Cry of the Pride

by Lacey Thorn

  She’d become so adept at it that she sometimes caught stuff in her peripheral. It was what made her so good at her job. She didn’t catch everything, especially with those who often spoke with their heads pointed down or away. It was as if her eyes were making up for what her ears lacked. At least, that was how she’d always seen it. So how was it that this man, this stranger, had filled her mind with his voice, urging her to come to him? She pictured him. Tall and broad, though not as big as her male, with shoulder-length hair with shades of brown, blond and red through it. He’d been focused on something else at first, something he’d held. Then he’d glanced up, and she’d swear he’d looked right at her.

  She pictured him in her head, placing him beside her male. She mentally shook her head. Not her male. The other male. The one she was certain Blane had referred to as the Costas mongrel. He had ebony hair, much darker than her own deep-brown locks. She couldn’t recall the color of his eyes, but she’d been mesmerized by his gaze.

  When she had both males at the forefront of her mind, she tried sending a message back to them. She pictured where she’d been in the alley, pictured the sign of the bar then she focused on the room around her again. Searching for anything that might give an indication of where she was. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, so there was no telling how far from the city they’d traveled.

  She let her gaze settle on a map spread open on a table. There were other pieces of paper scattered around it. She skimmed over all of it, seeing but not cognizant enough to draw any of it into clear focus. She paused on the faces of each man, sensing it was important, stopping on Blane and holding him in her sights as she made a call to the men she still envisioned in her mind.

  Come to me.

  Blane’s lips moved, but with only one eye, she was unable to understand what he said. The look on his face spoke volumes, as did the way the others stood, stretched then headed toward her. As they closed in around her and the first fist fell again, her call became a litany in her head.

  Come to me. Save me. Come to me. Save me. Come to me.

  * * * *

  Aleksy waited until Tony was deep in discussion with Nathan before slipping out. He figured he’d have at least a five-minute head start before Tony took note of his absence. It should be just enough time to grab a bike and hit the road.

  As soon as he’d stood up, he’d known which bunker Tony had taken him to. He sprinted for the shed as soon as he cleared the building, dragging the door open and grabbing the closest bike. The one thing he could always count on Tony having was his toys. In this case, motorcycles and four wheelers. Since hunters and shifters both liked wooded areas better than large cities, all-terrain vehicles tended to be a necessity. Hell, the bunker they were using was surrounded on all sides by woods.

  Aleksy checked the fuel, knocked the kick stand up then pushed the bike out the door. He took the helmet from the back, throwing his leg over the motorcycle to straddle the seat. He was already heading out when he caught sight of Tony flying out the door. The other man was yelling, his hands gesturing wildly. Aleksy ignored him and kept going. He had to get to Lyra. If Blane and his men planned to kill her, there wasn’t time to spare. He’d already wasted enough sleeping off the knife wound he’d taken.

  He’d gone maybe a mile when he swore he heard a voice in his head. It was soft and feminine and stroked over his skin like a lover’s caress. It was Lyra. Aleksy wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he wasn’t questioning. She was telling him to come to her, to save her, and it fit seamlessly with his plans.

  “Where are you, baby?” he murmured into the air. His plan was to head back to the alley and trace Blane from there. Tony was good, but he wasn’t a shifter. Aleksy could track anyone once he picked up their trail. If he’d only had the chance to make contact with Lyra, to mark her as his, then hunting her down wouldn’t be an issue. Her blood would call to him.

  Images came into his mind. A long line of countertops with an empty container that looked as if it might have held dog bones, according to the faded label. There were cabinets overhead, the shelves empty. There was discarded mail on a table. It was for a vet’s office. There was a partial name. Hend…then the letters cut off.

  Come to me. Save me.

  “I am,” he swore. “Just hold on for me. Don’t you dare give up. I’m coming for you.”

  “I’m the one coming after you, asshole.” Tony’s voice filled his helmet, and Aleksy almost jerked the bike in surprise.

  “I couldn’t wait,” he told his friend. “They’re going to kill her. You said it yourself.”

  Tony sighed. “Nathan and I are right behind you. The rest of the group will meet us there. Take the road west when you get to the highway. They headed toward the country. You’ll waste time if you go back to Chicago.”

  “They’re holding her in an abandoned veterinary clinic.”

  “How do you know that?” Tony asked.

  “She’s telling me.”

  “She’s…” Tony’s voice trickled off, and there was a long pause of silence. “I thought you didn’t get a chance to mark her.”

  “I didn’t,” Aleksy admitted.

  “We really need to talk once we save her and things settle down a bit. There’s more going on here than we’ve seen before.”

  Aleksy usually didn’t mind when Tony went into Watcher mode, asking questions and gathering facts. Right now, Aleksy needed to get to Lyra though, and time was of the essence.

  “I’m getting the first four letters of it. H…E…N…D…followed by veterinary clinic. Any clue?”

  Tony had an eidetic memory. If he’d ever seen such a place listed on a map or even on the internet while doing a search, Tony could recall it perfectly.

  “Henderson,” Tony answered. “It went out of business less than six months ago. The building’s been vacant for the last four. Dr. Henderson died of a massive heart attack. His place was one of the ones I marked as a possible site Blane might utilize. I’m not sure how she’s communicating with you, and it’s a little scary. But keep me posted if she shares anything else. I see you up ahead. Let me take the lead, and I’ll get you as close as we can without announcing we’re there.”

  Since the bikes were nearly silent thanks to whatever Tony had done to them, Aleksy didn’t think announcing themselves would be an issue. At least, until his beast hit the ground running. There would be no holding it back once they got close.

  “Okay,” Aleksy agreed. He wasn’t sure how Lyra was managing to communicate with him. He was damn happy she was though. Faces began filling his head. Men with hard, angry expressions. Men with blood on them. Her blood. Rage shook Aleksy. He’d hunt down every single one of them and make sure they paid for hurting his woman.

  “Be quick,” he growled as Tony and Nathan reached him. Nathan was quiet, but Aleksy could tell he was focused. He hoped the other man lived through the day. There were no guarantees when it came to the war between hunters and shifters. Too many people had been killed as it was.

  “Follow me,” Tony said and shot his bike around Aleksy. Nathan fell in behind them.

  Aleksy could feel Lyra. She was hurt. Had they beat her? Cut her? Chained her to the wall as they were so fond of doing? Had they stripped her flesh bare to their eyes? Was she afraid? God, he’d do anything to be there with her. He should have ignored the vision in the bar and crossed to her immediately. If he had, maybe he could have prevented all of this.

  He shook off the what-ifs, focusing on the connection with Lyra. It was growing weaker, and that worried him. It should strengthen the closer he got to her. He wasn’t so concerned with how she’d linked with him when they’d yet to bond. Bottom line was they were mates. His animal knew it, and hers must, as well. Their connection was meant to be. It would only grow stronger once he marked her with his bite and she did the same to him. Of course, she’d have to find her inner beast and let it free before she could fully claim him.

  “We’re pulling off up here,” Tony said. “S
ingle file through the turn. We’ll take the access road to the one we’ll need. Watch my signal. I want to pull off before we get too close. We’ll go the rest of the way on foot. Nathan and I brought packs. We should have plenty of ammo until the rest of the team gets here. Just keep a level head, Aleksy.”

  Aleksy said nothing. His skin crawled. Lyra’s voice had faded completely. Either she’d passed out or they’d knocked her out. Either way, it didn’t bode well for his mate. His beast was ready to take over the search. His black liger would cover the ground far more quickly than he would. It would also do more damage with its massive claws.

  He followed Tony through the turns, and when they finally pulled off, Aleksy was off the bike and stripping before the other two had even dismounted. It was time to rescue his woman.

  Chapter Five

  Lyra couldn’t handle much more. She was fading fast and knew it. Luck was not with her this time. She had several broken bones, a probable concussion and countless cuts on her skin that wept fresh streams of blood. Blane’s men had hit her with batons and fists, booted feet, and anything else they’d wanted. As it was, she could barely see from the one eye that still functioned. The other was swollen up tight.

  They’d stopped their beating again, but it didn’t matter. She hadn’t felt anything for the last ten minutes. Her body was numb. She’d faded in and out of consciousness, coming back when they doused her with buckets of ice-cold water.

  Across from her, Blane argued with one of his men. She had no clue what they were saying, could only tell by their facial expressions and the wild gestures of arms and hands. Blane lifted his hand as if he were going to hit the man he spoke with; then he stilled, head cocked to the side as the color leached from his face. Fear. Blane was afraid.

  She wanted to see the others, to see if they felt the same rush of fear, but she couldn’t move her head. Her body refused to move at all.

  “Hurry…” Blane was saying to the others in the room. “…care of her…no traces…”

  She only got a word or two at a time, but it was enough for her to surmise they were done torturing her for answers she didn’t have. She wouldn’t have been able to give them answers anyway.

  She pictured the stranger from the club. Even in her thoughts, he was larger than life. He’d stared directly at her and mouthed the word mine. He’d been making a claim on her, one he’d never get the chance to follow through with now. She knew she was dying. Probably sooner than even she’d expected given the “no traces” phrase she’d caught from Blane’s lips.

  She’d fought so hard for survival. From birth, according to her mother. She’d heard the story numerous times. She hadn’t been breathing when she’d been delivered. Her dad had picked her up and breathed life into her. Her mother had sworn that one act had formed a bond between Lyra and her father, but Lyra found it hard to believe. She’d never understood her mother’s devotion to a man who hadn’t stuck around after Lyra’s birth. Lyra assumed he hadn’t wanted a defective child. Her mother had sworn he’d left to protect them. Either way, he’d been long gone by the time Lyra had found herself alone.

  The foster care system had honed her survival skills. There had been a steady supply of people who found it acceptable to abuse the freaky little girl who’d been dropped on their doorstep. Especially when they thought she couldn’t speak out against them. She’d learned quickly that evil was often hidden behind the most beautiful facades. And she’d learned to trust only herself.

  She’d been alone most of her life, cocooned in a world of silence she’d learned to take comfort in. She didn’t have to pretend she couldn’t hear the name calling and put downs. She merely turned away from those speaking. Most considered her an uppity bitch. Few realized she was deaf.

  That was why she’d stayed so long at the bar in Chicago. The manager there had a deaf sister. He’d recognized Lyra’s inability to hear, noticed she read lips, and given her a job anyway, along with a promise to keep her secret.

  Lyra had let it lull her into a false sense of security. Her mom had adhered to the code of never staying in the same place longer than six months. Lyra had followed it, even after her mom had been taken from her. It hadn’t been too hard to get foster families to send her packing. Moving around had only become easier once she was on her own.

  She should have left Chicago sooner. She shouldn’t have ignored a protocol she’d followed her entire life. Now, she’d pay for it.

  She focused on her vision of the dark-haired giant, picturing the way his gaze had searched her out, the shape of his lips as he’d made his outrageous claim. If she could go back, she’d cross to him instead of running. But there were no do-overs in life. There were only harsh, cold realities. And her time was coming to an end.

  A sharp slap to the face had Lyra blinking her eye open. Blane was there, saying something, spittle flying from his mouth as he waved a blade before her. He slapped her again then a third time, and she found herself doing something she rarely ever did. Laughing. It seemed a fitting way to die.

  She felt pressure in her side and knew from the blood coating Blane’s empty hand that he’d stabbed her. Unfortunately for him, her body was too numb to feel it.

  She closed her eye, not wanting Blane to be the last thing she saw. She focused on Costas, whispering to him the only word she could give him now.

  Goodbye.

  * * * *

  Aleksy took off as soon as all four paws were on the ground. He heard Tony cursing behind him but didn’t care. Lyra was slipping away from him. He let his jaw drop and loosed a roar that had the nature around him scurrying for shelter. Death would indeed touch these woods, but it wouldn’t be hers.

  He encountered the first lookout and took care of the man with one swipe of his paw. They always underestimated the size and strength of shifters in animal form. At least, when it came to him, they did. Of course, Aleksy was even bigger than most. After all, he carried the DNA of three large cats: the lion, the tiger and the panther.

  The hunters fled like rats. He heard the hum of engines the closer he got to Lyra’s scent. Blane would be gone, but Aleksy vowed he’d hunt the other man to the ends of the earth and make him pay for what he’d done to Lyra. Aleksy’s mate would be avenged. First, he had to save her.

  Her animal was getting weaker. He felt it with every step. She was slipping from him when he’d yet to taste the joy of finding his other half. He couldn’t lose her. He put on another burst of speed as the veterinary clinic came into view. Dust flew from the dirt road where trucks sped away, and as much as he wanted to give chase, to taste the blood of his enemies, he needed to get to Lyra more.

  Two men remained, and Aleksy wondered if they even realized they’d drawn the short straws and been left to occupy him while the others got away. He roared again as their guns were turned on him. Normally, he wouldn’t care. He’d charge in, headfirst, knowing his beast would heal him. He couldn’t afford the delay this time. Nor could he risk being knocked unconscious when his mate needed him.

  He took time he didn’t have to stalk this prey, turning them until their backs were to Tony and Nathan. He knew the other two men would engage. Tony would be sure to keep at least one of the hunting party alive for interrogation. When they’d learned what they could, Aleksy would kill him. The other man’s fate had been written the moment he’d decided to help a man like Blane hurt Aleksy’s mate.

  A gunshot burned along Aleksy’s right flank, and he moved through a door that had been left ajar during the rush to flee. With one massive paw, he slammed the door shut then followed the smell of his mate’s blood to what must have been an exam room.

  Lyra’s naked body was tied spread eagle to a table that had been tipped upward, such that she was almost standing while remaining flat against the surface. Blood coated her skin and stained the table and floor beneath her. Another roar ripped from his throat, and miraculously, Lyra blinked one eye open.

  Rage consumed him as he took her in. She was broken and blee
ding, one side of her face swollen, the eye closed. The hilt of a knife stuck out of her side, and Aleksy felt the burn of it on his own body as he remembered the blade he’d taken not so long ago.

  His mate didn’t have his strength though, and she desperately needed it if she were to survive this. And she was. It wasn’t a question. He shifted, transforming from beast to man with ease. His beast knew what was required to save her, but it was something only the man could give—a mating bite. The jaws of the beast would only damage her further, while the man could use his bite, his saliva to give her a part of himself, a part that would see her almost fully healed within the next few hours. Such was the strength of his DNA and the antibodies his mate would soon absorb.

  When he came to his feet, he was as naked as she was. His cock was long and thick, not from the desire to mate her, but simply from the fact she was near. He did want her, hungered for her with a ferocity that scared even him. But he’d never hurt her. She needed him right now, but not sexually. There would be time to taste of each other once she was whole again.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered, reaching out to steady her with one hand while using the other to free her bonds. It worried him that no sound left her lips. No cry of pain. Not even a moan. Her one eye tracked him though, the blue bright against the paleness of her skin. “Do you know who I am?”

  Mine, whispered through his mind, her voice a weak caress that still managed to stroke over him.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I am yours just as you’re mine.”

  She blinked, her eyelid staying down for so long he feared she’d passed out. Then it slowly lifted.

  He broke the last restraint and eased her into his arms, cradling her high against his chest as he moved her from where they’d tortured her.

  “I will kill each and every man who took part in this,” he vowed. “That is my promise to you as your mate. No one will ever lift a hand to you again without feeling the full potency of my rage raining upon them.”