Pret Ops: Familiar

by Emma Ray Garrett

  “Natalie, you’re seriously pissing me off,” Stanislov hissed.

  “And that’s different how, General?”

  Joshua noted Nat had pushed the empty plates of her meal aside and was clenching her butter knife, apparently trying to decide whether to stab Rubenesso or not. Better head them off at the pass before they threw down and drew blood. Or something else.

  “Nat, take the case will ya?”

  Natalie jumped slightly at Joshua’s interruption. Nice timing, Black, she thought. She turned her face toward him, her mind grasping for what he’d actually said to her.

  “What? Oh, yeah. Is this the intel?” She took the case from Joshua’s hand and laid it on the table in front of her. Dual soft clicks preceded the unveiling of the contents.

  Photographs lay slightly scattered on the top. Natalie looked over them. It took her about a second to determine they were recon images. Some were black and white satellite shots, others were color, probably high altitude shots, all of places of interest, supposed Veil strongholds, access points and roads, overviews of surrounding landscape. The last of the photos weren’t like the others. They looked like still shots of thermal images.

  “Are these what I think they are?”

  Joshua nodded his head.

  “These heat blooms look like people.” Natalie pushed the case out of the way and laid three of the photos out for Stanislov and Joshua. “But what about these much smaller ones here?” She tapped the tip of her right index finger to the upper left corner of the photo closest to her. “And these larger ones here?” She moved her hand over the other two images.

  The pictures weren’t very clear on where or what they showed. Natalie imagined an obfuscation spell of some sort distorted the photographs, but one thing was clear: there were at least a dozen people in the photos, and four large blooms that could be anything, but registered too hot to be anything good. The bluish color of the larger heat signatures meant beyond melt the flesh from bones hot.

  Nat raised her eyes from the photos to meet Joshua’s. He swallowed the bite in his mouth before answering. “We’re not sure, Nat. The heat reading is too hot to be nuclear. Anti-terrorism thinks they’re magical, but we couldn’t get the sat or spy plane pictures of this to come out. Matt Helion had to run some kind of spell on the thermal gear to get this one.”

  A string of Russian expletives slipped past Stas’s lips and he felt his face flush. He raised his eyes to meet Nat’s and Joshua’s, and realized his reaction had surprised them. Black looked curious, one dark slash of brow arched high. Natalie’s gaze was contemplative. Fighting the urge to tug at his collar and clear his throat, Stas shut down his expression. “Igborski has to be stopped.”

  “Agreed. Everything else you’ve probably already seen. It’s the intel I faxed to you yesterday, Rubenesso. But you two will want to look it over again. You have about two hours before you need to be at Iaroslavskaia station. We’ll want to leave in thirty.”

  Stas nodded. “Is there anything left worth eating?” He cast a sidelong glance at Nat’s pile of dishes, a smart-ass gleam in his lime green eyes.

  Joshua swallowed hard, choking on food going down and laughter coming up. He almost wished he was part of this op; it was gonna be one hell of a show.

  Chapter 6

  “Twenty-six is your train. We got you SV accommodations.”

  SV was the Russian equivalent to first class. Stas and Nat would share a two-bunk berth with locking door. For the umpteenth time in the last twelve hours, Stanislov questioned the fates. Why did Natalie have to be the most powerful healer he knew? Why was she the best Fundamental mage in the Corps? Swallowing a frustrated sigh, he held his hand out to Joshua. “I’m counting on you and your men, Lt. Col. Black.”

  “My team will be standing by, Stas. Just holler when you’re ready. Godspeed.”

  Stas nodded then looked away as Natalie embraced Black. Just seeing her in the other man’s arms twisted his guts with jealousy and made his beast roar in outrage.

  “See you in a few days, Joshua.” Natalie’s voice was soft, a tremor of worry hidden deep in her pitch.

  No matter what went down, Stanislov silently swore she would see Black in a few days.

  “It’s time, Natalie.” Her beautiful face lost the warmth it held for Black when she turned toward Stas. She transferred the backpack in her left hand to her shoulder. The single movement turned her from relaxed if apprehensive into the cold as steel Lt. Col. she showed him ninety-nine percent of the time.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nat pulled her ticket from the back pocket of her jeans and walked toward the train. They’d changed out of BDUs before leaving the base, much to Stas’s chagrin, and approval. The tight fit of the denim across her perfect, heart-shaped ass sent his blood pressure skyrocketing. The pale lavender sweater she wore not only enhanced the soft honey tone of her skin, but emphasized her delectable breasts.

  “Remember what I said, Rubenesso.” Stas whipped his head ’round to meet Black’s gaze. He thinned his lips and nodded. He knew what was at stake.

  * * *

  The SV berth was small, but comfortable. Their train ride was a long one, nearly a day. Natalie wished she spoke better Russian. Though she understood it as well as Stas, wrapping her lips and tongue around the strange words was difficult and she worried she was saying the wrong thing most of the time. And, well, she didn’t want Rubenesso to know she understood the language. It gave her a bit of an advantage, not that she really needed it. Sharing his emotions should have been advantage enough.

  As the train pulled out of the station, she gave a last wave to Joshua. For a few minutes, she was alone in the berth, and she welcomed it. A small laugh escaped her. Well, the gods certainly had a strange sense of humor. Several lines from the movie Casablanca floated through her mind. Best not to think of the close quarters over the next day. Once they arrived in Novosibirsk, Russia’s third largest city, they’d leave the train and rent a car. About a hundred miles north of Tomsk, Stanislov’s plan was to ditch the vehicle and hoof it. Literally.

  The Veil had hideouts all over Russia, from Moscow in the west to Magadan on the Sea of Okhotsk. Most of them were in middle Siberia, a place where the harsh climate kept all but natives away. As an added bonus, the poverty in these areas made paying off local law enforcement all the easier.

  The main Veil laboratory was outside Tomsk. Its position wasn’t coincidental. Both Novosibirsk and Novokuznetsk were major cities with universities affiliated with the Russian Academy of Sciences. They were also on or near major waterways. The Ob River ran through Novosibirsk and a major tributary through Novokuznetsk. The area was also close to the Chinese border, offering a terrorist like Igborski even more opportunities.

  The soft whoosh of the door opening turned Nat’s head from the view outside the window to the one inside the cabin. Stanislov gave her his back as he pulled the door closed behind him and she enjoyed the unique view of dark blue jeans stretched across his phenomenal ass.

  She watched with a parched throat as his arms and shoulders flexed and rippled as he stowed away his bag. Her admiration gave way to an irksome sensation of longing. He turned around abruptly and Natalie ducked her head. The strain between them had become palpable in the conference room back in Wyoming. A knife couldn’t cut through it now; they’d need a pile driver and a half dozen sticks of dynamite to blow free of it.

  Or a good bout of fucking. Natalie would have rolled her eyes at herself, but having an internal argument would be too difficult to accomplish without giving something away on her face. I’ll bitch at you later, she promised her inner she-devil.

  Natalie closed her eyes for a moment before looking at Stas’s face. In the tight quarters, she was expending a tremendous amount of energy keeping his emotions quiet in her mind. She couldn’t do it all the time, but in this instance Nat figured that not knowing what he was feeling would make the trip slightly less exhaustive. Blocking him all the time was impossible; it ate up
all her mental reserves, which was why she only did it as a last resort.

  “So, when we get to Novosi-whatchamacallit, do you still plan to rent a car?” Nat thought it would be better to spend the time with monotonous chatter, iterating the plan ad nauseum, than to waste it avoiding the undercurrents.

  “Novosibirsk. And yes.”

  “And are we going to the other Novo-whatever city as well?”

  He sighed loudly and lifted a brow in her direction. “Novokuznetsk.”

  “Yeah, like I said whatever.”

  Stanislov blinked slowly before looking into her eyes. “We go into the city if the op leads up there. I doubt it will.”

  “Oh?” Natalie tried to tear her eyes away from his, but she couldn’t.

  “It may be easier to be overlooked in the city, but it’s also easier to be tracked. I want to be in the rural areas where a tail is easy to detect and so will Igborski. He understands the pros and cons of metro areas as well, if not better, than we do.”

  “I see.”

  Stas looked away and Natalie almost slumped with relief. The sharp stab of a headache pulsed behind her eyes. In a few more minutes she would have to go to sleep, or stop holding him out. His emotional state was tumultuous and apparently very strong, if her shields were giving out after so short a time. “So, you plan to tell me why you have such a hard on for The Veil? Or do you believe that your past holds nothing in it which might put this op in jeopardy?”

  She didn’t look into his eyes, but he wouldn’t know it. She wasn’t about to fall into them again. And staring at the masculine bridge of his nose allowed her to see his reaction to her questions. She hadn’t missed the slight slackening of his face at the term “hard on” and she definitely didn’t miss the powerful frown creasing his brow now. Nor did she overlook the way his fantastically sexy mouth became a thin line.

  “I told you all you need to know.”

  “Right.” Natalie turned her body to the side and faced toward the window. She watched the passing countryside, not so much different from the American West, until the pain in her skull was nearly crippling.

  “I’m gonna get a little shut eye, General. Wake me if you need me.” Natalie heard his grunt and leaned back on the bunk. If you have any mercy, she silently prayed, you’ll let me sleep for the next twenty or so hours.

  Chapter 7

  Stanislov knew the exact moment Natalie drifted into unconsciousness. Her breathing slowed, lifting her breasts in an even rhythm. Finally, he could relax a little. Perhaps with her asleep, he could tidy up the minute details on this op. Perhaps he could prepare for a snafu, if it came to that. Thinking out all the possible combinations of an engagement was impossible, but predicting the most likely fuck ups to occur was part of his job.

  Stas stood and stretched the kinks from the knotted muscles in his back and neck before grabbing his backpack. He opened the front pouch and took out his PDA. With a soft tap and click, he retrieved the Igborski file and opened it up. He’d read the damn thing a million times, knew what information hadn’t made it in, had the man’s face burned into his memory.

  The empty stare, the cold line of thinned lips, the dark hair receding from a broad brow. The complete lack of conscience or empathy for the people and families he’d destroyed. Igborski cared only about becoming a chimera and the power he’d gain from it. He’d stop at nothing.

  And Igborski had gotten part of his wish. He was a chimera, at least in form, having integrated the DNA of at least three other shifter species into his own. But he couldn’t blend the animals inside so easily and their constant struggle destroyed his mind increasingly each day. Karl had been a broken, megalomaniacal murderer when Stas was a boy. A cold shudder of fear whipped down his spine at what Igborski would be now.

  As Stanislov looked over the intel and the maps that would lead him back into the hell he’d barely escaped as a child, secrets from his past unfurled in his mind. The reason Igborski had taken him, long buried, churned in his gut.

  Everyone knew Stanislov Rubenesso was a were-tiger. The distinct pattern of his hair, the cat’s eyes and sometimes-slitted pupils were clear signs. The huge cat he became during a full shift and the cat-man form he used for battle -- all tiger. But he also carried another beast inside.

  The Rubenesso family was the tiger. But his mother’s side were not tigers, but wolves. Stas rubbed his palms over his eyes and tried to squash the rage, the hatred, and the searing, burning anguish he’d struggled to forget. But the fact that Karl Igborski was his maternal grandfather wasn’t something he could dismiss.

  When his grandfather had found out his only daughter had crossbred, and the child wasn’t mentally deranged, he’d wanted to study the offspring. But Stas’s parents had refused. Outraged, Igborski had killed them and taken young Stas to a private lab. The saddest part of the whole thing was that his mother’s ignorance of her father’s work was the biggest reason she’d died.

  She’d lived with her mother since childhood with only sparse visits from Igborski. And when she finally learned how sick he was, the reason why her mother had left, it was too late to do anything. She’d died as a sacrifice to lunacy, leaving her son in the clutches of a power-hungry maniac.

  Stanislov remembered every detail of the battle over him, how his father had tried to protect his wife and child, but had been sorely out of his depth. He could still hear his mother begging her father to stop, and he heard her cry out her love for her son. It woke him from sleep some nights, those words and the horrible silence which followed them.

  Yes, Stanislov knew how calculating Karl Igborski could be. Facing his grandfather again was inevitable, but his childhood terror of the man hadn’t died over the years. The bitter taste of fear flooded his mouth, but Stas refused to succumb. He didn’t want to sit in this tiny box of a berth and relive the horrible tests and unbelievable pain he’d suffered as a part of Igborski’s obsession with becoming the most powerful being on the planet.

  Kill him. Be free. Both the tiger and the wolf agreed on this.

  Stas couldn’t take the form of a gray wolf, but the animal’s instincts and drives were as embedded in his soul as the feline’s. Despite the amazing differences between the species, his beasts were fully integrated. The wolf’s desire for the safety and support of a pack blended seamlessly with the tiger’s more solitary lifestyle. The two animals’ opposing hunting and attack styles also merged, giving Stanislov everything he’d needed to become a powerful military leader.

  The genetics, though, didn’t explain how or why the two animals didn’t war with each other inside Stas, for every other chimera he’d met suffered from serious mental distress due to an imbalance between his or her multiple beasts. The secret to Stanislov’s sanity was the thing Igborski wanted most and it was what he’d killed his own child to get.

  It was also the one thing Stanislov had wished, long ago, he could give his grandfather, if only to stop the torment. To bring back his parents and, sick though it made him now to think of it, to heal his grandfather. Nat shifted on her bunk and Stanislov dismissed the past. None of it would help him plan for now.

  He watched her sleep again, fascinated. She slept so soundly. It seemed regardless of their less than jovial relationship, she trusted him to protect her.

  Good. Possess her now.

  While it was good that he didn’t suffer a fractured psyche as most chimera did, there were times when Stas wished the two animals didn’t agree so often. His mind, so recently flooded with horrific memories of his past, now filled with images of domination, of possession, of sexual release and pleasure.

  The cat showed him scenes of Natalie fighting him, spitting, hissing, and scratching as any good female feline would. She would surrender only after his body dominated hers, his teeth holding her immobile beneath him. Stas’s blood, so cold mere moments before, heated in a rush and momentarily dizzied him.

  The wolf pumped need through his body, hormones screaming to mount her, mark her, knot himself
inside her and mate with her until all the seed was gone from his body and both of them were exhausted. Stanislov couldn’t help but rub his rock hard cock through his jeans, wanting the release he refused it. His hips surged against his hand.

  A low warning growl filled the cabin. He’d never given in to the animals inside before; he wasn’t about to start now. No matter what his baser selves wanted, Natalie was off limits. The growl shifted to a harrumph as Stas rose to put the backpack away once more. He needed some sleep so he could escape the grumbling of his darker needs.

  * * *

  The wolf nudged the tiger into wakefulness. Together, they scented the female. She was warm, willing, and they intended to have her. Stas’s conscience grumbled but the two crushed it beneath their needs. They were in charge.

  Silently, they slid from the berth, stalking the sleeping woman. They breathed deep, the smell of her skin drawing them closer. With infinite care, the tiger eased the blanket off her body. Natalya. The wolf supplied her name. Mate. A low rumble of pleasure broke the quiet.

  She rolled to her back and they froze. When she’d settled once more, Stas’s animals planned their assault. The barrier of her clothes posed a problem, but the tiger knew how to get around it. He flexed one hand, razor sharp claws springing from his human fingertips. He held himself over her, gently plucking the top away from her skin, slicing through it. She didn’t move. Satisfied she wouldn’t wake, the beasts diligently, smoothly, removed her clothing in the same fashion, cutting through the material. It took a long time, but the beasts were patient. The goal was close, another hour or more was no strain.

  When her body was finally exposed to his gaze, the tiger hissed with predatory intent. Her heart beat hard, unconsciously responding to the sound. The beast shifted the body, fur flowing over flesh, bones lengthening. He laid his ears back against his skull and fought the desire to pounce on the woman, sink his teeth deep, and mate with her hard and fast.

  The canine called him back, and the burning need to conquer the female faded slightly. Images moved through the mind as the wolf showed the cat what to do next. Gently, the tiger eased the female’s legs apart. He pulled his upper body onto the bunk, pressing his face close to the hot, wet center of her. He licked his lips again and the wolf suggested they get rid of the small bit of cloth left between them and their prey.