by PJ Schnyder
Her inexperience as a shapeshifter became her best hope—the thing would have trouble anticipating her behavior. And so, she acted like a human instead of a shapeshifter. She didn't know how to muddle her trail or hide her scent. Instead, she moved quickly through the trees, weaving as if navigating heavy traffic and congested pedestrian causeways. She made unexpected turns, doubled back on her path and turned again. Her mind overlaid the forest trails with remembered commute paths, keeping the hunter behind her and putting as much distance between them as possible.
Somehow, she sensed the hunter on her trail anyway.
Bastard. Get caught in a tree or something. Have a break down. Freaking get bent!
Her endurance flagged and she wouldn't be able to keep running forever. She chose a large tree and climbed, focusing on a thick branch several levels up. Hooking her claws into the bark for stability, she hid as best she could in the cover of leaves.
Adam, come find me. Please find me.
Everything fell quiet around her. Bleak thoughts tumbled/crowded her mind as she wondered if she’d be killed or captured. She figured she held little value for the study of shapeshifter behavior. Perhaps if she was taken, she could provide them with as much false, inaccurate information as possible.
I could buy the pride time, give them an edge. Give Adam a chance to survive against these things…without me.
She clamped down on her last thought, regretting it immediately. Suddenly, every memory of her time with Adam stood out in sharp relief against her memories. Too few and too late to tell him how much she needed him.
The sound came then, of concentrated air being moved through a small engine. The scent of metal and plastic stung her nostrils, and she flattened herself against the tree branch.
At first the hunter passed her by, she heard him move off to her left a fair distance. Then her luck ran out. The steady hum returned, closing in on her hiding place.
Maybe she could pounce on the hunter as it passed under her. But her luck remained the worst possible. She heard him hover closer, and overhead.
Killed or captured, never to be seen again, Adam had told her. If killed, victims were taken as trophies. If captured, victims disappeared and used in study, which neither the shapeshifters nor the humans had been able to gain more information.
The noise came too close. Mackenzie pondered breaking her cover and attempting to run again. Before she could move, a sharp pain stung her shoulder. In seconds, her body convulsed uncontrollably, and indescribable agony shot through her.
She fell.
The impact with the forest floor barely registered as her body convulsed further. At the outer edge of her peripheral vision, she saw the strange form landing next to her.
A tinny, disembodied voice issued from a speaker on the humanoid hunter's helmet.
“Specimen captured.”
A pause and the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started, but her body refused to obey her commands.
“Specimen is Puma concolor coryi, female, of above-average size. Inconsistent with species of feline found in local environment. Irregularity is of note.”
Heavy, mechanical footsteps approached as she desperately tried to get her body to respond.
Since her body wouldn't move, her mind worked furiously. The hunter obviously spoke in an understandable language, as Adam had mentioned. Its communication technology must be something a knowledgeable tech could hack if they could determine the frequency type. No way a hunter of alien origin could have evolved so closely to human and shapeshifter history that even language would match. There had to be some ancestry between the hunters and the humans and shapeshifters of Mackenzie's world.
As if reading her mind, the hunter squatted until the faceplate came into her line of sight.
“Does the subject comprehend? Blink twice to indicate affirmative.”
She considered whether she should play dumb.
“If subject does not comprehend, subject will be considered to have no value and will be terminated.”
Well then, playing dumb wasn’t an option. She blinked twice, finding she had at least that much control.
“Current hypothesis, subject is visiting the local feline population. Is this hypothesis correct?”
Sort of. Mackenzie decided to blink twice. She wouldn’t give more information than necessary but obviously she couldn't elaborate even if prompted. She couldn't shift and couldn't speak in cat form.
"Hypothesis confirmed. Situation as expected. Subject is the specimen targeted by the one known as Van. Communication from Van has lapsed."
Van? Van had been working with the hunter to find her. It explained how he’d evaded the pride's patrols. Frustration burned in her. She had no way to get the information back to the pride, especially if she died.
Not a cheerful thought.
"Is the specimen known as Van terminated?"
Mackenzie blinked twice. And good riddance.
"Acknowledged."
She felt a pinch against her pelt and realized the hunter had taken samples of blood and tissue.
“Analysis indicates virus is newly established in nuclei of subject cell tissue. Is subject newly mutated?”
Mackenzie didn't know what else to do, so she blinked twice, answering truthfully.
The hunter stood, lifting a gloved hand to the side of its helmet and speaking into the air again. Mackenzie figured it must be communicating with someone other than herself.
“Hypothesis is confirmed. Data indicates subjects referred to as shapeshifters are still able to transfer virus to mutate original human stock.”
Another pause, but Mackenzie sensed a change nearby and hope flared.
“Affirmative. Blood and tissues obtained.”
Soon. Mackenzie closed her eyes. Help neared, a raging force silently approaching.
“Affirmative. Current subject is of no further scientific value and will be considered trophy creditable upon termination. IMCL-6002 transmission terminating.”
The hunter moved back into Mackenzie's line of sight. He trained a sleek weapon on her, shaped like a gun but made of colored metal with two prongs at the end of the barrel. She ceased to struggle and watched without fear. She had faith.
“Subject does not experience elevated heart rate. Termination is not a trigger for fear?”
Mackenzie stared at the hunter without blinking.
A black shadow streaked out of cover, slamming into the hunter’s arm, making him drop the weapon and stumble. Adam stood over her in panther form, shielding her with his body, his menacing growl enough to make his opponent back away another step as it drew a second weapon. With the strange gun trained on Adam, her heart finally jumped and clenched in fear. The hunter could as easily shoot him as he had her, but she couldn’t move.
In that one moment, she placed her trust in Adam to protect her, body and soul, woman and cat.
A split second later, death, cloaked in a gold and black pelt, came for the hunter. Marcus landed on the hunter's back, slamming the hunter down to the ground under the weight of his impressive size. A helmet rolled into her view and a voice cried out without the aid of a microphone. Somehow, it sounded much more human as it died.
Chapter 16
“If we could avoid trouble two whole days in a row, maybe we'd have a chance to decide.”
Orson grunted in response to Marcus' wry comment as the Conservation representative watched Mackenzie walk hand in hand with Adam into the forest.
The girl still moved slightly stilted as she continued to recover from the odd taser weapon used by the hunter. Her paralysis had begun to wear off shortly after she had been brought to Chryssa for care, but full recovery would take an extended time.
Marcus continued his assessment. “She's shifted a couple of times in the last day or so, to help her heal. She can do it at will, without help at this point.”
“No signs of insanity?” Orson remained impassive.
“None.” Marcus kept his tone neutral. �
�Her scent is clean.”
After a brief silence, Orson commented. “She provided valuable intel on debrief.”
“Yes. She held it together under pressure. If she was going to go mad, it would have been then.”
“She places trust in your Sentinel, and you.”
Marcus shrugged. “She's put her life on the line for the pride. She led the hunter away from two juveniles and a group of kits. She had to know she had no chance to evade the danger.”
“Mackenzie will be added to the registry for your pride in Conservation records.”
Marcus nodded. The alpha didn't waste unnecessary words, satisfied with the assurance of Mackenzie’s safety.
“We've gained a lot of data from the remains of the equipment on the hunter. It's too bad most of it self-destructed after he died. What samples we obtained on blood and tissue will be analyzed, but the scientists say the explosion might have damaged the samples. They'll study what they can.” Orson didn't question killing the hunter before there had been any chance of an interrogation. Shapeshifters were passionate beings, and the pride placed no blame on the alpha for eliminating a danger to one of his own. “You and your people are lucky the self-destruct had limited damage radius.”
“Two attacks in my territory, at this point.” Marcus brooded over the obvious implication. They would be seeing more hunters in the future.
“No casualties.” Orson countered. “It could be worse. Several non-predatory herds have suffered casualties from hunters all over the northern continent. Human law enforcement has shared several case files likely to be hunter strikes in the cities.”
Marcus flexed his claws. “This pride will be ready if they decide to hunt in our territory again.” He paused, then added, “You have several of our Enforcers assigned to help investigate the cases in the human cities. Any leads for them?”
“Perhaps one. I will keep you posted.”
“The Sentinels have decided on a new nickname for you.”
Adam watched as Mackenzie paused, stooping to pick a few leaves of mint before continuing with him on their easy walkies through the forest.
“Big Mac entertained us for a while.” He shrugged. “But only when Mack was around. It doesn't really fit you.”
“Okay,” She said slowly.
He grinned, making her wait for his punch line. “You don't want to guess?”
“You don't want to be nice and tell me?” She batted her lashes up at him as she leaned forward, squeezing her upper arms together against her sides a little, enough to enhance her cleavage.
His eyes dropped to the neckline of her shirt. “Bribery works every time.”
“Oh good, otherwise, I might have had to resort to treachery.”
He cleared his throat and adjusted his pants, and not surreptitiously. “They've decided to start calling you 'Trouble'.”
“Aw, hey.” She stopped in her tracks immediately. “It's been a whole day since anything happened anyone could even remotely trace back to me.”
He shook his head. “Not true. Liam and Cal are close buddies now, because of their thwarted rivalry over you. They're causing all sorts of havoc. The Sentinels have decided it's your fault since the damage from them before you came along was limited to simple pissing contests and teenage romantic conquests. They've developed a taste for older women, now.”
She stepped right up to him. “Look, I made it clear from the beginning, I had no interest.”
He wrapped his arms around her, grinning as she fussed in his arms. Oh, but he loved her fiery personality, full of light and tempered by enough shadow for her to embrace his without fear. “Only no interest?”
“Obviously, I seem to have your name stamped all over me, so it's not like the field is clear for anyone, anyway.” Her matter-of-fact tone came across without hesitation and maybe even a little bit cheerful.
“Heh, there’s an idea.” Adam rested his chin on her forehead. “Besides scent, we could always look into a tattoo for you.”
“Yeah, no. Let's not.”
He cupped her face in his hands, pausing to drink in the sweet purity before bending to kiss her. He took his time brushing his mouth over hers, smiling as she nipped him impatiently. When he pressed his lips firmly against hers, she gave him entrance and he tasted the honey and spice of her.
Heat ignited between them and a rumble rose up from his chest as her hands reached up around his neck and buried themselves in his hair. He freed her, smiling as she gasped. Following the line of her neck, he left a searing string of kisses across her skin before he bit gently against the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.
“Maybe one tattoo,” she whispered, nipping his ear.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her enough to carry her off the path and into a little sheltered grove. “Where?”
She smiled at him with heavy lidded eyes. “Somewhere only you'd ever see.”
His cat purred in approval, obviously liking that idea. His hands wandered over her body, caressing and gently squeezing over her behind, making her lean into him. The soft promise of her breasts pressed against his chest made him hungry. “Narrows down the choices. Let's see.”
He kissed her deeply, until her knees began to give way, exploring her sweet mouth and caressing her tongue with his as his hands continued their proprietary exploration. As her knees buckled, he caught her weight and settled her on the fragrant carpet of clover covering the floor of the little hideaway.
“There's here.” He nuzzled the deep crease of her cleavage. He lifted her shirt off, trailing his fingertips across the honey bronze of her skin. He didn't wait to take off her bra, instead freeing her breasts from the constricting cups and tickling the delicate skin with the rough stubble across his chin. He liked the way the bra still held them, perfectly presented for his enjoyment. He bent to nuzzle the curve under each full breast.
She squealed quietly. “Remember someone has to actually draw the tattoo there.”
He growled. “No one touches you there.” He grasped the other breast, gripping it just enough to elicit a groan from her.
She kissed his neck, licking the small hollow above his chest. “Unless you know how to make lasting tattoos, we might be out of luck then.”
He bent to take a pink nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue until it tightened, then sucked firmly. He eased the grip of his hand, cupping her other breast, brushing teasing circles over the generous handful.
She tugged at his light T-shirt. He chuckled against her breast, lightly grazing his teeth against her nipple. The sound of ripping fabric rent the air and he realized she'd torn it in her impatience.
“Would you trust me to put a needle to your skin?” Said lightly, his voice husky. It would take more time for her to heal from the wounds on her soul left behind by Van, but every act of trust became another victory.
She stilled beneath him and he prepared to lift himself off of her, not willing to press her if she still needed space. But those little hands spread across his back, holding him close. She buried her face in his bare chest, rubbing her cheek against the light dusting of hair. “Maybe not a needle.”
He waited, his cat hunting still.
“But you said a mating would leave a mark, and it wouldn't fade.”
Joy burst across him, and Adam suddenly breathed free. His heart hammered, threatening to burst from his chest.
“Are you sure, Kitten?”
She nodded against his chest, and then she lifted her face and offered her mouth again, her plump lips slightly parted. He kissed her, drinking in the sheer vitality of the delicate girl in his arms with so much strength hidden beneath the surface.
The kiss went on, long and lingering, a dance between the two of them. When it ended, he raised himself up on his elbows, leaning over her.
“Freely chosen, right?” When she nodded, Adam used a claw to open a cut over his heart. He let his blood run and touched his claw to her chest, above the swell of her breast ov
er her own heart.
She looked up at him with absolute trust, no fear. “Freely chosen.”
He touched his claw to her then, carefully parting her silken skin. He caught the drops of blood with his tongue, sucking gently at the rich copper taste. Gently, so gently, he nipped her, taking a tiny bit of flesh.
“Forever?”
“All the time in the world. Forever and ever,” she whispered. He watched her solemnly as she repeated his actions, taking a taste of his blood and a bit of flesh. She looked up at him then, eyes bright with the power flowing between the two of them, shapeshifter power. “You promised.”
He nodded. “Once I take you, there won't be anyone else.”
“I don't want anyone else.”
They sealed the mating with a kiss. This one held a deep urgency, and he didn't wait longer to meet their mutual need. In a few heartbeats, their clothes had been tossed aside and they lay skin to skin, along the lengths of their bodies.
He kissed his way down to the sweet heat between her legs, pausing to let a hot breath puff over the skin of her outer lips. The scent of her arousal rushed over him, heady and intoxicating. He dipped his head and let his tongue dart, his hands shifting to hold her hips as she jerked and cried out.
In a swift move, he gripped her thighs and pressed them up and apart giving himself unrestricted access to her deep rose folds. He feasted then, licking and suckling as she writhed in his grip. He grinned as he nibbled and probed every sensitive fold. He looked up the length of her body as he made her dance, watching the rise and fall of her full breasts. Massaging her thighs as he held them, he ran his tongue in firm, long strokes until she called out an inarticulate plea.
Damn, but he loved the sound of her arousal.
Still grinning, he darted his tongue into her entrance in a wicked tease and then nibbled his way up to the tiny hooded center of her pleasure. He used the tip of his tongue to circle her clitoris with firm pressure.
She began to arch her back, tense and full of need. Her thighs jerked under his hands and he could see her stomach flatten as she neared climax.
