Mark Of The B*E*A*S*T*

by Rebecca Goings

  But the knife was in Mac's hands and he was prepared to defend Robyn until his dying breath if he had to.

  "There. Right there. Between her shoulderblades."

  "You sure?"

  "Sure as shit."

  "Show me where. Lift your shirt, sweetheart."

  Mac smelled Robyn's embarrassment and tried to soothe her by rubbing her shoulder. She lifted the back of her shirt until her entire back was exposed. Dylan touched her skin, but Mac swatted his hand away.

  "Not a finger, remember?” He allowed his eyes to flash.

  The man looked agitated, but Mac didn't give a shit. He cocked a brow, daring him to contradict his demand. He

  didn't.

  "There,” Dylan said again, this time pointing but not touching. “It won't be too far under the skin. “It's about an inch wide."

  "You ready honey?"

  "Yeah.” She was exhausted. Hell, so was he.

  Mac scooted up a bit more and cried out, unable to hold back from the agony.

  "Mackenzie—"

  "I'll be okay,” he puffed through gritted teeth.

  "But—"

  "Robyn. I'm okay. Now turn around and shut up.” He kissed her nose. She scoffed at him, but obeyed.

  "Start there,” Dylan said with another point. “No, higher—there! Right there."

  The knife was sharp. It slid into her skin with minimal effort.

  "Sorry,” Mac said gently when she made a small sound. “This will be over before you know it."

  She nodded furiously.

  "Cut to there. No, deeper."

  Robyn squealed.

  "Sorry!” he yelled again, just about ready to sink this knife into Dylan's face.

  "What the hell is that?” A small piece of metal wire was indeed under Robyn's skin, right where Dylan said it would be. A round chip sat on top of it.

  "The beacon. Pull it out."

  Mac grabbed hold of it and pulled, soon realizing he'd have to cut it out. It had grown into her tissue.

  "Damn. I've gotta cut you a little more,” he said, already pissed at the amount of blood oozing down her back.

  "Hurry.” She'd put her head on her knees. She was holding back tears.

  With a few flicks of the knife, the beacon was free.

  "Give it to me."

  Mac handed it to Dylan, who laid it on one rock. With another rock, he smashed it to bits.

  "There. Now they can't track us."

  "Not true,” Mac said, wiping the knife on his shirt. “They can track us through yours, am I right?” He closed the knife and tossed it at Dylan. “Cut it out, gorilla. I'm not doing it for you."

  He didn't bother watching. Turning back to Robyn, Mac concentrated on stopping her bleeding. “You okay?"

  "Think so. They really implanted me with that thing?"

  "They really did. Damn, you need a bandage. Maybe some stitches."

  "Leave it."

  "But—"

  "I'll heal just as fast as you. Leave it. The most that's going to happen is I'll get my shirt bloody, right? It's just a cut. It'll heal. We've got more shirts in the bag."

  She faced him and gave him a fierce hug. His arms circled her as well, holding her close. Her scent seeped into him, making him press her closer. At that moment, Mac realized something he'd never thought of before.

  He couldn't live without Robyn in his life.

  She was his mate, but it was more than that, something deeper, more intimate.

  And then it hit him.

  He was in love with her.

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  SIXTEEN

  "I can't believe it. I can't effing believe it!"

  Wade grinned as Rogan watched the ground fall away from a cushy, white leather chair. The inside of the private jet was swanky to say the least. A plush ivory carpet stretched to polished wood walls, and the liquor was plentiful.

  As the heir to his father's vast estate, spending cash was becoming second nature to Wade. He'd been kidnapped, mind-wiped, and hidden within B*E*A*S*T* by Senator Clive Covington in order to keep the agency funded. But once Wade had found out who he really was, he'd stepped forward and claimed his father's oil empire, further crippling the bastards who'd made him a monster. Now, he could afford to travel in style.

  Noah shook his head, also peering out the window next to him. “Good Lord, Wade McAllister, you're handy to have around in a pinch."

  Clearing his throat, Wade took a sip of his brandy and crossed his legs. “It's Brandon Cameron the Third to you, sir, and yes, it's amazing what you can accomplish with a little scratch."

  Rogan scoffed. “A little? I think you laid down enough cash to buy this friggin’ thing."

  "I'm sure I did,” Wade said with a sigh. “But it was worth it to get around airport security. I think I'm the only one with ID. We'll have to remedy that soon."

  "Hell, you can probably pay for that too."

  Wade arched a brow at Rogan. “Probably."

  Wolfe squirmed on his seat. Wade knew his pointed

  stare made him uncomfortable. He grinned.

  "Okay, guys,” Noah said, waving his hand between their eyes. “Rogan, quit spending Wade's money, and Wade, quit making Rogan feel inadequate."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Rogan's tone was indignant. Wade couldn't help but laugh out loud.

  "You guys know I don't care about my money, or who I was before B*E*A*S*T* sunk it's claws into me. If I can help any of you get on your feet to have a normal life, I'll damn well do it. Including buying our mates a few tickets out to Colorado for a spell."

  Noah groaned. “You had to go and bring that up, didn't you?"

  "They'll forgive us. In time."

  Rogan grinned and tossed Noah a look. “He hasn't been mated as long as we have. Isn't he cute?"

  "What?” Wade asked, looking at Rogan, then Noah. “They know this is for the best. They're not trained. They're not shifters. They'll just get themselves killed if we have to storm B*E*A*S*T's last compound."

  "I know that, he knows that, and you know that,” Noah said, pointing at all of them. “But our mates are fiercely loyal. It was all I could do to get Lanie on that plane, and I know damn well she's going to be cursing me seven ways to Sunday. And she's going to worry out there at her parents’ house. Wouldn't surprise me if those women are hatching their own plan."

  Rogan growled. “They better not be. Marlie knows better than to cross me."

  Wade chuckled. “Keira's a little freaked too, but I think she'll be all right."

  "You're friggin’ blind, cougar.” Rogan tossed him a grin. “Your mate gave you the silent treatment. She's not all right."

  With a sigh, Wade tossed back the rest of his brandy. It burned in his throat on the way down. Rogan was right, damn him. Keira was pissed. Hell, they were all pissed, but it couldn't be helped. They were a liability, a hindrance more than a help.

  Rogan pulled out the GPS tracker again and watched

  as the signal pinged.

  "Still going strong?” Noah asked with a yawn.

  "Uh...” He smacked the side of the device a few times.

  "What is it?” Wade asked, sitting up.

  "It was there, then it just...stopped."

  "What do you mean it stopped?"

  "I mean it stopped! It's not there anymore. It's just gone."

  "Let me see that.” Noah took it and smacked it himself. “Damn."

  "What does it mean?” Wade asked, fearing the answer.

  "Either Mac and Robyn destroyed it or B*E*A*S*T* did."

  A shiver raced down Wade's spine at the implication. “We've gotta get the hell out there!"

  "No shit,” Rogan said, exasperated. “Give the pilot another few thou. See if this bucket of bolts can fly any faster."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  SEVENTEEN

  "We need water."

  Dylan's words were an understatment. Using a few strong sticks, they'd managed to prop up what wa
s left of the parachute as shelter from the sun. But the day labored on and they were all sweating. What Mac wouldn't give for a sip of water to cool his tongue.

  "We should see if we can find something. Anything.” Robyn looked at Mac.

  "I can't go anywhere until my leg's healed up. Probably won't be able to walk on it until tomorrow and it'll be a few days before I'm one hundred percent."

  "I know. But Dylan and I are birds. We can cover a lot of ground, see if there's a pond or a lake or a town nearby."

  Her scent was worried. She didn't like the idea of leaving him, but she was right. Perhaps they could find something by combing the area.

  "You're going to exhaust yourselves if you push too hard.” Mac took her hand and squeezed. “Do you think you can make it back here?"

  She pursed her lips and gave him a skeptical stare. “You're doubting me?"

  He smiled, then winced when he tried to sit up. Thinking better of it, he merely laid back down, pillowing his head with his left arm.

  "No, I'm not doubting you. Just apprehensive is all. Almost lost you twice. I'm not to keen on losing you again."

  Her cool palm caressed his cheek. “You're not going to lose me. In fact, you'd be hard-pressed to get rid of me now, jaguar. I'm here to stay."

  A wide, satisfied grin cracked his face. “Glad to hear it, baby. Go on and see what you can find. Both of you can cover more ground if you go different directions."

  Robyn nodded. “I want you to try and get some sleep while we're gone. I'll come back before the sun goes down. If we don't find anything, we'll have to suffer tonight and take our chances by moving on in the morning."

  She swooped in for a quick kiss, but he held the back of her head, making sure she couldn't get too far.

  "You be careful."

  "I will."

  "I mean it, Robyn. Be careful. B*E*A*S*T* is out there. At the first sign of trouble—hell, at any sign—you come back to me."

  She nodded.

  "Promise me.” Mac knew he was being overprotective, but he couldn't help it. Robyn meant more to him than his own life. She had to be on alert. He wouldn't be there to protect her.

  "I promise."

  Her heart was in her eyes, he could see it plain as day. His own heart swelled. He should tell her he loved her. She deserved that much. Taking a deep breath, Mac opened his mouth to bare his soul.

  "You ready?” Dylan's face appeared just outside their parachute tent. Damn him and his shitty timing.

  "Yeah.” She moved away, then looked as if she thought better of it. “Maybe I shouldn't go. I don't feel right leaving you alone, Mackenzie."

  "I'll be fine, sweetheart. We're in the middle of nowhere."

  "I want you to take this rifle and hold it close anyway."

  She handed him the weapon Dylan had packed into the duffel before they'd fallen from the plane.

  "It's loaded. Here's another clip.” She dropped the magazine on the ground.

  Mac chuckled. “With Big Bertha here to keep me safe, I'll be just fine."

  "Better be."

  "Get out of here. You're wasting light."

  She nodded, but hesitated a moment before

  disappearing beyond the chute. He heard them shift and take to the sky.

  Christ, it was hot. The sunlight filtering through the chute made the makeshift shelter feel like an oven. Taking a nap didn't seem so impossible after all as his eyes drooped and a yawn overcame him.

  With the rifle across his chest, Mac closed his eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep.

  Nothing. Not a goddamn trace of water for miles and miles. Robyn lost track of how long she'd been flying, but the sun hung low. She needed to get back before it set completely. Maybe Dylan had better luck. She hoped so.

  She would have been happy to find a small town, a gas station, hell, even a road would have been a bonus. But she hadn't found a thing. Her wings were tired and she was already exhausted beyond measure. Perhaps if she'd been a real owl she would have had more stamina, but flying had taken some getting used to in the first place. Doing it for an extended period of time wore her out.

  Robyn turned in the sky just as a low thunder reached her ears. The sky was clear, there were no clouds. What was that noise?

  There, on the horizon, was a black shape, flying low over the landscape. With her sharp eyes, she knew exactly what it was.

  A helicopter.

  And it was headed straight for their makeshift camp.

  She doubted it was a rescue chopper. No one knew they were out here. It had to have been dispatched by B*E*A*S*T*—she'd bet her life on it.

  They hadn't killed their beacons fast enough.

  Son of a bitch!

  Pushing herself beyond her limits, she tried hard to fight the currents. But the chopper was faster. It took off across the desert, leaving her in its wake. Her only hope now was if Dylan had made it back in time to defend Mac.

  Damn it, she never should have left him. Her body wavered in the sky as she strained to fly. She'd cry her frustration if she could.

  She had to reach her mate, there wasn't another

  option.

  Mackenzie! she screamed in her mind. Please, Dylan, please be there to protect him!

  Mac awoke to the sound of a thousand horses pounding through his skull. A sudden wind had kicked up, knocking all kinds of dust and debris every which way. It caught the parachute like a sail and sent it flying, exposing him once again to the harsh light of the sun.

  With a cry, he realized all at once that the noise wasn't horses’ hooves, but the beating of chopper blades, and they were the source of the phantom wind. Dust flew into his eyes, hindering his sight as it landed. He raised his rifle.

  There was no way Robyn and Dylan had been gone long enough to scramble a helicopter. That just left one possibility.

  His skin tingling with fear, he tried like hell to wipe his eyes free from dirt.

  The door on the side of the machine slid open. At that moment, a small barn owl lit on the ground between Mac and the chopper. It shifted into a huge silverback gorilla.

  Dylan! God bless the man.

  He beat his chest a few times and charged. Mac could hear the report of the guns, but it didn't seem to phase Dylan when he grabbed one of the men who'd already stepped out onto the dirt.

  Mac didn't have to hear the snap to know that man's neck had broken like a twig. Dylan dropped him to the ground and his head rested at an odd angle, making Mac's stomach convulse within him.

  Dylan roared once more, but faltered. He tried to grab a second man who stepped away from him, shooting what looked to be a tranq dart into the middle of the gorilla's chest. Dylan tried to pull it out, but had no such luck as his hairy arms weren't working as they should.

  He fell over with a few more darts sticking out of him.

  "Dylan!” Mac's voice was drowned out by the swirling blades.

  With one more valiant effort, Mac raised his rifle, only to be confronted by three others as more men leapt from the

  helicopter.

  Pulling the trigger a few times, he had no idea if he hit his targets. The men rushed forward, guns trained on him. He sat up in a clumsy effort to stand, only to have shards of fire race through his limbs. Yeah, that wasn't happening.

  He glanced back at the chopper and spied one more person inside, a man Mac was intimately familiar with.

  Dr. Lucian Carver.

  Fury bubbled within him and every other thought faded. That bastard had taken Robyn away from him. He'd mind-wiped her and experimented on her. That man was going to die.

  Just as he was about to shift, agony be damned, a few sharp needles entered his skin as the men fired their tranqs at him.

  "No,” he screamed. “No! You goddamn bastard!"

  Mac's head lolled back and his last thought was of Robyn, hoping against hope she hadn't been caught. Let her be free.

  Please, God, let her be free...

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&nb
sp; EIGHTEEN

  She was too late.

  Spicy scents permeated the air, of strange shifters and the oily exhaust of a machine. Mac and Dylan had apparently been loaded and carried off into the twilight sky, as their aromas were present, but they were nowhere to be found.

  The sun had barely begun to set when Robyn witnessed the chopper take off for the far mountains on the horizon. She was exhausted, and it had taken all her strength to fly back at the fastest speed she could manage. Now that Mac was gone, she shifted and fell to her knees, naked in the dirt. There was no way she could fly another mile. Her arms were like noodles and her lungs ached with exertion.

  How a true bird flew for hours on end she'd never know.

  Despite the crack in her heart and the sobs that threatened below the surface, Robyn's tears refused to come. Perhaps it was due to her dehydration. Maybe her fatigue. But all she wanted to do was fall over and blow away with the gentle desert breeze.

  Those bastards hadn't taken the duffel bag. It still lay a few feet away, unzipped. Beneath the layer of sand and clothes, a tranq gun was inside, as well as a few darts and vials of serum. Better than nothing.

  The rifle and magazine she'd given to Mac were simply gone. They'd probably taken them right along with him.

  Robyn frantically dressed in the men's clothing Dylan had shoved inside the bag. The helicopter had likely blown away the clothes she'd removed in order to shift a little while

  ago. She didn't want to waste time looking for them.

  Thankfully, the blue jeans and the dark green t-shirt weren't too baggy. They sagged, but not so much that they were going to fall off. Thank God for hips.

  Dylan hadn't found time to dress before being taken—his boots were still in the dirt near the remains of the parachute. She couldn't go barefoot any longer. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  The boots were enormous, but they would keep the soles of her feet from scraping on sharp rocks and sagebrush.

  And she'd need them if she planned on going after her mate.

  In the two months she'd been missing, never once had Mackenzie tired in his search to find her. Robyn was determined to return the favor. He was the man she loved and she'd be damned if he was going to become like Dylan, a crossbreed—powerful, yet dangerously unstable.