“Why?” She heard Wyatt's voice, loud and clear.
Before Jeremy could respond, the steel door opened. She and Jeremy took defensive postures in the event they'd been breached. Then the door closed, and Cristían ran down the stairs with a bloodied Barry draped over his shoulder.
“Lock it down!” he ordered.
Jeremy already had his hand over the button. He smacked it hard, and the shields slipped into place.
“We've got Barry and are locked in,” he told Wyatt. “He's hurt.”
Blood covered Barry's face, trickled down his neck, and glistened on his black shirt. Barry's palms were bloodied too, probably from touching his wound—wherever it was. There was so much blood, Lupe couldn't see it.
Cristían placed him gently on the floor. She ran to the sink and wet as many paper towels as she could stuff in her hands. Cristían's gaze widened when she knelt next to the wounded man.
“I'm no longer afraid of water,” she explained and reached to clean Barry.
“Good to know,” Cristían muttered, then took a portion of the towels to help the man.
Barry's eyes fluttered open.
“He's coming around,” Jeremy told Wyatt.
Barry groaned, then squinted up at Cristían. “She coldcocked me when I left the basement. Bitch.”
“It was a planned action.” Cristían blotted the damp towel over Barry's face. “We're surrounded. Jeremy's on the phone with Wyatt now.”
“My phone.” Barry patted his pockets and struggled to sit. “I had it in my hand when she hit me. If she took it—”
Cristían pressed his shoulder back to the floor. “Relax. We'll find it later.”
Barry sighed, blinked again, and rolled his gaze Lupe's way. Confusion scrunched up his face. “What the… Lupe?”
“What's Lupe doing in the lab?” she heard Wyatt ask over the phone.
“Looks like first aid to me,” Jeremy replied. “See you soon.” He ended the call with one punch.
“What the hell have you two done?” Barry groaned and clutched his head.
“Here, let me clean that.” Lupe pulled his hand away. “I'm not afraid of water now.”
“O…kay.” Somehow he managed a smirk. “Puss.”
Lupe flicked her thumb against his nose. “Don't call me that. I hate it.”
“It is Lupe.” His gaze widened with the words, like he truly couldn't believe it. Then his dark eyes shadowed, a look Lupe was afraid to decipher.
“How…” Barry clamped his lips into a thin line and muffled a groan.
“Let's get you taken care of first.” Cristían parted Barry's hair. “You've got quite a gash there. Good thing your head's so hard.”
“Very funny.” He didn't sound amused.
Human sarcasm always mystified Lupe. She didn't really understand it. She wiped at Barry's neck, dislodging a silver button from the back of his collar. It clattered to the floor, drawing everyone's attention.
None of the men moved. Barry's eyes bulged out even more than they normally did. She drew breath to ask what was wrong. Cristían snapped his palm up to silence her before the words came out, then crushed the silver dot under his heel. Jeremy scooped it up and carried it away. The next sound she heard was the whoosh of the toilet flushing.
“I'll call Wyatt and let him know you were bugged,” Jeremy said when he returned.
“Bugged?” She screwed her face up. That looked like no bug she'd ever seen. It didn't have legs or a body—it wasn't even a bug, just some shiny piece. And why would someone want to put a bug on Barry's neck? Granted, she didn't like him, but bugs were for eating not wearing.
“A listening device, so they could spy on us here,” Jeremy said as he punched in Wyatt's number.
Ah…now she knew what detectives and spies meant.
“Well”—Cristían dabbed at Barry's head wound once more—“now we know why Frieda was all over you.”
Barry draped his forearm over his eyes. “And here I thought it was my charming personality.”
“But…you don't have one,” Lupe said.
“I know,” he replied. “And my self-respect is pretty much shot to hell too. But thanks for pointing it out…puss.”
Lupe grabbed his nipple through his silky black shirt and pinched as hard as she could. Barry squealed and tried to crawl away. Lupe held fast, and Cristían was smart enough to put a little distance between himself and them.
She shoved her face next to Barry's ear. “You don't know how sorry I am I no longer have claws. You might not have any self-respect left, but you will damn well start showing some respect for others. Especially me.” She gave his nipple a harder pinch, then let go and slapped the soggy paper towels in his face. “Tend yourself.” She pushed herself to her feet and strode toward the bathroom to clean the stench of his blood from her.
Chapter Seven
The birth of a queen.
Cristían couldn't compare Lupe's metamorphosis to anything else. Each minute, more of the self-confident woman emerged and the wide-eyed innocent faded. She stalked along the bank of surveillance equipment, monitoring every breath the mountain lions took. Her short legs ate up the distance in long strides that made her appear a foot taller. The pheromones before were nothing compared to this. Sex mingled with raw power. She was a jungle goddess on the hunt, ready to take down anyone who dared threaten her domain.
She was…irresistible.
Jeremy paced the line of televisions as well, his cock tenting his lab coat. Cristían had adjusted his erection three times when the press of denim threatened to break it in two. Even Barry, hurt as he was, had a hard-on ridging his pant leg.
“Any idea what she hit you with?” The head wound was long and looked deep. Profuse bleeding had finally slowed to a seep. Their people healed quickly, but life-threatening injuries were still life threatening.
“Not a clue. It happened so fast. She was a flash in my peripheral vision when I topped the stairs.” Barry winced and tried to sit. He wavered and lay back down. “Butt of a gun?”
Cristían folded up a lab coat, lifted Barry's head, and slid it under as a cushion. “If she'd had a gun, she would have shot you.”
“And risk you hearing it?”
“How could we hear anything down here? With a gun, there's little risk. If we ran up to investigate, she would have taken us out one by one.” At which point her team would have taken over the lab and retrieved all the research. He stole a quick glance at the monitors. The mountain lions had amassed enough manpower to mount an infiltration.
“I have a feeling she used a weapon of opportunity,” Cristían said. “Something she grabbed in the heat of the moment after she heard our conversation over her little bug. Alone and unarmed, she wouldn't have come into the basement.”
“She couldn't get in the basement. The cipher lock is changed every other day. They don't know that.” Barry clutched his stomach. “I think I'm going to be sick.”
Cristían jumped up for the biohazard trash can. He found it dented and empty, its contents strewn among the other debris from the explosion. He shoved it toward Barry in the nick of time.
“You've probably got a concussion.” He handed him a fresh paper towel to wipe his mouth. “At least you're still alive to complain about it.”
“Not for long, considering they've got us surrounded and outnumbered.”
It wasn't like Barry to be defeatist, even if the odds weren't in their favor. They never had been. The mountain lion clan outmanned the jaguar clan by at least three to one. Money and resources, though, gave the jaguars the upper hand. Greed and power struggles had been feeding wars for millennia. Why would their circumstances be any exception?
Frieda and her people had seen a tactical advantage, hoping to find Cristían and Jeremy alone in the lab. The mountain lions had the annoying ability to disguise themselves at will, to assume whatever human form they wished. He'd be willing to bet they'd intended to take over the estate, kill him and Jeremy, and assume their i
dentities. Two things stopped them: Frieda didn't have the code for the cipher lock and, therefore, couldn't get in to distract them and Barry's presence. That they'd apparently scrambled quickly to create an alternate plan meant they were damned organized.
“What the hell did you two do?” Barry groaned again and blotted the wet towel over his face.
“It was an accident.” No lie there. “Jeremy's experiment got away from him.” Cristían debated whether to search for the first aid kit or leave Barry as he was. As long as Barry's head remained supported on the lab coat, the wound was protected. There was little more Cristían could do. With luck, Barry's natural defenses would take over soon and jump-start the healing process.
Barry sighed. “Honestly I don't know what hurts most, my head or my cock. Pheromones are pouring off her.”
“Let's cover your eyes. It might help with the dizziness and the headache.” He folded a compress over Barry's eyes. “There's nothing I can do for the other.”
“She reeks of sex too.”
“Just doing what comes naturally,” he replied.
“Not to Jeremy.”
Cristían was glad Barry's eyes were covered. “You know how it is. It's easy to get caught up in the rush. He just came along for the ride.”
“For someone who was a cat… How long has it been, anyway?” He shoved his elbows under himself, preparing to push himself up.
Cristían held him down with a firm hand to the chest. “We aren't sure and haven't checked yet.”
“Hmmm.” Barry settled down. “Well, she seems very accommodating.”
“If you're entertaining any notions of her accommodating you, forget it. You aren't one of Lupe's favorite people. She'd be more inclined to snap your dick off at the root and shove it down your throat.”
The promise didn't wilt Barry. If anything, it made him harder. Barry's preference might be male, but he appreciated a powerful woman.
“I'm claiming her as mine. I won't share her with you.” If Barry doubted the words, Cristían's tone backed them up.
Barry snatched the compress from his eyes. A glare made his gaze as hard as his cock. “But you'll share her with Jeremy?”
Cristían gave a single nod. “Yes. We are one.”
For the single beat of his heart, Cristían swore he saw sadness in Barry's eyes. He masked it by replacing the compress.
“I hope our people get here soon.”
“Rest.” Cristían cupped his shoulder. “I'll see if there's been any progress.” He snagged the bio can as he stood and tossed the spent towels into it.
Lupe and Jeremy now paced in opposite directions, their gazes never wandering from the surveillance cameras. They flanked Cristían when he joined them, and it was all he could do to keep his hands off them. The heat…the scent…the want… Nature's aphrodisiac.
“They haven't moved a blink.” Lupe braced her fists on her hips, looking very much the warrior goddess.
“Did you determine how long it's been since the explosion?” he asked.
“You know how easily you and I lose track of time when we're working.” Jeremy crossed his arms and stood with legs shoulder-width apart, erection jutting out—the god to match Lupe's goddess. “If our laptops weren't in pieces, we might have been able to determine time by how much battery power was left.” He shrugged and slowly shook his head. “I can't begin to guess. If we're able to salvage the hard drives, we might have some estimate.”
Cristían was hoping for total destruction. Whatever mystery they'd unleashed was best left hidden. But it didn't look like it was going to play out that way. He grabbed his cell phone from the desk where Jeremy had placed it. “It's ten thirty right now, still the same day. What time did you get here, Barry?”
He rubbed at his eyes. “Seven.”
“And the explosion happened shortly thereafter. Was Frieda here when you arrived, or did she show up afterward?”
Barry shook his head. “I…can't remember. I walked in the front door, and then she was there behind me.”
Cristían nodded. It was just as he'd thought—a planned action. Why else would she be at the estate so early in the morning? To spy or attack? The lapse in time from explosion to now would have given her ample time to rouse her people. The bug she'd planted on Barry would have given her the ammo to do so.
“Do you think she and her people were responsible for the explosion?” Barry asked.
Cristían wished it were as simple as that. “I don't know. Let's hope this is resolved without any more blood being spilled. Wyatt and Joaquin are here.” They watched as a gray hybrid SUV pulled into the drive, and Joaquin's red crew-cab truck was right behind, followed by a dusty green Jeep Cherokee that had seen better days.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Jeremy said and started another lethal pace.
Cristían knew it was the jaguar in Jeremy sensing the fight. Waves of anxiety drifted from Lupe as well. Her tension pulled Cristían's nerves taut too.
“Who is it?” Barry grunted as he struggled to his feet.
“Steven Bernard is behind them.” The de facto leader of the mountain lion clan. A thankless job, as far as Cristían was concerned. Had they met under different circumstances, Cristían and Steven might have been good friends. He genuinely liked the man, liked the fact that he was serious about uniting their clans and finding ways for them to coexist. There were times in the beginning of their clans' association that Cristían considered extending his hand in friendship. Life and grief had swept his intent away. Now, seeing Steven trailing Wyatt and Joaquin up that long drive, Cristían was glad he hadn't.
Steven's presence raised alarms and the hairs on the back of Cristían's neck. On the surface, it looked like a complete coup—one team had taken control of the Prentice estate, while another moved in on the Braden Science Institute. He smacked his forehead. How could they have been so oblivious?
Cristían cautioned himself against premature conclusions. He'd been given insight; it might be nice if he tried to use it. Nicer still if he could remember it all.
The four of them silently watched as the vehicles wove up the ribbon of driveway. Cameras along the way showed Wyatt, Joaquin, and Steven in their own vehicles. From just a quick glance inside, Cristían saw others in the vehicles as well. Jaguar clans with their own, mountain lions with their own; nothing to suggest force. Tension still coiled in his belly and settled in his loins. He ached from the wait. Testosterone pumped through his veins with a life of its own. Cristían couldn't help it. His hand moved of its own volition, idly stroking his cock. He didn't give a damn who saw. He might not be the alpha, but he was a leader of men, and he had a right to prepare for battle as he chose. Who knew when he'd live to fight another day? Pleasure was a gift from the gods, meant to honor. In doing so, they might grant their warriors favor in what was to come.
The thought stopped him cold. How easy it was to fall back on old beliefs. The truth hovered over Cristían's head in that spinning ball of gold. He just didn't know what to do with it. Or how to access it when needed.
He hooked his thumb through his jean belt loops. The vehicles pulled to a stop in the apron of driveway in front of the sprawling mansion—itself an homage to old beliefs. The men piled out of the vehicles. Steven's blond head, and those of the two men with him, stood out in the sea of dark brown. No weapons were in sight.
Wyatt and Steven briefly exchanged words, then strode toward the right side of the house. Joaquin was never far from Wyatt's side. He wouldn't be unarmed, no matter what Wyatt ordered. Joaquin always had at least a knife on him.
“They are mad, but not at each other,” Lupe said. She'd spent her whole life watching the behavior of others. Cristían knew that her instincts would be honed to a very fine edge. Her survival depended on accuracy. “I see worry, confusion, fear, distrust.”
“Excellent assessment, little warrior,” Cristían told her.
He watched her chin lift a notch, but her gaze remained on the monitors.
&nb
sp; They tracked the party's progress from camera to camera. Held their breath when Steven and his two men strode away and to one line of bushes. Wyatt and Joaquin stayed near the house, their backs to the camera. The other jaguar men fanned out but didn't go far.
Halfway across the yard, Steven stopped. The lift of his broad shoulders indicated he'd called out. The response was instant—two mountain lion men charged forward, semiautomatic weapons clutched in their hands. Steven's back muscles bunched beneath his tan cotton shirt. The message was clear.
“He fears they'll kill him.” Lupe's observation was on the mark.
The jaguar clan was right in the line of fire behind Steven; all their backs were against the wall. Cristían prayed they hadn't run into a trap. Wyatt was usually more cautious.
“If they open fire, you three get to Joaquin's truck and get the hell out of here. He always leaves the keys in the ignition, just in case.”
“What about our men?” Barry demanded to know.
“Those are semiautomatic weapons.” Cristían jerked his finger toward the monitor. “They're surrounded, with nowhere to run. They're as good as dead.”
“And where do you expect to be, while we're running for our lives?” Barry yelled, then clutched his head and staggered.
Jeremy braced Barry and cast Cristían a sidelong glance that clearly asked the same question.
“There's Frieda!” Lupe pointed at the monitor.
The woman stormed from cover toward the men. Those with weapons gave her wide berth and clear access to Steven. Flailing her arms, she hurled words at her clansman. Steven's stance remained rigid. This was why Cristían had liked the man so well—his grace under pressure, his grace…period. But even the best of men had their tipping point, and it looked like Steven had finally reached his.
Steven waited until Frieda finished her tirade, then executed a crisp turn and strode toward Wyatt and Joaquin. Frieda ran to keep up with him, nearly colliding into his back when he stopped.
More words were exchanged. Demands and counters that ended with them staring at each other. If they'd been in cat form, Cristían knew they'd be circling for attack. Both sides squared their shoulders on a sharp intake of breath. Cristían could almost feel their nostrils flaring. He clenched his fists. Sharp claw points poked his palms. A deep-throated rumble from Jeremy alerted him Jeremy's control was slipping.
Into the Heart 3: Into the Wild Page 6
