Hour of the Lion

by Cherise Sinclair

  Ignoring the ache in her chest, she scowled and snapped, "Just shut up and keep pressure on that wound."

  When a siren wailed its approach, she almost cheered. The cavalry had arrived.

  A second later, the young deputy burst into the store and stopped dead at the carnage.

  With adrenaline still pumping in her veins, and relief threatening to choke her up, she took it out on him. "You fucking idiot! I told nine-one-one the owner was shot. Have you ever heard of checking things out first?"

  In the corner of her eye, she saw Alec doing just that, standing to one side, looking through the window. He entered silently and gently pushed his deputy aside before kicking the pistol away from the dead guy. His dark green eyes flickered over Vic and the downed men. When he looked at Thorson, his mouth tightened. "You‘re getting‘ slow, Joe. Is it bad?"

  "Nah, missed the good stuff." Thorson moved his shoulder and grimaced. "Hurts less than a clawing."

  "Oh, sure it does." Alec looked around again, his face impassive, so coldly competent that Vic wanted to fling herself into his arms, and how wrong was that?

  His gaze returned to Thorson. "What‘re they after? They don‘t have the scent of druggies."

  Thorson tilted his head. "Her."

  She‘d already begun edging toward the storeroom door when Alec‘s eyes pinned her to the spot. "Talk to me, Vixen."

  Looking out the window past him, she saw a dark car crawl down the street. One man. The backup. She retreated another step. "I need to get out of here."

  Alec turned, spotted the car.

  An ambulance passed it and screeched to a stop with two wheels on the sidewalk. Joe would be okay. Thank you, God.

  Frowning at her, Thorson jerked his head at the back. "Git."

  "Jenkins, take Thorson outside. I‘ll lock the store behind you," Alec ordered and elaborated,

  "If they ask, say a guy attacked Thorson, trying to get money, and escaped as you arrived." He flashed a grin. "No need to mention the dead bodies or the short, skinny female."

  "Got it." The deputy nodded, raised his eyebrows at Vic. "Thanks for the advice on reconnoitering. Now get out of here, short, skinny female."

  They seemed awfully blasé about dead people.

  With a sigh, she pulled the body blocking the storeroom away, then opened the door.

  Alec stepped up behind her, tucking his fingers under her belt to halt her. "I‘ll bring the car around to the park. Wait for me by the big oak." He handed over her knife, then strolled out the front.

  Indecision gnawed at her as she hurried through the back door. Make for the trees or let him help? Everything in her said go it alone. Teammates only got in the way or got hurt. If anything should happen to Alec… The thought stole her breath.

  But as she crossed the park, the tall, wet grass flattened beneath her feet, leaving an indelible trail. They‘d know exactly where she went. But she could manage. She‘d almost reached the tree line when she spotted the big oak.

  Guilt tightened her jaw. However Swane had found her, she‘d targeted this town for him.

  Even worse, if she left a trail to the forest, his men would comb the mountain and might run into unprepared shifters.

  Dammit. She‘d have to do this the hard way—and accept help. Forcing herself to turn, she walked over to the oak and watched Alec‘s car slide around the corner and up to her.

  *

  Less than an hour later, Alec stood in the tunnel entrance with his brother and Vicki. He frowned. The rain had turned to sleet. Up higher, it would be snowing heavily, and there wasn‘t much daylight left.

  Vicki shook her head. "I still think I should just let them trail me out of town."

  "No," Calum said flatly. He turned to Alec, "I‘ll join you in a couple of days. Will you be all right?"

  In other words, could he manage hiking with a human up the mountain rather than running in cat form? Alec grinned and patted Vicki on the head. "We‘ll be fine. She‘s a tad on the short side, but she‘s got heart."

  Her golden-brown eyes shot sparks, and he choked on a laugh. If she‘d been a werecat, he‘d be drawing back a mangled hand about now. After buttoning his heavy coat, he shouldered the pack of emergency supplies and clapped Calum on the shoulder. "Check on Thorson before you come up, would you? He was pretty hard hit."

  "Aye." Calum ran a finger down Vicki‘s cheek and murmured, "Little human, you‘ve shortened my life by several years." He gave Alec a brief smile. "Be safe, you two," he said and headed up the steps.

  As if mesmerized, Vicki stared after him, and Alec grinned. His brother had that effect on females. "Let‘s go, Vixen. This isn‘t an easy climb."

  She turned and looked at the mountain, her big eyes filling with misery. "I brought this mess on you all."

  "True. Of course, Lachlan shouldn‘t have let himself be caught. Or he shouldn‘t have run away in the first place. And Joe should have been more understanding so he wouldn‘t have run away, and—"

  "Okay, okay, I get the point." She hefted her pack and followed him as he took the most direct path upward. "Where is this cabin anyway?"

  He pointed toward the mountaintop. "Straight up there."

  "Oh, God," she said resignedly. "Mountain climbing in a blizzard at night. You cat-people sure know how to show a girl a good time."

  *

  "What do you mean, you lost her?" Vidal scowled and pressed the cell phone closer to his ear.

  "Four of my men walked into that bookstore. None came out. Gotta figure they‘re dead."

  Swane‘s cold voice could barely be heard through the static. "The old fart—the owner of the store—went to the hospital. Cops are saying a man tried to rob the bookstore and escaped after shooting the owner. No mention of Morgan or anyone else. Definitely a cover up."

  Incompetent bastards. Vidal swore under his breath. "Go on."

  "I asked around quietly, and she works at the town tavern, only she‘s using the name Waverly."

  "Check out the bar," Vidal agreed. "Is she at her place?"

  "No. Her house is empty, but her car is still parked there. She‘s not at the tavern either."

  Worse and worse. Morgan would be a fool to return to the town. And they‘d alerted the werecreatures.

  However, their target area was obviously Cold Creek. Dammit. "How could one old man and a woman kill off four men?" Bungling fuckups. Vidal kicked his wastebasket across the room and halted, shocked at his own actions. He never lost control. Ever.

  "I‘m not sure," Swane said. "But I got an idea. I want to grab someone who can tell us about the town. Not a creature—just a person who‘d know what‘s going on. About the shifters…and their families."

  Vidal sat down in his chair. Carefully. "What good would that do?"

  "Leverage, boss." Swane‘s laugh made Vidal‘s skin crawl. "Beastie-boy sure as fuck would‘ve talked if I‘d been skinning pieces off his sister."

  "Do it."

  *

  Fuckin" A. Vic was freezing. She hadn‘t been this cold since a mission in the mountains of Afghanistan. She shivered so hard her bones hurt. But that was good. When a person stopped shivering, death was right behind.

  And she knew some of the shivering was from what she‘d done. She‘d killed. The feeling of shattering bone, the sound of the man choking on his own blood, the blank look of death—she swallowed as nausea rose again. Wiped the tears from her face…again.

  The snow increased the higher they went, sometimes whipping into her face like sand and sometimes falling straight down, piling up so she could no longer see the tree roots and obstacles underneath. She had the bruises to show for it, having flattened her length out on the trail a few times. Grace incarnate, that"s me.

  The sun was gone, the moon wasn‘t up, and even if it was, nothing would penetrate the dark clouds overhead. Her wimpy-ass penlight had died an hour ago.

  Why the hell am I here? She should have stayed in Cold Creek, taken out the backup people, then found Swane and the business
-guy and wiped them out. Then—maybe—she wouldn‘t feel so guilty. Her mouth tightened as she remembered Thorson‘s wound, the blood on the desk, his pain. God, so stupid. Why had she ever tried to escape through his store?

  Too late to do anything now. The bad guys would be long gone. She‘d have to wait for Wells to give her the information on Swane she needed—and then, no matter what, she‘d finish this.

  Wells. Oh fuck. She was due in Washington D.C. She felt like hitting her head against a tree.

  Could her life get any more screwed up?

  "We‘re almost there." Alec‘s voice reached her.

  Oh, sure, and he‘d been saying that for over an hour. That fine body of his had moved steadily up the mountain—never faltering, never tripping, never falling. If she‘d had the energy, she would have planted a boot right where the sun don‘t shine.

  "Ah. There we go," he said.

  Concentrating on the lousy footing, she ran into his stationary figure. "Oomph."

  "Sorry." He pointed to something undistinguishable in the darkness. "We‘re here."

  She squinted. Nothing. "How can you tell?"

  "Cat eyes, baby, cat eyes." Wrapping an arm around her waist, he urged her across a small clearing to a building.

  "There is a god," she breathed, and Alec chuckled.

  "Hold on a minute." He shoved open the door and went in. A lantern flickered alight.

  Taking that as an invite, she pulled the door shut behind her. There was no heat, but the escape from the wind made the place seem almost warm. Teeth chattering, she looked around.

  An authentic, one-room cabin with a fireplace on the far wall, wood and kindling next to it. A rough-hewn table and stump chairs on the left. Pots and pans hung from nails, and dishes were stacked on a rustic shelf. Wooden bins were built into each wall.

  Alec set the lantern on the table and started building a fire. He nodded at the bin. "There‘s blankets and some sleeping pads in the box. Why don‘t you haul them out? Put them here in front of the fireplace."

  Wool blankets, foam pads, quilts. By the time she‘d piled them in the center of the room, the fire blazed with enough heat to make her numbed fingers tingle.

  Alec set a snow-filled pot on the grill, then rummaged through a metal-lined bin filled with canned foods and freeze-dried meals. A few minutes later, they had mugs of hot chocolate.

  "Nice place," Vicki murmured, risking her lips to sip the scalding chocolate. She swallowed and closed her eyes to savor the sensation of heat bursting inside her.

  Alec toasted her with his mug and a smile. "We keep it stocked for emergencies like this, and for shifters who get hurt and can‘t make it back to town."

  He added another log to the fire and settled onto the pile of blankets. "Whoever uses the place reports to Calum, and he sends up whatever is needed to restock it."

  "Carry supplies up that mountain?"

  "That‘s why Herne invented teenagers."

  She snorted a laugh and settled herself in the other blanket pile. The shivers had lessened, and she gazed sleepily around the room. "No windows?"

  He shook his head. "Prevents any telltale glow at night. There‘s enough trees overhead to disperse most of the smoke, and as you saw, getting here isn‘t for the faint of heart."

  "No shit." Two narrow ledges, hopping from stone to stone across creeks. "Were you following a path?"

  "A variety of animal trails. We never use the same one twice, and if one starts looking too obvious, it‘s abandoned for a season or two."

  "How can you tell if someone‘s used a trail recently?"

  He tapped his nose. "People leave a scent."

  "Even in person form, you have cat eyes and noses, huh?" She frowned remembering Jamie tripping over a bottle in the dark parking lot. "Jamie doesn‘t see well at night."

  "Not yet. After her first trawsfur, she will. And as she spends time in animal form, the more she‘ll acquire animal senses." He grinned. "There are theories about why. Personally, I think we get used to seeing at night and using our noses, and our human bodies adjust."

  "Huh." Her eyes drooped, and she jerked her head up as she realized she was nodding.

  Alec took the cup from her hand. "Go ahead and sleep. You‘re safe now, Vixen."

  Safe? The man was out of touch with reality. The world held no safety. As her eyes closed, she felt a blanket being tucked around her.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day, Thorson heard footsteps approaching Calum‘s guest room—well, his room for the moment. He looked up gratefully, needing a diversion from his worries. For once, reading wasn‘t working.

  "You are quite the stubborn bastard, you know," Calum remarked as he pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Why not stay in hospital? You have enough control to not trawsfur when you‘re hurting."

  Thorson marked his place in the book and set it down. "Only way a hospital keeps me is if I‘m unconscious."

  "If I had known what it would take, I would have arranged it," Calum said drily.

  Thorson barked a laugh. "Wouldn‘t put it past you." A gust of wind hurled spatters of snow against the window, and he frowned as worry stewed in his head. The storm that had settled over the mountains yesterday showed no signs of easing. "You think they‘re okay?"

  Calum followed his gaze, mirrored his frown. "Alec is strong." His words were clipped with concern.

  "You‘re worried about something though."

  "About your attackers. Bugger the bastards." Calum rose and paced across the room. "I had the deputy take fingerprints before disposing of the bodies. The prints didn‘t show up in the databases that Alec has, so I sent them to Tynan. His contacts can run the information through the various agencies."

  "Sounds slow."

  "Too slow." Calum steepled his fingers. "Victoria suggested we use her for bait—see if we could draw them in and this time, keep one alive." He frowned at Thorson. "You and Victoria are too efficient at killing."

  Thorson ignored the compliment. "You‘re not going to use a female as bait."

  "No. I refused. So we‘ll keep her safe, and I‘ll wait for Tynan‘s ID and follow it up the line."

  Thorson rubbed a finger across his book‘s leather binding. "This is senseless. If they wanted to kill a witness, they‘d have sent an assassin, not a team to capture her."

  "Aye. But they had Lachlan bite her. They probably expect her to turn into one of us."

  "Maybe we should hand her over and deflate that notion," Thorson said, knowing they‘d do nothing of the sort.

  Calum‘s lips curled into a thin smile. "Indeed. And by handing her over, we might decrease their numbers by a significant amount."

  "There‘s an idea. She‘s a deadly little female, isn‘t she?"

  "What was she doing in your store anyway?" Calum asked, gazing out the window at the falling snow. "I thought she was leaving."

  "Came to say goodbye." A pang shot through Thorson‘s heart as he remembered the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "Seemed to think she was letting Lachlan down. Apparently he‘d told her..." He closed his eyes, searching for her words, “„Tell Grandpa I gifted you...and you"re my gift"”

  Calum spun around. " „Tell Grandpa I gifted you" He said that just before he died?"

  "That‘s what she—" Thorson halted as the words took on a different meaning. He pulled in a shocked breath. "Could the boy have performed the Death Gift?"

  Silence. After a minute, Calum rubbed his face wearily. "She said he got confused at the end and was babbling. But the ritual to an outsider might seem—"

  Thorson finished. "Like the lad was out of his head. Earth, Air, Fire, Water. You think she‘s one of us?"

  "If she is, she‘s hiding it well. The little female appears to have more secrets than a pixie has winter stores. I believe it is time to unearth some of those acorns."

  *

  Vic blinked awake and assessed the situation. No gunfire. No murmur of voices. Soft blankets under her, more piled on top, and only her nose ex
posed. All warm and snuggly. Her muscles ached slightly from the hike, but a good ache, as after a hard P.T.

  And hey, she was still on this earth. There was no feeling like that in the world. Knowing she could have been snuffed out yesterday, but through skill and muscle and courage, she‘d won.

  Yea though I walk through the Valley of Death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the baddest M-F in the valley. She grinned, stretched, the joy of being alive singing in her like a ripple of music, and she wanted to share the song.

  It just happened she knew a really good way to celebrate life...

  Alec lay beside her, stretched out on his back under his own bunch of covers. He‘d obviously tended the fire during the night—a big log burned cheerfully on a pile of glowing coals, and the cabin felt warm enough to slide out from her blankets and under the ones next to her. Alec‘s covers.

  Deeply asleep, he didn‘t move as she snuggled up beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. He‘d discarded his jacket and wore only a flannel shirt. The buttons slipped easily out of the holes. Yeah, he really had a great chest. She ran her fingers over the hard planes, traced out the six-pack ridges of muscle on his abdomen, and followed the thin line of hair down his lower stomach. Halleluiah, he was fully erect and rock-hard.

  "Good morning," she breathed out and tipped her face up to nibble at his chin.

  "Mmmmh." He rolled over, flattening her under him. He smelled absolutely incredible, like the deep forest with a masculine musk all his own. She could probably tell him and Calum apart just by scent. Weird.

  He nuzzled the hollow below her ear and purred his pleasure when she spread her legs to cradle him. "I can smell your arousal," he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. His hand pressed her pussy, and a searing jolt of heat made her hips lift. "I am going to…" He stopped, his muscles tightening under her fingers. "No. I‘m not."

  "What?" She rubbed her breasts against his chest and heard his breathing stop.

  "By Herne, I want you, Vixen," he muttered. He kissed her, long and slow and deep. But then, with a low curse, he pushed himself away and stood up.

  She stared up at him. What had just happened?