Heads or Tails (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Werelion Romance) (Quick & Furry Book 4)

by Celia Kyle

  “One last chance, Tony.” Marcus leaned back in his folding chair, pretending to be uncaring as he propped his feet on the metal table that separated him from Tony. “I want to know about the rest of your holdings and where I can find them. I wanna know what else you have your fingers in. Who else do you have behind locked doors?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tony shook his head and Oscar fought the need to rip the man’s face off. This bastard knew and wasn’t talking and that was unacceptable.

  “No?” Marcus shrugged. “Is that your final answer? I’m giving you one last shot. Tell me now or things will get ugly.”

  Oscar almost wished the man would remain silent because he was all for getting ugly.

  Tony shook his head. “No way, man. You don’t understand…”

  Marcus removed his feet from the table and stood. “Okay then. I’m done.” The alpha focused on Oscar. “He’s all yours.”

  Oscar raised his eyebrows in question, wanting to make sure he’d heard his leader right. “Seriously?”

  “Yup.”

  “What’s going on here?” Tony’s attention sprang between Oscar and the alpha. “I have a deal. One you’re already violating by asking me about the business.”

  Marcus shrugged. “You had a deal that encompassed all the bullshit between you and Niccolo Colletti. The ‘business.’ This is about kidnapping and the fact your guys are currently holding Oscar’s mate.” The alpha put his hands on the tabletop and leaned forward. “Mate trumps deal. So, you either tell me what I want to know or I let him at you.”

  Tony’s denial was quick. “No, Niccolo and I aren’t into that kidnapping shit. I don’t know who you think has your mate, but it’s not—”

  “Hillary Stewart.” Oscar threw the name down and he didn’t miss the way the other lion paled.

  “No,” Tony whispered. “You… She… It’s not really kidnapping if I had her—”

  Marcus took a step back and Oscar took his place. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the prisoner. “Yes. And you have five seconds to tell me where I can find her. To tell me where your guys have hidden her. For every second after that,” he raised his hand and let his claws slip forward. “For every second after that, I slice a strip of skin from your body.”

  The criminal focused on Marcus. “But that’s illegal. You can’t let him—”

  The alpha shrugged. “You’re interfering in a mating, plain and simple. You need to decide if you’re gonna get carved up by Oscar or tell us the truth. I’ll do my best to keep him under control, but it’s his mate. If you stay silent, you’re on your own.”

  Tony’s gaze couldn’t seem to choose between them, his attention bouncing back and forth before he finally settled on Marcus. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”

  Dammit. Oscar had really been looking forward to venting his frustration on the asshole. Instead, he was forced to listen to a laundry list of homes and businesses, small little hideaways, and places to find a private plane or two.

  Oscar committed each one to memory while also typing a few notes into his cell phone. The minute the “interview” was done, he’d get his fellow enforcers working on the problem. Now that he had a path, he’d chase it until he found Hillary. He wouldn’t rest until she was back in his arms.

  Marcus turned and strode toward the exit, a ringing cell phone in hand. Oscar lingered. His leader wrenched the door open and stepped through, instantly pressing the phone to his ear. Which gave Oscar the chance he needed.

  Not hesitating another second, he cocked his fist back, leaned over the table, and let his punch fly. The crunch and crack of bone echoed the sound of his fist striking flesh. He was gratified when Tony’s chair tipped backward and he went sprawling across the floor.

  The door immediately opened, Marcus poking his head through. “Everything okay?”

  Oscar shrugged. “He tripped.”

  “He was sitting,” the alpha drawled.

  He shrugged again and moved toward the door. “I dunno, maybe he’s gifted at falling.”

  “Right.” Marcus rolled his eyes but didn’t say another word.

  Both left the interrogation room and focused on locating Hillary. Marcus pulled every string, Brett made every call, and each enforcer went to every damned location with murder in mind, though no one in the pride really thought of it that way. The truth was, the mate of one of their own had been taken and that was all they needed to know.

  Funnily enough, Colton located her back in that greasy, rundown part of town, but this time the lion didn’t bitch, moan, groan, or complain about dropping to all fours. The only thing he did whine about was that they decided to wait for nightfall.

  Honestly, Oscar wanted to pout like a little bitch as well. Unfortunately, Marcus overruled them both. They had superior night vision and wouldn’t truly be sneaking up on their prey, but they were less likely to be bothered by human authorities if they acted a little circumspect.

  Oscar was tempted to tell his alpha where he could shove his circumspect. Instead, he simply sat in an SUV down the road, never taking his attention from their destination. It hadn’t taken much to confirm his mate within the house, Austin was great at hacking into the traffic camera system, and a few discreet inquiries supported their assumption.

  Hillary—his Hillary—was inside that house with at least three other males. Three soon to be dead males.

  The hours slowly ticked past, but eventually night fell, blanketing the street in a dark cloak. His lion’s eyes easily adjusted to the dimness and it was no trouble to make his way to his position. It took less than fifteen minutes for them to settle in place, fifteen minutes of anxiousness that nearly killed him. He wanted to go now. Not later, not in a minute, not even in thirty seconds. Now.

  But he also wanted to get his mate back healthy and whole.

  So he waited until he got the signal, the brief motion from his alpha that would put them all into action.

  Nine men, nine fierce lions ready to kill and die for one of their own, waited. It was as if the world held its breath, none of them daring to make a movement until given permission, and then they received it.

  Each of them took an entrance—some entry points being attacked by more than one male. As one, they raced over the ground, some on four feet others on two. Adrenaline pushed them on and added strength as some kicked down doors while others smashed through windows.

  Oscar had one particular window, one particular portal as his goal. When he’d spied Hillary at the glass from a distance, no one had argued with his choice of entry. They could enjoy tearing the others limb from limb, but Oscar’s first priority was ensuring his mate was safe. He’d failed once, but he was going to care for her now. He just had to bust through the bars on the window first.

  Oscar remained in his human form, needing his hands to tear those bars away. He knew they’d be bolted in, secure so Hillary couldn’t escape, but they would be nothing against an enraged, fully grown male lion who wanted his other half.

  When he reached the side of the house, he wrapped his fingers around those metal bars and ripped them away. Hell, he was almost let down by how easy he accomplished the task. It was even easier to demolish the glass that was the final barrier between them. He bolted through the opening and quickly scanned the interior of the room, anxious to snatch Hillary and carry her to safety.

  However, things don’t always go according to plan. Because he didn’t find his mouthy omega mate crouched in the corner, waiting for him. He discovered a massive male holding two things: his mate in one arm and a gun in the other hand. A gun pointed directly at him.

  A bright light blinded him for a moment, the flare followed by the unmistakable pop of a gun firing, and then an agonizing pain consumed his chest. It was a gunshot, he’d experienced them before, but those hadn’t been to his heart.

  Oscar blinked and found himself kneeling on the floor hands limp at his side. He looked down his body and spied the large hole in the cent
er of his chest.

  He shifted his attention from his body and back to his attacker. Pure evil consumed the man’s gaze, and uncontrolled hate filled Hillary’s. Golden fur slid over her skin, sliding free of her pores, and he couldn’t stop himself from marveling at her beauty.

  Then he didn’t really marvel at anything because the darkness was creeping in, and weakness replaced his strength. He felt himself slumping, muscles no longer listening to his desires, and his eyes flitted closed.

  But not before he caught sight of his luscious mate shifting, her lioness’ fangs emerging and golden fur bursting through her pores.

  God damn she was beautiful. And if he wasn’t dying, he’d be hard.

  *

  Oh. Hell. No.

  Hillary could deal with being manhandled. She’d tolerated it all her life. Tony and Niccolo’s guys had never learned the word please, so getting hauled here and there was no bigs.

  Having the guy holding her shoot her mate in the chest was a problem. A deadly one. Because while she spent her life with them being docile—if annoying—she was anything but now. Her lioness rushed forward, abandoning her constant post in the back of her mind and it burst through her skin in a roaring wave. One moment she had human hands and feet and the next she was a whirling mass of pale fur, flashing claws and shining teeth.

  Anger, no not anger but rage. It overflowed and consumed her. Sweetness and light? Hardly. Not anymore.

  It took one look at Oscar, one glance at his slumped form and steadily bleeding wound, to make her next decision. Her jailer released her with her shift, and now she was going to capture him. She’d never truly enjoyed pouncing and killing prey, but she was so making an exception for this guy. She tackled him, taking his heavy weight down with her smaller size.

  Hillary dug her claws into his chest, three-inch nails sinking through flesh and scraping bone as she held him down. Pain etched his features and she felt his fists colliding with her body, but it was nothing compared to the pain of her mate’s injuries. She flexed one of her back legs, pressed it against his flailing body and sank in there as well. More flesh, more bone, and this time the male released a scream.

  That’s right fucker, scream like a little bitch.

  Her mouth watered with the thought of ripping out his throat, and she licked her whiskers in anticipation. The scent of his blood teased her lioness and she could practically taste him on her tongue. Coppery sweetness with a sour tang of pain and fear. She hated the flavors of fear, but their presence pleased her animal. She lowered her head, jaws wide and ready, only to be yanked away from her prey.

  So not fair.

  The rip of her nails from his body made a satisfying squelching sound, but the collision of her side against the wall was anything but. For the second time in as many hours, drywall and plaster rained down on her, unfortunately this time it stuck. Blech. She wasn’t about to clean herself of blood if she was going to end up with all that crap in her mouth as well.

  Hillary shook her head, clearing her mind, and swung her attention toward her prey only to find a new male towering above the man she’d downed. One booted foot on the male’s chest kept him immobile and despite the wounded man’s attempt at throwing him off, it so wasn’t happening.

  This guy was strong. Strong. She opened her mouth slightly, tasting the air, and there was no doubting the newcomer was an alpha. The North American Alpha, Marcus? Yes, it could be no one else.

  Hillary pushed to her feet, staggering the slightest bit and she shook her body, tossing off the dizziness and pain in her ribs. Then she glared at Marcus, curling her lip in a clear threat. The fucker had shot Oscar.

  The alpha simply shook his head and jerked his chin toward her mate. She swung her attention to Oscar. What the fuck did the guy want? Did he want her to cry over Oscar’s body? She’d much rather tear the responsible party into teeny tiny pieces. But then she saw what the alpha was trying to show her.

  Oscar wasn’t dead. His breathing was labored, but he was breathing. Except she knew where the wound was located, the entry point right above his heart. Other than a headshot, it was a sure way to kill a shifter. When they were whole and healthy, there wasn’t much else that would take them down.

  It looked as if not even a bullet to the chest was taking her mate out of the game. She took one last look at Marcus, confirming he had the other male under control, and then she rushed to Oscar’s side. It was as if she and her lioness worked as one, the animal retreating in an instant and leaving the human shape in its wake. It took her no more than three steps before she had human hands and arms, human feet and legs. It was easy to lay him onto his back. She ran her hands over him, yanking at his shirt and tearing it in two to get a look at his wound. It was already heeling over, the flesh at the edges pinking with newly grown skin.

  “Oscar?” The hole was still bleeding, but even that slowed beneath her gaze.

  He groaned and opened his eyes, focusing on her as he lifted a hand and prodded at his chest. “Hillary?” His voice was deep yet soft. “Wha—” He looked around the room, taking it all in, and it was as if the last several minutes struck his mind at once because fur was coating his skin and his fangs were peeking past his lower lip. He snarled and reached for her. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and yanked as he fought to stand. “Get back.”

  “I’m fine, Oscar. I’m fine.” She tugged against his hold. “Marcus is here. I’m more worried about you.” She grasped his shoulder and shoved him back to the ground. “You got shot in the damn heart. How are you still alive?”

  He grunted once his back collided with the ground. “I didn’t get shot in the fucking heart.”

  Hillary raised her eyebrows, not believing him, and she flicked her gaze to his chest and then refocused on his face.

  Oscar rolled his eyes. “So I got shot near my fucking heart. Bastard got close, but he nicked a bone I think.” Oscar reached across his body and rubbed at a spot on his ribs. “Bullet is right here.” Her mate peeked around her. “Marcus, everything good? Guys got everyone?”

  She focused on the alpha as well, waiting for the man to answer. The last thing she’d ever want was others getting hurt on her behalf. Then two things happened at once. Marcus nodded and it seemed her mate had finally realized Hillary was a little less then clothed. As in, naked. Her mate didn’t go for her wrist this time, but instead her whole shoulder. He grasped it and yanked her aside and to her feet while he rose along with her, effectively blocking her with his body so she was no longer exposed to the alpha’s gaze.

  Oscar roared, Marcus sighed, and Hillary rolled her eyes.

  The swift movements did give her a chance to do something though. While her mate was occupied with threatening his alpha, Hillary transformed a single finger to a sharp claw and went after that small piece of metal that remained. So preoccupied, he didn’t realize what she was up to until she held the slug in her hand.

  Lift. Cut. Squeeze. And done.

  By the time he was releasing a low grunt from the pain, it was over.

  “What the fuck was that?” Oscar spun toward her and she held out her hand, metal resting in her palm.

  “This.”

  He glared at the offending bit and then turned that glare on her. Then that glare turned into a wide-eyed stare because he was reminded of her nakedness. It was as if he’d never seen a nude woman before. She must have said those words aloud because he responded.

  “I’ve never seen my woman naked before, and I sure as hell don’t want anyone else seeing you.” Then she was staring at Oscar’s back again while he spoke with the alpha. “Gimme your shirt.”

  An order, not a request. He ordered an alpha around. Ballsy.

  In a rush of movement, Hillary suddenly found herself covered from neck to knee in a large t-shirt. Her lioness was pleased that they were covered—only Oscar should ever see her unclothed—but it loathed having another male’s scent on their skin. She shuddered and fought the beast’s natural inclination to rip t
he fabric from her body.

  He must have sensed or scented her disgust. He ran a single finger down her cheek before cupping her face. “We’ll be home soon, kitty, and then you can wash all this stink off you.”

  The alpha grumbled but remained quiet otherwise as her mate swung her into his arms.

  “Then what?”

  “Then I can put my scent all over you.”

  She could deal with that.

  Chapter Three

  The murmurs reached Oscar before anyone came in sight. It was easy to make out the different voices, the two men bickering and arguing as they approached the master bedroom. He couldn’t fault them for the back-and-forth snarling. He’d be afraid of himself too.

  “Fuck that, you’re going. You met her already.” Grant’s voice was firm.

  “Oh hell, no, I’m not. I met her and was with her when she was kidnapped. I’m not letting him take that frustration out on me.” Colton was quick to respond.

  “I outrank you, so you’re gonna—”

  “Amazingly, I’m not.”

  The tinkle and clink of silverware was interspersed with their words, and he realized what they were bitching about. On one hand he appreciated that someone was bringing food. On the other, he didn’t want another male anywhere near Hillary. Especially when she was naked. Naked…

  They’d managed to make it back to Pride Tower and up to Oscar’s apartment. The only reason Marcus gave them peace was because they promised to meet with him after they’d rested and cleaned up. The whole tower was on lockdown while they figured out how to proceed with this new information from Tony.

  Oscar told Marcus not to expect them until tomorrow morning and the alpha’s only response was a knowing grin and a quick, “Well, everyone will enjoy a day off while we wait for your lazy asses.”

  The rain of water on tile continued to filter from the bathroom, a continuous reminder that his mate was washing away the scents of others… Naked.