by Sydney Croft
Even before the last spasms melted away, he grasped her panties and gave them a frantic tug. “Playtime’s over.”
A sound—a distant yip—brought her head up with a soft growl. Tom froze.
“What is it?” he asked quietly, as several more yips joined the first, some very near.
“Coyotes. They’re warning us.”
He swore. She scrambled off him, her body shrieking in frustration because her orgasm had only intensified her need. Tom came to his feet like lightning, a gun in one hand, his other tucking his cock back inside his BDUs. He winced as he buttoned up, and she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling the pain of sexual withdrawal.
“Tom—”
“Stay here,” he said sharply, and started to move off, his gait a little stiff.
“Tom, wait. You have to hurry.”
He nodded, and she hoped the urgency in her voice told him just how much he’d have to hurry. She needed sex. Soon.
ENDER HAD BEEN THE LAST ONE to know there was trouble. He’d been too lost in the way her mouth had been doing things no woman had ever done to him, the way she tasted when she came, the way his balls had been on the verge of exploding far too soon. And yeah, it was going to be damned good…
The low growl that had come from her throat hadn’t sounded like the end of her orgasm, but he’d been so busy thinking about getting into her, his body conforming to her needs and actually aching for her after four hours, he hadn’t realized her response was in answer to another, more sinister sound.
He’d sent Kira away with that coyote she claimed knew of a safe spot for her to hide, but there had been a brief moment of hesitation in her stance. He figured it had more to do with needing sex than actually being worried about him, and felt his anger mount at even worrying about her feelings.
Shit, he needed to get himself together. Maybe killing these Itor agents would help.
He’d waited until Kira had gotten out of sight, as swiftly and silently as any operative he’d ever worked with, and then he moved, just as quietly but far faster, to meet the men Itor had sent after her.
Two men. Itor always sent them two-by-two, while ACRO preferred teams of one in the field with constant backup in the form of psychics. Ender refused to turn his mind over to them, and this time, he hadn’t even let Dev in on his plans.
Being a freak in the real world was a funny thing, and both agencies knew that if you wanted to stay in the game—and thrive—then you didn’t send in huge teams of operatives and create a spectacle. Neither agency could be sure who was watching them, waiting to snap a picture or capture an operative and turn them and whatever superability they might have over to the public for scrutiny, and in turn expose them all.
No, under the radar meant more dangerous missions for all operatives, and this was turning out to be worse than usual.
He waited, stock-still, half-hidden in the foliage like a good sniper, and assessed the danger headed his way.
Two men—one excedo with as yet unknown powers, and one unknown entity. Possibly a mind-fucker.
A nudge to his thigh made him turn his head slowly, until he was staring down at a black bear crouched on all fours as if at the ready. Ender knew that if the bear stood on its hind legs, man and beast would be eye to eye.
You here to help, buddy, or am I going to have to fight you too?
The bear cocked his head, and Ender swore it gave him that same exasperated look Kira continued to give him. He turned back to the men, watched as the excedo ripped a large, thick branch off a nearby tree like it was a mere twig, and knew he was dealing with another Derek. Or worse.
Itor had been experimenting with their excedos, especially the ones with superstrength, giving them massive doses of steroids to enhance their natural abilities. The combination resulted in men who doubled their strength—and doubled their rage until it became uncontrollable. Animals. The drugs ate away at their minds until some of the operatives had to be put down. This man who stood ten feet from him was one of them. Ender could see it in his eyes.
The other guy still gave no indication as to what he was. Times like this, having a little bit of psychic in him would come in handy.
He pulled his gun into position slowly so as not to upset his new furry friend, locked the scope and prepared to take out the second guy first. The devil you didn’t know was always the more dangerous. He pulled the trigger with the confidence of someone who’d done this enough to know he was spot on target.
He’d also done this enough to know that something had gone terribly wrong. The bullet, which sped toward its mark, slowed as it got within ten feet of the man.
He’s got a force field. Not a very well-known skill, but it told him that the man was telekinetic. And Ender knew he was pretty well screwed.
The man turned, smiled, pointed as he casually moved out of the way and the bullet hit the tree behind him. Ender saw him mouth, Go get him, to the excedo even as the gun ripped out of Ender’s hand.
Ender didn’t bother pulling his second. Guns weren’t going to work until he got rid of the telekinetic, which meant snapping his neck.
“We’re on,” he said, because, hell, might as well start talking to the animals too. But before he could take a step out of his hiding place, he was slammed quickly and efficiently to the ground.
The bear growled, low and controlled, rose on its hind legs and allowed enough distraction for Ender to get his shit together and regroup. The bear lunged and he heard a yell as excedo and animal rolled over each other in a fight to the death.
Had to leave me with the hard one, he thought, seconds before he found himself flying through the air. He remembered what Wyatt taught him in that workshop Dev made him sit through last year—something about partitioning and not being able to use too many powers at once without draining one or both. But there was something else, something about the speed of light, and in order to beat the telekinetic’s mind and penetrate his force field, Ender would have to do something completely foreign to him.
He’d have to slow down.
He honed in, using his beyond-normal eyesight to keep watch on the man’s face so he could detect when he was going to fling his powers. He’d give something away, no doubt—a slight rise of the eyebrow, a push of the lip, a crinkle of the nose. Everyone gave something away.
“Jesus, get him off me.” He heard the excedo’s bloodcurdling scream and the telekinetic smiled, no intention of trying to save his supposed partner. Ender shifted his attention to the massacre for a second, in time to see an arm hanging out of the bear’s mouth, and shit, steroids were no match for nature.
“It doesn’t matter—she can send all the animal friends she wants to help, but we’ve already got her,” the man said.
Focus, Ender. Fucking focus. He’s got to be lying. But the guy’s face gave away nothing, an impenetrable mask of hatred even as Ender’s gut began to ache.
“She was calling your name as we took her away,” the man continued, and Ender stayed crouched on all fours, not attempting to move. “I wonder how long she’s going to last before she begs one of the men to fuck her? From the research I’ve seen, she’ll die without it.”
How long had he been separated from Kira? It had to have been an hour, at least, and she’d been in need at that point. An hour later, she’d be climbing the walls. Two and beyond—he didn’t want to think about that. Thinking about that had been what got him into this situation in the first place.
“You could actually be quite useful to us, if you care to join.”
“No thanks. I’ve seen how you treat your agents,” he answered finally.
“Him? He needed to be put down. I was just waiting for an excuse. I’d been hoping you’d put him out of his misery, but this is actually far more fun,” the man said.
“Where did you take Kira?” he asked, and Jesus Christ, the bear turned to look at him and he knew, dammit, knew for sure that Kira was safe. This was crazy. He was going bat-shit crazy, and he was getting back to ci
vilization as soon as possible.
Then again, he’d been surrounded by animals all of his life, some fiercer than others, but all primal, just the same.
“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. Then again, I plan to do that anyway, because you don’t seem the cooperative type,” the man said.
Come closer, you bastard. Give me one more shot.
He knew it was coming, saw the subtle twitch in the guy’s left eyelid, so when he was slammed onto his back again he was able to land easier.
The guy held a gun in one hand, a knife in the other, and when Ender tested his theory about moving slow, his arm felt like it was being pulled through molasses. It served the purpose of giving the man false hope, and now Ender knew for sure his plan would work. It also earned him a deep slash across his biceps that was going to hurt like a mother while it healed.
“Now you die,” the man said. And Ender was not going to mind proving him wrong.
When the guy leaned in to him, gun drawn for the kill, Ender put his hands around the man’s throat. Normal human speed, but for him, it was nearly painful to move at that pace. His muscles didn’t understand it, his ligaments screamed for speed and the guy’s eyes widened in surprise as Ender snapped his neck.
Of course, Ender got a surprise of his own as the last of the guy’s telekinetic energy flung him easily over the precipice and down into the dense woodlands below.
KIRA’S EVERY INSTINCT HAD TOLD HER to go with Tom, partly because she didn’t want to lose track of him, not when she needed sex so desperately, and partly because she wanted to help. In the end, though, she knew he was right, and reluctantly she’d followed the coyote into the woods. She’d nearly jumped out of her skin when the bear they’d encountered earlier emerged from some brush behind her. Apparently, he’d followed, his curiosity piqued once the initial shock of running into them had worn off. It had been easy enough to convince him to watch after Tom. The price had been two candy bars from her backpack and the suggestion that the men Tom had gone after might have more.
When neither man nor beast had returned an hour later, she considered going after them. But no, if Tom came back and she wasn’t here, it might already be too late for her.
She paced some more. And when, two hours after Tom had gone, the pain began, she knew she had no choice. She had to find him.
She had to find anyone.
Nausea swirled in her stomach as she stumbled in the direction Tom had gone. Her legs grew more shaky with every step. Even her vision had started to blur. She careened off a couple of trees and lost her balance, hit the forest floor in a tangle of brush.
“Tom!”
Crows erupted from the trees around her, and she wished she could speak with Aves more than she could. She tried to push to her feet, but her legs gave out. No problem. She’d crawl. Thorns and pine needles dug into her palms, and cramps seized every muscle. Oh, God, she hadn’t been this sick in years.
She shuddered, tasted bile. “Tom,” she croaked, because her throat had gone dry and scratchy, and merely breathing had become agonizing.
Every foot forward became a struggle, and finally she could no longer crawl. Trembling, she curled up against a tree and sent out feelers to any nearby animals. Please, she begged. I need help.
A chipmunk skittered toward her from beneath a fallen tree. He chattered, scolded her, then flicked his tail and watched her with suspicion. Closing her eyes, she sent the little guy a picture of Tom, sent him Tom’s scent. Sent a lot of images the poor thing didn’t need to see, but her mind was swirling with panic and pain, and delirium had turned her into a quivering blob of hormones.
A hawk screeched overhead, and the chipmunk scampered away. She had no idea if the tiny rodent would be able to find Tom, or if it would even try. And if it did find him, would Tom know to pay attention?
Belly cramps doubled her up, and her skin, so hot it had to be burning the foliage beneath her, prickled with unbearable stabs of needlelike pain. Her bones felt like they were rubbing together, splintering.
“Hurry, Tom,” she gasped. “Mate or die.”
CHAPTER
Thirteen
THURSDAY 7 P.M. MST
Ender shifted back into consciousness like a switch turned abruptly on. The sunlight was nearly gone and he stared into the dark mass of trees high above him and wondered how Dev could stand waking up to total blackness.
He ignored the pounding in his head and concentrated on flexing the muscles in his legs first. He couldn’t tell if his toes were really curling or if that was just wishful thinking, because he’d fallen a hell of a long way. He finally resorted to pinching his thighs, and when he was sure he felt that, along with the throb in his arm that reminded him of the knife wound, he sighed with relief. Slowly, he moved his neck from side to side, and as full consciousness settled over him he became aware of the rocks he was lying on. They dug into his spine and he was never so grateful for any feeling in his life.
A movement to his left startled him because he was sure those two Itor agents were long dead. And if there were more, he needed his body to be ready. Immediately.
Just as the shadow came closer, he jumped to his feet in one fluid motion, adrenaline rushing through his muscles and throbbing through his veins, and he came face-to-face with the bear who’d killed the enemy for him. And it did not look happy.
It roared in his face and he roared back, more from surprise than anything else. The bear wasn’t backing down, and just when he’d prepared to use his newly rediscovered skills to get out of the way fast, he realized what the bear was doing.
It wasn’t pissed—it was protecting him—again. Because the blood from his own wound had brought out the scavengers, and he heard the low-timbred growls from behind him. He turned his head to see more than one wolf, teeth bared and growling into the night, and shit, Ender was no match for this.
Thankfully, the bear didn’t seem to want his help. Ender backed away and began his climb up the cliff. Once he had sure footing, he started to move. Blood dripped down his biceps, but he ignored it. Because, like Kira, his body was screaming for sex. He’d been gone nearly four hours.
He yanked himself back over the ledge, and once on firm footing, he took off. Seven miles and fifteen minutes later, he was back within range of where he’d left her, and discovered that either she or that damned coyote had wiped the trail clean. Excellent thinking, except for the fact that she might be dying and he didn’t have time to waste tracking her.
When he felt the tug at his boot and looked down to see the chipmunk there, looking up at him expectantly, he didn’t bother to groan out loud the way he wanted to. Instead, he actually said, “Hurry,” out loud, and the thing scurried away, leading him through the underbrush and to the deserted cabin that kept Kira safe and sound.
Well, safe, but she appeared to be far from sound, lying on the floor. She was wet and dirty, and it looked like she’d been out searching for him when she collapsed and had been dragged back here by some of her friends.
He was on his knees next to her within seconds, everything else forgotten but her. “Kira. Shit, Kira honey, can you hear me?”
Her head moved to the side and a low moan escaped her lips. A thin sheen of sweat covered her body and the pulse at the base of her throat was thready against his two fingers.
He roughly pulled her cammy pants off even as he released his cock, which seemed to spring to life at just the thought of her, and he spread her legs.
“Kira, I’m here. I’m going to help you,” he murmured as he slid inside her and got an almost immediate response, her legs reflexively banding his waist to lock him down.
“Tommy, please hurry. Hurry,” she panted, and sometimes having superspeed really did have its advantages. He came within seconds of pumping his hips, and when he spilled inside of her, she groaned, her eyes opened and her breathing eased.
He touched her neck again and she moaned softly at the contact. Her pulse was stronger, but still weaker than
he would’ve liked. She needed more of him, and he needed to clean them both up, plus suture his wound or risk a major infection.
He gathered her carefully in his arms and walked her outside and toward the sounds of water he’d heard earlier. The wide, smooth stream was sheltered from the breeze by a mountain of rocks on one side and by trees on the other. He dropped his bag at the edge of the stream, toed his boots off, with her in his arms, and continued on.
He’d gotten blood on both of them, and he walked, him still basically fully clothed and her wearing just the shirt he’d given her, into the cool water. That began to revive her even more, and she actually smiled up at him.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Hey yourself,” he said.
“I thought—” she started, and he put a finger to her lips.
“I’m here now.”
She nodded, her eyes still slightly unfocused. “Did you get the men who were following us?”
“Taken care of. Thanks for sending in the furry backup,” he said.
“Is Cheveyo okay?” she asked.
“You named the bear?”
“He already had a name,” she said, and he shook his head.
“He seemed to be doing fine when I left him.”
“Good.” She nuzzled his neck and he realized his own pulse was racing—part fear, part adrenaline. He was too attached.
“You’re warm,” he said when he realized she was staring at him.
“If I go too long without sex, my body temperature soars. It’s going down now. But I’m going to need more. Soon,” she said, and even though she didn’t avert her eyes from his as she said it, he knew she wanted to.
“You’ll get more. And then we’ve got to move out, make time.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Can you give me a few minutes now, or do you need me?” he asked.
“I can give you a few minutes, but you’re not going anywhere, are you?”
“I’m staying right here,” he assured her. “Can you stand?”
