by Celia Kyle
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
About the Author
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Hillary really wished she had some sort of superpower. It didn’t even have to be one of the more known abilities. She’d be happy with something small and insignificant, such as being able to turn her finger into a metal key instead of a lion claw. Mainly because as she stared at a locked door, a key would be really helpful. A lion claw… Not so much.
She just wished…
Nothing. She wished for nothing. After sitting behind a locked door for over twenty years, she’d finally accepted that hoping and praying got her nothing. And yet… She’d heard the whispers and low growls, snatched a look at a newspaper blowing in the wind drifting across the street, and she the recognized the scent of fear that hovered in the air. Something had changed. And if she played her cards right, and waited for just the right moment, she might escape.
Or rather, she might have escaped had she played her cards right the first time around. But she hadn’t and so now she sat alone in her room staring at a locked door.
Which… brought her back around to wishing she had a superpower.
Hillary sighed and flopped onto her bed. It was one of the nicer ones she’d had over the years even if the location left much to be desired. The mattress was plush and soft with just the right amount of give without being too squishy. And bonus, the whole room was hers alone. Considering the first fifteen years of her imprisonment had been spent sharing a room with one half-mad werelion or another, this was heaven.
Mostly. It wasn’t quite so heavenly when the activities outside her room, and the sounds that came through the thick door, insinuated there was some heavy-duty movement going on. Not super surprising. She couldn’t count the number of times they’d changed location, but the situation seemed so very, very different than all the others.
In the past, Tony Davis—head of the werelion branch of the Colletti crime family—directed everything. In the present, Tony was behind bars.
“Get your ass in gear! We need to get the fuck out of here!” Johnny bellowed, and Hillary felt the vibrations in her bones. Damn, the big fucker was scared. And that guy… he was never fearful. Nothing ever rocked his boat. He was almost seven feet of rock hard crazed asshole.
“I said get the fuck moving!” Panic filled his tone. Then a heavy thud was immediately followed by an echoing crack of wood and her door bowed slightly, a thin line now bisecting the panel.
Obviously somebody did not have their listening ears on and Johnny was throwing things, or werelions, around.
Hillary rolled from the bed and padded to the door. She banged her fist on the solid wood and raised her voice to be heard. “Hey! What’s going on?”
And she heard… nothing. Not really surprising. Her jailers weren’t exactly happy about keeping an eye on her. When the responsibility of watching over the Colletti/Davis omega werelion was weighed against shooting and killing people, the omega thing tended to lose.
Hey, she would be happy to relieve them of their duty and waltz on out of the building, but they never took her up on the offer. Something about the boss being scarier than her. Whatever.
Another crash, this one shaking the entire wall and little bits of the popcorn ceiling rained down on her. She shook her head and dislodged the dust, sneezing when some tickled her nose. Seriously? She’d just washed her hair.
Her lioness whimpered and whined—concerned that Hillary was about to start some shit—but she totally wasn’t. The animal didn’t believe her and Hillary couldn’t blame the kitty. Her human half had gotten her into a lot of trouble over the years and she was ready to experience some more now.
“Aldo! Is that you? You gotta stand up to Johnny, man. Don’t let him throw you into walls. You gotta demand some—” A bellowing roar from Johnny cut off the rest of her statement and she crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for him to come snarling at her. The man was strong as hell and loyal to a fault, but… pretty dumb. And not even pretty pretty dumb. The guy had gotten into ten too many fistfights and that nose of his…
Anyway, Hillary waited. And waited. And waited so long she realized she was tapping her foot in impatience. Through it all, Johnny had yet to make an appearance.
What the hell?
The sounds of running and fighting continued to filter past the door to her prison, some were the unmistakable snarls and whimpers of fighting while others were the banging crash of things being packed away. As if they were prepping for a move. Which, fine they could totally move, but the whole process usually involved her. A lot.
Crazy lions generally needed an omega to keep them calm, even more so when they were under stress. A quick cut and run was very stressful. She kept the peace-ish while they worked.
Okay, Aldo wasn’t taking the bait. Time to go for the big guy directly. Obviously, the average omega lion wouldn’t dream of spouting off like she was about to, but Hillary wasn’t the average omega lion. Growing up with Tony as a “father” meant she was anything but ordinary.
“Yo! Johnny, I heard from Caesar that his sister Carmela said you’ve got a tiny dick!”
That still got her nothing but silence. Dammit.
Hillary leaned against the wall and let her head drop back to rest on the smooth surface. A bit of her hair covered her eyes, and she blew it away. They’d promised her a haircut and still had yet to deliver. Fine. If being a bitch wasn’t working, she’d be a whining girl. Somebody would have to show up at some point.
She didn’t bother banging or knocking since she doubted it’d do much good. She just needed to annoy him enough to come talk to her. “Johnny! You said you were going to get that stylist Carmelo likes to come do my hair. What’s up with that? When’s that happening?”
A jumbling crash, the clink and clank of glass and pans scattering on the tile floor of the kitchen reached her. And she only happened to know that specific sound because she’d done it a time or two. Or five. She’d done it five times. She admitted to still having a rebellious streak a mile wide.
Hillary blamed it on not growing up with kids her own age and working out all that defiance in her teens like every other kid.
Johnny called her a bitch.
Hillary told him to go fuck himself.
And then Johnny—
Johnny did nothing. Because as she replayed those memories, something had changed in the house. And that specific something was the fact that she was now alone.
“They wouldn’t…” she murmured and pressed her ear against the wall. She coaxed her lioness forward and encouraged it to help her. The little whiny thing shook its massive head in denial and Hillary mentally sighed. Come on, sweetheart. I promise not to get into any trouble for at least a week.
It knew she was lying. Dammit.
But she really needed her suspicions confirmed because with the lack of growls and grunts came an uneasy silence. One that was different than others she’d experienced in the past. This one was a stillness that only came from a place that had been… abandoned.
That got the cat’s attention. It might hate their captors, but it didn’t want to be without other lions either.
So this time, when she pressed her ear to the wall and closed her eyes as she beckoned the feline forward, it granted her request. It padded nearer, head bowed and tail lax between its legs. The animal was the epitome of subservient lion
ess and Hillary loathed that part of her. Omega or not, she hated that the cat was such a pushover, that it could be bullied and battered without objection.
She swallowed her frustration and pushed the emotion down. Being upset with her other half wouldn’t accomplish anything. Not now, anyway.
The cat nudged her and Hillary opened herself to its presence as the beast granted her a greater ability to hear. As she focused, she disregarded the rush of water in the pipes and the scratching scrape of bugs in the walls. Instead she hunted other familiar sounds. She sought Johnny’s heavy breathing or the thump of Caesar’s heart or the constant digestion of food from Aldo’s stomach… hell, she would’ve been happy with some of the guys she didn’t know that well. Anyone. But she heard nothing.
Now her lioness was beginning to panic, the feline catching on to Hillary’s thought process and slowly realizing they were alone. Alone and she didn’t have high hopes that the men would be back. They’d packed, hadn’t they?
Hillary pushed away from the wall and padded to the door, hoping the crack in the panel would allow her to scent some of the surrounding air. Her rooms were generally sealed well and didn’t allow aromas in or out. Not that Tony hadn’t wanted her scenting others, he just didn’t want others to realize he had an omega at hand. Blah, blah, whatever, whatever… She didn’t care about the whys, she only cared about whether the system had failed.
The lioness was quick to render assistance this time, no coaxing needed, and she pressed her nose to the thin line. She breathed deeply, drawing in as much air as she could, and quickly catalogued the flavors.
Fear. Hate. Anger. Pain. Blood. And… something else that made her heart race and body heat with only a hint of that scent.
Hillary stumbled away from the door, eyes wide as a new rush of fear filled the air. But it wasn’t from someone outside the room. It was hers. Because that aroma of smoky sweetness tinged with a hint of the dry plains belonged to her… mate.
Her first thought should be one of joy followed by euphoria and desperation for a flat surface. Instead panic suffused her. Panic and fear. But not for her. She could deal with something happening to her. She’d been waiting for the ax to fall for over twenty years. But despite Tony’s incarceration, she belonged to the man and having a mate would be a threat to that possession.
Tony only had one reaction to a threat.
Death.
*
Oscar glared at the rundown house. Hell, all the rundown houses. They’d gotten a tip and here they were. And by “here,” he meant God’s own asshole. How such a place could exist in the city he loved so much was beyond him. The wind kicked up, blowing the scent of rotted garbage and decaying meat, and he nearly lost his lunch. He was a lion, but his cat wouldn’t go near whatever the fuck that was.
His partner for the day, Colton, slipped from their SUV and rounded the vehicle to stand beside him.
As Colton neared, he shrugged into his black leather jacket and Oscar chuckled. “You better just take that right back off unless you want your cat to tear through it when you shift.”
“Fuck that noise. I’m not dropping to four in this shit.”
Oscar smirked at the male. “Oh, yeah, you are.” Colton opened his mouth to object once again and Oscar was quick to cut him off. “I was not the one who pissed off Zane and got handed double shifts. That was you.”
They were both enforcers, two of six of the highest ranked males in the pride, responsible for ensuring the safety of their members. Normally, they all got along great. They fucked with each other sure, but for the most part it was harmless.
At least until Colton went after Zane and upset the lion’s mate. Colton had been an ass which in turn upset Addy—Zane’s mate—and in turn upset Zane’s adopted son Jack. Considering Zane was the most senior of them all and the one in charge of making up the duty schedules, Colton had really fucked up. And now they were all having a fuckton of fun giving the male shit.
In this case, Colton might actually be walking in shit.
“Come on, Oscar. That was a week ago.”
Oscar shrugged. “Not my deal, man. Did you apologize to Addy and make it up to her?”
The younger lion sighed and dropped his head back in frustration. “Yes. I apologized, I bought her shit and I even sent shit to that kid of theirs. What do I gotta do? Donate a kidney? I’m so tired of being crapped on already.”
Yeah, maybe it was time for Zane to get over it. He clapped Colton on the shoulder. “Okay, I’ll talk to him when we get back.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.” Colton released a relieved sigh at Oscar’s words. “But don’t get too excited because your ass is still shifting.”
That got him a glare, but the male spun on his heel and stomped toward the back of the SUV so he could climb inside, strip, and shift. Once that was done, Oscar would let the three hundred pound lion onto the street. Getting naked and shifting was par for the course for their kind, but humans still had those sticky indecency laws to contend with.
It hardly took any time for Colton to get the job done and then they were walking down the street. The lion grumbled and growled, occasionally hopping on three paws while shaking the fourth to dislodge God only knew what.
Oscar looked down at the disgruntled beast and laughed. “Damn, pretty boy. Chill out. I’ll get you a fucking manicure when we get back.”
That earned him a hiss from Colton.
What the fuck ever.
With a shake of his head, he focused on his task of ferreting out Davis’ hideaways and gathering up his men for questioning… and more depending on their offenses. He let his own beast edge forward, just enough to give him help in listening and scenting but not enough to force him to all fours. They already had one man wearing fur. They needed Oscar able to speak to anyone they came across. He swung his attention up and down the street, looking for telltale signs that a particular rundown piece of shit was occupied by their prey.
Addy wasn’t just Zane’s mate, she’d also lived with Tony Davis for a while before kidnapping the man’s cub and running. The male was the head of the werelion half of the Colletti family and generally a fucked up lion, so Oscar was in full support of what the woman had done. Now, they were taking advantage of her knowledge of the man’s operation.
Normally he hated the idea of using a woman, but Tony and Marcus—the pride’s alpha—had come to an agreement. Addy and Zane got to adopt Tony’s son and would never be bothered by the family again, and Tony would no longer be pressured into turning on anyone or providing any other information about his own operation. He’d serve his time and be done. He wasn’t a snitch.
What the fuck ever. Again.
Which meant they were now using Addy’s limited knowledge. That included locations of some of Tony’s homes and hideouts as well as information about the companies the man had his hands in. It was a winding and twisting web of secrets and hidden pockets.
Two other enforcers, Austin and Grant, had spent days plucking apart and untangling each rope. The amount of information was nearly overwhelming, but they were slowly working through each new snippet and exploring each new avenue. Which was what brought them to this hell.
“Quit your bitching. The address is around the corner. Duck down the alley behind those trees, and come at the house from behind.” Oscar met Colton’s answering glare but didn’t back down. Yeah, it was dirty and nasty, but he wasn’t the one who had to knock on the damned door and risk getting shot. That was Oscar’s job.
He turned at the next corner and continued down the street. His skin vibrated, fur pulsing just beneath the thin layer of his tanned flesh. The cat wanted out. It sensed something Oscar’s human half did not. It drifted over him in a ghostly blanket, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what he was feeling. Anticipation. Excitement. Unease.
But no fear. No hint of adrenaline that signaled he was about to step into a dangerous situation.
In fact, his animal was urging him t
o pick up the pace. He had to struggle against the cat, push it back and not allow it to shove him onward.
Fucker, we gotta look casual.
He was pretty sure the beast told him to fuck off.
Then it didn’t matter because Oscar was paused at the edge of the property line of his destination and found himself staring at a saggy-roofed, dilapidated house. He figured it’d crumble at any instant and he was wary of going inside. The lion wasn’t hearing any of that and instead shoved his golden fur through Oscar’s pores. His human nails slowly transformed into sharpened and thickened claws and he shuddered as he fought the beast’s attempt to take control.
Asshole, I will lock your ass down for six months if you don’t back off.
The lion wavered, seeming to weigh Oscar’s conviction before he finally retreated. With the cat’s step back, he breathed deeply and sought a calm that refused to materialize. Now he realized it wasn’t just his animal that wanted to race into that house. His human half did as well.
Oscar scented the air, his animal more than happy and willing to lend its assistance. They sifted past the garbage and grime that surrounded them, hunting up the identity of those inside the building. As he grew closer to the structure, flavors drifted to him on the wind. He identified three—no, four—different males that had been in the area recently. Even within the last hour. Beneath those, hidden under the musk of the men, lingered one aroma that had him nearly roaring with joy. It was salty sweet, feminine musk and delicate strawberries—he fucking loved strawberries—and was made just for him.
In the middle of God’s asshole he’d found his mate.
Screw subterfuge and knocking on the door like a regular guy. Because something else was mixed in with her delicious flavors—her fear. Bone deep soul shaking fear assaulted his nose.
Oscar jolted into a run, cat giving him extra speed and strength as he approached the front door. He didn’t pause in his stride as he broke down the panel with a fierce kick to the lock. The wood bowed and shattered with the hit, tumbling to the ground in a pile of kindling, and still he moved on. The lion was intent on finding her, on discovering her location, and then they’d kill whoever had frightened her.
