if she’d been drawn away by James, there was no telling what could happen.
“Did you place the trackers like I said?”
“Yes.” He had tucked the small, nearly weightless devices in Stella’s clothes. One in each shoe, another in her dress, and a fourth had gone into her panties. She didn’t know they were there, but he’d felt their presence was necessary. Now he was glad he’d wired her up.
“I’m tracking her. Gimme a minute.”
“If she’s alone with Walters, she might not have a minute.” A threatening rumble gathered, which he swallowed down.
“I’m getting there,” Grant growled back.
“Why the hell weren’t you watching the damn screens this whole time, asshole?”
Grant didn’t say a word in response. No snappy answer to his question. Just utter quiet.
“What the hell were you doing when you were supposed to—”
Grant cut him off. “Found her.”
Yeah, maybe the wolf had found Stella, but if she was hurt because the asshole wasn’t doing his job…
There’d be blood spattering the walls, and it wouldn’t be Cole’s. He wasn’t gonna think about why his tiger went from loyal to his teammate to willing to tear the man to shreds over a woman. He wasn’t.
“Direct me.” Cole stepped out of the darkness and onto the path, tiger coiled and ready to give him strength and speed.
“Follow the path north. She’s inside Building A, in the restricted area.”
“Motherfucker.” He snarled and took off, recalling the island’s layout from memory.
While he jogged, he sought her scent, hunting for any recent hints of her presence on the walkway. While this wasn’t the only way to get to the restricted section, it was the quickest. If they’d gone this way, he should have smelled her already. Her or James Walters.
Yet there was no evidence of either.
“She alone?” Cole veered left at the next fork in the trail.
“Lemme switch to thermal.”
Cole tried not to growl—he really did—but why hadn’t the asshole already brought thermal online? Seconds ticked by, the click and clack of Grant’s fingers on his keyboard warring with the thump of Cole’s rapid jog.
The walkway curved left, and the trees formed a canopy above him, blocking even more light. It nearly encased him in utter darkness.
“Dammit, Grant. What’s going on?” He cut through the foliage to his right. He should be within twenty feet of one of the walls that separated the two sections of the island.
He raised his arms and leapt, fingers grabbing the edge of the wall. He lifted himself up and threw a leg over, swinging his weight around until gravity took over. He thumped to the ground on the other side of the barrier and dropped to a crouch.
His clothing drew taut across his back, and his slacks squeezed his thighs.
A tux wasn’t the best choice when it came to running ops. Not much he could do about it now, though.
“She’s got company.”
“Fuck,” Cole hissed. “How many?”
“One at the moment—I’m guessing Walters—but there’s another incoming.” More typing. “His heat and the temps around him make me think he’s underground.”
“You sure it’s Walters with her? How do you—”
“Get a move on, Turner.” It seemed like Grant had finally gotten a clue, and he’d become equally alarmed. “You’ve got two humans heading your way.”
“God dammit.”
Cole made his way to a nearby building, placing his back flat against the exterior. He remained bent low while he peered around the corner, searching for the humans.
“Stay put. I’m tracking them. Move in three…two…” Grant paused. “One. You’re clear to the end of that row.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. He stayed quiet and stuck to the buildings, not stopping until he reached his destination. “Next?”
“Hold it,” Grant murmured. “Two coming from the other direction. You’re going to dive across the walkway and hide behind a tree. Ready in three…two…go.”
Cole moved in a single fluid motion, courtesy of his inner cat. Hidden from sight, he let his tiger inch forward even more. His fingers throbbed and stung as his beast’s claws emerged. His gums ached as his fangs dropped into his mouth. Skin rippled and burned, his striped fur gradually coming into view.
“Cole, what are you doing?” Wariness filled Grant’s tone. Good. It should.
“Nothing.”
“Your temp jumped. You either stepped into a sauna or you’re shifting. Please tell me there’s a self-service sauna in the middle of that clump of trees,” Grant begged.
“Nope.” Cole rolled his shoulders and loosened his muscles.
“What are you doing, man? You don’t need to bust out the claws. She’s probably fine. She—”
“She’s a shifter. James Walters is one of the top men in UH, and he’s suddenly dragging Stella to the restricted area? You think she’s fine? You can’t be that dumb.”
“Fuck. Hold on.” Grant’s voice went muffled again—as if he was speaking to someone else—only this time Cole couldn’t make out the words. “Dammit. I got confirmation: they know what she is. I signaled the team. They’re fifteen minutes off the coast and will grab our top suspects. Walters, King, and Stedham will be taken into custody.”
“I’ve got Walters and whoever the hell joins our party.”
More murmuring Cole couldn’t catch came from Grant. “It’s King. Ethan and Birch will go after Stedham. Declan and Pike will meet up with you and lend a hand.”
He snorted. “It’ll be done by the time they get here.”
No way was he letting Walters and King hold on to Stella for that long. No. Way.
“Cole, you should—”
“I’m going in, Grant. Get over it.” He crept forward until he reached the edge of the path. Not ten feet away was a familiar door. “Can you get that door open, or am I breaking the glass?”
“Stubborn asshole. Gimme a sec.” Grant fell quiet, and Cole counted the seconds as they passed.
Fuck, it was taking forever.
The red light on the keypad by the door flicked to green. “It’s done, but you’ve got night security headed your way. Hold.”
Cole vibrated, practically bouncing in place while he waited for the humans to pass.
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…
They soon came into sight, two men who’d be no match for Cole. His tiger wanted him to take them out—they worked for the enemy. But he kept the beast in check. A fight would just delay him getting to Stella.
Except the choice was taken from him. The first guy glanced at Building A like he probably did every other night. Tonight he spied that green fucking light.
“Hey, that building’s unlocked.”
“Huh?” The second idiot stopped at his friend’s side.
“Yeah, see, it’s always red, but—”
Cole didn’t have time for this shit, and he sure as hell didn’t want the guards calling it in.
He stepped out of the shadows. “Gentlemen,” he said. “I’ve got a bit of a time crunch. Do me a favor and die quickly.”
Chapter Twenty-two
James’s “we’ve arrived” sounded creepy enough without Stella seeing what lay beyond the door.
Her kitty senses went haywire, everything inside her demanding she leave, but her promise to Cole kept her in place. His work was important—no breaking cover even if she ached to rip James apart. She was determined to be a help, not a hinderance.
For the third time, James used his keycard to open a door, after dragging Stella up a sterile white stairwell. The panel swung out into the darkness, and Stella’s jaguar lunged against her control. The cat did not want to go in there. Period.
; They emerged into what sounded like a mostly empty room, their steps echoing off the walls. She squinted into the blackness and let her cat lend its assistance, just enough for her to glimpse the area but not change her eye color. She’d cling to her humanity as long as she possibly could.
“Where are we?” She hadn’t meant to sound scared and breathless, but it’d happened.
“Building A, kitten. Don’t you remember it?” A soft click was followed by flickering lights, and the room brightened. “Oh, that’s right.” He glanced at her, a dark glint in his eyes. “You didn’t make it past the door.”
“I was confused, remember?” She smiled and shook her head, pretending she wasn’t scared shitless. “I hadn’t been trying to break in.”
“Hmmm…” That was it. James simply hummed. “This way.”
Stella yanked against his grip, keeping to her human strength instead of letting her jaguar have free rein. It’d tear away from him and then keep on tearing until he was nothing but a pile of sludge if the cat had its way.
“Seriously, James. Enough is enough.”
She glanced around the area, searching for a weapon of some kind. If she could incapacitate him without using her claws, her cover could stay intact. She’d just be a woman who’d panicked and overreacted.
“Enough? It’s not enough. Not nearly.”
“James.” Her inner animal lent her some strength. She yanked free of his grip and took a step back. “This wasn’t a good idea. I’d like to go back to the party now.”
“There’s no reason to get so upset.” He backed away, giving her more room to breathe, but it didn’t help.
“I’d like to leave.” She fisted her hands, hiding the slow, stinging emergence of her jaguar’s sharp nails.
“No, I don’t think so.” He tilted his head to the side, smirk in place. “You wanted to be here and so you are.”
He split his attention between her and a nearby bank of stainless-steel cabinets. He opened one after another until he found what he sought. When he focused on her fully, there was no missing the gleam of excitement and the bone-deep loathing in his expression.
And in his hand was a gun.
Stella swallowed hard. “What are you doing? You can’t—”
“I can do anything I want.” His lips twitched. “Especially when it comes to you.”
She shook her head, brow furrowed, and took a step away from him. “Me?”
“When you appeared at my little gathering, I became suspicious of you. But, like you said, I need Cole Turner’s checkbook.” James flashed her that charming smile. “So I insisted you accompany your lover on this little trip.”
“And I thank you for the invitation, but I think it’s time—”
“Then you decided to poke your nose where it didn’t belong.”
“I got lost.” She’d keep repeating the excuse until he bought it.
“Right. Lost.” His bland expression showed he doubted her. “Whatever you’d like to call it, it was enough of a reason to make a few calls.” He grinned at her, the smile dark, and it felt like the cold finger of death traced her spine. “I heard back from my contact this evening. Do you know what he said?”
Stella shook her head and released a soft laugh while she pulled her mouth into a smile. “That I’m a poor paralegal who loves Christian Louboutin heels but has a Rack Room Shoes budget?”
“Not quite.” James’s gaze darkened, eyes nearly black and expression one of fierce longing—for violence. “I discovered you’re a jaguar shifter.”
She gulped and begged her heart to slow, to suppress her fear so she could make it out of this alive. Panic would only slow her down. It’d force her to freeze in place when she should run. “This is a joke, right?”
“Next you’ll tell me that you have no idea what I’m talking about, right?”
“Exactly.”
He sighed and shook his head. “It was easy for you to create a new identity in the human world, but not among your own kind. There were traces of your true identity. Ones that couldn’t be erased from certain servers.” He eased closer, the muzzle of the gun continuing to point at her. “Ella Elizabeth Carrington. Ella…Stella. Not very creative, but the years seem to have treated you well.” His gaze scraped over her, that glare almost like a physical scouring of her skin. “What’s it been…fifteen? Twenty? I’m sure if Madeline were still with us, she’d want me to pass on her love.”
“I’m going to kill you,” she hissed. She refused to let her fear take hold and used her past grief to fuel her anger. “I’m going to make you suffer like she suffered.”
James clucked his tongue. “So cocky while I’m the one holding the gun. We’ll sedate you and then bind you until you can’t move. What I capture never escapes. There will be no killing…of anyone. At least, not until we’re done with you.”
Well, Stella would. She shrugged. “So you say.”
“So I know. Now come on.” He urged her on with a twitch of the gun. “Get into the first lab or I’ll shoot you and drag you there myself.”
The sound of someone’s approach—hard heels on tile—came from below her. James’s companion?
Then something else caught her senses—grunts and groans from outside, along with a few growls. Those were joined by the all-too-familiar crack of bones and then muffled screams.
Cole? She couldn’t imagine anyone else on the island starting shit.
“So?” Stella shrugged. “You’ll shoot me.” She placed one hand on her waist and eased her weight to the left, hip cocked. “When I shift, every bone in my body breaks and heals within seconds.” She smirked. “I’m not too worried about a bullet.”
“You should be.” He racked the slide, chambering a round. “I have new tricks. These are coated in a drug developed especially for shifters. You won’t just get a bullet. You’ll get so much more.”
She weighed pain and drugs against death at the hands of UH and decided pain and poisoning was the way to go.
“As lovely as that sounds…” A bellowing snarl reached her ears. There was no doubt Cole fought his own battle just outside the building. “I’m going to have to take a hard pass.” She wiggled her fingers in a little wave. “Toodles.”
Stella spun in place and bolted, searching for the exit as she ran through the building. The pop of James’s gun boomed through the open space, one shot after another hurting her ears. The wall to her right exploded, a bullet tearing through the tile and drywall. She squeaked and dove left, ducking around a corner.
That didn’t deter him though.
Another shot, and this time a desk drawer shattered.
She raced past a familiar door, and it swung toward her as she closed the distance—James’s accomplice.
Without thought, she placed her paw on the panel and shoved, sending the door slamming shut. Whoever had approached now tumbled down the stairs. Good. She hoped they broke their neck.
A light came from her right, and she raced for the red glow—an exit sign. The closer she drew, the louder the sounds of battle became. She recognized a familiar voice, a string of curses that could come only from Cole.
A wheeze of relief escaped her. She didn’t want to admit how safe that tiger made her feel. She was being shot at by a homicidal shifter extremist and yet felt safe because Cole was near. Cole who fought his own battle to get to her. Violence surrounded them both, and she prayed they’d get out of this alive.
Stella increased her speed as she approached the exit, her cat digging deep and giving her an extra oomph. She hit the door with an echoing thud, and it blew outward to slam against the exterior wall.
She slid to a stop on the sidewalk and swept the area with her gaze, taking it all in.
Yup, there was a fight. One between Cole and a half dozen guards. Another pop came from behind her.
So, they had to face off with a half dozen guards and James the Gun-Toting Asshole.
Stella leapt into the fray to help Cole while also making it difficult for James t
o get a clear shot. Her first opponent went down easy. A kick to his knee and a punch to the temple knocked him out. Cole focused on a target of his own, though he went the deadly route—snapping a neck.
One of the men realized Cole had help and focused on her, an extendable police baton in one hand and a Taser in the other. The human lifted his arm, poised to strike her with the pole, but she reached up and caught it with ease. She halted his attack with her left hand and throat-punched him with her right, then followed that with a quick flick of her claws to rip out his throat. She turned her head and shuddered. It was kill or be killed, but that didn’t mean she wanted to watch.
Stella hunted for another human and spied a group surrounding Cole. Three men were left, each focused on attacking the tiger shifter who’d been so good to her.
“Cole!” She ran to him, golden fur emerging from her pores as her beast took over. But she shoulda kept her mouth shut. That one yell was enough to draw his attention from the life-or-death battle, which ended with him…stabbed.
“Cole.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Cole hissed as the sharp blade sank deep into his exposed side. Fuck, knife wounds hurt. The punch that followed wasn’t quite as bad, but the kick after that made him wheeze.
All because one gorgeous woman had called his name. He’d paddle her ass later for distracting him. As long as they lived through this.
“Grant,” he snarled, blocking an attacker’s punch and returning it with two of his own. Jab. Cross. “What the fuck?”
His words came out a grumbled mess of syllables—his tiger’s fangs crowding his human-shaped mouth—but the wolf got the point.
“Five minutes out. They’re going to Rendezvous Point C, but you gotta get moving.”
Asshole. He talked like Cole stood around getting beat to shit for fun.
One of his opponents spied Stella, and the man spun in place, knife in a white-knuckled grip and tensed to attack.
“Not happening,” he growled, snatching the human’s shirt.
Stella raced forward, skidding to a stop just out of reach. Before Cole could say a word, bullets sprayed the ground at her feet. He’d find the shooter as soon as he took care of this guy.
