Therian Prize: 5 (Therian Heat)

by Friberg, Cyndi

  If he interacted with anyone right now, he’d start a fight. And the last thing he needed was another enemy. So he headed to the Clubhouse. It was a little after eleven. No one else would be there until late afternoon. The familiar setting always soothed him and a few hours of silence might help clear his mind.

  He let himself in through the back and headed straight for the office. An unexpected yet familiar scent brought him up short halfway through the main room of the bar.

  “I didn’t think you’d ever get here, but I wasn’t sure where you live.”

  It was her, Milliner’s messenger. His heart did a ridiculous flip and his nostrils flared, desperate for more of her tantalizing scent. He searched the shadows but couldn’t locate her among the tables crowned with upturned chairs.

  “How’d you get in here?”

  She laughed though the sound seemed to come from the opposite side of the room. “Is that what you really want to know?”

  He paused, alert, suspicious. Her scent had changed subtly. She still smelled human but now he detected something else, something more. “What did you do to me? I can’t get your image out of my mind.”

  “I’m flattered, but that’s not why I came.” She emerged from the shadows with preternatural grace, almost as if she’d just appeared out of thin air.

  He narrowed his gaze and inhaled deeply, trying to identify the new element in her scent. “Then why did you come?”

  “I found you more amusing the other night than I’d expected, so I decided to give you a warning.”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in. She found him “amusing”? She’d spent half the night bent over his desk, submitting to his every desire, and the other half on her knees with his cock in her mouth. Was this a ploy to provoke him again? Maybe she wanted a more severe form of punishment.

  “So warn me,” he muttered as possibilities teased his imagination.

  She sauntered toward him, hips swaying, lips twisted into a smug little smile. “I’m not the helpless fool I allowed you to believe.”

  “It would have been stupid for Milliner to send someone that helpless.” So why had Nate accepted her persona without batting an eye?

  “I don’t work for Milliner anymore. He no longer amuses me.”

  There was that word again. “That’s not much of a warning. If Milliner didn’t send you then why are you here?” Part of him wanted to cross the room and yank her into his arms but the more sensible part held back. He needed to know what he was dealing with before he touched her again.

  “Milliner is playing you for a fool. The cats rescued Dhane several days ago, so there’s no way the general could have made the trade. He was going to wait until you delivered Heather and then kill you.”

  Rage spread through Nate, compressing his chest and stealing his breath. He had no reason to trust her and yet he believed every word. That slimy human bastard had double-crossed him! “I’ll kill him for this. No one—”

  “Milliner’s day will come, but for now I need you to play dumb.”

  “I don’t play dumb. Ever. No one gets away with—”

  “He’ll not get away with anything, but you will leave Milliner to me. You’ll convince him you’re doing everything you can to find Heather, make him believe all you need is more time.”

  He had no intention of following orders, hers or anyone’s. But instinct warned him not to push. This was not some helpless human. She obviously knew more than she was saying and undoubtedly had powers she’d yet to reveal.

  “Do you know where my daughter is?”

  She had the audacity to laugh. “Heather’s safe and out of danger, but that’s not why you asked.”

  “Where is she?” He was halfway across the room before he realized he was moving. “Do the backers have her or…” He stopped and ran both hands through his hair, exasperated. “It’s those fucking cats, isn’t it? Which clan dared to interfere with my pack?”

  “You already know the answer so don’t waste my time. The question is, what should you do now? Are you wise enough to turn this to your advantage or are you going to rush off and get yourself killed?”

  With his fists clenched at his sides he glared at her. “What difference does it make to you?”

  She shrugged. “You amuse me. It’s been a long time since I found someone who did. It would be a shame for it to end after only one night.”

  Before he could calm himself enough to speak, she melted back into the shadows.

  Chapter Ten

  Jake rested on his back with Heather snuggled against his side. The covers tangled about their hips and twilight crept across the room, creating a surreal haven. She was either asleep or lost in thought and he didn’t want to disturb her. They’d spent last night and most of today in bed, exploring each other. Their link made it easy to determine which pleasures they each enjoyed, but as soon as their passion cooled she retreated behind her shields, unwilling to share her thoughts and feelings.

  He couldn’t blame her for being cautious. The only person in her life who hadn’t betrayed her was Lexxie. Landon hadn’t actually betrayed her. He’d abandoned her to their father’s ruthlessness, which was almost as bad.

  “We can’t spend all day in bed,” she whispered, her breath warm against his neck.

  They’d ventured into the kitchen a couple of hours before and scrounged together something to eat. The rebels never knew when the safe house would be needed, so Erin kept it stocked with food and other essentials. Other than the quick repast—and inevitable bathroom breaks—they hadn’t left the bed, much less the bedroom.

  “Why can’t we spend all day in bed?” He pulled her on top of him, groaning as her warm body covered his. “We’re not expected at Devon’s until seven, so we have plenty of time to—”

  Her laughter cut him off. “I can barely walk now.” She straddled his hips and sat up, arising from the covers like a pagan goddess. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  Sliding his hands up her legs, he gripped her hips and rocked against her. “You’re death is the furthest thing from my mind.”

  “Glad to hear it.” She braced her hands against his chest and leaned down, obviously meaning to kiss him.

  His phone vibrated on the nightstand, halting her descent. He muttered an impatient curse and sat up. He’d turned the infernal thing back on after lunch, figuring twenty-four hours was long enough to be incommunicado while so many conflicts remained unresolved. Though all Therians were telepathic to some extent, their ranges varied greatly, which left them dependent upon more conventional means of communication.

  Unwilling to release her entirely, he tossed a pillow against the headboard and scooted back, taking her with him. He grabbed the phone off the nightstand and swiped his thumb across the screen, unlocking the display. The caller was identified by initials and trepidation lodged in his gut as he realized it was Grace, the healer who was treating Natasha.

  “This is Jake. How is she?”

  Grace wasted no time with small talk. “I did everything I could, sir. Natasha was beyond saving.”

  He closed his eyes as grief washed over him. He’d received way too many of these calls. He should be used to them by now. “Thank you for letting me know. Did she regain consciousness at all?”

  Warm fingers lightly stroked his face and he opened his eyes. Heather stared back at him, compassion warming her gaze.

  “She didn’t, but I was able to scan an image from her mind. I’m pretty sure it was the person who possessed her.”

  “I’ll retrieve the image the next time I see you, but could you describe what you saw for me now?”

  “Female, late twenties or early thirties, very pretty, with long silver hair and pale-blue eyes. I couldn’t sense what she was exactly, but she was certainly not human.”

  He caught Heather’s wrist and guided her hand away from his face, too agitated to accept comfort. The person who matched that description was dead. Ian had made sure of it himself. “Thank you.” He had to fo
rce the words past the massive lump in his throat.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss. Natasha will be missed.”

  Something in Grace’s tone made Jake tense. “Does Enya know about this?”

  Grace sighed. “Yes, sir. She caught up with us last night and has been with Natasha ever since. She’s taking it very hard.”

  Jake leaned his head against the headboard and stared at the ceiling, tormented by his own thoughts. He’d been really vague about the attack when he switched cars with Enya. He should have realized she wouldn’t leave it alone. “May I speak with her?”

  “Of course. Hold on.”

  After a short pause, Enya said, “There is nothing you can say to make this better. You made your choice when you carried Heather Fitzroy into my bar.”

  “I know you’re furious, but—”

  “You don’t know anything! She was my best friend, the only person I could trust. I hope your wolf was worth it.”

  “Enya, that’s not fair. I—”

  “Stay away from me. I won’t be responsible for my actions if you intrude on my grief.”

  The bitter anguish in his sister’s tone cut into Jake like ruthless talons. She didn’t give him the chance to respond. She ended the call, leaving Jake feeling hollow and torn.

  If Zophiel was involved, chances were good this had nothing to do with Heather. But that didn’t bring Natasha back. Enya had every right to be angry.

  Jake set the phone aside, stunned and silent. Danger was an inherent part of personal security, especially for highly placed Therians. Natasha knew there were significant risks when she took the job. Still, this felt wrong, unnatural.

  “That was about Natasha. Wasn’t it?” Heather drew his gaze back to her face. Her pained expression reflected his sorrow.

  “She didn’t make it.”

  Heather leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her warm body against his chest. “I’m sorry.” She said nothing more, just held him and showered his being with support and compassion.

  He stared into the distance as anger and helplessness took turns pummeling him. Gradually the silence became oppressive, so he said, “Natasha didn’t deserve this. She was one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met.”

  “Were you more than her employer?” Her tone was casual but a dart of jealousy flashed across their link, a hot little ember quickly extinguished.

  He shook his head, secretly pleased by her reaction. If she felt nothing more for him than lust, she wouldn’t be jealous. Her growing affection for him was a tiny ray of light piercing the darkness. “We were friends, but she was really close with Enya. Enya is devastated.”

  “Were they…lovers?”

  “No.” He eased her back so he could see her face. “There was nothing sexual between any of us. They’d both survived violent abuse and it drew them together. After Natasha left her husband, she lived with Enya for a couple of years. Enya talked me into giving Natasha a job and Natasha ended up being much better at it than any of us imagined. Nothing lurid, just friends helping friends.”

  Heather rested her hands on his shoulders, looking miserable. “I feel horrible about this. If I hadn’t run none of this would have happened.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. If what I suspect is true, the attack had nothing to do with you.”

  “What do you suspect?” She watched him carefully, her emotions closely guarded once again.

  “Grace was able to pull an image of Natasha’s attacker out of her mind. The description fits a woman named Zophiel. We thought Ian had taken care of her, but now I’m not so sure.”

  Her knees tensed against his thighs. “What did Zophiel do to deserve being ‘taken care of’ by Ian?”

  “It’s a long story and I only know bits and pieces. I’ll tell Ian that Zophiel might still be alive and you can ask him your questions at dinner.”

  * * * * *

  Heather and Jake met Devon at the sanctuary an hour before dinner. Jake crouched before Serra’s cage and tried to draw her attention. The tigress raised her head, golden eyes wide and alert.

  “Hi, Serra. I’m sorry I had to leave before. We had an appointment that couldn’t be broken.”

  The tigress shifted her head and looked at Heather, who stood half a step back from Jake. Serra’s gaze narrowed and she lowered her chin to her front paws.

  How are you feeling? Is there anything we can get for you? Jake used the common link, so Heather heard the questions too.

  Serra’s only response was to close her eyes.

  Serra. I’d really like to speak with you.

  She growled just loud enough to be heard.

  Jake pulled the unlocked bars aside and stepped into the cage. Serra curled into a tighter ball, facing the corner.

  “Let her be,” Devon advised. “It’s obvious she wants to be left alone.”

  Jake nodded but tried one last time. “No one will harm you here. You’re safe, but we suspect there are others where you came from. I hope you’ll tell us what you know so we can help them as well as you.”

  Serra didn’t react to his words so he exited but left the bars unlocked.

  Devon led them around the circular room and pulled open a nondescript door. “It might take some time to earn her trust. Don’t give up.” The open door revealed a metal staircase leading underground.

  “Where are we going?” Heather eyed the staircase suspiciously. Did she really want to know what these cats had stashed down there? She pictured metal bunkers and storerooms filled with guns, ammunition and nonperishable food. Didn’t they know that the end of the world had come and gone and Earth was still spinning?

  Devon grinned. “There’s more to the sanctuary than meets the eye.”

  Heather looked at Jake but he was looking at Devon. “Isn’t your apartment above the visitor center?”

  “It is and it’s tiny. We were going to have dinner with Mom, but she got called away at the last minute. Ian’s waiting for us over at her place.”

  He turned to Heather and smiled. “It’s all right. You’re about to see something few wolves have ever seen.”

  “I think Landon is the only other wolf who’s been below,” Devon said dramatically.

  With her heart thudding madly and her stomach clenched, Heather followed Devon down the stairs. Jake fell in step behind them but left the narrative to Devon. The air grew cool and the surroundings dimmed as they reached a small tiled landing. With rustic support beams and external utilities, the passageway looked much like a mining tunnel.

  “Eli’s headquarters is through that door,” Devon pointed out, but she didn’t stop.

  “Who is Eli?”

  “Head of security for the rebels and master of all things electronic, but he’s already left for the day.”

  “Then who’s monitoring the cameras?” Jake asked.

  Cameras? As in surveillance? Heather kept the question to herself. Obviously he hadn’t meant television.

  “I think Bill’s on duty tonight. Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Where does this tunnel lead?” If she just followed along she’d find out but that wasn’t Heather’s nature. Her curious mind demanded explanations.

  “To rebel houses or storage facilities. We own most of the land surrounding the sanctuary. This allows us to come and go without notice.”

  There was only one house in close proximity to the sanctuary. “The tunnels must extend for miles.”

  “The first tunnel was dug by hand about ninety years ago. We’ve been expanding ever since.”

  “Your rebellion has been in existence for ninety years?”

  With a chuckle Devon shook her head. “Of course not. The tunnels have been used for everything from hiding liquor during Prohibition, to safeguarding network valuables, to acting as a bomb shelter during various wars. The most recent use has been to assist with rebel activities.”

  Heather should be flattered that De
von trusted her enough to show her the underground infrastructure. Instead it made her sad. It was obvious the rebels no longer considered her a threat. She’d been conditioned to think of cats as enemies. It felt strange to be taken into their confidence.

  The tunnel branched off several times before they reached the ladder leading up to Erin’s basement. “This is where I grew up, so it feels as much like home as my apartment.” Devon smiled and started climbing.

  Jake touched her arm, his expression revealing his concern. “What’s wrong? You look sort of pale.”

  She nodded. “Each step I take with you guys leads me further away from everything I’ve known. It just feels strange.”

  He didn’t patronize her with a superficial reply. He just gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

  The basement was small but orderly. They walked across a well-lit washroom, through the unfinished portion of the basement and up a set of wooden stairs. A door at the top of the stairs opened between a kitchen and a casual dining room.

  Ian Douglas stood in the kitchen, filling a coffee mug. The towering blond seemed even larger in the compact space. He watched the visitors emerge from the stairwell, his gaze nearly glowing as he looked at his mate. “I was just about to sneak a piece of chicken. I’ve been tortured by the smell of Erin’s cooking for over an hour.”

  Heather’s stomach growled at the appealing smells, so she understood Ian’s complaint. He acknowledged her with a raise of his chin then went right back to teasing his mate.

  “Why doesn’t your food taste like your mother’s? She’s one of the best cooks I know.”

  Devon glared at him then laughed. “That’s the problem. Every time I cook everyone complains about it, so I just stopped trying.”