"Rogan's got a point."
Noah glanced at Lanie. His theory did hold water.
"Fine. But we've gotta get going. Their scent won't be around forever, even if they did get busy out there somewhere."
Everyone grabbed what they needed and headed for the door.
Once they were outside on the walk, Wade went into the office to check out of their room. Noah's skin tingled the moment he saw the newspaper in the stand outside the office.
"Give me a couple of quarters,” he said, holding out his hand.
"Why, tiger?” Rogan asked with a scoff.
"Just give me the damn quarters!"
"Okay, okay, Lordy, you don't have to bite my head off."
Rogan dug into his pocket and handed Noah the change. Noah dropped them into the slot, opened the lid, and pulled out a paper.
"We won't have to search every rest stop."
Without another word, he held up the paper. There on the front page, were the words, “Gorilla and Jaguar Allegedly Sighted off Interstate 96. Sheriff Declares a Hoax."
"Well I'll be damned.” Rogan's eyes went wide.
Wade trotted out of the office with a bright smile on his face. “What'd I miss?"
Rogan slapped the middle of Wade's back and laughed out loud. “The fact we should probably be playing the fricken’ lottery."
"What are we looking for?” Keira asked, scanning the parking lot.
"Anything the police might have missed."
Rogan took a deep breath. Mac and Robyn's scents were faint, but they had been there. They'd obviously mated, but that wasn't what shocked him the most.
A whole host of scents greeted him. Just like the paper said, there'd been a gorilla here, along with a few other shifters, a couple of birds, a lion and something he couldn't place.
Noah growled beside him.
"What's up your craw?” Rogan asked.
"Bastard had Lanie's Lexus. Must have stolen it after we took off in Miami."
Rogan snorted and took another deep breath. “Probably in some impound lot by now."
"Yeah, no shit. Lanie's father's gonna shit a gold brick."
"Call him. Explain what's going on."
"Are you kidding me? He'll insist Lanie stay with him indefinitely. They don't like me putting their baby in harm's way."
Rogan glanced over to where Lanie and Marlie combed the bushes. “Is that such a bad thing? It's one thing rescuing your own mate from the agency, or keeping her around to protect her against a shifter who wants her dead, but we might have to break Mac and Robyn out of a B*E*A*S*T* compound. That's not exactly a safe place for the ladies to be, especially when none of them are particularly good with a gun. And they're not shifters."
"I'm right there with you, Wolfe, but don't you think the women will have something to say about it?"
"A gorilla took Robyn and Mac, Noah. A gorilla. It was hard enough keeping Sean at bay, and he was just one Kodiak. By the smell of things around here, there's more shifters involved this time."
"You're right,” Noah said, nodding.
"'Course I am. And if the ladies don't see things our way, we'll just have to make them."
Wade chuckled, overhearing their conversation. “And how well has that worked out for you so far, Wolfe?"
"Shut the hell up."
"Found something!” Marlie ran over to the men with a small black device in her hand.
"What is it?” Noah asked, holding out his hand. She dropped it in his palm and shrugged.
"I don't know, but it was over there.” She turned and pointed.
"Damn, this thing smells like ass."
Rogan took a whiff. “Whew. Gorilla's ass, maybe."
"Looks like a GPS locator,” Wade said. “Sean had one like that when he tracked our Hummer in Alaska. Turn it on."
A signal came through loud and clear, pinging on the screen.
"Did this belong to the guy who took Mac and Robyn?” Keira asked, looking over Wade's shoulder.
"Think so."
"Then why would he leave it behind?"
"I don't know,” Noah answered. “Maybe he lost it in a scuffle. Article in the paper says witnesses saw them fighting."
"You think this was what he used to find them in the first place?” Lanie's eyes went wide. Noah glanced at her.
"Probably. But it doesn't make any sense. Mac stole a car just like we had to. The bastard wouldn't have been able to predict which car they'd take in order to plant the GPS beacon."
"Where's the current signal coming from?” Wade asked.
Noah squinted, trying to read the screen. “From...Nevada."
"That's on the other side of the country!"
Rogan gave Wade an exasperated look. “Thanks, genius."
"If the signal is still somehow tuned to Mac and Robyn, then that's where they've got to be,” Noah mused. “If they were jumped, they must have been drugged and put on a plane to get out there so fast."
"But how the hell is it tracking them? I don't get it,” Wade said.
"What if...” Marlie began, letting her sentence hang.
Rogan turned to her. “What, baby?"
"Well, it's crazy, I know, but...what if the beacon is somehow on Robyn herself? We don't know what the scientists did to her beyond making her believe another guy was already her mate. Maybe they implanted her with one."
Noah, Wade, and Rogan all glanced at each other in horror.
"Christ,” Wade said. He whistled through his teeth.
"We've got to get to them before they're wiped by B*E*A*S*T*,” Rogan said. “I don't want to deal with Mac if Robyn forgets him again."
"I'd be willing to lay money down the fourth facility is somewhere in the Nevada desert.” Noah sighed deeply.
Rogan growled low in his throat. “Then what the hell
are we waiting for?"
[Back to Table of Contents]
FIFTEEN
The sun beat down mercilessly as Robyn tore Mac's jeans. She took great care not to snag the fabric on his bone, but his pants were so saturated with blood, her hands slipped a few times. Thankfully, it didn't look like the bone had torn his femoral artery.
"Damn it!” she hissed.
Out of nowhere, something thudded heavily in the dirt next to her. It was the duffel bag, and its landing stirred up quite a bit of dust.
"Found it."
She scowled at Dylan. “Is there a belt in that thing?"
He shook his head. “Nah."
"Do we have anything to stop Mackenzie's bleeding?"
"No problem."
Digging into the bag, he pulled out a folding knife. Clicking it open, he grabbed the parachute and cut off a few of the cords that had held it aloft.
"Will these do?"
Robyn stared at him and arched a brow. He seemed...sane. Perhaps his bouts of insanity came and went.
Reaching for the cords, she smiled. “Yes, thank you.” She pointed at the knife. “Can I borrow that?"
Dylan handed it to her, handle first. “Sure thing."
She made short work of Mac's jeans, then tied the cords around his thigh, above the break. It wouldn't stop his bleeding, but it would slow it down some.
"I'm going to need your help setting his leg—think you can manage?” she asked, tying the last knot.
"You bet,” he answered. “Looks like he's out cold. If
you hold him down, I'll pull."
"No. He'd never forgive me if I let you set his bone.” Dylan gave her an odd look. “Trust me, I know the man. Besides, he might be out right now, but once his pain flares again, he's going to come to, thrashing this way and that. I'm going to need your strength to keep him down."
"All right."
Dylan laid across Mac's chest and held his arms close to his body.
"You ready?"
"Yup."
Robyn took a deep breath and grabbed Mac's ankle. She hoped she was strong enough to do this. With a nod to Dylan, she pulled with all her might. Along wit
h holding Mac down, Dylan also pulled his body in the opposite direction, giving her the extra strength she needed to align the bone.
It was harder than she thought it would be. Right when the bone disappeared back inside Mac's leg, he awoke, screaming at the top of his lungs.
She could smell his pain, wafting off him, permeating the air. With tears in her eyes, she let go of his ankle and checked his thigh.
"Get off me!” he yelled, twisting his body underneath Dylan's. “What the hell are you doing?"
Damn, it hadn't been enough. The bone wasn't where it should be.
"Mackenzie! Stop thrashing. You'll hurt yourself even more."
"Robyn?” His crazed voice made her crawl to his face.
"It's me! You've broken your leg. I'm sorry for the pain, but I've got to do this to make sure you heal properly."
"Robyn! You're not dead! Oh, thank God!"
She took his head in her hands and smiled down at him. Her thumbs wiped away his tears. “No, I'm not dead."
His eyes lit on Dylan and they flashed a deep gold. “You! What do you think you're doing? How dare you toy with Robyn's life!"
He tried to get up, but hissed through his teeth. Robyn pushed him back into the dirt.
"I need him right now. As much as you hate him, I need him, Mackenzie. I'm not strong enough to set your leg
on my own!"
Mac's anger seethed, but he glanced back at Robyn, apparently understanding her plight.
"Hurry,” he said through clenched teeth. “Jesus, it hurts."
With a nod, Robyn scooted away from him and took hold of his knee this time. She had no idea if they were doing this right, but this was the best they could do.
With one more tug, she twisted his thigh for the bones to line up. Like a puzzle piece sliding into place, she knew the moment they connected.
"Let him go,” she said, patting Dylan's shoulder.
The moment Dylan sat up, Mac balled his fist and punched him in the jaw. Dylan fell over backwards, clutching his face.
"You ever lay a hand on Robyn again, a goddamn finger, you're gonna die. Are we clear?"
Rolling in the dirt, Dylan chuckled, but nodded at the same time.
"You shouldn't exert yourself!"
Robyn pushed on Mac's chest, but he'd raised up on his elbows and would not be moved. His wild eyes caught hers and he growled low in his throat. Good Lord, but the sound of it had her body responding with a few shivers despite the heat of the day.
Before she saw him move, he'd pulled her across his chest. Her lips were on his a split second later. His hand held the back of her head while his mouth consumed her, telling her of the terror he'd felt when he thought she'd died right in front of him.
"And you, woman,” he said, his voice gritty. “You ever pull a stunt like that on me again, I'll kick your ass."
"It wasn't my idea to jump out of the plane with no chute!"
Mac growled again and moved to sit up, but Robyn stopped him, redirecting his gaze back to her face.
"I don't care how pissed you are, jag, but you're not kicking anyone's ass in your condition. Will you allow me to bandage you up properly or do you want to die from an infected wound?"
With a deep sigh, he leaned forward, kissing her once
more, gently this time. His tongue swiped in her mouth, giving her a brief taste of him before it was gone.
"Fine,” he protested, lying back with his hands behind his head.
Robyn didn't have any bandages. The best she could do was rip a few lengths from the other leg of his ruined jeans to pad the wound. Dylan suggested tying them to his thigh with strips of the parachute. It didn't take long before his wound was taken care of.
He wouldn't win any fashion shows wearing a pair of haphazardly cut-off jean shorts, but he wouldn't bleed to death either, and that was more important.
"Where the hell are we?” Mac asked after Robyn had administered her first aid.
"I don't know,” she said, helping him prop his leg on the rest of the rolled up shute.
Dylan put his hands on his hips and looked in every direction. “Nevada, by my estimation."
"What makes you say that?” Mac growled. It was obviously hard for him to be civil to Dylan.
"The desert. There's no cacti, no Joshua trees. The only mountains are those off on the horizon. Just miles and miles of sand and sage."
"How do you know we're not in Wyoming or Utah?” Robyn asked.
"The desolation.” Dylan covered his eyes and squinted. “Besides, where do you think would be the perfect place for B*E*A*S*T* to hide their fourth facility? Someplace no one will look."
Mac groaned and laid his head back. Tears of agony filled his eyes, but he blinked them back. Shards of fire scorched his leg. Each wince, each small movement was torture. The flames spread throughout his entire body. It had been all he could do to rein in his screams when Robyn had patched him up.
Right about now, he thanked B*E*A*S*T*'s scientists for engineering their shifters to be fast healers. He wouldn't have to live long with the pain, but he wasn't looking forward to the next few hours.
Staring at the sky, Mac had to concentrate to focus on
Dylan's words. His logic seemed sound enough. They probably were in Nevada. God only knew how long they'd been out on that cargo plane.
"Are you all right?” Robyn's voice cut through the pain like a ray of light. He breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't dead. That alone was worth his pain.
"Thirsty.” Mac licked his lips. They were dry and chappy. Holy crap, he'd give his jag fangs for a glass of cool water.
"We got water in that duffel?” Robyn asked, looking at Dylan.
"No,” he said without hesitation. The man still squinted out at the desert, as if there was something in the wilderness he missed. “In fact, we've gotta get that thing out of Robyn before they come knocking on our door. Well, our imaginary door. You know what I mean."
Confusion knit Mac's brow. Now what was the asshole blabbering on about? He glanced at Robyn.
"Dylan says I've got a beacon under my skin somewhere. It's how he was able to find us in Florida. If it's not destroyed, B*E*A*S*T* will be able to find us wherever we go."
Mac sat up enough to rest his weight on his right elbow. He grunted when a tendril of white-hot pain seared through his thigh.
"You're telling me they implanted a beacon under your skin? How are we going to destroy it?"
"We cut it out!” Dylan's voice was giddy as he pulled out his knife and snapped it open.
Mac's hackles raised. “Put that away. You're out of your mind if you think you're getting anywhere near Robyn with that thing."
"It's the only way,” Robyn said, her tone sullen. She rubbed the back of his hand. “It has to be cut out."
"Well...where is it?"
"We don't know,” Dylan piped up, still waving his knife in the air. It seemed as if he was losing his moment of sanity. “I might be able to sense it."
"Sense it? What?” Mac scoffed. “Are you some kind of psychic now?"
With a laugh, Dylan pointed the weapon at him and
said, “No, but that's a good one, jag. I'm going to remember that."
"Just tell me what you're talking about. Christ!” He couldn't help it, but that bastard brought out the worst in him.
"I sensed where the scientists put mine. It's in my foot. Down there.” Dylan lifted his left foot and tapped the sole of his shoe with the flat of the blade.
"How?” Robyn asked, genuinely curious. Mac lifted himself a bit more to rest his weight on his palm and pulled her closer to him, the fire in his leg be damned. Just the thought of cutting her perfect skin made his own skin crawl.
"I can feel the vibrations and smell it's power."
"You're shitting me. Do you believe this, Robyn? The guy is quackers."
"What if he's telling the truth, Mackenzie? I need to get this thing out of me. We can't afford to be found. Not now."
When she turned
to look him in the eye, her gaze punched him right in the gut. She was right. B*E*A*S*T* wasn't going to get their paws on Robyn ever again. No matter how far-fetched Dylan's explanation seemed, they couldn't afford to rule anything out.
"If you've found yours,” Mac said to Dylan, “Then why haven't you cut it out?"
Dylan scratched his forehead with the point of the knife, scraping himself. “I have to leave it in so they can find me. I was working with them, the scientists, so they said they'd take the animal DNA out of my system, make me human again."
"They can do that?” Mac knew the look on his face had to be a combination of horror and fascination.
Dylan shrugged. “Don't have a clue, but I'll do just about anything to not be out of my goddamned mind all the time."
Mac chuckled. “Ain't that the truth."
"So? What do you say?"
"I say you give me that knife and I'll do it myself."
Dylan got down on his knees and crawled close to Robyn, dropping the knife in the dirt next to Mac.
"What are you doing?” Mac demanded and then
cringed at the note of panic in his voice.
"I've gotta smell it,” Dylan answered. His direct gaze hardened Mac's resolve. If Dylan tried anything, he was going to shift and rip out his throat, injured or not.
"Just watch yourself."
Dylan gave him a small nod and began inhaling deep breaths up and down Robyn's arms. Then, he motioned for her to stretch out her legs. When she did, he sniffed them too. Getting closer, he inhaled near her neck and shoulders. Mac's arm curled protectively around her waist. He gave Dylan a scowl for good measure.
"You have nothing to worry about, jag,” Dylan murmured with a grin. “Your stink is all over her. Total turn-off."
"Good,” Mac said, triumph shooting straight to his heart. “Cause I'd have to teach you a thing or two if you had any ideas."
"I'm sure you would. I don't smell anything. She needs to turn around. I have to smell her backside."
If Mac wasn't on edge from having Dylan so damn close to his mate, he might have laughed at his choice of words. Instead, he watched as Robyn sat on her knees and turned her back on him.
Every inch of Mac's skin tingled. He wanted to be ready should anything happen. For all he knew, it was Dylan's plan all along to kill them in the middle of a remote desert.
Mark Of The B*E*A*S*T* Page 9
