To live with them? That would be a dream come true.
And then a nightmare if the Scythe found her hiding in Cold Creek. Horrifying images shattered her. The cahirs would be the first to fall—her cahir. Gawain would charge into battle, too. Her friends, the townspeople, everyone would die—or worse. The Scythe would capture some. Put them in cages. Nightmarish memories and fears blurred together until she felt screams building up in her head.
No, no, no. The minute the villagers were free, she had to leave with them. She and her villagers would hide…somewhere…and this town would be safe.
She’d have to stay away from Owen and Gawain until then, or her resolve wouldn’t hold. Because there was nothing she wanted more than to be with them. Forever.
With a determined breath, she wiped her eyes. Be strong. It was her job to ensure that her males—and yes, all of Cold Creek—were safe. “Take care of them for me, Mother of All.”
Chin up, she walked out of the library and across the lodge. She didn’t know where Owen and Gawain had gone, but since neither male had carried a phone on their trip, the Cosantir didn’t yet know they’d located the shifter-soldier camp.
In the dining room, the cahirs were gathered around a table. Like a caged animal, the Cosantir paced back and forth beside the windows. Everyone looked up as she entered.
“Darcy.” Alec’s expression was grim. “Where is Owen?”
The room stank of fear and anger. “What’s happened?”
Alec made an impatient noise.
“Owen and Gawain dropped me off and left. Maybe they went to their house?”
Calum paused in his pacing, glanced at the big grizzly cahir, and tilted his head toward the door. Ben hurried past her, pausing long enough to pat her shoulder gently.
“What’s happened?” Darcy repeated.
Calum looked at her, rage streaming from him. “The Scythe took Victoria.”
The words took a second to penetrate, then stabbed deep. No. Oh, no, no, no. Not Vicki. Dear Mother of All, she was pregnant.
The front door of the lodge opened, and someone strode quickly across to the dining room.
The scent of human reached Darcy, and she growled before recognizing Vicki’s former boss, Wells.
The spymaster stepped past her and spoke to Shay. “The sergeant is missing?”
“Aye.” Shay turned to the Cosantir “Wells is in one of our cabins here—for the cubs’ birth, and I asked him to join us now. We could use his help.”
Visibly struggling for control, Calum was staring at a wall map of Seattle. Without turning, he merely nodded.
Darcy’s hands clenched into fists, hating the Scythe with every drop of her blood.
Joining his brother, Alec leaned against him, silently sharing fears, strength, and support. After a minute, he cleared his throat. “Brawd, can you tell Wells about the note?”
Calum took an audible breath. When he turned, his lean face was icy cold. “A typed note addressed to me was found on the counter in Angie’s Diner. It says they have Victoria, and if I don’t turn myself over to them, they’ll kill her and the baby. A van is waiting for me on Main Street.”
Alec’s low growl was echoed by the cahirs.
“Are you positive she’s been kidnapped?” Wells’s face showed no expression, but his icy blue eyes held murder.
“Yes. They took her, stole her from our town. From us.” Alec’s voice rose, and he slammed his fist down on a table. With a loud crack, the wood split down the middle.
Shay gripped his shoulder. “Easy, a brathair-faoirm.”
Like a furious cat, Alec strode across the room and back…and then said in a controlled voice, “She’d gone to visit Evangeline, an elderly human living on the outskirts. Three male humans captured Vicki there and knocked Evangeline out. She called the minute she woke. I tracked the scents to a car.”
Oh Vicki. Guilt made the whole room darken. I brought this down on them. Was Vicki all right? Pregnant or not, she wouldn’t have surrendered; she’d have fought.
Wells echoed her thought. “I’m surprised the humans survived.”
Alec’s smile was vicious. “From the amount of blood—human blood—on the floor, one didn’t.”
“That’s good to hear. Now…from what Darcy has said about her previous captors, the Scythe don’t bluff. They will kill the sergeant if they don’t get Calum.” Wells leaned forward and flattened his hands on the table. “I’m not Daonain, but it seems unwise to let these power-hungry bastards have a Cosantir.”
As the cahirs nodded, Darcy felt cold sliding into her belly and recognized it as fear.
“It would, indeed, be unwise.” Calum’s gaze was cold. Stark. “However, the God should have enough power, even in a city, to kill me as soon as she is released. They will get nothing—”
“By the God,” Shay shouted. “Don’t even talk like that.”
Zeb growled, low and dark. “Have some faith in your cahirs, Cosantir.”
Reaching out, Alec shook Calum. “Think, brawd.”
The Cosantir hissed at him, then bowed his head and pulled in a breath, visibly trying to overcome the fear for his mate.
Darcy bit her lip. The Scythe knew the value of hostages, especially with the Daonain. A beloved female in danger would drive the calmest shifter to become an unthinking animal.
“Forgive me, cahirs.” Calum’s voice was rough.
Every one of his warriors bowed a head.
Including Zeb who held a phone. “Tynan, we need a location for the female villagers’ prison, right the fuck now.”
The room went silent as the Seattle cop’s voice came through the speakerphone. “You’re in luck. I correlated my info with the Scythe van’s tracker log that Wells sent me. I’m pretty sure I found the property.”
Darcy clasped her hands together, hope rising.
“Odds are they’d take Vicki to that prison.” Alec scowled. “But if we free her and the other captives there, the Scythe will cut their losses and kill the shifter-soldiers. Their location isn’t—”
“We found the forest camp,” Darcy interrupted. “And the males are there. We saw them this morning.”
“It appears we have ourselves a hunt.” Shay ripped the map of the Twin Sisters area off the wall and laid it on a table.
“Two hunts.” Zeb joined him at the table. “We need to attack each place at the same time.”
“Aye.” Calum tapped his fingers on the map. “But how do we get into the Seattle prison and kill the guards before they turn on their hostages.”
Wells spoke up. “I’m not fond of open frontal assaults, especially against anything with concealed machine gun embrasures.”
“Trouble is, getting anyone in from the rear is…difficult.” Alec shook his head. “That blackberry thicket perimeter is damn clever. Only a cat shifter could use the trees to get over it. But fruit tree limbs and two hundred pound cats are a bad combination.”
“By the time we get organized and drive there, it’ll be nearly dark.” Zeb scowled. “If the grounds are floodlighted, even feline eyes can’t compensate enough to see through tree shadows. You won’t be able to see well enough to assess the branches.”
Alec’s shoulder slumped. “Wait until tomorrow? That won’t…”
As the cahirs talked, fear skittered across Darcy’s nerves. They mustn’t postpone an attack. The Scythe wouldn’t permit a delay—they’d push Calum by hurting Vicki and her unborn cubs. But even if Calum turned himself over, they’d never let Vicki go.
Yet Alec was right. Most of the fruit tree branches were too small to support a full-grown male shifter. An experienced shifter might have been able to follow her scent through the trees—but too much time had passed.
A shifter could use her scent to get through the trees now…if she went back in.
Terror wrapped fingers around her body, squeezing the air from her lungs. She couldn’t go back. No.
But Vicki…Vicki was her friend. Had stood up for her against her
mate. “I know this isn’t a democracy, oh guardian of the territory, but I’m all for mercy in this case.”
“I need to show you.” Her voice was not even a whisper.
The cahirs had shifter hearing. And they all turned toward her.
Wells frowned. “Did you say something?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can get back in the same way I got out. And the cat shifters can see well enough—and smell well enough—to follow me in the dark.”
Zeb growled. “No, little female. You’re not going back there.”
Oh, she wanted to agree so, so badly. Tears filled her eyes. “We can’t let them kill Vicki or her babies. And you need me to get in.” She pulled in a shuddering breath.
Zeb studied her with black eyes and then glanced at Alec. “To risk a female is…wrong. But we need her.”
“By the God.” Staring at her, Alec gripped the table. “I don’t want…”
“You must,” she whispered. “For Vicki.”
After a long moment, he nodded. “Aye. We need you.”
There was no sense of victory, not with the paralyzing fear lodged in her bones. Don’t think about returning. Not now. “But what about the shifter-soldiers?” My brothers. “Can we get them out and remove their trackers? The camp has a stockade fence and floodlights. Owen set off an alarm and—”
“Wait.” Alec paced away from them, stared out the window for a moment, and rubbed his hands roughly over his face. When he turned, his expression held only a cold resolve. He walked back and picked up Zeb’s phone. “Tynan, you know about human security systems. Take charge of breaking the shifter-soldiers out. Tonight. Collect what you need, get moving that direction, and we’ll send you help.”
“My brothers and their friends won’t believe anything you say,” Darcy said toward the phone. “They’ll think it’s a Scythe trick. A test.”
“Those Scythe feckers could well make a male suspicious.” Tynan was silent for a second. “Right then. Darcy, did ye wear those clothes I left you and did you re-hang the bag?”
“Yes. And yes.”
“Then I can convince your lads.” He paused. “Alec, were you saying the poor shifters will have to carve the GPS devices from their bodies?”
“Aye. Then and there,” Alec said.
“Right. Consider it done.”
Wells cleared his throat. “How many of the shifters from here will assist in the two attacks?”
Shay answered, “Should be quite a—”
“Not as many as you think,” Calum said.
The cahirs looked at him in surprise.
“Somehow the Scythe learned about me and Victoria. Do they also know Cold Creek has other shifters? We must get the elderly, females, and cubs to safety.”
Tensing, Zeb and Shay turned toward the kitchen and the sounds of Bree cooking. They wouldn’t leave their mate to be taken.
“In that case,” Alec said, “how about those trained shifter-soldiers that Tynan is going after? They could be useful at the Seattle prison.”
“Too far to get them there in time to help,” Zeb said.
Wells frowned. “Not if I can arrange a helicopter.”
Calum nodded. “Do it. The males would want to be part of getting their sisters free.”
“They would,” Tynan said over the phone. “But can they? Cutting out the trackers will leave them bleeding and limping.”
“Send Donal,” Calum told Alec. “He can heal them enough that they can fight.”
Tynan grunted. “You explain it to him, then. My littermate hates patch jobs.”
Alec pulled out his own phone and swiped a number. “Donal, we need you. Meet us at the lodge—and come prepared for a battle out of the territory. You’ll be doing quick and dirty repairs.”
“Out of the territory?” Donal’s sonorous voice came from the speakerphone. “By Herne’s holy prick, where am I to get the energy to heal? Do I look like a Gods-benighted battery? And you want me to—”
When Alec thumbed the speaker off, the cursing faded to an indistinct rumble.
The cahirs…except for Alec…were grinning, and even Darcy felt her lips curving up.
“That’s my tactful brother.” Tynan chuckled. “What’s the location of the forest camp?”
“It’s off Highway 20.” Darcy explained how to get to the stockade from both the road and the mountain meadow.
“Got it. Alec, the females’ prison camp is in the Gatewood area of West Seattle.” Tynan rattled off the address.
Shay bent over the map and circled the spot with a pencil. “If the cats follow Darcy in, they can deal with the machine guns.”
Follow Darcy in. Her stomach was one frozen knot.
“Attack after dark,” Zeb said.
Shay nodded. “If we can kill the floodlights, we’ll have an advantage.”
“Kill the power to the neighborhood,” Wells suggested.
The cahirs nodded agreement.
“How do you want to time the attacks? One first or…” Tynan asked.
“Simultaneous,” Zeb said. “Keep them too busy to think—or harm anyone.”
“Shortly after dark is probably the longest I can stall them.” Calum looked at his cahirs. “I will arrange to surrender myself just before the attack, so they will believe everything is going their way.”
“Why would they wait for you?” Wells asked. “I wouldn’t.”
“They can’t calculate when their note will reach me…which is why we could have this meeting. In a minute, I’ll take my phone into the mountains and call them from there. Once I call, they’ll understand it will take me a while to return to Cold Creek.”
Wells gave a nod of approval. “Nice. They’ll track your phone’s GPS and confirm your location. They won’t do anything to the sergeant until they know you won’t show up. It’ll give us time to—”
“I will show up.”
Zeb growled. “Cosantir, no need to risk yourself. They will be armed and—”
“When I enter the Scythe car in Cold Creek, I will be in the heart of my territory.”
Darcy’s mouth went dry as she saw the power flickering around the Cosantir. And the fury banked in his black, black eyes.
She wouldn’t want to be the Scythe soldiers trapped in a vehicle with the chosen of the God.
“Brawd…” Fear showed in Alec’s green eyes before he sucked in a breath and turned to Darcy. “Darcy, we’ll stop by our place. Vicki’s black sweats will work well for sneaking around—and shifting unexpectedly. You’ll ride with me.”
She rubbed her damp palms on her jeans. “Okay.”
Alec shot Wells a look. “If you ride with me, we can finish planning on the way.”
Wells tilted his head. “Of course. Let me get supplies from my van.”
As Darcy moved toward the door, she saw Alec put a hand on his littermate’s shoulder, and her heart broke for them.
I’ll get her back for you. I will. She blinked hard and walked out onto the porch.
Thank the Gods that Owen and Gawain weren’t here. They wouldn’t be in danger.
And yet, everything inside her wished they would be with her.
*
As Owen and his brother loped back down the mountain trail, he was satisfied with their planning on how to reason with Darcy. The mountain lake had been peaceful, easing his emotions, and letting him think clearly.
Gawain had pointed out that Darcy hadn’t rejected them. She was simply terrified that the Scythe would hurt the people she loved—including him and Gawain.
The thought, true or not, that she loved him was enough to make his heart stutter.
They’d figured out some ways to ease her worries. If all else failed, they’d leave with her, maybe take her into Canada. Zeb, Shay, and Ryder had traveled extensively before settling in Cold Creek, and they’d know safe places. Most territories would be delighted to welcome a blademage, a tinker, and a cahir.
Regret nagged at him as he ran. He loved the Cascade
s. Loved this territory. Loved Cold Creek. Few Cosantirs were as evenhanded—or as powerful—as Calum.
Fucking Scythe. By the God, he really wanted to shred the weasels into bloody tatters of skin and flesh. Growling, he leaped a log and increased his speed.
With an annoyed chuff, Gawain kept up.
They wouldn’t get to see Bonnie’s cublings grow up. That hurt. Well, maybe someday he and his tiny family could return and…Owen almost stumbled. Maybe they’d be bringing back cubs of their own.
Behind him, Gawain hissed. He’d scented something or someone.
Owen slowed and smelled a bear even as he spotted it. Coming fast. Huge. A grizzly.
Ben.
Gawain moved forward to trot beside Owen as they met the cahir.
Ben trawsfurred without coming to a complete halt. “Need you now, cahir, at the lodge.” His Texas accent was thick in the gasped words. “The Scythe has Vicki. They want to trade her for the Cosantir.”
Vicki. The unborn cubs. The Cosantir. Fury blasted through Owen, and he snarled, his paw lifting, claws out.
Ben jerked his head. “Go.”
Owen took off, running down the trail, Gawain right behind him.
*
If your officer’s dead and the sergeants look white,
Remember it’s ruin to run from a fight;
So take open order, lie down and sit tight,
And wait for supports like a soldier.
Wait, wait, wait like a soldier…
This was proving to be a thoroughly fucked-up day—and reciting Kipling wasn’t helping. Vic snorted. Wait for supports? She despised waiting for backup and always had.
Sitting on the floor behind a bolted-down metal bed, Vicki scowled at her cell. For fuck’s sake, she was tired of being dumped in windowless basements. A recessed space held a tankless toilet. There was no other furniture. The bed’s blanket and sheet were now on the floor with her.
She leaned her forehead on the mattress. God, but she hurt like hell.
When they’d arrived at Darcy’s prison, the asshole beside her in the backseat had jumped out to talk to the gatehouse guard. Vic’d slid out and dashed for the gate. As her pursuers caught up, she’d deliberately fallen, and due to her I’m-a-bowling-ball shape, she’d landed hard and collected some ugly scrapes. Being backhanded by the pissed-off guard hurt worse.
Leap of the Lion Page 30
