by Dianna Love
“Fair enough.” Vic reached into the cargo hold and pulled out a towel holding some electronic drives. He shook those loose and whipped the towel open, then wrapped them around her hands and used a looped zip tie to secure it.
The pilot started to reach for her arm and pulled back. “Are you like touching a lightning rod?”
“No. I just ... my hands carry energy. I think.”
He reached around to his back pocket, pulled on a black pair of gloves, then cupped her arm and led her to the helicopter where he helped her up the steps.
When Hawk had her seated, he pulled a harness over her and clipped it into place.
She doubted that was to keep her safe, but more to prevent her from getting up and moving around. Hawk was taking no chances around her. She’d never felt more of a pariah than right now.
Vic called to Hawk, who dashed out of the helicopter. Then the two of them carried Rory in and draped him over a seat across from her.
She leaned forward, whispering, “Rory—”
Vic stepped in front of her, which forced her to sit back so she could look up at his angry face. He said, “Don’t touch him, don’t talk to him, don’t even fucking think his name.”
Why had her power hurt the one man who looked at her as if she were special? She wished she could rip this energy from her body.
Hawk dove into the pilot’s seat and flipped levers. The rotors powered up, spinning faster.
She’d never ridden in a helicopter and didn’t want to now. Heights made her sick because of a bad memory with a jackal. She tried to keep her mind on Rory.
What if he died?
Her chest seized at that thought. Energy rushed through her body like an electrical wave. If she could trade places with him, she would.
She had a frightening thought of him lying cold in a coffin and ... the force inside her strengthened and expanded. It was fiery, burning her from the inside out. Was the energy going to kill her now?
Would she explode and destroy the helicopter.
No! No more deaths! What had caused this reaction?
She’d been thinking about Rory dying.
Stop thinking about that, she ordered mentally. Think of anything nice or more people will die.
She grasped for the first idea and conjured an image of Rory happy and walking alongside her ... at the beach. Yeah, the beach was calm, right? Not that she’d ever been to one, but the pictures in travel ads had looked inviting.
Her energy slowed. It didn’t go away, but neither did it continue to press against every inch of her body.
Since that worked, she leaned back and closed her eyes. She was on the ground, sand actually, at the beach. She envisioned Rory splashing in the water like a kid, which did not fit the stern man lying across from her.
She opened her eyes to check on him. He was so pale and barely breathing.
Outside the window, she saw only clouds.
Her stomach roiled and her palms dampened.
The panic raising her blood pressure and causing nausea agitated her energy.
Crap. Okay, she closed her eyes. Where had she been with her mind-over-panic control? Rory had been yelling at her to join him in the water or he’d toss her in.
Her heart bashed against her insides, reminding her she was not on the ground.
Focus, she ordered herself. Now was not the time for a panic attack. Back to Rory and the beach. She smiled at him, but shook her head that she didn’t want to get wet. He took a step toward her.
Squealing, she ran as hard as she could, but he caught her at the waist and swung her around, laughing out loud. She marveled at his rich sound of joy.
Then he lowered her to the sand and turned her to face him.
He was no longer laughing. His eyes flashed golden and he cupped her face as he lowered his head, taking her lips on a fantasy vacation. The man could kiss. This wasn’t just a kiss, though. It was a devouring. She ran her hands up his chest and hooked his neck, pulling him closer.
His hands had a few ideas of their own and were taking her bikini top off.
She owned a bikini?
He yanked the whip of material away and oh, yes, her breasts begged for him to touch her.
She rubbed up against his chest, teasing him, but torturing herself. “Please ... ”
“Please what?” a rough voice snapped.
She blinked her eyes open and found Vic’s snarling face staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
What had she said ... or done?
Her body was on fire, but she couldn’t blame it on the energy that had receded. No, her little fantasy trip with Rory had left her hot and bothered. Her hands were clenched. She relaxed her fingers as much as she could with the towel wrapped around them.
She almost thanked Vic for containing her hands so she hadn’t unconsciously given herself relief. That was the sexiest mental breakdown she could ever recall.
Giving Vic a little thrill would have been the freaking dog turd cherry on this shitty day.
Her breathing hadn’t quite steadied.
Shifters could smell a woman’s arousal. Had Vic realized what she’d been thinking? If so, he didn’t show any sign of it, still scowling every time he looked at her. He’d reach over and check Rory’s pulse from time to time, but other than that he was quiet as a stone.
Why had thinking about Rory dying upset her energy?
Why had thinking about him being happy made it back off?
This power inside her just hit a whole new level of weird. The only positive thing at the moment was no spirit riding beside her as they flew through the air.
She asked, “Can I have some water?”
“No. You’ll survive. Can’t say the same about Rory.”
She slumped in her seat and avoided the window. The helicopter was steady, but her stomach didn’t care. She wanted out, but not up in the air.
She clasped her clammy hands and put all her attention on Rory, studying his chiseled face. He was all harsh lines and rough edges. Was there a softer, fun side of him like she’d imagined?
What made him happy?
Her breathing slowed down as thinking about him calmed her fears.
Rory had held her when no one had ever held her. Stolen moments with the teenage boy hadn’t allowed time for cuddling. Baatar was a wonderful man, but he got uncomfortable if she cried, like when a child she cared about had been taken from the camp. Where was that child now?
Good news for Baatar was that she didn’t melt down often. She’d sure felt like a water bucket over the past twenty-four hours, but damn, she was not cut out to kill people.
Not even if they deserved it as Baatar and Rory had said.
No more tears. Time to buck up and find a way out of this mess, but not until she knew for sure Rory would survive.
The trip took hours, but she had no idea how many. She didn’t have a watch and had refused to do anything but think about Rory. She’d created one long running story about the two of them and by the time the chopper landed, she didn’t want to leave it.
As the rotors slowed, she got her nerve back to look out the window. They’d landed on top of a building, but not a tall one. Maybe two stories. Lights burned across a city. What time would it be? Three in the morning or later?
Where had they taken her?
Four large men dressed in dark fatigues and T-shirts similar in style to what Vic and Hawk wore greeted the helicopter. Another man stood behind them with his head turned toward the helicopter, but she couldn’t see his face.
She blinked to clear her vision and still couldn’t make out his face. Was he doing something to shield his face?
Forgetting about him, she watched as men came aboard with medical equipment. These wouldn’t be standard doctors who worked on humans or Vic would have taken Rory to a hospital before flying out.
Shifters avoided hospitals, from what she’d learned over years around the jackals.
Humans could not help them.
In l
ess than a minute, Rory disappeared behind all that muscle as they carried him off and placed him on a stretcher. She could see only because she extended her neck to the point the harness cut into her.
One of the men wheeled Rory’s motionless body away, slowing only when they reached the man standing by himself. His face still would not come into focus.
Every man out there behaved as if that faceless guy was some kind of god.
He had to be their leader. The powerful healer Rory mentioned. Her heart jumped with hope that his leader would bring Rory back to them.
After the man finished looking over Rory, he nodded at Vic and said something. All of the team except for the pilot entered an access door and disappeared from the roof.
Their leader headed for the helicopter.
Oh shit.
Her heart dropped to her feet. What would he do to her? Vic had surely told him she had harmed one of his men. Rory said he and his team had been sent to bring her back safely, right?
Nothing about the way that man walked toward the helicopter gave her a sense of comfort.
Hawk didn’t turn to look at her. He now maintained a rigid position compared to his casual manner while flying here. As their leader reached the steps to the cabin, Hawk jumped up and stood in the doorway, looking down the steps. “Hello, sir.”
“Hawk.”
“Would you like me to stay?”
“Yes. Please wait nearby.”
“Yes, sir.” Hawk stepped back as his boss entered, then dashed out of the helicopter.
Their leader had seemed big on the tarmac. In here, she felt the oxygen pushed out as his presence took up every cubic inch, especially since she could now see his face clearly.
When he moved to take the seat across from her, that blasted energy in her chest swirled but didn’t charge forward, thankfully.
He lifted his gaze to her and her heart wanted to just quit.
He had the eyes of an ... eagle? Was he an eagle shifter? She’d seen plenty of shifter eyes glow and begin to change to their animal’s eyes, but his pair seemed to be permanently fixed.
That couldn’t be good. Not for her.
When he spoke, he had a refined baritone that belonged to a much older man than the one who appeared to be in his forties.
On the other hand, his mature voice matched the ancient eyes. He said, “As I understand it, you are the woman we were asked to locate, rescue from kidnappers and bring safely to Spartanburg.”
So she was in Spartanburg? She had some memory of that city being in one of the Carolinas, but she couldn’t say for sure. “So I’ve been told, but I don’t know anyone here.”
Any other time, she might have smarted off just from being so weary, but she had enough survival sense to realize she faced a serious threat.
At his silence, she clarified, “I don’t know you, your men or who asked you to come get me.”
“I understand. The problem is that while guarding you, Rory has become seriously harmed. I could not rouse him.”
She heard the unspoken part where this man had the kind of power that should have brought Rory awake. Crap.
He asked, “What did you do to him?”
How to answer his question and not put her butt in deeper trouble with the only person in her corner unconscious?
When she’d tried to explain what happened with Vic, her words only incriminated her further. If she admitted she had been trying to heal Rory with her powers, she could be put to death for use of a deadly power on another person if Rory didn’t make it. She’d heard that talked about in the camps after humans passed the law.
Baatar would be losing his mind if he knew she was in this much trouble for helping a shifter.
Rory was the only one who could get her out of this mess. For now, she kept it simple and said, “I honestly can’t tell you what happened, but I had no intention of harming Rory.”
“Part of that is true and part is not.”
But she had told the truth. She really did not know why her power turned on Rory.
Desperate for any friendly face, Siofra said, “I don’t know who knew about me being captured, so could I please talk to that person?”
Eagle man sat so still she started wondering if he had petrified.
When he did move, he turned his head oddly, as a bird would, which startled her so much she jerked. She hadn’t actually jumped only because she remained strapped into the seat.
Movement outside the window drew her attention. Vic walked back to the helicopter and Hawk strode out to meet him.
“You will speak to the person who sent us,” eagle man said, whipping her head back to him.
“I hear a but at the end of that.” She’d tried to keep her tongue in her head, but she was tired and wanted to find out what happened to Rory.
“But not until Rory recovers.”
Lots and lots of scary warning in that statement.
He said, “You will be held in our building until I’ve determined whether Rory will survive.”
“I want nothing more than for Rory to be healthy and awake.” Find a lie in that, eagle man. “How long are you holding me?”
“Not long.”
She could almost hear the tick, tick, tick as time wound down until this man decided he had waited long enough. As threats went, that one scared the hell out of her.
How did she manage to find a worse situation no matter where she landed?
Baatar would tell her because she refused to put herself first and kept jumping in to help people.
She couldn’t change who she was and only regretted harming Rory. She did not regret agreeing to try to fix his leg.
Her first goal was still to get free and find Baatar. Now that she knew he had escaped, she knew where her brother would be headed. But she needed Rory to open his eyes first and let her know he was fine. She needed that more than anything right now.
None of that would happen while she was trussed up in this seat. She asked eagle man, “If I promise to keep my hands to myself, can I have the cuffs removed?”
“Not until you are contained in the building where I can prevent you from harming anyone else.”
She didn’t want to touch anyone.
Eagle man had made that statement as if he had zero doubt he could stop any power, even hers.
She didn’t know if she should question his mental state for making that comment without having had any experience with her energy or be terrified that this man was so powerful he didn’t need to know what she could do.
He didn’t change his quiet tone when he said, “Vic?”
That shifter was up the steps and in the cabin faster than any jackal shifter she’d been around could move.
Who were these people?
“Sir?” Vic stood at ready and he had a wad of black material in his grasp.
“Now that I’ve met her, you and Hawk deliver her to the holding center.”
“Yes, sir.”
When eagle man stood up, Vic asked, “Did you receive the report about her working with the Black River pack?”
“Not true,” she muttered.
Vic had a dismissive glint in his eyes. “Our people interrogated him. There is no lying to us.”
“Then he’s misstating what happened.” Argue with that truth.
Vic’s boss turned to her. “Again, you speak the truth, but not all of it. Lying by omission is still lying.”
What did these people think? That she should just open up like they were all friends?
Sure, Rory and his buddies appeared to be the good guys, but she had zero reason to trust this eagle. Getting flown to some unknown location and locked up in a “holding center” did not give her a warm and fuzzy feeling. She’d told this man all she could short of admitting she’d experimented with an unknown power in an attempt to heal Rory.
Without Rory’s testimony, she faced death for that.
Eagle man said, “For your sake, I hope you can explain yourself in a way that clears your actio
ns. If not, and especially if Rory does not recover, you will not have to worry about running from anyone ever again.” With that, he left.
Continuing his scary guard gig, Vic walked in and shoved a black bag over her head.
She squeaked at the unexpected action and grumbled, “I don’t even know where Spartanburg is.”
Vic said, “Let’s keep it that way.”
At least she was done flying, but she’d never felt so vulnerable. The sound of her harness unsnapping came next, then his hand hooked her arm, pulling her to her feet.
She walked through balmy early morning air to eight steps descending into cooler air conditioning.
Her hospital gown had dried, but it did little to keep her warm. Her teeth chattering might be a delayed reaction to all that had happened as much as to the chilly air.
They stopped and a whoosh sound followed, then he moved her two steps ahead where the sound happened again and the movement felt as if she descended.
An elevator?
Must be, but it kept going and going when she would have thought they’d reached the street level by now.
Her mind kept returning to Rory. He had to get better. Not just to save her hide, but because he mattered to her in a way she couldn’t explain. Whenever that man touched her, her world shifted a little more toward center.
Her energy had seemed to really like Rory’s energy, which made what happened even stranger. Every time she got around him, he left her feeling better about herself. That she deserved to be treated as a person who mattered. Maybe even that he cared.
He would live.
He would open his eyes and smile at her again.
He would tell her this would all work out.
The elevator stopped and the doors made a soft noise again. Vic led her down a long hall that smelled clean. Were her feet leaving dirty footprints on the cool floor? Felt like tile.
When he stopped, she didn’t hear a lock being opened by a key, but the next thing she knew he’d walked her forward and pulled the bag off her head.
Four white walls. One single bed, nicer than her camp cot, though. Clean sheets, a pillow and a light blanket. A water bottle and a snack bar.
