by Knight, Gwen
His grin widened.
He could see the headlines now. Senator’s Daughter a Shifter, Massacres Entire Family. That would get people talking, wondering how safe they were in their own homes if the senator hadn’t even known his daughter was one of them. Maybe their neighbor was one too, or hell, their local librarian. Nowhere was safe, and he would prove that to everyone.
Maybe then, the damn government would realize how dangerous these beasts were. Maybe then, they would start taking the proper precautions and incarcerate these things.
Shifters were not humans. They did not deserve the same rights as mankind. He would ensure the world saw that truth.
A sharp chirp rang in his pocket. Luis fished out his sat phone and accepted the call.
“Is it done?” A gruff voice carried over the slight crackle of static.
“Affirmative.”
“Good. And the werewolf?”
Luis eyed the trees for movement. “He has her.”
“Excellent. Proceed with the rest of the plan.”
“Consider it done.” Luis cocked his head and grinned. “Oh, and Congressman?”
The voice on the line hummed an inattentive affirmation.
“You’re doing the right thing, making sure people understand how dangerous these things are.”
“I know. Do not disappoint me.”
The call disconnected without another word. Luis stared at the phone, unable to mask his damn giddiness. After years of fighting alongside one of these animals, finally, the world would start to see the truth. Just as he had the second he’d learned of Sterling Fischer’s origins. Why the military had taken such a risk baffled him. That was the moment he’d realized he wasn’t meant to follow. He was meant to lead. But he couldn’t lead properly and obey the higher command. Not when they were so absurdly wrong.
But it didn’t matter anymore. He’d taken his discharge and set out to reveal the truth to the world. Now, he just needed to watch as their plan was set in motion.
5
Harley settled against the nearest tree and closed his eyes. He needed a moment to collect himself, and he couldn’t do that while staring at Jasmine. Just the sight of her riled his wolf. It’d always been that way between them, but this time it was worse. Seeing her so weak and damaged woke every protective instinct within him. If he could kill those bastards all over again, he sure as hell would. Again and again until his beast was finally soothed.
Currently, she rested on a pile of leaves he’d gathered. He’d damn near suffered a coronary the second she’d collapsed. That last bullet had come so close he’d felt the dislodged air brush against his cheek. What if it’d hit her? It’d taken a full examination of her lithe body to realize her ailment was malnutrition. Her body had simply shut down, unable to handle the flood of adrenaline and exhaustion. And thanks to the shadows darkening the underside of her eyes and the raw welt festering across her neck, she hardly looked like the woman he remembered.
She was still as beautiful as ever, though. At least, she was to him. She could be covered in garbage and he’d still think her beautiful.
Quiet footsteps approached. Harley’s eyes snapped open, his gaze darting in the direction of the movement. He’d been tracking the team’s progress for the past ten minutes as they marched through the jungle. It’d taken them a while to locate him, thanks to the thick blanket of darkness, but Wells had proven he wasn’t entirely incompetent. He’d managed to find Harley, after all.
“So?” Harley called out, his voice like a heat-seeking missile. They altered their trajectory and made a beeline straight toward camp.
“Five dead,” Wells responded.
Harley sighed. Five wasn’t near enough. He’d killed three on his way in. Which meant Wells and his team had only managed another two. According to Jasmine, that left four or five left alive. Not the best success rate for a fancy-schmancy merc team.
“And the sniper?”
The warm air took on an edge of anxiety, and Harley listened as the other men fidgeted in their boots. That told him everything he needed to know. The sniper had escaped. Just fuckin’ great. He should have gone after the asshole. Should have ripped off his head and stuck it on a pike if only to warn off anyone else with designs on Jasmine. Instead, he’d chosen to protect her, placing his trust in the supposedly “best” men money could buy.
Well, Pierce deserved a refund.
They needed a plan. One that got them all the hell out of Dodge. In the meantime, he needed to rein in his wolf. Just because the damn beast wanted to snap every bone in the sniper’s body didn’t mean he’d get the chance. Jasmine’s safety and extraction superseded any murderous desires he harbored.
Turning his attention to Carlisle, Harley gestured toward the canvas sack slung over the man’s shoulder. “My bag, please.”
Thankfully, it was too dark for the humans to notice him sitting buck-ass naked in a pile of fallen leaves. In his experience, humans didn’t handle that sort of thing well, whereas werewolves didn’t care a lick about nudity. It sort of went hand in hand with being a shifter. It wasn’t like they could shift clothed. Their animal forms were far too large for that.
At first, he’d considered shifting back into a wolf until they arrived, if only to keep Jasmine warm, but the damn animal was far too unsettled. He’d thought rescuing her would be enough, but his wolf clearly had other plans. And right now, those plans consisted of claiming Jasmine as his own. No one would mess with a werewolf’s mate.
But that would never happen. Jasmine had long since proven that. So, it was up to Harley to keep his wolf restrained.
Carlisle shrugged the dark bag off his shoulder and tossed it across the camp.
Harley caught it one-handed and rifled through his belongings, picking out his clothes from earlier. Once dressed, he armed himself with an entire arsenal of weapons. He refused to be caught unaware. It wasn’t until his shoulder harness hung snug against his sides and his sheathed bowie knife was hugging his calf that he started to feel a semblance of control returning.
Jasmine’s kidnappers were human. Which gave him one hell of a leg up. And even if they were armed, their bullets wouldn’t kill him. Sure, they’d hurt, but unless they were carrying silver, he was generally safe.
Harley fished through his bag and pulled out a smaller container filled with supplies. Food, water, and iodine tablets—everything a growing werewolf needed. Twisting off the water bottle’s cap, Harley eased down next to Jasmine and tipped her head back before pouring a few drops down her throat. At first, the water spilled over her unresponsive lips, but after a quick beat, her throat started to work and she swallowed a few mouthfuls. Good. She needed to hydrate. But they had to take it slow as not to upset her stomach. She was dehydrated enough without spewing out whatever she had left inside.
“How is she?” Wells asked.
“Exhausted,” Harley confirmed. “She needs to sleep. She’ll feel better after a few hours and a good meal.”
Wells strode toward them, a nest of twigs snapping beneath his combat boots. “We can’t just sit here. Our rendezvous point is a good day’s hike from here. We need to get moving right the hell now if we’re going to make it in time.”
Harley pivoted on his heel to glare at Wells. There were so many things wrong with that statement, he didn’t even know where to begin. To start, it would be nearly impossible to transport an unconscious woman through the jungle, especially at night. Unfamiliar terrain plus trained snipers equaled problematic. Second, there was the faint whiff of jaguar shifter he kept picking up. One, maybe two. It was too hard to tell with how weak the scent was. But there was certainly a feline shifter out there, watching.
“Look, Fulton—”
“If you want to go tearing off into the jungle at night, by all means, don’t let me stop you. But you’re doing it alone. We wait till morning.”
“That’s a massive waste of time.”
Harley lifted a brow. “Better that than getting ourselves lo
st in the dark or stumbling into a hunter’s trap, or hell, getting eaten by something bigger than you.”
“You’re a damn werewolf,” Wells snapped. “You’re telling me you can’t navigate us safely out of here?”
Oh, he could. Easily. But not while carrying and caring for Jasmine. One had to take priority. Three guesses which that would be.
“I get it. She’s in rough shape. But her father is paying us to get her ass back stateside. Jones and Richards are waiting for us back in San Quintín with the bus. If we miss the rendezvous time—”
“Then we miss it!” Harley shouted. The sound of his voice echoing through the trees reminded him they weren’t in safe territory. Eyes closed, he drew in a deep breath and counted to ten before continuing. “Jones and Richards aren’t going anywhere. And even if they did leave, we can secure another vehicle. The senator wants his daughter back safe and sound. Right now, she’s neither.”
Wells cursed under his breath, then spun on his heel and stalked off into the trees. If he expected his team to follow suit, he thought wrong. From the looks on their faces, each and every one of them agreed with Harley, and no one seemed inclined to follow Wells into the darkness.
After a few terse moments, Carlisle crouched next to Jasmine. “What do you need from us?”
“Nothing right now. She just needs rest. When she wakes, we’ll give her a nip of food and see how she’s feeling afterward. Once she’s feeling well enough, we’ll begin the trek back.”
Carlisle nodded then eased onto his backside with a long sigh. His gaze moved around the camp, jumping from tree to tree. “There’s something out there, isn’t there?”
Well, at least someone on the team had a brain. Truth be told, the sniper was the least of their concerns right now. Sniping in this sort of terrain was far from easy, the thick foliage being a benefit in their favor.
“Other than the sniper, I mean,” Carlisle continued. “I can feel it, like something’s out there watching me.”
Harley nodded, his own gaze straying beyond camp.
“Is it bad?”
“Bad enough,” he confirmed.
“Are we safe here?”
Harley chuckled and shrugged. There was no such thing as safe out here. If the sniper or the jaguar-shifters didn’t find them, there was still the wildlife to contend with. During the flight, he’d read up on all the possible dangers, his least favorite taking the form of a disgusting snake. Werewolf or not, he hated the slithering creatures, and the Fer-de-lance sounded like it was one of the worst. But then there were the natural jaguars and all the other snakes and critters that went bump in the night.
“Get some sleep,” Harley suggested, ignoring the question. “I’ll take first watch. And don’t worry—I’ll wake you before I let anything eat you.”
Carlisle chuckled. “Thanks, I think.”
* * *
Harley snapped to attention the instant he heard rustling in the camp. Wells had returned hours ago, grumbling under his breath about men who thought with their dicks, before bunking down near Carlisle. Everyone else had quickly followed suit and the camp had fallen quiet.
Until now.
The sound of movement drew his focus to Jasmine. She hadn’t stirred once since collapsing, but now he could see her stretching against the leaves.
Harley pushed off his tree and knelt next to her. “Hey there, kiddo.”
Her eyes flew open, and she sucked in a startled gasp.
“Shh, it’s all right.” He instinctively grabbed her hands in an attempt to calm her. But damn it, he shouldn’t have touched her. Touching her reminded him of memories long forgotten, ones he refused to dredge up.
“Harley,” she wheezed. She wrenched a hand free and clutched at her chest. “Sorry, you startled me.”
“No need to apologize.”
Her hands rose to her head, her fingers rubbing her temples. “I’d actually forgotten about this for a moment there. Thought maybe it’d all been a bad dream. Then I saw you….”
He nodded. “I am a thing of nightmares, sure.”
“No! That’s not what I meant. I just—”
Harley grinned. “I was teasing you.”
She stared at him for a brief moment before a breathy laugh slipped past her lips. “Right. Always with the jokes. I think I forgot that about you.”
“Ouch!” Harley clutched at his own chest. “And here I thought I was unforgettable.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
No, he didn’t, actually. For all he knew, she’d put him entirely out of mind. And why wouldn’t she? She’d used him for all he was worth, then chucked him aside the second Daddy offered her a better deal. He had to remember that. Remember that she was far from the charming little princess the media painted her as. She was as cold and cruel as her father. The apple certainly hadn’t fallen far from the tree with this one. Yes, he’d rescued her, but that was as far as it went. There would be no startling confessions of love, no apologies, and certainly no forgiveness. He’d long since learned his lesson. Trust no one. One-night stands were the only way to go. Easy and without emotion. Just a good time, and then move on in the morning.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice returning to all business.
“All right, I suppose. Weak. Tired. Hungry. Please tell me you have some food on you.”
Harley dragged his pack over and rustled up some grub. He handed her a bag of beef jerky and a bottle of water. “Take it slow. If you overindulge, you’ll make yourself sick.”
“Joy.” She dove into the bag and started nibbling on a piece of dried meat.
With every swallow, she flicked him a glance, her mouth pursed as she chewed. Harley had expected this. Jasmine had always been the inquisitive sort. She’d wanted to know everything possible about being a shifter when they first met. It was the first thing he’d loved about her. She never shied away from the hard questions, but always knew when to stop pushing, when something had become too personal.
“Out with it already,” he muttered.
She barely waited to take a breath. “What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you, obviously.”
“That’s not what I mean.” She took another small bite. “I mean why you.”
Harley bit his lip to keep from saying the first thing that came to mind. He had to keep things professional. He couldn’t admit that he still had feelings for her, that he would always have feelings for her. Long ago, he’d confessed she was his mate, so she was aware, but he refused to remind her of that painful little tidbit.
“Your father sought me out and offered me a hell of a lot of money to rescue you.”
The instant the words left his mouth, her gaze turned cold. “Right. Well, that makes sense.” She glanced around the camp. “And them?”
“Other mercs he hired.”
Her brow shot upward. “You’re a merc now?”
“Hardly. Your father put this team together and then approached me.”
“But why?”
He shrugged. “Because he knows what I am. And having a werewolf in your pocket isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
Jasmine clenched her jaw and nodded. “Guess so.”
Hmm, not the reaction he’d expected. She seemed almost upset by his answer. What more had she wanted? Him to confess his undying love? That he’d never stopped thinking about her? That his wolf mourned her loss like she’d died? All of that was true, but no way in hell he’d admit it aloud. She’d caused enough damage in his life. He really didn’t need to go through all that again.
She rifled through the package and drew out another piece of jerky. If she kept this all down for the next hour, he’d offer her something a little more substantial. But so far, things were looking good. With every swallow, a little more color returned to her cheeks. It would take a while for her wounds to heal, but he could at least feed her up a little.
“Where are we?” she finally asked.
A tiny wrinkle creased her brow. “That’s southern Mexico, isn’t it?”
Harley nodded. “Right on the Guatemalan border.”
“Why would they bring me here?”
Harley shook his head. He honestly hadn’t a clue. There were a hell of a lot of other places they could have gone. All equally remote.
“Listen, I need to ask you a few questions,” he said.
She nodded and squared her shoulders, bracing herself. “Figured as much.”
There was the woman he remembered. The one he’d fallen in love with the second he laid eyes on her. Physically, she’d always been a tiny thing. But he’d never met anyone stronger. It’d been the intelligence lurking behind her eyes that first caught his attention. And then her mouth. And not for what it could do to him, but for what it often did to others. He’d once watched her strip a politician bare when he claimed shifters weren’t worthy of rights.
“Well?” she asked with a half-smile.
“Right. What can you tell me about the men involved in this operation?”
She blinked, her stunned expression almost priceless. “That’s what you want to ask about?”
“Um… yes?”
She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
Harley blinked. What was he supposed to ask her? Their situation sort of took precedence above any personal matters lingering between them. Besides, who wanted to poke at those issues? Why bother? Their relationship was done, finito, kaputz. What was the point of dredging up ancient history?
She raked her hands through her mussed hair and blew out a breath. “There were nine of them, I think. But they kept interchanging, as much as I saw. They kept me pretty well drugged throughout all of it.”
Harley’s blood instantly set to a boil.
“I only know two of their names. Lopez and Luis.”
Okay, that was something he could work with. “Let’s start with Lopez. Can you describe him?”
