by Seere, Diana
Her tone was joking, but the words made his eyes narrow, nose slightly out of joint. “You underestimate me. Wildly.”
“Prove me wrong.”
His tongue moved between his teeth as he stared at her, the decision right there. Trust her? Let her in? She was his. Fate made that clear. Letting her into his heart was already a done deal.
Letting Dr. Samantha Baird into the very real daily life he lived, however, was something else.
Cunning to a fault, and a formidable mate, she watched him watching her. He made his choice. It snapped inside him, simple and clean.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out of the chair and took her through the apartment’s front door, not caring he wore no jacket, no shirt—
And his heart on his nonexistent sleeve.
“Where are we going?”
“I need to show you my slide rule.”
Joyful laughter filled the narrow hall as he took her out of the laboratory building, down a slim underground channel that led to his real office. The journey took about two minutes.
That was intentional. When Asher had the lab built alongside the apartment for whoever ran it, he wanted to be close.
Very close.
His handprint, his retinal scan, and some other top-secret biometric scans worked to unlock the first, then second, security door.
“Perhaps you would like to wear a visor?” he said to her drolly. “And find a ten-key adding machine?” As he opened the final door, she gasped.
The Bunker, as Asher called it in those rare moments when he needed to refer to the space, was a cocoon-like room filled with a long, black desk that took up the entire back wall. Eight computer monitors, some with video, others with numbers flashing in sequences, gave the room a humming glow. Recessed lighting in a wood-covered ceiling made the space more comfortable. In the center of the room sat a ten-person conference table, and to the left was a simple kitchen. Lavatories were to the right.
“What is this?” Samantha asked.
“My office.”
“This isn’t an office, Asher. This is a war room!”
“Now, I believe, you are beginning to understand, Samantha.” Without wasting more time, he took a seat at one of the chairs in front of a double monitor and inserted the thumb drive. Instantly he opened the PDFs on one screen, the videos started on the other.
Samantha, engrossed in the display, sat down quietly next to him.
And together, they watched.
News reports from local television stations showed dark wildcats in various places. Kokomo, Indiana. Lima, Ohio. Conway, New Hampshire. Drilling Springs, Texas. Concord, California. Garden City, New York. And more…
He counted twelve reports. Twelve.
All in the same handful of hours.
“They all look like you’ve described Tomas. As a…”
“An unusually large mountain lion. Some of the news reports call him a jaguar. He’s a cat. A big cat.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“That too,” Asher agreed, unable to muster amusement. His eyes flipped to the PDF reports. “My fear is that he’s unleashing an army. One that we cannot understand.”
“Are they all shifters? Real shifters, I mean?” she asked, clearly stumbling over her words. “I mean born shifters. Not created by a serum.”
Her quick mind amazed him. “We have no way to know. Preliminary reports indicate that these cats are not shifting back into human form in public, which would indicate that they are controlled. Discreet.”
“Probably born shifters? Not lab made?”
Asher hated the next words out of his mouth but let them go nonetheless. “I do not know.” Uncertainty was as much his enemy as was Tomas Nagy.
“And that means he’s marshaling his forces. He has an army,” she said in an awe-filled voice.
“Ah, my old friend,” Asher said to the screen as he peered at the clips, pattern matching, seeking clues. “What are you up to?”
“Old friend?”
“Tomas and I were school mates. Friends.”
“What a betrayal.” Her hand covered the back of his, a compassionate gesture that made his throat tighten. He had not been touched like that since Claire. Closing his eyes, he fought the strange brew of emotions triggered by Samantha’s simple act, past and present colliding in more ways than one.
“Yes,” he said. “Yet his betrayal of me is nothing. His goal of turning shifters into the dominant rulers on earth is an abomination that must be stopped.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Incredulous, he pulled his hand away and turned to her, agog. “Why should we disrupt the natural order of societies? We are not meant to rule.”
“I’m—I’m surprised, Asher. You don’t want all that power?”
“Good God, no.” His own words shocked him more than hers. “Do you not understand that with power comes great responsibility? And with chaos comes pain? The world as it is may not be perfect, but there is order. Governance. Reasonable stability in most parts of the world. Shifters are only a small percentage of beings on this planet. For us to rule would require subjugation. I have no desire to preside over a fear-based rule. There would be constant wars, unending violence.”
“And that’s what Tomas wants?”
He sighed. To help him regain his composure, he took a fresh shirt out of a cabinet and put it on. “I presume. I-I can see through his eyes, but I cannot hear his thoughts.”
“Yet.”
Her word rang out in the room like a gong. “Yet,” he said softly, wondering where this madness would take him.
“You see him more?” she asked, reaching out to touch his hip, her fingers skittering over the pants cloth covering the scar.
“No. He is not near.”
“In your dreams?”
“If I do, I wake without memory.”
“This,” she said flatly, pointing to the videos on screen. “This is a very public warning.”
“Yes.” More of a challenge, he thought to himself.
“Of what?”
“I do not know.” Frustrated, he slapped a palm on the tabletop, making a set of headphones bounce. “If only I knew. Our field informants are sending constant reports, but they add up to no coherent whole.” His gaze drifted to those sweet eyes. “And I absolutely will not let him get anywhere near you now. Not after learning of the prophecy.”
Turning away from her, he tapped out short messages on the private, clean line he had with his tech team.
“Prophecy?”
“I will tell you over dinner. It will be delivered shortly.”
“Tell me now.”
“Samantha.” His turn to reach for her hand, the soft skin achingly precious. “Can you be patient? I am not accustomed to sharing so much so fast.”
She could have taken the words the wrong way, but instead he saw that she accepted his true intent. As she squeezed his hand, she said, “When is dinner arriving?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“I can wait exactly twenty-one minutes.”
“How precise of you.”
“I am a scientist, after all.”
Looking into each other’s eyes, they waited, breathing in tandem, the moment knitting parts of him he’d abandoned as broken long ago.
Beep!
An alert on one of the screens took all of his focus, instantly.
A report. He scanned it quickly. No new cat sightings for hours. None of the cats had shifted into human form in public. The burst had, it appeared, tapered off.
Leaving a big mystery in its wake.
Samantha read over his shoulder, the heat of her breath on his neck, his self-control dissolving. How? How could he have gone for so long without sex, and have just had it with her, and want more?
The pace of his heartbeat quickened as he realized he had all the time he wanted with Samantha, who was, by all measures, quite pleased to be with him.
“Do you need to go?” she asked, seeming troubled at the pr
ospect.
“Go?”
“Work. Deal with Tomas. Whatever it is you do.”
“Not yet. I don’t— Well, I do not sense his presence. And my field agents are gathering tracking data. Until I receive more reports, no.”
“To think I assumed you sat in that nineteenth-century relic of an office upstairs and smoked cigars while dictating letters to your financial managers all day, Asher Stanton,” she teased. “I had no idea you did this with your time.” One hand swept around the room.
“I prefer to fly under the radar, as they say.”
“No kidding.”
“Dinner?” he asked just as her stomach growled, making them both smile.
“The body wants what the body wants,” she said.
His cock moved, the slow rise tantalizing as he grinned.
Oh yes, it does, he thought as they left the room.
Yes, indeed.
* * *
Sam had found Asher sexually attractive since the first moment she’d met him. She’d always respected his intelligence, his assurance, and even his domineering approach to his family, which she recognized as necessary among their kind.
Over the past few days, however, a deeper, fateful bond had forged between them. They heard the Beat, they’d made love, they’d begun to trust each other.
And she was beginning to feel something very complicated. She was actually starting to…
To like him.
As a human being. A friend. A partner.
How was that possible? Asher Stanton! The most annoying, impossible, arrogant man in the shifter and human world.
But for her, the only man.
With those thoughts twirling through her mind, she walked with him out of his bunker and back to her apartment below the lab.
“Thank you in advance for your patience,” he said, holding open the outside door for her. “I have just received notice that the meal will be delayed briefly. I pray the sea bass, caught this morning, is worth the wait.”
“I can wait for dinner, of course,” she said. “But regardless, you’re going to tell me about the prophecy in…” She looked at her watch. “Sixteen minutes.”
Chuckling, he took her hand and led her through the building to her downstairs apartment. “I do appreciate your insistence on punctuality,” he said. “I share it myself.”
They stepped into the apartment, which had been transformed while they’d been in Asher’s underground office. Someone had set a romantic table for them not far from the kitchen where they’d earlier been swept away by their passions. The overhead lights were dimmed, crystal candlesticks held flickering candles, soft music played. She felt Asher’s grip on her hand turn with purpose, clasping her wrist and forearm, then traveling up her arm to her shoulder. Her neck. The back of her neck. His lips followed his hand, and before she registered what either of them was doing, her arms were around his neck and his mouth was crushing hers in a deep, sensual kiss.
Each time she tasted his lips, she forgot what it was to be alone. His arms wrapped around her waist and held her firmly, no hesitation, no doubt.
How long would he be able to enjoy their time together before he remembered what he’d lost?
Were these moments together only that—moments?
He broke the kiss and looked down at her, nose to nose. “What’s the matter?”
She had to stop thinking about what could go wrong. They had to enjoy the time they had, right now, especially with the threat of Tomas looming over them.
“Nice kiss,” she said playfully, “but you’re still going to tell me about the prophecy.”
“Thirteen and a half minutes,” he said, claiming her mouth again.
They lost themselves in another kiss. He certainly didn’t seem like a cold, arrogant man anymore. His skin was hot, his breath was hot, his hands left paths of heat on her own skin, all over her body and inside where his spirit penetrated.
Mine, he said.
Mine, she agreed.
She turned her face. “Just tell me now and get it over with,” she gasped. “To hell with dinner. Let’s—there’s an actual bed in here somewhere—”
“No,” he said, gently pushing her away. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. “We must eat. You must be famished. I’m behaving abominably.”
“Thank heavens for that,” she said.
A grin flashed, but then he was all business again. “I’ve had them bring us a fairly good Chardonnay. Shall I pour you a glass?”
“Fairly good,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s probably something priceless from France.”
“The only thing priceless is you, Samantha.”
From another man it would’ve sounded manipulative, even cheesy. But from Asher… She put a hand over her heart and sighed. “I’d love some wine, thank you.”
He bowed and went to the bottle chilling in a silver bucket on the counter. “It was your colleague Zachary who unearthed the prophecy I mentioned.” He paused with a hand on the bottle, then poured. “The one that led me to accuse you of deceiving me. It is not often my temper gains the upper hand, but with you, it seems I scarcely know myself. I apologize.”
“Apology accepted. Now tell me.” She took the glass from him, kissing him on the cheek. “Please.”
He looked into her eyes. “I’ve memorized it,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to, but it’s there. Engraved in my mind.”
Seeing he needed her strength, she put a hand on his cheek, encouraging him to continue. “I’m here. I’m listening.” A chill ran through her.
He lowered his head until their foreheads were touching. “Yes. All right. I must share it, and you must hear it. Perhaps you’ll understand it better than I do.”
They stood there in silence a moment, each aware of something ancient and powerful swirling around them.
Sam held her breath, waiting to hear it—but when he spoke, it was as if she was hearing the words to an old song she already knew by heart.
“‘In the universal year after the Mayans are proven wrong,’” he began.
“That would be this year,” Sam said suddenly. “In 2018. Eleven in numerology. And there was that Mayan apocalypse in 2012 that didn’t happen.”
“Ah,” he said. “Your insight is already invaluable.”
“Please continue. I won’t interrupt again.”
“‘The fox,’” he continued, quoting with emphasis, “‘shall gain full power in a rising alliance with the king of the wolves. But do not be fooled. For only the pure wolf shall win. Should the fox join with the wolf, both shall reign. If the wolf’s blood is infected with betrayal, the fox must kill him. She cannot alone. Tiny visions have eternal power.’”
Her mind reeled. What she understood was enough to terrify her. A fox in alliance with the king of the wolves? How could that be her? And only the pure wolf… Did that mean Asher wasn’t the king anymore? Did she have to join with another? She wouldn’t. Certainly not to gain her full power, whatever that was. And she wouldn’t kill any wolf infected with anything, even betrayal. She was a scientist. She would heal and study, not kill.
“I have been thinking about the last line,” he said, stroking her hair. “Perhaps the tiny visions refer to the dreams I have from Tomas’ eyes. They do have terrible power.”
“But hopefully not eternal,” she said. Tiny visions. Eternal power. The fox. Infection. “Perhaps it’s somehow alluding to a contagion at the molecular level. A virus, perhaps, or a bacterium, visible only with a microscope.”
“That is it,” he said. “It must be.”
“It might be,” she amended, ever the scientist. The hypothesis would have to be tested.
“And you are a fox who has not yet gained her full power. Surely you can find answers in that laboratory of yours?”
“I will certainly try.”
“Is there nothing in your past that could explain this prophecy? Were you adopted, perhaps?”
“I was bitten by a fox. That’s it.”
> “You have red hair,” he pointed out.
“As do many others, none of them fox shifters that we know of.”
He sighed and brought the wineglass to his lips. A knock on the door indicated the food had arrived, and they fell silent for a few minutes as two servants entered, identified themselves to Asher’s careful perusal, and set up the meal.
When they were gone, Asher pulled out a chair for her. “You shall eat a decent meal and then tell me as much as you can remember about the incident with the fox during your childhood.” He took her wineglass from her, set it at her plate, and flashed her a purely wolfish smile. “And then we will work on raising that alliance with renewed vigor.”
Chapter 12
The food was exquisite. As usual, Chef Salay had created a gustatory masterpiece, pleasing Asher to no end. Tarragon seemed to be in vogue, twinned with thyme and lemon in a sauce that covered sea bass and root vegetables. There was filet in a reduced fig roux and capers mixed with grilled asparagus and grilled hearts of palm.
Samantha made sounds of pleasure as she ate. Asher cataloged each moan, creating a database that would compare.
And improve upon.
“My compliments to the chef,” she said, raising an empty wineglass that Asher filled happily.
“You shall tell her yourself tomorrow. Salina Salay has been our executive chef for more than two years now, a fine rabbit shifter from a family who has been in service to the Stantons for more than two centuries.”
Questions filled her eyes. So, so many questions.
“I will take you on a tour of the grounds. That is the least we shall do to introduce you to your new home. You have much to see, much to learn.”
The smile on her face froze at the words “new home.”
Her lovely throat tightened as she swallowed, hard. Setting her fork down, she primly wiped her mouth with her napkin, and then those eyes filled with questions turned on him.
Full force.
“New home?” she asked.
“Of course.” He smiled. “You feel the Beat. I feel it as well. The legend is clear. I thought it nonsense when Gavin experienced it with Lilah, but now… now there is clearly a prophecy of a different kind being fulfilled for my siblings. Lilah and Gavin. Jess and Derry. Molly and Edward. And Zachary… while he is not a born shifter, his power is unprecedented.” Taking her hand in his, he enjoyed the soft skin, her grip tight. That she did not pull away was a sign, too.
