“My boots,” she muttered.
“Hot,” Riley muttered, tugging away her hand so he could grip her hips and ease her onto him slow and easy.
Trembling, she held on to his shoulders and decided she’d died and gone to heaven. The man was simply magnificent—possessiveness, dominance, and all. He was also hers. If only she could figure a way out of the minefield between them.
Riley stroked his hand through the silky red hair spread across his chest. It was a kick to the gut to see Mercy here, in his domain. The wolf wanted to bite her again, not to hurt, never to hurt. Just to make sure she really was here.
Then she stirred, scratching her claws lightly over his skin in lazy affection. “I still have my boots on.”
He grinned. “A naked redhead with her boots on. Nirvana.”
“Smart-ass.” A kiss pressed over his heartbeat, a hand stroking across his chest, playing with his chest hairs in a way that was very feline. Petting him, he thought. She was petting him. He wasn’t a man anyone petted. But coming from his mate . . . he relaxed into it, content.
“Riley, about this afternoon.”
“We’re square, kitty cat.” More than square. Never in a million years had he thought that wild, untamable Mercy would come to him.
But she gave a frustrated sigh and sat up, pushing her hair off her face. When he couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful breasts, she growled in her throat and flipped the long strands back over them.
He looked up, scowling. “Now what?”
“Have you thought through the consequences of our mating, Riley? Have you?” She poked a finger into his chest. “One of us is going to have to break from our pack. One of us is going to have to cut out our heart.” Her. She was the one who’d have to break. She knew that beyond any shadow of a doubt . . . because Riley was just a fraction older, just a fraction more dominant. Not enough to change the dynamic of their relationship, but more than enough to rip her from DarkRiver.
“We’ll still be close physically—”
“That’s bullshit. You know it and I know it.” Fisting her hands, she thumped them on her thighs. “DarkRiver is as much a part of my soul as SnowDancer is yours. Sentinels don’t leave their packs, not unless they choose to follow a new alpha. Neither do lieutenants.”
“We have an alliance,” Riley said, feeling a chill creep up his back. “There’s no reason for either of us to break from our packs.”
“But we will! Soon as we mate, for one of us, the connection to our alpha, to our pack, the blood bond, will break. We’ll feel it right here.” Mercy slammed a fist into her heart. Because he understood her—damn it—he didn’t say it, but she knew he was as aware as she was that it would be her.
“You’re not going to give up your mate to stay in your pack.” Ground out through clenched teeth.
She couldn’t argue with him. “No.” Having a mate was a gift, a brilliance of being. “But it’ll destroy a part of me. I won’t be the same woman. I’ll be less.” That was what had so terrified her this afternoon, the recognition that to be with this man, with her mate, she’d have to give up not only her pack . . . but part of herself. “I don’t know if my leopard can accept that.”
Riley swore, then reached out to close a hand over hers. The leopard snarled, making her jerk back in reflex. His mouth tightened. “You’re not just a leopard, Mercy, you’re human, too. You won’t be less—you’ll adapt.”
“I might be human,” she said, aching to touch him, yet angry with him at the same time, “but I’m also a pack animal. I’m not a loner, Riley. I never have been. I can’t be whole without my pack.” She sucked in a breath. “If it had been another leopard pack, it would’ve hurt like hell but I think my cat would’ve learned to adapt. But to come into a pack of wolves—”
“If that happens, if yours is the bond that breaks,” Riley said, sitting up to face her, “SnowDancer will treat you as its own, you know that. You know.”
“The woman understands,” she said softly, breaking his heart with her sorrow, “but the leopard doesn’t. All it knows is that if I take my wolf, I might lose everything else that ever mattered.”
CHAPTER 44
The next morning, by mutual agreement, Mercy and Riley drove to meet Nash down the road from Nate and Tamsyn’s house. The entire Baker family was staying there while their home was being fitted up with all sorts of high-tech security.
The drive was quiet. Neither of them mentioned the painful truth they’d talked about in the den, but the fact that they hadn’t been apart since the night before . . . well, it spoke for itself.
“Thanks for meeting me out here,” Nash said, taking a seat at a picnic table in the backyard of Zach and Annie’s house—the couple had already left for the day, but Zach had called Mercy with the location of the hidden key. Using that key, she’d put on the coffee while Riley escorted Nash over. She’d figured the boy would do better with a male.
Now she put three empty mugs on the table as Riley headed in to bring out the insulated pitcher. “You didn’t want to worry your parents, right?”
A nod from the young man across from her. Brown eyed, with hair a few shades lighter, he was good-looking in a gentle kind of way. But there was an underlying toughness to him, the lynx within.
“Coffee.” Riley poured and grabbed a seat. “I’m going to cut to the chase, Nash. It’s been a week and we’re still not clear on why the Alliance targeted you rather than any number of more experienced researchers. MIT’s playing the commercial sensitivity card and you haven’t exactly been cooperative, either.”
“Secrecy’s vital to our funding.” Nash met Mercy’s eyes. “We all had to sign complex nondisclosure agreements.”
Given the alacrity with which the lynx had agreed to this meet, Mercy had a feeling he simply hadn’t wanted to say anything in a medium that could be recorded or traced back to him. “Okay, I get that,” Mercy said. “But we need to calculate the odds of another attempt—whether by humans, changelings, or Psy. It’ll affect not only the security arrangements we make for you, but your family’s as well.”
Nash didn’t even take a moment to think about it. “Odds are very high. Any of the three, but changelings probably not so much.”
“Damn, that’s what I was afraid of.” Mercy chewed on her lower lip. “This company that’s sponsoring you, will they pay for bodyguards?”
“I think so.”
Riley nodded, as if following Mercy’s line of thought. “We’ll provide the bodyguards.”
“You would anyway,” Nash said. Then smiled. “But the sponsor doesn’t have to know that. The pack might as well get paid for protecting my ass.”
Mercy grinned. He was okay, was Nash. “They’re also the most likely source of the leak.”
“Yeah. I had a call from the managing director to say they’re going through all personnel who might have links to the Human Alliance.”
“Good.” Riley tapped a finger against his coffee mug. “This company—your gut reaction?”
Nash’s face turned serious. “They’re out to make money, but they’re willing to put in the hard time funding research that might never go anywhere. I figure that’s fair.”
Mercy agreed. “Their ethics?”
“They’ve agreed that if I’m successful, they’ll allow medical use at cost or less if possible. Everyone else will pay a premium.” Nash met Mercy’s eyes. “The owner’s daughter has a condition that might be helped by my work. Believe me, he won’t withhold it from other kids. He’s one of the good guys.”
That convinced Mercy as nothing else could’ve done. Heart, love, it had a way of fighting off darkness. “I have to admit I’m curious as anything about what you’re doing, but I understand commercial sensitivity. We can work with what we’ve got.”
Nash thrust a hand through his hair. “When I started, I didn’t realize all the implications. I was thinking of purely medical use, but, well . . . everyone wants to be stronger.”
Mercy went motionless at the obliq
ue hint. “No wonder the Alliance wants you.” She despised their tactics, but could see what drove them. Humans were the weakest of the three races—Psy were weaker physically, but had psychic abilities to compensate. If humans could at least level the playing field so they had changeling strength . . . yeah, she could see the temptation.
“It’s a very long-term project,” Nash told her. “I think the Alliance thinks we have functioning prototypes. We’re nowhere near close.”
“But you’re on the right track,” Riley said. “Enough to make you a serious target.”
Another shy grin. “Good thing I have leopards and wolves on my side, then.”
In a van parked on a street packed with tourists out to sample the area’s world-famous crabs, several screens came to life. “We have eyes on Nikita Duncan,” said the operator.
His partner watched the Councilor enter the office building and—frustratingly—take the stairs to the mezzanine floor, where she apparently had a meeting, judging from the focus with which she walked toward the first door on the left. “Damn.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll move.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this—we were meant to act when we knew what her exact movements would be.”
“We’re still on schedule.”
“But we lost hours trying to keep ahead of the wolves and cats. Our reconnaissance wasn’t anywhere near as good as it should’ve been.” A pause. “Maybe we shouldn’t have killed the information broker.”
“It’s done now.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, the chairman seems to have some kind of a top source of his own—he’s been giving us good tips.”
“Hmm.” A pause. “What a waste.”
“Huh?”
The man shrugged and brought up a screenshot of Nikita Duncan’s form. “Look at that face, those cheekbones, those legs.” The Councilor had an exotic mix of Irish, Japanese, and Russian blood and had inherited the best from all sides. Tall and lithe, she had the almond eyes of a goddess, and the kind of silky hair men liked to see on their pillow. “Too bad she’s a heartless bitch.”
“She’ll be a dead bitch soon enough.”
Mercy was meant to be doing a shift on the continuing security patrols in the city, but after she and Riley went their separate ways, she asked Clay to cover for her so she could drive to Tammy’s. She’d deliberately picked the one sentinel who wouldn’t ask questions, but to her surprise, he gave her a narrow-eyed glance and stroked the back of one hand over her cheek. “You okay?”
Surprised by the affection from a leopard who’d been all but stone a few months ago, she felt every one of her emotions threaten to come to the surface. Damming the storm back with effort, she touched his hand in thanks. “I will be.”
He let her go without further comment, but she knew he’d be keeping an eye on her. It made her cat settle—today, she needed the comfort of Pack, of knowing she was part of a cohesive and vital unit. How could she possibly exist without the blood bond that tied her to DarkRiver so fundamentally?
When she arrived at Tammy’s, the healer took one look at her and dragged her into the kitchen. “What’s the matter?”
“The Bakers?”
“Gone exploring in the woods. They’ve got an escort. My babies are at playgroup. Now talk.”
She just blurted it out. “If I mate with Riley, will we be able to have kids?” It was another part of the dream, something she’d always imagined. If she couldn’t . . . it would hurt, no doubt about it.
“Of course you will,” Tammy said at once. “I’ve been researching that ever since you two showed an interest in each other. Inter-changeling unions between predatory species aren’t that common, so the info is scattered and incomplete.”
Relieved, Mercy rocked back on her heels. “It’s because the animal prefers its own kind.”
“Yeah.” Tammy leaned over and took Mercy’s hand, eyes shining. “But sometimes, the human heart loves so deeply that it overcomes the objections of the animal.”
Mercy felt a knot form in her throat.
“I’m so glad you have that,” Tammy continued. “Of all the sentinels, it’s you I worried most about.”
Startled, she stared. “Me? Why?” When Clay had almost gone rogue and Dorian had come close to self-destructing? “I’m probably more stable than anyone but Lucas.”
“Exactly,” the healer said. “People tend to ignore the ones who seem okay. And we shouldn’t. You’re an integral part of the pack, and I worried that we’d left you too much on your own.”
Mercy rolled her eyes. “You worry way too much. Shall I tell you how alone I’ve been lately?” She didn’t wait for an answer, pulling out a chair and turning it around to sit with her arms on the back while Tammy perched on a stool at the counter. “Ever since word got out about me and Riley, I’ve had an uncountable number of teenage girls sidle up to me and ask if wolves are good lovers.”
Tammy choked. “No!”
“Oh, yes. Their eyes, they are wandering.”
“Oh, dear God.” Tammy looked torn between horror and laughter. “If the teenagers start dating, Hawke and Lucas will both have aneurysms.”
“Oh, you haven’t heard the best part.” She paused. “An entire pack of male juveniles cornered me the other day to ask if I didn’t think leopards were good enough for me.”
Tammy rubbed her forehead. “I think I have a headache.”
“You don’t get to have a headache. Only I get to have a headache.” She tried to keep a straight face. “When I pointed out that I could gut them all with a butter knife but that I might have difficulty doing the same to Riley, they turned green. You might have to pet a few later on—I think I scared them off sex with leopard females.”
Tammy was looking a bit green herself. “Do I want to know more?”
“Probably not.” She ran a hand over her face. “Enough stalling, Tammy. Will my babies shift?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Hopping off the stool, she went around the counter to pour some coffee. “I didn’t realize you were concerned about that.”
“I heard that when two different changelings mate, the animals cancel each other out and the child can’t shift.”
“Old wives’ tale.” Tammy made a face as she brought the cups to the table. “Makes no sense genetically. Genes don’t cancel each other out.”
“But some are recessive and others aren’t,” Mercy said. “How’s that work with changelings?”
“We screw up those neat genome charts the biologists like to keep,” Tamsyn said.
“So we don’t know what’ll happen?”
“No. We do. All healers keep extensive records, and I’ve been on the phone and on e-mail with hundreds of healers across the world over the past few days.” She took a sip of coffee. “We’re pretty sure what goes on, even though scientifically, we have no proof.”
“I’ll take healers over science any day.” Especially when it came to changeling genetics. They confused normal scientists. Having been best friends with Dorian since childhood, she knew that better than most—the other sentinel had been born latent, unable to shift into the animal form that was his other half. His parents had taken him to the best M-Psy out there. None had been able to help. It had needed a woman locked into his very soul to do that.
“Okay.” Tammy put down her coffee and took a deep breath. “You know how you and Riley are always fighting over dominance?”
Mercy nodded.
“Yeah, well, your babies are going to have the final word on the subject.”
Mercy stared at Tammy. “How final?”
“Very. When two changelings of different species mate, it’s the more dominant one in the pair whose genes are expressed as far as shifting goes.” Tammy’s eyes gleamed with hidden laughter. “Of course, no one knows when things get set in stone—it might depend on who’s feeling more feral the day you conceive.”
Mercy’s hand fisted even as wonder bloomed inside of her at the thought o
f carrying a child. “We’re not bonded yet.” There would be no babies until her leopard accepted Riley without boundaries, without conditions, with absolute trust.
“I guessed . . . do you want to talk about why?”
“No. We’re dealing with it. I’m just glad to know if we do make it through, our babies will be able to shift.”
“You don’t mind that your kids might not shift into cats?”
“They’ll shift. That’s what matters.” She squeezed Tammy’s hand, knowing the healer understood. “Dorian never talked about it—he’s so fucking male—but I know how much it hurt him not to be able to go leopard. I’ve been way more worried about whether or not my kids would shift, than what they’d shift into.”
On the other side of the world, Councilor Kaleb Krychek drove home through the pitch black of night on the outskirts of Moscow. Putting his vehicle on automatic navigation half an hour from his destination, he used his organizer to connect to the house’s security node—he always checked his defenses before he ever entered the zone he considered safe. He had no personnel at his home, no one who could betray him. But the entire area around his property was alarmed and protected. He knew if a butterfly landed on his balcony.
He also knew when people had been creeping around where they shouldn’t be.
Tapping into the full security logs, he saw the presence of a number of bodies a hundred feet beyond his outer perimeter. Of course, that wasn’t his actual perimeter. He’d set alarm lines well into the fields that surrounded his isolated home, all the way to, and across, the properties of his neighbors.
Kaleb liked his privacy.
He double-checked the data. No way to tell if the people lying in wait were human, Psy, or changeling. Their estimated body weight tilted them toward non-Psy, as Psy of the same size and height had a slightly lower bone density. He rechecked the data for the third time, putting it through the filters of his own mind.
He knew the BlackEdge pack—the wolves that controlled the greater Moscow area as far as changelings were concerned. Selenka Durev, their alpha, didn’t like him, but she was willing to work with him to keep the city peaceful, so long as he kept his nose out of her business. The agreement worked because Kaleb had no interest in changeling affairs—though he kept a very close eye on Selenka and her pack. Wolves were smart, dangerous, and could be lethal adversaries, as Nikita Duncan had discovered in her own region.
Branded by Fire Page 26
