by Kari Cole
“You’re kidding,” Vaughn said.
“Nope.” She flipped the studded black-leather dog collar over and showed him the small package taped to the inside. The case was wrapped in plastic to protect it from rain or Frost’s love of lakes. “Anyone have a knife? This is really good tape.”
“Here,” Luke said. She handed the collar to him and he pulled out a pocketknife. “What kind of tape is this?”
“The kind you use to repair vinyl or leather. I lifted it from a craft store.” Vaughn gave her a look. “What? Did you think I could hold down a job or use Daddy’s credit cards?”
“Christ,” he said, and buried his face in her hair.
“Huh. Seems like something that caused so much trouble should be bigger,” Dean said when Luke freed the memory card and set it down on the table.
Everyone but Hannah and Frost looked at the tiny red micro SD card. He was right. You would think something that led to the deaths of so many people would seem more substantial.
“Well, that’s great. We have the card,” Diego said. “But how are we going to access the data without the password? I’m not comfortable asking Hannah to keep touching the damn thing until we get it all. No one needs to be put through that.”
Vaughn stared at the other male. “Thank you.”
“Uh...” Jessie said.
“What?”
“Isn’t that kind of the plan? I mean, that’s why Becca Bitch and that Raze guy wanted Hannah. They wanted her to use her ability to find the password.”
Vaughn jerked badly enough that Frost woke up and grumble at him. “No. No fucking way. Do you know what happens to her when she touches that thing? I’ve seen some of the shit on there. I don’t want her anywhere near it anymore, let alone trying to read it.”
“Vaughn—”
“You almost died already today, Hannah. A couple of times. That’s enough.”
Luke leaned forward again. “Vaughn—”
“No, Luke. Would you let Izzy do something that makes her bleed out of her eyes and causes violent seizures?” The Alpha’s face turned to stone. “That’s what I thought.”
Hannah scooted around until she could look at Vaughn, square in the face. He was wearing his I’m a stubborn badass, stay back look. “I love you,” she said.
He blushed.
Dear Lord, was there anything cuter?
She tugged off one glove and touched his cheek. “I love that you want to protect me. Who’s protecting those kids?”
Oh, he looked so hurt. The color drained from his face, and his eyes got a little wild. She hugged him, and he squeezed her so tight, her ribs ached. That’s when she knew he was going to go along with it.
So did Jessie. “I have Gran’s gloves. I found them in your backpack, along with a bunch of my clothes.”
“Um, sorry? I swear I’m not a klepto when I’m not running for my life.”
There was some back and forth about how long she’d be allowed to touch the card, how many times they’d let her, how Sarah would monitor her vitals, who and how many people should she share the visions with, what she should look for to find the password, et cetera.
All the while, Hannah sat on the couch with Frost and watched Vaughn pace and growl. He was magnificent, and he was hers.
In the end, she was the only one who could make those rules. So she decided for herself.
Gran’s gloves were lying in her lap. She put them on and reveled in the sweet details of her great-grandmother’s life. When she was ready, she leaned over and picked up the memory card.
Vaughn’s roar was strangely soothing as the now-familiar horrors raced through her mind. All that passion and sense of justice would be going toward saving these kids and all the others.
She blocked out the emotions as best she could and tried to find Macon Crawford. He zipped in and out of the images, but finally, she saw his ring, and latched onto that.
Someone was shaking her, and her hand hurt. She blinked open her eyes to see Frost and Vaughn, looking down on her. Vaughn’s face was the same ash-white as Frost’s muzzle. She was lying on the floor trembling.
She smiled. “Got it.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Vaughn stood on his back patio and waited while Hannah unlocked the door and pushed it open. He carried Frost through, which was awkward as hell. He didn’t have a problem with the wolf’s weight, but Frost was a big animal and in pain, and it made for some complicated maneuvering. Sarah said the wolf could move around a bit on his own, but tonight at least, Vaughn felt like babying the annoying pain in the ass. If not for him, Hannah might not even be alive.
Hannah seemed to appreciate the extra consideration for her friend. As Vaughn eased past, she looked at him like he’d hung the moon. He could get used to that.
He carried Frost into the guest room and laid him on the bed. The wolf resettled himself and laid his head on his front paws with a gusty sigh.
“I’ll have to remember he’s a lightweight with the pain meds. Could come in handy.”
Hannah rolled her eyes.
“You all right?” he asked once they stepped out into the hall.
She looked back at the wolf and said, “Do you think it’s possible I did this? Made him come to me somehow?”
Coming to stand next to her in the doorway, Vaughn watched Frost sleep, too. “You never said—how did you two meet?”
“Oh. Well, he found me hiding out in the Adirondack Mountains, up on the Canadian border. I’d only been on my own about a week and I was pathetic. I had a piece-of-junk car, barely any money, and well...”
And she’d been mourning her family and scared to death. Vaughn pulled her into his arms.
“Anyway,” she said. “I found a place to camp and had built a fire. It was freezing. I mean, it was November in Upstate New York. I’m sure you can imagine the snow, but I’m from Georgia. I try to avoid our little mountain getaways in the winter.”
She gave an exaggerated shiver that he enjoyed immensely given how close she was standing. He also enjoyed her drawling accent. Once Diego outted her, she’d ditched the attempts at the generic, middle-America pronunciations. It wasn’t Scarlett O’Hara thick, but it seemed to suit her better, and it was sexy as hell.
“There I was, huddled up to the fire,” she said, continuing her story, “feeling all kinds of sorry for myself, when I realized I was being watched. I don’t know how long he’d been there, but as soon as I started freaking out, he stepped into the firelight. He lay down and just watched me for a while. Then, all of a sudden, he ran off. I thought, well, there he goes, my only friend—did I mention how pathetic I was at the time? About five minutes later, he shows back up with a rabbit. He walked up to me, calm as you please, and dropped dinner right into my lap.
“It was snowing, and his whiskers and lashes were dusted with flakes. These perfect ice crystals all over him.”
Vaughn smiled. “So you called him Frost.”
“Exactly. I had to shift to stay warm and I thought he’d run, but it didn’t bother him in the least. He slept next to the fire with me, nose to tail the whole night. I can’t tell you how comforting that was. The next day, when I tried to leave, he came with me. Followed me all the way to my car. Hopped right in when I opened the door and wouldn’t hear a thing about the proper places for wild animals.” She rubbed her forehead on Vaughn’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have made it without him.”
More than a little disturbed by their similar lines of thought on the matter, he said, “You made it together. And no, I don’t think you unwittingly cast a spell you don’t know and didn’t even believe in to make yourself a friend. I think that sometimes life throws us a bone. You and Frost needed each other, and the goddess helped you find one another. It must have been so hard, just the two of you. But you’re not alone anymore, you know. Either of you.”
&
nbsp; Her eyes, a blue as clear as a mountain spring, sparkled with unshed tears. Then she smiled and his breath caught. He was caught. And he never wanted to be free of her.
“Vaughn, what if—what if I never get any better?” She held up her gloved hands. “Sarah said there is no way to know if the effects will wear off or if I will get stronger. What if this is as good as it gets for my control?”
“Then we’ll deal with it. I know it sucks for you, but we’ll figure it out. Together.”
“I love you,” she said.
He kissed her hard on the mouth. “I love you, too. More than anything. Say you’ll stay. The winters are terrible, but I’ll keep you warm.”
She laughed and his heart flipped over in his chest. “Everyone thinks you have no sense of humor.”
Taking him by the hand, she led him back outside. She kept going until they were standing on the grass, under the stars.
“I’ll stay, under one condition,” she said, her face lit with moonlight and shimmering like pearls.
When she stroked a finger over the scar on his cheek, he realized that if she asked for his heart in her palm, he’d happily rip it out of his own chest and hand it to her. “What?”
“You promise to take me out flying again, but this time I’d like to be able to see. Zooming around on my back was a little disconcerting.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“Well, I don’t know. But it surely must have been something good.”
He swept her into his arms and buried his face in her neck, laughing his ass off.
She gave his side a light pinch. “Do you promise?”
“Oh, I promise. I promise anything you want.”
Her eyes lit up with mischief and she tapped one gloved finger on her mouth. “Hmm...”
He snatched her hand and nipped that finger. Then, he couldn’t maintain the joking facade. He needed her too much. “Be my mate, Hannah.”
She said the best word in the English language: “Yes.”
* * *
Vaughn took his time again stripping Hannah, kissing and caressing her until her head spun. It was driving her crazy.
“Vaughn, please,” she said. “I want to touch you. I need to touch you.”
He nipped the underside of her breast. “So touch. Whatever you can reach, baby.”
She whimpered. Okay, she whined. “I can’t until you get us both naked.”
He stopped and looked at her. “Oh.”
In seconds, they were both naked, his copper cuff tossed on the jumbled pile of their clothes.
“Better? Now you can touch me”—he drew her hand over his exquisite pecs—“as much as I can touch you.” She gasped as he ran a thumb around her nipple.
“You are so dangerous,” she said, and returned the favor, smiling at his hiss of breath.
For all their earlier joking and urgency, now, naked in each other’s arms, with no secrets between them, they were deliciously unhurried. Luke had promised the pack would patrol tonight and tomorrow, claiming Vaughn had earned a break. Hannah was more than happy to take advantage of her male’s focused attention.
She kissed him, tangling their tongues together in an erotic dance, while she stroked his broad back and played with the hair at his nape.
“Don’t stop,” he breathed against her lips. “Goddess, your hands.”
“I won’t. Not ever.”
Then, she set about mapping the valleys and plains of her mate’s body. The rough texture of his unshaven jaw; the smooth power of his shoulders, back, and arms; the crisp hair on his legs and lower abs; the velvet over steel of his cock.
Vaughn lost patience with her exploration then. Laying her down in the cool grass, he spread her legs and slid inside her in one long thrust. They both moaned. As he started to move within her, she spread her hands over his back and held on, unwilling to break contact with him for even an instant.
His breathing in her ear grew rougher and her pulse pounded in her throat.
She kissed his jaw. “I love you, Vaughn. I love you so much.”
He made an inarticulate sound and brushed the hair away from her neck. “Love you,” he said, his voice like sandpaper.
Fangs scraped over her skin until he reached the upper swell of her left breast. A rumbling growl vibrated from his chest into hers, and she writhed.
“Mate,” he said.
Then he bit her. She screamed her release to the night sky as he marked her, claiming her as his own.
Her wolf howled with joy and the sound spilled from Hannah’s throat. Vaughn lifted his head to watch her. Then, with her love driving into her in a primal dance, she kissed a spot right over his heart, before she marked him as hers.
As his blood touched her tongue, Vaughn roared and a place inside her chest grew and grew, filled with the light and love of her mate.
A while later, they lay together in the damp grass, legs and arms tangled. Vaughn held her hands pressed to his chest so they didn’t accidentally touch the ground and set off a vision.
Her wolf was ecstatic with the situation. She crooned to her mate, and Hannah was shocked when not one but two voices answered.
“What the hell was that?” Vaughn asked, his eyes gold and luminous. His mouth dropped open. “Holy shit. They’re not arguing. They always argue. Wolf and Eagle are... Jesus. They’re singing to her.”
As her wolf yipped in delight, Hannah closed her eyes and felt for that place in her heart where the mate bond had formed. She listened. Sure enough, her head filled with the shivery cries of a golden eagle and wolf song.
Vaughn drew her in tighter, and she sighed.
Safe in the arms of her mate, bathed in the light of the Thunder Moon.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Subject 622 crouched in his cage as the guards and staff scurried around like ants. There was a sense of urgency in the air. A scent of panic.
He hadn’t watched them so openly since the day he arrived. It invited attention.
Today was different.
No one was paying him any attention.
After a while, he wasn’t the only subject observing the observers. Across from him, Subject 617 knelt in the back of her cage. Her long black hair hung down like a curtain in front of her face, revealing one glowing orange eye. Huh. When had her eyes started doing that?
The Black Widow ran through the room—ran, not strode or hurried, even. She ran, barking orders, gathering supplies. She didn’t even have her tablet.
Some of the guards began removing subjects from their cages and leading them out the doors.
Now 622 started to worry.
Where were they taking them? They’d never run tests on so many subjects at once.
He sniffed the air. It was hard to tell. The lab always smelled wrong, like bleach and metal. And pain. He usually smelled like that. He wondered if the industrial scents were part of him now. Imbedded in his skin like the serums they kept forcing on him.
He sniffed again. Muddy, burning things, and rotten citrus. Confusion. Fear. Panic.
622 banged his hand against the front of his cage. It made a slapping noise on the strange glass. 624 and 613 turned startled eyes to him as they passed. The warlock guard leading them ignored him.
No punishment? Not even a harsh word?
617 crouched in the front of her cage, too, mirroring 622. She’d pushed her hair back behind her shoulders so that when she looked at him, he stared into twin orbs as brilliant as the sun.
She cut her eyes to the guards, then back to him. He nodded. He’d be ready.
When the Widow returned with her pet lion in tow, 622 and 617 were the only subjects left on the floor. “Make sure these two are on my personal transport. We leave in fifteen minutes. If you’re not on the helicopter by then, they may leave
you here to burn.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Burn?
The lion stopped at 622’s cage and banged a hand on the glass, right in front of his face. 622 fell back and the guard opened the door.
“Move it,” the guard said. He threw a pile of things at him. “Put those on. Hurry.” Then he did the same to 617.
Clothes. Light fabric shoes. A dark hooded sweatshirt. Dark blue pants and a shirt that looked like something the staff wore. The other subjects hadn’t been clothed like this. They’d still had on their hospital gowns.
It had been a long time since 622 had worn real clothes. He couldn’t remember when, actually, but not since he’d been in the lab. Had he worn things like these? He dressed quickly, the motions awkward, but also familiar. The shoes were too tight, but he managed.
When they were dressed, the lion grabbed them each by an arm and pushed them through the lab and out doors that stood unlocked and open. They went down a corridor 622 had never been through, and were shoved into an elevator.
“Leave me here to burn, bitch,” the lion muttered. “Got to load all the live rats. But first get them dressed. Don’t forget my files. Get my bag. Put these two on my helicopter. Should have a better evacuation plan.”
The guard continued his litany of complaints and didn’t even look at them. He had his back to them. 622 couldn’t understand. No guard had ever shown him his back. The cougar in his head stirred at this new development.
622 and 617 looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes. He shifted his body a bit to the right and she a bit to the left. Their hands brushed and he wrapped his little finger around hers. It was all he could do not to shout. He hadn’t touched or been touched by anyone in kindness or solidarity in...he couldn’t remember. But he must have, because he knew this feeling. It was amazing. He bit down hard on the inside of his mouth so he didn’t give them away.
The elevator stopped and the guard grabbed their arms again, dragging them along a dank tunnel that stank of field mice, rotting vegetation, and engine exhaust.
