by Paige Tyler
Dammit.
Ivy holstered her gun and slipped down the wall to the street, landing lightly on the sidewalk in front of a darkened shop window. She sniffed the air and groaned. No wonder the mysterious shifter had come this way. The wind whipping down this street would make picking up a scent trail nearly impossible. The guy was good. He’d known there was another shifter on his trail.
She’d just pulled out her cell phone to let Landon know where she was when her kitty alarm went nuts. A split second later, she felt a prickling sensation along her back as someone dropped down soundlessly behind her. Crap. He’d somehow hidden on the wall and waited for her to climb right past him. What the hell kind of shifter could camouflage himself so well?
She breathed in, imprinting his strange scent on her memory. That was when she picked up another scent, one more familiar. She’d smelled it on the slim woman from the jungles of Costa Rica, the one who’d led them to the research compound.
Ivy forced herself to relax, ready to twist and slash at his face before diving to the side and drawing her SIG. She didn’t know who this guy was, but he’d made a mistake if he thought he could sneak up on her just because her back was turned.
But the sudden pressure of something round and hard pressed into her back stopped her cold.
“Don’t move, Ms. Halliwell.”
His voice was a slow, sibilant whisper in her ear, and for some strange reason, her body obeyed his command without any conscious thought on her part. She bit back a hiss as the fog cleared and forced her head to start working again. She transferred her weight to her toes, ready to spring sideways.
“Stop that,” he ordered in that same eerie whisper, and she froze again. This time, he didn’t give her time to gather herself before he continued. “I have no desire to shoot you or your partner.”
Was it just her imagination or had the man said partner with just a bit too much emphasis?
“Then what are you going to do?” she demanded.
“Warn you.”
That cold voice didn’t reassure her at all. Many people would consider a bullet in the back a very effective warning.
The man chuckled softly. “I don’t have much time. Your partner is racing around to this side of the block as we speak, so I’ll be brief. Trust John, or you’ll get him killed. And though you don’t understand it yet, he’s the only thing keeping you and the other shifters alive right now.”
Ivy frowned. That didn’t come across as the warning she’d expected. It didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, either. She turned her head ever so slightly, trying to get a glimpse of the man holding her at gunpoint.
The pressure against her back increased, and she immediately jerked her head around to face the window again. Down the street, boots pounded the pavement, getting closer. Landon. The shifter heard it, too, and turned his head toward the sound, allowing her to see his reflection in the dark glass for the first time. Unfortunately, the street lamp that illuminated the window also wreathed his face in shadows. Her eyes shifted to pick up more light.
He must have sensed her gaze on him because he turned his head slightly to look at her. And in that moment, she saw his face—dark blond hair, angled brows, high cheekbones, an aquiline nose—and his eyes.
Ivy’s breath froze. She’d never seen eyes like this on any man—or any shifter. They were a wash of orange and yellow that shown clear, even in the dim reflection of the window. But while the color was shocking enough, the pupils made shivers run up and down her spine. They were cold, black, and partially slitted. Not like her own cat’s eyes, but more like a lizard’s. It was the freakiest thing she’d ever seen.
She had no idea how long they held eye contact like that, but then the man blinked, and she involuntarily jerked away. Maybe blinked wasn’t the right word. But what did you call it when an inner set of thin, clear lids closed over the eyes from side to side?
The shifter laughed softly. “Trust John, Ms. Halliwell. Everything depends on him.”
Behind her, the air fluttered, then the reflection in the window was gone.
Ivy was still standing there staring up at the roof when Landon ran up to her.
“What happened?” he asked.
She didn’t move. Any thought of trying to follow the shifter fled her mind the second she’d seen him scale the wall. He covered two stories in less than five seconds. She didn’t want to think about how easily a man like that could get around a city like this. She and Landon would never even get close to him unless he wanted them to. And that was exactly what had happened. He’d let them follow him, then split them up, letting her move right past him without her ever seeing or smelling him just so he could give her a warning she didn’t understand.
“Ivy?” Landon took her arm, gently turning her to face him. “What is it? What did you see?”
“I have no idea,” she said.
***
Kendra hadn’t seen or heard from Declan since they’d gotten back two days ago. She’d called, texted, emailed, even gone to his apartment, but no luck. He was avoiding her. If it was any other guy, she would have thought he regretted sleeping with her. But her gut told her there was more to it than that.
He wouldn’t be able to avoid her forever. Tonight, everyone was meeting at Ivy and Landon’s apartment so the couple could fill them in on the strange shifter they’d run into when they followed John the night before. So far, Clayne and Danica had arrived. So had Tate, Gavin, and Brent. Derek and Angelo would have been there too, but the two Special Forces soldiers were already on their way to Tajikistan with the rest of their team. The only one who hadn’t shown up yet was Declan.
Maybe he was just running late.
Or maybe he really was planning on avoiding her forever.
She’d be damned if she’d let him.
She picked up her glass of iced tea and walked over to where Tate was talking to Clayne by the sliding glass door that led out onto the terrace. They stopped in mid-conversation to greet her with, “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“You weren’t. We were just talking shop.” Tate took a swig of beer from the bottle in his hand. “What’s up?”
She smiled. “Not much. Just wondering where Declan is. I thought he’d be here already.”
Tate shared a look with Clayne. “He’s not coming.”
Her hand tightened on the glass. “Why not? Is he okay?”
Declan had eaten four MREs, then gone into hibernation the minute they’d boarded the plane for the trip home. By the time they’d touched down in DC, his wounds had completely healed. Oh God. What if he had a relapse or something?
“He’s fine,” Tate assured her.
The words should have made her feel better, but instead they only made her stomach clench more. “Then why isn’t he here?”
Tate stared down at his beer bottle for what seemed like forever. When he lifted his head to look at her again, there was sympathy in his hazel eyes. “Kendra, Declan is leaving the DCO.”
She had to put her hand against the wall to steady herself. It felt like someone had just kicked her in the stomach. “What? Why?”
Tate shook his head. “I don’t know. He won’t say. I was hoping that you’d be able to tell me. I got the feeling that something happened with you two out there in the jungle.”
“Nothing happened.” Unless you counted falling in love. Apparently Declan didn’t. “Do you know where he is?”
“At his place,” Tate said. “Probably packing.”
Kendra’s hand started to tremble so much she almost spilled iced tea all over the wool area rug. She set the glass on the mantle above the gas fireplace. “I have to go see him. Tell Ivy and Landon I left.”
She didn’t wait for either man to reply, but just scooped her purse up from the floor in the entryway where she’d left it, then grabbed her coat from the nearby closet and hurried out of the apartment. Ivy’d already filled her in on the mysterious shifter and his cryptic me
ssage anyway, so she wouldn’t be missing anything. Except Declan if he left. There already felt like there was a hole in her heart.
Kendra was halfway to the elevator when Ivy’s voice stopped her. She turned to see her dark-haired friend hurrying down the hallway, her brow furrowed in concern.
“I saw you leave,” Ivy said. “What’s wrong?”
Kendra didn’t feel like standing there talking when Declan could already be leaving, but Ivy was her best friend. She deserved to know what was going on.
“It’s Declan,” she said. “He’s quitting the DCO.”
Ivy’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
She nodded miserably. “I can’t let him go, not after what happened between us in Costa Rica.” Tears blurred her vision. “How can he leave when I’m in love with him, dammit?”
“Maybe he doesn’t know.”
Kendra frowned. “Of course he does. I told him!”
“What did he say?”
She opened her mouth but then winced. “Nothing. He was sort of unconscious at the time.” At Ivy’s shocked look, she added, “He was injured and went into hibernation to heal…don’t ask. Anyway, I told him I loved him before I left the shelter to lure the hybrids away from him.”
Ivy already knew that part of the story, so she didn’t have to rehash it, thank God.
“What am I going to do about Declan?” she groaned. “I won’t let him leave, even if I have to hold him at gunpoint.”
Ivy smiled. “That’s one way to handle it, but probably not the best. If Declan is like every other man on the planet, being subtle isn’t going to work. Tell him exactly how you feel and exactly what you want.”
Her friend made it sound so simple. Kendra squeezed her keys so tightly they dug into her palm. What if the reason he was leaving was because he already knew how she felt, and he didn’t feel the same? The thought hurt too much to contemplate, much less articulate.
She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I can’t stay for dinner.”
Ivy gave her a hug. “Don’t worry about it. Go tell Declan you love him.”
Kendra’s head spun as she drove to Declan’s apartment. She replayed everything that had happened in Costa Rica. Everything had seemed so perfect in the cave. Where had it gone wrong?
She was still trying to figure it out when she rang his doorbell thirty minutes later. There was no answer, just like the other two times she’d stopped by.
“I know you’re in there, Declan, and I’m not leaving until you open this door and talk to me,” she called. “I’ll just keep ringing the bell until your neighbors call the cops. And when they come, I’ll tell them you haven’t been at work for days and that I think you may be hurt. I’ll convince them to kick in your door. You know I can do that.”
No answer.
Kendra rang the bell again, holding it down longer this time. When that didn’t get the response she was looking for, she banged on the door with her fist.
Still no answer.
She muttered a curse. If he thought she was going to let him walk away that easily, then he didn’t know her very well. She dug in her purse for her iPhone, ready to go through with her threat and call the police when the door suddenly jerked open.
Declan stood there barefoot, wearing a pair of low-slung jeans and nothing else. His hair was damp and he had the perfect amount of stubble on his jaw. He looked good enough to eat. The gashes that had covered his chest were so faint she could barely see them unless she really looked. And gazing at all that muscle right now was way too distracting. It was all she could do not to reach out and run her hands over him.
“I was in the shower,” he said.
“Uh-huh.” Considering he was half-dressed and his hair was slightly wet, he probably wasn’t lying about that. But she seriously doubted he had been in the shower the other times she’d stopped by. She looked pointedly at the muscular arm he had braced on the doorjamb blocking her way, then back at him. “Can I come in?”
Declan was still for so long that Kendra actually considered whether she could duck under his arm before he could stop her. But then he stepped back. That was a relief. For a minute there she had visions of him picking her up and putting her outside like Fred always did with the saber-toothed cat on The Flintstones. There wasn’t much she could have done except followed Fred’s example and pounded on the door…again.
She looked around. While Declan’s place definitely didn’t have a woman’s touch, it wasn’t the quintessential bachelor pad, either. The hardwood floor and neutral palette with its touches of blues and greens gave the place an outdoorsy feel that fit him.
“What do you want, Kendra?”
She turned to see him standing in the entryway, regarding her with his arms crossed over his chest. The cool, detached tone in his voice made tears spring to her eyes. But she kept it together.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“About what?”
What the hell did he think they needed to talk about? “About why you’re leaving the DCO.”
Declan scowled and muttered something under his breath. “Tate told you.”
“He shouldn’t have had to. I should have heard it from you, Declan.” She stomped across the room to stand in front of him. “I’m here now, so go ahead. Tell me why you suddenly decided to leave.”
He brushed past her. “It’s time for a change.”
She’d been working at the DCO long enough to know a lie when she heard it. She took a breath, keeping her gaze fixed on the door as she willed herself to stay calm. Getting into a shouting match with Declan wouldn’t do anything but make them both mad. But even if what he said wasn’t true, it was still hard to take. She’d risked her life to keep him safe in that damn jungle. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, then turned to face him.
“You were supposed to take me out to dinner,” she reminded him.
“I only said that so you’d eat that stupid power bar,” he growled.
She didn’t believe that. “Is that why you made love to me, too?”
He looked at her sharply. “You know it wasn’t.”
“Then how can you just leave?” she demanded, her voice rising. “If this is about Derek kissing me, it was nothing. He and I danced a few times at Ivy and Landon’s wedding…”
His eyes went wide.
Oh crap.
“You can’t tell anyone Ivy and Landon are married, Declan.”
“You know me better than that.”
“I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.” She walked over to stand in front of him. “Declan, why are you leaving? I thought what we shared in Costa Rica meant as much to you as it did to me.”
She thought for a moment that she’d finally broken through the wall he’d rebuilt around himself, but then he shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Kendra,” he said softly. “It’s just better this way.”
She stifled a scream. Better? How could leaving her make anything better? She opened her mouth to ask him that very question, but then she remembered Ivy’s advice.
Tell him exactly how you feel and exactly what you want.
She ran her hand through her hair. “Declan, I don’t understand any of this, and if you really want to walk out on the DCO—and me—there isn’t much I can do to stop you, but I’m going to have my say before you go.”
“Kendra—”
“Dammit, Declan, I love you!” So much for taking the calm approach. “I’ve loved you since that morning I woke up on your chest in that cave. And I don’t want you to leave.”
She wasn’t sure what she expected him to say or do after a proclamation like that, but a reaction of some kind would have been nice. Instead, he just stood there, looking sad and forlorn. She steeled herself. Here it came, the part she’d feared, when he told her he didn’t feel the same.
“I’m sure you think you do, but it doesn’t matter,” he said quietly.
Kendra didn’t know which part of that sentence was more condescending—the part
where he decided she only thought she loved him, or the part where he decided that laying her heart on the floor at his feet didn’t matter to him.
She moved closer until she was only inches from that big, perfect, muscular chest of his. Then she poked him with a finger.
“Don’t you dare patronize me,” she shouted. “If I say I love you, then I love you. I’ve never said those words to another man in my life, and I won’t stand here and let you throw it back in my face. And as for it not mattering, well, it sure as hell matters to me!”
His lips quirked ever so slightly, but he didn’t smile. Which was a good thing. If he started laughing at her, she’d smack him.
“I didn’t mean to sound patronizing, Kendra. I really didn’t,” he said. “I know that you feel what you feel. All I’m trying to say is that in our case, being in love isn’t enough.”
Okay, that was…confusing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He didn’t answer.
“Declan, please talk to me,” she begged.
He gently brushed her hair back, allowing his hand to linger there for just a moment before letting it fall to his side with a sigh. “I’m saying that you don’t have to pretend for me. I saw the expression on your face when I showed up in the hybrid camp. I saw the fear and panic plain as day. It wasn’t the first time I’ve seen that look on a woman’s face, but it sure as hell will be the last, I promise you that.”
What did he mean about her pretending? And what did her reaction to seeing him in the hybrid camp have to do with any of this? If she remembered correctly, she’d been overwhelmed by a dozen different emotions at that time. And yes, fear and panic had definitely been among them.
That’s when it hit her. This had nothing to do with her or how she’d looked at him that day. The whole drive over here she’d been trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. Trying to imagine what she could have said that was so bad it made Declan feel he had to leave the DCO to avoid being around her. But the one thing she’d never imagined was that Declan was leaving because he thought she was scared of him. He thought his worst nightmare was happening all over again, only this time it was her instead of Marissa, and this time he decided to be the one who ran. Crap, why the heck hadn’t he just told her all this?
