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

by Rebecca Goings

  "Dr. Carver."

  "Bingo,” the one known as Wolfe said.

  "I smell him."

  "He was here a moment ago."

  "I vowed to kill him."

  The blond chuckled. “You did many times. Hell, we all did."

  Mac turned his head and looked at the men behind him. “You're Noah and Rogan."

  Rogan rolled his eyes. “Deja vu."

  Noah gave him a stern look.

  Mac glanced at the other man in the room. He looked like...Jet, but it wasn't him.

  "That's Tam,” Rogan said, pointing his thumb at him. “Don't trust him any farther than you can throw him."

  "Hey!” the Asian man protested.

  "It's true!” Rogan responded. “You're a clone of one evil son of a bitch. For all we know, you're a good actor."

  Tam fumed. “I'm not."

  "Guess we'll just have to wait and see."

  "Noah! Rogan! Bastard got away!"

  "That's Wade,” Noah breathed before making a beeline to the door. Wade rushed in, followed closely by the man Mac knew as Jet, who just so happened to be as naked as he was.

  "We need that badge to open the elevator if we're gonna catch up. We couldn't stop him in time."

  "He's headed for the chopper,” Tam said, stepping up to them.

  "I thought you were the pilot?” Noah asked.

  "I'm not the only one."

  "Jesus. Okay, let's move out. We've got Mac, let's see if we can stop Carver from making a getaway."

  "What about Trevor and Dylan?” Robyn asked. Mac draped his arm around her. She shrank into his body.

  Rogan took a deep breath and sighed. “The shifters have been freed. We've got to believe they'll get out. I'd be willing to bet that elevator isn't the only way out of this pit. But it works for us. Let's go."

  "What about clothing?” Tam asked, glancing between Mac and Jet, obviously trying to avoid looking at anything he shouldn't.

  "Least of our worries, panther,” Noah said, his eyes flashing. “Let's get the hell out of here."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  TWENTY SIX

  "Ramirez! Where is Ramirez?"

  Lucian clutched Greg Blake's collar and slammed the man against the wall.

  "I-I don't know sir, I saw him not too long ago—"

  "Where?"

  "I-in his office, sir, but I'm not sure he's there now. The military said we need to clear out within the hour."

  "I know!"

  Lucian let him go and jogged down the hall, cursing all that junk food he'd eaten through the years. With his lungs burning, he reached Ramirez's office, but no one was there.

  "Damn it."

  Whirling around, he made his way to the helipad. Maybe he'd get lucky. A few people running past him said they saw Ramirez on the roof overlooking the soldiers securing the airfield.

  Lucian breathed a sigh of relief and made his way to the stairs.

  "Mackenzie Bishop, as I live and breathe!"

  Robyn spun around to see Dylan approaching them, covered in blood and grinning like an idiot. His belly was horribly disdended and he winced as he walked, but other than that, he seemed happier than a pig in slop with an army of shifters at his back.

  Rogan's eyes widened and he whistled through his teeth.

  "So this is Dylan?"

  "In the flesh,” Dylan said with a wink, indicating his

  unclothed frame. “Looks like we're a bunch of nudists!"

  He patted his belly and took a deep breath. “Shit, jag, you don't smell right."

  "I'm a bear."

  Dylan's guffawed and punched his shoulder. “Welcome to the goddamn club."

  The bell on the elevator chimed as the doors opened.

  "That's our cue,” Rogan said.

  "Where you headed?"

  "Gonna kill me a scientist."

  Robyn glanced sharply at Mac as he said those words. The glee in them was unmistakable.

  "Good for you! I was thinking of heading up top myself."

  "There's military up there, Dylan, be careful,” she said.

  He scoffed. “We'll take our chances. Maybe give you guys some cover to head to the hills."

  "You're a no-good bastard.” Mac's sudden change of mood shocked Robyn. Her hand squeezed his.

  Dylan chuckled. “Well if he's been wiped, they did a mighty shitty job, eh? Knows me like my own mother!"

  Before Dylan turned away, Mac balled his fist and punched him with all his might, pulling Robyn along into his swing.

  She stumbled from the force of it, but was caught by Mac's strong embrace before she fell over.

  "I never want to see you again."

  Dylan gave him a bloody grin. “Consider it done, jag. It's been a real trip."

  With that, he led his band of crossbreeds down the hall and out of sight as Mac and Robyn finally loaded on to the elevator.

  "Got that out of your system?” Rogan asked with a scowl. Robyn couldn't help her low chuckle.

  Mac didn't answer, but held her in front of him, his arms hooked around her waist. His nose was buried in her hair and his breath puffed warm on her skin. She leaned her head back to give him more room to kiss her neck.

  "These two need to get a room,” Rogan groaned.

  "You just miss your wife,” Noah countered.

  "And you don't miss yours? You're a liar if you say no."

  "Oh, I miss her something fierce."

  "How long is this elevator ride anyway?"

  "Long enough to torture the crap out of us."

  Robyn grinned and placed a feather-soft kiss on Mac's cheek.

  She was back in her mate's arms.

  "What are you doing?"

  Lucian was in a fine panic. He'd found Ramirez easily enough, standing on the helipad and watching the hustle and bustle below. It hadn't been hard convincing the man they needed to leave the facility, but he was wasting precious time. What the hell was taking so long?

  "I can't just lift off,” Ramirez retorted through the open door on the side of the chopper. “There's a checklist I gotta run through. You sure those boys on the ground will let us leave?"

  Just when Lucian was about to open his mouth and tell the man where he could shove his checklist, screams, shouting, and gunfire filled the air.

  That could only mean one thing.

  The shifters had found their way out through the underground garage.

  "We have to go. Now!"

  "But, sir, the checklist—"

  "Can go to hell!"

  "We could have a fuel leak or the controls might be jacked."

  "I'll take my chances with a crash, thank you very much."

  Ramirez stood on the pad with his hands on his hips. The look on his face only pissed Lucian off.

  "Get. In. The. Chopper!"

  The man lifted his hands palm up in surrender, then climbed in and strapped his seatbelt. They put on their headphones with built-in microphones just as the engines whirred to life.

  "How long before we're in the air?"

  "About a minute, sir. What's going on down there?” Ramirez asked, trying to look beyond the helipad.

  A minute? That was an eternity!

  Lucian squirmed on his seat and yelled at the pilot. “Armafriggingeddon!"

  Every moment, with every beat of his heart, Mac's memories returned to him. Details were still foggy, but he remembered finding Robyn in the Florida Everglades and running from the shifter he thought had killed Jet and Trevor. He remembered the cargo plane, breaking his leg, and getting taken by B*E*A*S*T* in the desert. What happened after that was unclear.

  But the elevator had been thick with Carver's scent. It had only served to fuel Mac's desire to see the man dead. Now that they'd reached the top, the hallway reeked of him as well. Something inside him growled. The bear. Jesus, he still couldn't believe he'd become a crossbreed.

  But that wasn't the worst of it.

  Seeing Dylan down below had jumbled his senses. He knew he h
adn't been in his right mind and that scared him to the bone. His moods had changed too quickly, from elation to fury at the drop of a hat. Good Lord, was he going to become like that crazy-ass gorilla?

  He hoped it was just a side-effect of the transformation.

  He suspected it wasn't.

  And damn it, he wouldn't be able to hide this from Robyn.

  The bear roared, demanding to be set free. Something snapped inside him when the scent of Lucian wafted to him once more.

  Leaving his mate and the others, Mac took off running, barely hearing them yelling for him to stop. He couldn't stop. His instincts had taken over. The Kodiak wanted retribution and holy shit, he wanted to give it to him.

  Scientists scooted out of his way, even military personnel who'd begun to secure the compound looked at him in shock. Only a few of them shouted at him, as they seemed already preoccupied with noises coming from outside.

  Mac didn't care. His vision turned red and nothing mattered but finding Lucian and feasting on his black heart.

  He'd come this way. His stench disappeared up a flight of stairs. The familiar thunder of a helicopter resonated off the walls as Mac took the stairs two at a time.

  That bastard was trying to get away!

  Without conscious thought on Mac's part, coarse, thick hair began to grow on his arms and legs. His body bent down as he ran, pounding up the steps on all fours. His frame grew until he was massive, thick with powerful, sinuous muscles. A snout appeared on his face and his every sense sharpened, until his entire being pulsed with exhiliration.

  He was a bear.

  And he was going to kick some ass.

  Double doors stood at the top of the staircase, but Mac burst through them as if they weren't even there. He was surprised the hallway had been big enough to house him. He'd never seen a Kodiak with his own eyes, but he knew by his sheer size alone those bad boys were enormous.

  For the first time, he thought it might not be such a burden to be a crossbreed after all.

  The wind from the helicopter blades fluffed his dark hair. He howled as it began to take to the sky. There was Lucian, staring right at him with horror on his face.

  Mac's world focused on him. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but finally killing that son of a bitch.

  His newly-formed legs pummeled the helipad as he ran forward. With strength he didn't even know he possessed, he reared up and leapt at the chopper. His front paws hooked around the left skid. With an added thousand pounds of weight, the helicopter came crashing back down, listing dangerously toward the ground.

  Mac would be damned before he let go now. This bird wasn't going anywhere.

  The main rotor hit the pad, destroying itself as it tore apart, twirling the chopper in circles on the red target. The tail soon followed as the rear rotor clipped the pad in a spectacular display of sparks and fire.

  The chopper came to rest on its side with its motors screeching and smoking. The scent of the pilot's fear peppered the air with its pungent smell, but Mac didn't give a shit about him. He wanted Lucian. And the side door was wide open.

  Mac didn't have to climb in. His body was so big, he could merely reach in with his paw. A few swipes told him he'd hit his mark as Lucian shrieked the safeword again and again.

  Blood filled his nostrils. It smelled glorious. Never had Mac been so delerious with the need to breathe it in. It aroused him. He wanted to bathe in it. Rub it all over his skin as he bent down and...

  He closed his eyes, too afraid to finish that thought.

  Jesus.

  Where had that come from?

  "Mackenzie!"

  "Mac! Holy effing shit!"

  The others. They'd found him. Robyn had found him. She'd be so delighted at his victory! No, she'd be disappointed. Disgusted. Wouldn't she? Did he kill Carver? He had no idea. But he didn't dare look back in that chopper. Those crazy, insane thoughts might return.

  Wade climbed onto the skids and looked into the ruined helicopter.

  "What did you do?” he yelled.

  The others looked for themselves, disbelief written on their faces.

  Don't look, Robyn. Don't look. Oh, God.

  He backed away from his destruction, shaking his enormous head.

  With a painful cry, he shifted, returning to his human state. Mac crumpled on the pad, crying into his balled fists. Soft hands caressed his shoulders.

  Her.

  He grabbed her and cradled her in his lap, despite his bloody hands.

  "Don't look, please, don't look in there.” He was rocking back and forth.

  "I didn't,” she cooed, soothing him with her fingers through his hair. “You're all right now. Just hold on. For me, can you do that, baby?"

  Mac nodded furiously. “For you. Robyn."

  "He's not dead!” Rogan shouted. “I don't know how, but the man's not dead. Christ, it's a mess in here! Tiger! I need your help."

  Sounds of the others working in the smoking chopper reached his ears, but he'd stopped listening. His world was spinning out of control. The only thing grounding him was the woman in his arms.

  And it scared the ever-loving shit out of him.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  TWENTY SEVEN

  "It's the only way to save him."

  "Sounds like poetic justice to me."

  "Explain why we should save him again?"

  Noah glanced at everyone in the darkened lab who was surrounding the very chair Mac had sat in when Lucian mind-wiped him a second time. No one had questioned them when they raced down the halls back to the elevator with a bleeding and practically shredded man slung over Noah's shoulder. The soldiers probably assumed they were some of their own, helping a fallen civilian.

  It had appeared Dylan and the other shifters were giving the soldiers outside a run for their money. Noah couldn't help but silently thank them for the distraction.

  He'd had a crazy idea to wipe Lucian's memory and transform him into a shifter. It was the only way to ensure he'd heal fast enough to save his life—with the added bonus of not knowing who the hell he was.

  "Go for it.” Tam's eyes glittered. “It's no less than he deserves."

  Noah still wasn't used to the man he'd once killed now helping them in this mess. But this wasn't the same Tam he'd fought in Colorado, this was a clone. A different person with the same face. He shuddered regardless.

  "I say we let him bleed out."

  Noah glared at Jet. “Since when have you become a bloodthirsty bastard?"

  "Since I was kidnapped and turned into a crossbreed!"

  "We can't let him die."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we're not like them!” The room descended into silence. Noah gestured to Mac and Robyn, who stood far away, huddled in the corner. “Mac's not in his right mind. He's just as pissed as any of us are at this...man, if you can call him that. But we're not murderers. Mac is not a murderer and I'm not too keen to turn him into one.

  "Wiping Carver and changing him will keep him from dying and keep him from the project. Sure, he'll be a shifter, but think of it. He'll forget everything! He's the mastermind behind all of these experiments. Bring him down, and bring down the entire agency."

  "Someone's already doing that upstairs,” Jet said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Noah nodded. “And wiping Lucian is insurance that they'll get what they want. And we'll get what we want."

  "Do it."

  Turning, Noah glanced at Mac, shocked that he'd spoken up. His features had hardened, despite his red-rimmed eyes. He stepped further into the room, his arm still draped around Robyn.

  "Do it,” he repeated.

  Noah could smell his unease. Mac's scent waffled between wanting to kill and wanting to have mercy. He was warring with himself, trying to fight the urge to give in to the madness. With a nod, Noah turned back to Lucian, barely conscious and bleeding all over the floor.

  Gashes from Mac's bear claws colored his belly and both his legs. They were dee
p and looked painful, but no one had bothered making sure he was comfortable.

  He'd been propped in the chair, and Noah secured his arms and legs with the straps. His mind needed to be wiped before the DNA transformation could take place. Otherwise, they risked giving him the same dementia the crossbreeds now had. The only problem was, mind-wiping wasn't infallible, as the shifters had been able to remember bits and pieces of their lives before, something the scientists never knew. Most likely that was why the crossbreeds were unstable.

  The mind-wipe didn't erase everything. Especially if someone knew how to resist. But the crossbreeds had paid a high price for resisting—and that price was now evident all

  over Mac's stoic face.

  Placing Lucian's head in the halo that kept him from moving, Noah watched as Rogan pried his eyelids open to receive the springs that prevented them from closing again. The long arm of the optical mask swung toward the chair and covered Carver's face. There was only one thing left to do.

  Noah flipped the switch.

  "Well, that's it,” Rogan said, turning from the pod. Its lid had just closed and the countdown clock started at thirty minutes.

  Half an hour was all it took. The thought made bile rise in the back of Robyn's throat. She hoped like hell she never saw the inside of another B*E*A*S*T* facility for as long as she lived.

  They'd dumped a naked Lucian into one of the two pods that already had tanks of DNA prepped and ready to go. They hadn't been picky, they merely chose one and let B*E*A*S*T*'s technology do the rest.

  Lucian had apparently been experimenting with desert animals, as the DNA tanks read “hawk” and “coyote". No one wanted to give him the ability to fly. Rogan had made a crack about coyote's being scavengers, and the choice had been made.

  Now, however, the sounds of Lucian's muffled screams prompted Robyn to pull Mac into the hallway. He didn't need to hear that. Hell, she didn't either, for that matter.

  Her mate was still as white as a sheet. He hadn't said much since his episode on the helipad. She wasn't going to push him. It had to be hard coming to grips with being a crossbreed, not to mention trying to overcome the effects of a mind-wipe, something she was all too familiar with.

  They'd managed to find a couple of lab coats for Mac and Jet to wear instead of walking around naked. Now, they just needed to leave.