by Dianna Love
But damn, just the idea of anyone else touching her had his jaguar rumbling and his gut in knots. What the hell was wrong with him?
He only needed to find out why her touch had healed him.
This punched-in-the-gut sensation didn’t feel like that was the only reason, but he would not stand in the way of a Gallize getting a mate.
They thought she was crazy, but she’d just been ... sweet. And brave. And scared.
The Guardian walked over and extended his hand to Scarlett. “Thank you for your alliance. We’ll form a team immediately to locate this woman.”
Scarlett stood and shook his hand. “You’re welcome. I hope this turns out to be a good thing for all of us. I’ll see what I can shake out on any tiger shifter and let Tess know what I find.”
Tess said, “I’ll walk out with you.”
Once those two left, the Guardian announced, “Cole and Justin, I want to see you in the conference room.”
Rory struggled to stand, which started his leg throbbing after sitting for so long. “Sir, I’d like to join that meeting.”
“No.” With that final word, Cole, Justin and the Guardian walked out.
Ferrell sent Rory an image of the woman who had haunted his dreams last night. Again, she smiled and took off into the woods, but this time she ran into the wide-open jaws of some monster with blood dripping from its fangs.
Rory leaned on his cane and looked down at his aching leg. Could he shift and heal it faster? Would it even heal any more on its own?
Asking to be put on this team might push his boss to lock Rory away in Wyoming until he remembered who ran this operation. Any shifter with a lick of good sense could see there was no changing the Guardian’s mind.
“Shit,” Rory muttered and hobbled forward.
No one ever accused him of having good sense.
Chapter 10
Siofra grabbed her head. It felt twice its normal size, just like her thick tongue. She licked her dry lips and blinked, trying to get her eyes to focus, but there wasn’t much light. Her body registered being in a prone position, on a mattress no more comfortable than the one she’d slept on in the camps.
No, please don’t be a camp bed.
Squinting, she lifted her head and saw blank walls in the semi-darkness. Not really blank. One wall, an arm’s length away, had a single word carved into it with a sharp object.
Help! The letters were jagged as if created in panic.
Her skin pebbled with a chill that started in her chest. Not the camp, but where was she?
Was it still Monday?
Was she still in Pittsburgh?
Ambient light filtered through a glass panel on a very sturdy looking steel door. As her eyes adjusted, that small window allowed her enough light to see the room better.
She struggled to sit up. Her arms shook and were weak as noodles.
Sliding her legs over the side of the single bed, she clutched the edge as she eased her way to a sitting position.
What time was it?
Better yet, what day was it?
A paper cup of water had been placed on the floor.
If they wanted to kill her, they could have done it while she was passed out. Why poison her?
She suffered a moment of dizziness when she leaned over and lifted the water. It sloshed in her trembling hand. She sipped the refreshing liquid even though it was warm.
Another wave of dizziness hit her and she nearly dropped the cup. Lying down again seemed like a good idea.
She’d barely eased back onto the mattress when a noise in the hallway reached her. She let the cup fall to the floor and became perfectly still. Would that be someone coming to see her? What had she done to end up here?
She lowered her eyelids until she could peek while appearing asleep.
The flick of the lock sounded, then the door opened and two men stepped in, pulling the door shut softly.
Both wore lab coats above dark trousers, but nothing about those two fit her idea of hospital personnel.
One stood over six feet tall, had olive skin, dark eyes and thick black hair combed straight back. He had the frightening face of mobsters, but he didn’t look Italian. He seemed more Latin. A scar split his eyebrow, giving her hope he was not a shifter even though she’d seen some with scars, but every speck of her intuition said she needed to run.
His badge identified him as Dr. Rabinowitz.
Oh, sure, and she was the queen of England.
Shorter by an inch, his partner had similar Latin features except for the blond hair spiking out of dark roots across his head. He wore a diamond earring in one ear and a sneer she bet had been there since birth. He’d stolen the ID badge of Dr. Wexler.
While pseudo Wexler watched the window on the door, Rabinowitz wannabe approached Siofra. “I know you are awake.”
She’d like to say she moved fast as a ninja to leap away from him, but an honest person would say she resembled a frightened crab with arthritic legs.
He stopped as she squeezed herself as tightly as she could into the corner. His words had a Latin accent. “You are hard woman to find.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Is not important.”
“Are you shifters?”
From over by the door, the Wexler one laughed. “Hell, no.”
This was bad, but maybe not Black River pack bad since they weren’t shifters, if they had told the truth.
The Cadells could have sent them.
Either way, these men were not here for her benefit.
Under her breath, Siofra murmured, “I need help. Please, spirits of light, show yourself now if you’re nearby.”
A glimmer of energy began forming next to her bed.
Pretend Rabinowitz stared at Siofra with suspicion.
A young female ghost in an oversized hospital gown that drooped off one shoulder appeared. Her frizzy hair jutted out in all directions as if she’d never been introduced to a brush. She was missing all but three teeth and paused in licking the bottom of a boot to grin at Siofra.
When her lips moved, a childlike voice spoke in Siofra’s mind. Pickles and hotdogs for lunch. Can’t be late.
Siofra’s shoulders sagged with defeat.
What had she expected? The spirit of a Special Forces operative to be walking these halls, who would tell her how to knock these guys out and get past the hospital staff?
If only.
Phony Rabinowitz muttered, “Do not start shit with me. I heard you were crazy and talked to spirits. If you had not caused a scene near the homeless mission, we wouldn’t have had to come here for you.”
Crap, that’s why the ghosts had been trying to stop her.
He pulled his hand from his jacket and tossed dust at her.
Sparkles flickered in front her eyes. She tried to jerk back, but she had nowhere to go in the corner. The dust remained suspended in the air surrounding her face.
With no idea that had been coming, she inhaled in reaction, sucking the dust in.
Lights swirled around her. The spirit floated in and out of focus, lips still moving.
Siofra couldn’t hear the woman. She also couldn’t control her arms or legs. She crumpled to her side, hitting the bed in a heap, vaguely aware of being picked up and tossed over a shoulder.
The man carrying her moved forward and the floor blurred past.
The door opened.
Someone shouted, then she heard the fake Wexler doctor tell his sidekick that he had this.
The big guy carrying her slowed. A flash brightened everything for a second, then dimmed. The guy toting her picked up speed again. He stepped over two men in white pants and shirts.
Well, hell. Would she end up back with the Cadells after all?
Baatar would be so disappointed and that hurt even more.
Her vision blurred then returned to focus. What had been in that dust?
Warm air blew up her hospital gown and she blinked to sort out the dark surroundings. Dim illumina
tion from streetlights touched the sidewalk, grass and then the pavement. Then the sound of a car door being opened sounded loud to her ears.
He dumped her limp body inside ... a van. Not a car.
She had to get out of here, but her body would not obey her mind. She couldn’t make even her toe twitch.
One of them asked, “Think we should shackle her?”
“Sure. Better to play it extra safe so we don’t lose her. They said she had some freaky power, so no telling what she might try to do when that dust wears off.”
The Wexler wannabe leaned into the rear of the van, still as surly looking as he’d been in her room. He pulled her limp body around and yanked her arm up.
“Ouch.” That’s what she thought she said, but it came out as a garbled groan.
When he reached over her body to yank her other arm up, she saw the inside of his wrist where he had a tattoo of a snarling wolf.
She’d been kidnapped by magic users aligned with a Black River pack. She screamed in her head, rocking back and forth all alone in the cargo area.
How had they found her? How would they even know?
The Cadells had told them.
The ride seemed to take forever, though in truth she had no concept of time. She didn’t waste her energy trying to fight the shackles. When the van finally stopped, it was even darker here than outside the hospital she’d been in.
Spike opened the rear doors and removed her shackles, leaning close to give her a warning. “That’s not the only magic my buddy and I use. Don’t push me to pull out something vicious.”
Point taken. She nodded.
Two shifters, because she recognized the unnatural look in their eyes, dragged her from the van and over to where someone hit her full blast with cold water. She tried to hunch into herself, but the wolves held her arms in their immovable grip.
When the brutal bath ended, the last of the dust was out of her system. They walked her through the compound. Where was she? The only building looked to be a large wooden house, not tall, but spread out. Lights blazed inside.
She tried to take in everything, remembering what Baatar had taught her about escaping any situation if she ever got out of the work camp and got caught.
First, she had to be aware of all possible exits.
She could only find one and it was the way she’d entered.
As doors opened ahead of her, the two shifters walked her into a room where a man stood behind a desk. He wore fatigues and had a heavy brown beard to match his dark-brown hair. When he glanced up, she stared into the glowing yellow eyes of his wolf.
Her heart thumped out of control and she knew from living around jackals that every shifter in this area could hear her heart rate.
Their boss cocked his head and smiled. “You should be very afraid. I am Hector. You put me through a lot of trouble to locate you. The Cadells said if I found you, they would trade you for Baatar.”
She was too stunned to think. Hector, as in Mad Dog Hector? Everyone in the camps had heard the horrible stories about this animal. He was the crazy wolf shifter who cut pieces off a body to see how long he could keep someone alive without all their parts.
The guard on her right backhanded her.
She fell to the floor and grabbed her throbbing face. He could have killed her if he’d hit her harder, but she couldn’t drag up appreciation for being hit with only half his strength.
The other guard jerked her back to her knees.
Hector said, “That is your only warning to lower your gaze and show respect.”
She looked at the rough wood floor that needed to be swept and nodded, unable to get a word out. If she needed to act subservient to bide her time, she would. She’d bitten her tongue. Blood trickled from her lip and the jaw she cupped was already swelling.
Hector said, “Give her water.”
After a series of footsteps, a guard handed her a cup of water. She rinsed her mouth out and spit back into the cup, turning it pink with her blood.
But now she could talk. “I’d like to—“
A guard grabbed a wad of her hair and twisted her head back with a claw at her throat.
She dropped the cup and fisted her hands. “Please let me—“
“Why should anyone listen to your pleas?” Hector asked with amusement in his words. “You have made many angry. First, the Cadells are furious that you killed a jackal.”
“No, I—”
“Shut. Up.”
The guard holding her hair twisted it tighter.
She kept her lips closed, but tears burned her eyes. Don’t interrupt the insane man while he’s speaking from his private podium.
Hector continued his oration, which had to be for the benefit of the ten shifters standing around the room. “You think I care if you kill a jackal? The jackal pack he belonged to may want your blood, but me? I would reward you with an extra meal for killing one. The Cadells are not so happy with your deceit.”
What deceit? Her confusion must have shown in her face.
Hector explained, “Your power. You never showed any signs of your power before killing that guard. If you had, they would have sold you to me for a pretty penny, but once you escaped you became fair game for everyone. Then there are the humans. You caused a wreck in the middle of Pittsburgh. Everyone will want to sue you for the damage. You should thank me for saving you those problems.”
Damage did not sound like deaths. For that, she was thankful, but not for this miserable scum capturing her.
“Now we come to your greatest crime.”
What could possibly top all of that in his eyes?
“You helped Baatar escape. We have been in negotiations for over a year on that one. The Cadells kept holding out until now. We had just reached an agreement when you two escaped.”
Baatar? He got away? He got away!
She had to get out of here and find him.
He had plenty of muscle and speed to outmaneuver anyone, but he’d kept his mental and physical issues to himself until he’d had one around Siofra. His troublesome episodes had gotten worse in recent weeks. With her help, he’d kept his sporadic loss of control hidden from the Cadells, but he needed someone to protect him when he lost touch with reality.
They were a pair, for sure, but he was hers to watch over.
She had an idea, but first she had to convince Hector to trust her.
With her hair pulled back so tightly, she could only squeak out, “I can help you.”
Hector snapped his fingers and the guard freed her.
Siofra lowered her chin and stared hard at Hector’s boots so she could keep an eye on his face in her peripheral vision. “Cadells are never going to give you Baatar. Not for me. Not for ten of me unless you pay them a ton of money as well. But I can find Baatar, save you all that money.”
“Why would you?” Hector’s eyes turned black with suspicion.
“I want to find him as much as you do. I had no idea he had also escaped, but it’s perfect timing to blame it all on me. If I help you find him, I want a blood oath you will allow me to walk free.” These wolves would never let her leave or give her a true blood oath. She just needed to make them think she believed the deal would work.
Hector didn’t appear to be sold yet. She had to be careful. Shifters could smell a lie. She pushed her gaze lower to the floor. “I’ve spent years as a Cadell captive only to have a jackal try to rape me to make me pregnant even after they determined I’m infertile.” Maybe knowing she couldn’t be used as a breeder would keep lowering her value to them.
He studied her a moment. “I still do not see the reason you would betray Baatar?”
“Who is he to me?” she sneered, keeping her eyes averted, which was good because her face might give her away. “What would you do if someone killed the person you love?” she asked.
Baatar had done no such thing, but this wolf should not be able to find a lie in that.
“I would gut him.”
She shrugged. “I c
an’t do that. I’m not a killer.” Smiling hurt, but she had to look the part of some evil crazy person when she lifted her gaze. “Handing him over to the Black River pack would be far worse.”
If she could cross her fingers, she would.
Chapter 11
Southwestern corner of West Virginia
Rory rubbed his calf to ease the ache still stinging there. He had a killer headache from lack of sleep and a foul mood that matched his jaguar’s usual nasty attitude. Ferrell liked the dark. He wanted out to run through these woods. It had been a long Monday and it wasn’t over yet. Rory could not get his jaguar to be quiet while there was nothing to do but wait.
The team had arrived around nine. Had to be ten by now and they still didn’t know if they’d located the woman they’d been sent to retrieve.
He intended to find a soft bed and crash out for days once this was done, but not until he knew for sure his little white-haired nymph was safe.
Ferrell snarled again. Mate.
His jaguar was losing its ever-lovin’ mind.
Justin and Cole, also in human form, sat a few feet away.
If the compound they observed tucked deep in this forest turned out to be a Black River pack location, their rule to not shift might change. Little air moved, but it was actually cooler tonight in this corner of West Virginia than it had been in Spartanburg.
He owed Justin for this, especially after cursing the bear under his breath when the Guardian refused to allow Rory to go on this mission.
In fact, when Rory pushed his way into the meeting, the boss had warned he was seriously considering putting Rory into a static state so he could finish healing.
At the idea of being put into the equivalent of a medically induced coma by the powerful eagle shifter, Rory’s jaguar had almost pushed out of him.
Justin must have realized Rory had a problem at that moment. He’d smoothly bumped the topic away from Rory’s health. “Why do you want to go on this mission?”
“It’s more that you need me to be there. That young woman has power unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. She killed a jackal just by putting her hands on it, but she claims to have no control over the power. Even so, she didn’t harm me. I think she trusts me after I pulled those jackals off of her.”
