Therian Prey

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Therian Prey Page 22

by Cyndi Friberg


  * * * * *

  “So what happens now?” It had taken several hours for Carissa to reverse the shift. She emerged exhausted and hungry. And naked! Erin had casually handed her a blanket to cover up with, but Carissa had no idea where she’d gotten it. Landon had said something about Therians being used to nudity. Judging by their lack of reaction to her predicament, Carissa was inclined to believe.

  Her legs were so shaky she barely made it back to Erin’s house. Quinn brought her a bathrobe then she devoured one sandwich as Erin hastily made another. Quinn sat beside her at the kitchen table. He kept touching her, rubbing her back and squeezing her knee. Did he think she was going to disappear or something? Ian sat across from her, silently staring.

  Carissa gulped down half a glass of milk then grumbled, “You two are acting like you’ve never witnessed a female’s first shift.”

  “You shifted into a black tiger.” Erin set the second sandwich down in front of Carissa then slipped onto the chair beside Ian. “That’s truly remarkable.”

  “Why?” She picked up the second sandwich and started munching.

  “Your first shift accomplished something no one else has done. You took elements from two of your guides and created something entirely new. Quinn has the recessive gene that creates black cats, but he’s a jaguar not a tiger.”

  “So, I combined Quinn’s recessive gene with Jake’s tiger?”

  “You created a shift never seen before,” Ian told her.

  “There are no Therian black tigers?”

  “You’re the only one.” Quinn grinned, his arm resting on the back of her chair.

  “If I can mix and match characteristics…”

  “You can transform into almost anything,” Erin confirmed.

  Her shift had been basically spontaneous, triggered by a powerful orgasm. It was certainly a pleasant catalyst, but a tad impractical. It still seemed unbelievable that one day she would intentionally transition from one form into another.

  Halfway through the second sandwich, Carissa’s head started pounding and her eyes refused to stay open. “Just like a baby.” She smiled. “Fill my stomach and I fall asleep.”

  “You expended a massive amount of energy. Anyone would be exhausted.” Quinn moved his hand from the chair to the back of her neck and began to rub.

  “That feels wonderful, but keep it up and you’ll have to carry me to our room.” He reluctantly stopped, and she started to push back from the table then her gaze flew to Ian. “You said I’d be able to sense Ava as soon as I was defined. How do I…flip the switch?”

  He shook his head. “You need to rest. Ava looked content in her hiding place. She can wait a few more hours.”

  “The primary reason I did this was so I can help find her.”

  “We understand that,” Erin said. “We want to find her as much as you do, but that doesn’t change reality. If you try to track her now, you’ll just be frustrated. Your energy stores need time to recharge.”

  She felt like a firmly wrung dishrag, so she begrudgingly relented. Quinn followed her into their bedroom and tucked her into bed. “It happened to me. I was there. So why doesn’t it seem real?”

  He leaned down and kissed her forehead, dark gaze caressing her face. “It will take time to adjust, but you’re well on your way.”

  She nodded, appreciating the reassurance, even if her mind was still resisting her new reality. She was a shapeshifter. A few hours ago she’d been a black tiger!

  With a heavy sigh, she rolled onto her side and tucked her hand under her cheek. It was dark again, but she had no idea if it was 8:30 p.m. or 3:00 a.m. The events she’d just lived through were monumental. It was hard to believe it had all taken place in just one day.

  Every muscle in her body begged for sleep, but her mind wouldn’t disengage. She saw the vault with all its priceless relics and the mysterious journal containing the history of her kind. Her kind. She smiled. She was an Omni Prime. An untrained, fledgling Omni Prime, but she could no longer deny her calling.

  The energy transfer had shown her so many things. She couldn’t wait to examine them one by one. Perhaps she’d write a journal of her own, detailing what she had learned. Or were the details already recorded? She’d have to read the Historians’ journals, find out how much of what she’d seen was already written down.

  Go to sleep! She rolled to her back and rested her forearm across her eyes.

  She’d taught herself some simple relaxation techniques after her mother died. Maybe she could coax herself into slumber if she utilized them now. She took a deep breath and pictured water flowing over her body, washing away her worry and speculation. She consciously released the tension for each individual muscle group, starting with her shoulders and working her way down.

  Her mind went blank, her chaotic images receding into the depths of her memory. For one blessed moment everything was calm then a circle of light gradually expanded, bringing an image into view. Like a fancy slideshow transition, the scene overtook the blackness and then came to life.

  A man in a camo jacket sat on the lowered tailgate of a truck. Beside him was an open case containing a rifle with a massive scope. His black boots were crossed at the ankle and he negligently swung his legs. He raised a pair of compact binoculars to his face and scanned from right to left. The image rotated then the perspective shifted and she was looking out through the binoculars.

  He was spying on the cat sanctuary! Why would anyone do that?

  The vision released as suddenly as it had started and Carissa sat up in bed. Quinn, can you come back here please? Clutching the sheet to her chest, she tried not to sound alarmed though her heart was beating wildly.

  The door pushed inward and Quinn stuck his head into the room. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m pretty sure I just saw the bastard who shot me.”

  He walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “What are you talking about? Did you have a dream?”

  “More like a vision.” Had those words just come out of her mouth? She gave herself a firm mental shake. She might as well get used to it. Mystical happenings were part of her life now. “I was trying to relax and the image just took over my mind. I think he’s out there right now, spying on the cat sanctuary.”

  “And why do you think it’s the same man who shot you?”

  “Because of the gun in the back of his truck.” He’d just watched her undergo an ancient ritual that fundamentally altered her physiology. Why would he doubt her vision? “I don’t know much about guns, but it looked like a sniper’s rifle to me.”

  “Could you tell where he was or did you just see the sniper?” He sounded less doubtful though still a bit wary.

  “I saw his truck, his gun and the binoculars he was looking through. For a second the vision shifted and I could see what he was seeing. That’s how I know he was spying on the sanctuary.”

  “Throw on some clothes. I’ll see if I can catch Ian.”

  She found the jeans she’d worn the day before and grabbed a t-shirt from the closet. It was much too big to be Devon’s but at least it was clean.

  Ian and Quinn waited for her in the living room. Both looked tense and ready for action.

  “When you looked out through his eyes, describe exactly what you saw,” Ian directed without pleasantries.

  “I saw the cat sanctuary. Lots of fences and the round building in the middle.”

  “Could you see the parking lot?”

  She thought for a moment then nodded. “It was on the right.”

  “Then he’s east of the property.” Ian scratched his chin, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Was there tree cover or any sort of building?”

  She closed her eyes and recalled the image. As the vision rotated, she caught a glimpse of his surroundings. “He’s inside a rustic structure. Maybe a barn.”

  “The old Wilson property has a dilapidated barn on it,” Erin said as she joined them in the living room. “Eli said all is quiet. Not so much as
a perimeter alarm has been tripped.”

  “He’s either waiting for reinforcements or he hasn’t spotted his specific target,” Quinn supposed. “I say we take him before he finds what he’s looking for.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Carissa dug in her heels and prepared for his objections.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carly stood in front of the conference room monitors, trying to stare down the grim-faced backers. Trepidation sped her pulse and dried out her mouth. She clasped her hands behind her back to hide the way they trembled and focused on Roberto, the pirate. She had interacted with him the most and felt more comfortable with him than the general or Madam Butterfly.

  “Have you been intimate with him?” Madam Butterfly asked.

  Didn’t they talk to each other? Carly had given Roberto a full report of her progress earlier in the day. He’d referred to Madam Butterfly as Tias, but Carly had no idea if that was her first or last name.

  “I have.” She glanced at Roberto, but like the others, he remained expressionless. “He’s starting to suspect my motivation.”

  “Let him think whatever he likes,” the general dismissed. “It makes no difference to our ultimate purpose.”

  Carly didn’t agree, but she knew better than to contradict a backer. If Osric didn’t trust her, allowing him to use her body was pointless.

  “If he thinks she’s working with us, he won’t tell her anything we don’t already know.” Tias made Carly’s point for her, and Carly mentally smiled.

  “You lost one of the test subjects today.” Apparently unwilling to argue with Tias, the general moved on. “Do you know what happened?”

  “The compound is only effective at a level that borders on toxic. Each time it starts producing results in their behavior, their bodies rebel. Flushing the chemicals from their system is generally enough, but we weren’t that lucky this time.”

  He accepted the explanation with a stiff nod then fell silent again.

  “You better back Osric off for a few days,” Roberto told her. “Let him stew then hopefully he’ll come after you.”

  He’d already come after her twice today. First in the steamy bathroom as she pressed up against the cool, tiled wall and later in her lab, as she worried that her coworkers would walk in and find her skirt bunched around her waist and Osric pumping into her from behind. He always took her from behind, as if her face disgusted him. Or he was thinking about someone else…

  “Is there something particular you’d like to know?” she asked. “It might be easier if I knew where to steer our conversations.”

  “We need to understand his obsession with the Seymour sisters. At first we thought it was the likelihood that he’s their father, but we’ve since learned that one of the young women was fathered by a wolf-shifter. We’re relatively sure he’s aware of this fact and yet he is equally interested in both.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Don’t push too hard,” Tias advised. “We’re in this for the long run and we don’t want him to shut down.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. Then carry on,” Roberto said. “And reformulate the compound. We cannot afford to lose any more cats.”

  * * * * *

  Quinn looked at Carissa’s stubborn profile and slowly shook his head. “There is no way you’re coming with us.”

  “How will you know if you’ve got the right guy?”

  “Truck, binoculars and a sniper rifle. I’m pretty sure there won’t be more than one.”

  “I’ll take a pass over the area from the air, see if I can pinpoint his location.” Ian grinned at Quinn. “You two fight it out while I’m gone.” He headed out through the back door, shedding his clothes as he went.

  Quinn closed the distance between him and Carissa and framed her face with his hands. “You’re exhausted and you’ve just come into your power. You need to learn how to control it. Let me do my job.”

  “There will come a day when I’ll fight at your side.” She made it sound like a vow.

  “Probably a whole hell of a lot sooner than I’d like.” He kissed her gently then wrapped his arms around her.

  “If you’re not back in half an hour, I’m coming after you.”

  “I like it better when you come before me, or when we come at the same time.”

  She slapped his arm and wiggled out of his embrace. “What will you do with him once you’ve caught him?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “If he really is the bastard who shot you, he’s a dead man.”

  Ian returned before she could respond. Luckily he’d paused long enough to pull on his jeans. “That was easy. He’s right where we figured, the abandoned barn on old man Wilson’s property.”

  “We’ll be back before you miss us,” Quinn promised.

  “Too late.” She smiled. “I miss you already.”

  Quinn walked out on to the back porch with Ian. The night was cool and clear, stars stretched for as far as the eye could see.

  “She’s going to keep you hopping,” Ian predicted. “I think I’m glad she picked you.”

  “I know I’m glad she picked me.” He fought back a happy grin and focused on the task at hand. “How do you want to do this? At least one of us should probably drive so we have some way of getting him back here once we’ve secured him.”

  “I’d always rather fly.”

  “Can’t say I blame you. Fly in and distract him and I’ll sneak up from behind. Just don’t get yourself shot.”

  Ian chuckled. “Sounds almost like you care.”

  “Erin would miss you if you got shot, and she’s got enough to deal with right now.”

  “That’s more like it.” Ian laughed.

  “I’ll bring your pants.”

  “Good. Don’t want him to misunderstand the handcuffs.” Ian shifted right out of his jeans and took to the air.

  Quinn watched him disappear into the darkness then realized his truck was at the cat sanctuary. “Shit!” He snatched Ian’s jeans off the concrete, noting the telltale weight in the back pocket. He hadn’t been kidding about the handcuffs. Quinn ran back inside the house. “Erin, can I borrow your keys. Ian just took off and my truck is—”

  “SUV’s in the garage. Keys are in the ignition,” she called from the living room. “Bad habit, I know.”

  “Got a gun?” He was humiliated to ask. Everything he needed was in his truck, but his truck was parked outside the sanctuary.

  “Under the seat and it’s loaded, so be careful.”

  He rushed into the garage and dug the gun out from under the seat. “Nothing like being prepared.” If Ian weren’t flying into danger, this would have been funny.

  He climbed into her SUV and jerked the mirrors into alignment. Then he paused to check out the gun as the garage door slowly opened. Springfield XD, .9mm. Not bad. The engine turned over with a roar and he backed out of the garage.

  Old man Wilson had still been alive when Quinn lived with Erin, so he knew the barn Ian had mentioned. The main access road approached from the front, but there was also a narrow maintenance road dissecting the fields that would bring him out behind the barn. The fields were overgrown, the road barely discernable. Thank God Erin drove a SUV.

  He cut the lights and tried to keep the engine at a steady drone. Hopefully Ian realized it would take him longer to arrive by truck than an eagle could fly. When the barn came into view, he cut the engine entirely and rolled to the edge of the barnyard. He turned the dome light off, grabbed the gun with one hand, Ian’s jeans with the other, then eased the door open.

  Activating his feline vision often made his eyes glow, so he didn’t risk it as he crept toward the back of the dilapidated barn. An eagle’s sharp cry split the night and spurred Quinn into motion. He ran for the barn and ducked through the doorless threshold.

  The human stood several paces from his truck, arms folded over his head, shoulders slumped protectively as Ian swooped
and slashed at the man’s back, arms and shoulders.

  Quinn whistled and tossed the jeans off to one side, making sure Ian saw him do it. “Drop to your knees and I’ll call him off.”

  “This fucking bird is yours?” The man’s voice sounded shrill, panicked. “You’re in for one hell of a lawsuit!”

  “You’re on private property, asshole. I can shoot you where you stand.”

  The man turned and sneaked a peek at Quinn from between his folded arms. “Call it off.”

  “Get on your knees and lock your hands behind your head.”

  After another hesitation, the man obeyed.

  Ian flapped his wings, shooting into the shadows at the far end of the barn. It was Quinn’s turn to distract their prisoner.

  With the .9mm clasped between his hands, he worked his way around until he faced the man. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just needed somewhere to crash for the night. Thought the place was deserted.”

  “This a little off the beaten path. Odd place for a homeless man.”

  The stranger glared up at him. “I never said I was homeless. Just didn’t think anyone would care.”

  Ian walked out of the darkness, holding his handcuffs and wearing his jeans. “Cry me a river.” He snapped the cuffs onto one wrist then brought both arms down and behind the stranger’s back before securing the other side.

  “Where did you come from?” He craned his neck, trying to get a better look.

  “Don’t worry about him. I’m the one with the gun,” Quinn reminded.

  “Yeah, he attacks with talons. Doesn’t he?” Belligerence lit the stranger’s eyes as he revealed that he knew what they were. Or at least what Ian was.

  “Now that was really stupid.” With one arm, Ian hauled the smaller man to his feet. “You see, we kill anyone who learns our secret. We weren’t sure if you were a threat or just someone in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I know exactly what you are and the rest of my team is on their way. If I disappear, they’ll burn this place to the ground.”

  Quinn motioned to the barn surrounding them. “Not much of a loss.”

 

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