He frowned. “I really don’t know what you mean by that.”
“Have you heard of werewolves?”
“Sure,” he said slowly.
“Like that. Only I shift into a cougar, a puma.” The puma in her didn’t like her giving the cougar example first. Her cat had always been quite adamant about her real name. But they called the big cats cougars up here.
It was quite evident by Dev’s expression that he didn’t believe her, didn’t know why she had told him this bizarre lie. Callie figured they just didn’t have time to work this out now. A real-life demonstration in the future perhaps, when life was a little less stressful, when the threat of Max had been neutralized.
Dev clenched a fist suddenly and locked gazes with her. “I can’t stand Scott being up there like that anymore. It really bothers me.”
“He pushed you this morning, Dev.”
His eyes widened as if just remembering. He gazed at her warily. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. It’s why you’re so upset about him being handcuffed in that room. Thing is, I don’t think you should be pushed again. Ever.”
Dev’s gaze darkened, with lust, she realized, though why that declaration should turn him on, she didn’t know. He closed the distance between them.
“I’m thinking,” he said in a low voice, “that a quickie might clear my head.” He slid an arm around her waist and smoothed hair away from her face. “I don’t know what the fuck to make of your talk about pumas, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about Scott who I know I can’t trust, but who I still want to help.” He nuzzled her neck, before tracing her collarbone with his tongue. “What I do know is that I want you.”
“Dev,” she murmured, melting into him.
If she hadn’t been so focused on Dev and his mouth and his hands, she would have noticed the intruder before he entered the house. He’d snuck in the back door and crossed through the kitchen before she even broke away from Dev to find a stranger standing in the hall facing them both. A slight smile played on his face. Recognizing a predator instantly, Puma went on high alert.
“Don’t move an inch, Dev,” the man commanded, and Dev froze, only his chest moving as he breathed too hard. Callie thought, Oh God, it’s Max. He pointed at Callie. “You don’t move either, unless I tell you to.”
Callie stiffened, which Max took to be a good thing, because his smile broadened and that smile turned ugly, feral. “Aren’t you a pretty thing? Where’d you come from?”
She blinked at the asshole.
“I asked you a fucking question. You answer. Where are you from?”
“The forest,” Callie said unthinkingly.
The brown-haired, brown-eyed man gestured impatiently, annoyed by her response. “Give me your name.”
“Callie.”
“Callie who?”
“Just Callie.” She’d actually taken Ruth’s last name, way back when, but Callie was the only name she felt belonged to her.
Frowning, Max directed his question at Dev. “Who is she?”
Uninflected answer, though Dev was trembling. “Ruth’s sister.”
“Heh. I like to do sisters. Where’s Ruth, Callie?”
She opened her mouth to explain that Ruth was on her way to Ian’s with Madison, then clamped her mouth shut. God. Max was working on her and she could feel it, the strain in her body. The puma in her was snarling at Max’s sudden leash on her, was enraged by the control and how Callie hadn’t noticed. That anger broke like a wave over Callie and the spell cracked open. Callie came back to herself. “None of your fucking business. Max.”
He drew himself up and her puma brain screeched, Danger.
They were in the hall and the only thing Callie could pick up as a weapon was a stool by the phone. She stepped towards Max, lifting the stool as she moved, and swung it down on him. He barely had time to lift his arm, trying to protect his head.
He crumpled against the wall.
“Dev,” Callie shouted. “Get out of here.” She glanced at him. He was glassy-eyed from the push and didn’t budge an inch.
She turned back to Max and time slowed to a painful crawl. Blood ran down the side of his face—he was wincing from the pain—but a gun was now gripped in his hand and it exploded.
Pain stabbed into her chest and her body jerked back. Her shoulders hit the wall and her knees began to give out.
Fucking idiot, she thought as she slid down the wall and hit the floor. She plastered a hand across her chest. A lung was pierced, but her heart, thank God, was still beating. She could shift.
She’d wanted to get Dev away from the monster. Instead she’d condemned her lover to a terrible fate, to Max’s whim. She started to fade as Puma screamed and clawed its way to the surface, determined to survive this assault. The last Callie could remember was crawling into the kitchen as Max’s voice assaulted Dev.
“You have nothing to fucking cry about, Dev.”
Dev wasn’t sure where the voice came from. He tried to focus. Couldn’t remember why he had tears running down his face. How embarrassing.
A palm slammed across his cheek, making his head swerve to the side. It came again from the other side and Max laughed.
Oh yes, Dev remembered Max. Though he couldn’t remember why Max’s cheek was split open and bleeding.
“You deserved that, for letting that bitch into this house. Don’t you agree, Dev?”
Max was usually right so Dev nodded.
“Look at me, you moron.”
Dev forced his gaze on Max, who was bruised and bleeding. Where had the blood come from? Max never let anyone hurt him.
“Someone tried to kill me, Dev.”
Dev tried to process those words, but who could possibly kill Max? The Minder was now wiping down a gun. Dev frowned at that and Max managed an awful grin.
“Don’t want my fingerprints on it, see? Just yours. You want your fingerprints on the gun. Because you are going to kill that girl, shoot her in the head.”
Dev’s vision began to turn black and Max gripped him by the shoulder, shaking him.
“You do not faint on me, Dev. You stay conscious and do exactly as I say. You are going to take this gun, follow that trail of blood”—Max grabbed the back of Dev’s neck and jerked Dev’s gaze towards an awful line of bright red that led to the kitchen—“and you are going to shoot that bitch Callie in the head. Because you don’t like violence and she tried to kill me. She’s dangerous, Dev.”
Dev couldn’t remember where he was so he closed his eyes.
“Wake up, Dev.”
He blinked awake.
“Tell me where Scott is.”
Dev frowned. He didn’t want Max to see Scott. Scott was terrified of Max and Scott’s terror hurt Dev.
Max grabbed Dev’s face, forcing him to look straight into his eyes. “God, you’re resistant. What the fuck is wrong with you? Where is Scott? You tell me.”
Dev’s mouth seemed to work on its own. Someone else spoke the words for him, because he didn’t want to. “Scott is upstairs in one of the bedrooms.”
“Good enough.” Max put a gun, of all things, in Dev’s hand. Where had the gun come from? “It’s all set,” said Max, as if Dev knew what he was talking about. “You just pull the trigger.” Once again, Max forced their gazes to lock and Dev tried not to recoil though he hated looking into those eyes. “You, Dev, are going to press the muzzle of this gun against Callie-from-the-forest’s forehead and you are going to pull the trigger. Kill her.”
Dev thought he might throw up. Max just patted his cheek and then bounded up the stairs. Halfway up, he stopped and looked down at Dev who hadn’t moved. “Tell me what you’re going to do,” Max said softly.
Something jerked his mouth open and formed words: “Go to the kitchen. Pull the trigger.”
“Excellent.” Max continued up and Dev looked down at the trail of blood.
He followed it into the kitchen. From far, far away, a voice screamed his name in terror, and Dev remembered Scott wa
s somewhere, but first he had a task to accomplish. If he could remember what it was. His memory was shit. So easily distracted. Despite Max’s instructions, Dev found himself listening for Scott, but only heard silence. Then he forgot everything, lost in time and space.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, unaware of what was going on, but the sound of purring entered his consciousness and he focused on the here and now. Gazing down, he saw a large cougar spread out on its side on the kitchen floor. It seemed shaken and…bloody. The poor thing had been shot, although Dev was finding it difficult to reconcile the newly healed bullet wound with the fresh blood on the floor. He shifted his gaze to stare into amber eyes and found them oddly familiar.
The purring continued and the cat rose, rather gingerly, to rub itself against his thigh. He went to pat it and realized he had a fucking gun in his hand.
“Jesus!” How could he forget a gun? His whole body began to shake as he tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. The cat continued to push against him in, he thought, affection, and with his free hand he did pat it. She—the cat seemed like a she, something about the eyes—took delight in the contact. Then collapsed on the floor. Perhaps the wound was worse than he thought.
He wished he could let go of the gun. He was so tired.
The cat seemed to go straight to sleep, and Dev’s vision began to blur or something, because the cat kept going in and out of focus, its body no longer quite cougar shaped. Even the fur was disappearing.
Dev was going insane, hallucinating.
From upstairs, someone screamed, startling Dev, and something within him came alive. Memories, jumbled and nonsensical, flashed before him. There were many things he was supposed to do, but the one that pushed at him most strongly was to protect Scott. Grimly he turned away from the blurry, imaginary cat and marched up the stairs.
The trigger, pull the trigger. An image of Callie flashed before his eyes and he stiffened before he dragged himself forward. The compulsion to turn and harm Callie hurt him, caused him pain, and he fought against it. He could resist. After all, he had been with Minders too long. Understood that their compulsions didn’t always work, especially when he fought. And fight he would. Most significantly, he recognized that the desire to shoot a lover could never belong to him. He did not inflict damage on those he made love to.
Besides, he thought, his mind taking an easier route than straight rejection of the push, Callie was gone. Escaped. Left her beloved cat in her wake. She loved cats though Dev couldn’t remember why.
The door to Ruth’s room, the door leading to Scott, had been left ajar, and Dev pushed it open.
Scott was weeping on the bed, nose bleeding, blood smeared on his hand. Max enjoyed beating people up and Dev didn’t like that. Somewhere within, the anger built, forcing out everything else that had been pushed on him.
Because Scott was naked too, and that made Dev furious. Scott didn’t like to be naked. Nudity scared Scott. He didn’t like touch much either. There were reasons for these fears, an ugly history that Dev could no longer remember.
Max was grinning down at Scott and Dev didn’t quite understand, because Max liked women. Then again, he also liked to torment and humiliate.
“Touch yourself, Scott. Touch your limp dick.” Max, who liked to enforce anything he damn pleased, was pushing Scott. The boy shook his head, his expression cringing, even while his hand crept down towards his crotch. He froze, catching sight of Dev in the doorway. Mistake, because Max realized they weren’t alone and spun to face Dev.
No time. Act. Dev pulled the trigger. Hit Max’s shoulder. Max moved his mouth to speak but Dev could not allow the enforcer’s words to push at him, not again. So this time Dev aimed properly, with two hands, aimed straight at that evil mouth. Pulled the trigger again. Hit the target before the words were formed.
Max’s head jerked back before he dropped to the floor, crumpling at the foot of the bed. Noise roared in Dev’s head, but not the noise of gunshots. Those had been silent. Dev stared at the body, at the blood blooming, already spreading across the hardwood floor. He tried to make sense of the scene, even if he had created it, even if he still had that gun pointed at Max. How could Max have been shot? Dev couldn’t quite remember. He was supposed to have put the muzzle of the gun against a forehead, but Dev had aimed for the mouth. Max’s mouth, that could wreak no further damage. Dev didn’t really want to look at the enforcer anymore. Didn’t really want to look anywhere. He heard sniveling in the background and was aware of Scott yanking clothes back on. Good, that meant someone had removed Scott’s handcuffs. Dev had wanted those damned handcuffs off the boy.
“My fingerprints are on the gun,” Dev said to no one in particular.
Chapter Fourteen
Callie dragged herself up the stairs. Despite the fact that she heard only two voices, Scott’s and Dev’s, she was terrified about what she might find. The puma in her was fighting to take control again, but Callie refused to yield. Two shifts in such a short period of time was exhausting and her body could not face a third right now. Besides, the human was desperate to find Dev.
From the doorway she saw a tearstained Scott who had never looked younger and a shell-shocked Dev who appeared to be staring out the window. On the floor lay a very bloody Max, his face shot out. Red stained the wood beneath him. It was an awful, mesmerizing sight. Even Puma was stunned.
“Dev?” she said softly.
He spun and dropped the gun he was holding, the same gun that had shot a now-healing hole in her chest. It was still tender. “Christ, Callie, don’t come near me or I might shoot you in the forehead.”
She blinked at that odd comment. “Dev, you just dropped the gun.” She pointed to the floor. “You’re not going to shoot me.”
Dev looked at his empty hand, baffled.
Huddled beside Dev, Scott gazed at Callie from across the room. She supposed she had better tell him not to speak again, given that Dev was in the room and not doing great after the Max encounter.
Scott opened his mouth and she raised her hand.
“I have no intention of pushing anyone,” Scott said wearily. “I wanted to explain that Max probably told Dev to shoot you. In the forehead.”
Dev’s expression became even more troubled.
“Well, he’s not doing a very good job of it,” Callie observed.
The joke fell flat. Dev stared at her, a little wild-eyed now, and she went to him. He took her in a bruising hug, even while he was shaking so.
“Hey,” she said soothingly, “you couldn’t even punch me when Scott told you to. What makes you think you could shoot me?”
“Max is stronger than I am and he likes to break people,” Scott supplied helpfully. But his voice cracked and he wiped his face.
Callie pulled back. This was no time to get lost in Dev’s touch. Already today she had been distracted by him when she should have protected everyone.
“Max won’t be breaking anyone anymore,” she pointed out.
Scott shook off her reassurance. “There will be Eleanor to deal with once she realizes Max hasn’t returned home. She’ll bring backup.”
“More Minders?” When Scott just nodded she looked at Dev. He didn’t speak, simply moved behind her and hugged her from the back.
Scott watched their interaction a little warily and she had the sense he didn’t like her standing between him and Dev. Like it or not, it was time to make one thing crystal clear to this pale, trembling boy. Because she was ready to destroy the next person who forced Dev, no matter how vulnerable Scott seemed right now.
“Scott, if you want to be with us at all, you have to promise you will never push Dev again.” She was close to snarling, she knew. “If you do, I am likely to kill you, though I don’t want to. Do you understand me?”
Scott held up his hands, palms facing her. “I promise, I promise.” Maybe he meant it. “Just don’t leave me behind.”
She frowned at his request. “Why not? Why don’t you want to stay
with your kind?”
“They’re not my kind,” Scott spat. “I hate them. I’m not like Max.”
“Okay,” she allowed. “Aren’t you drawn to them?” For better or worse, she was drawn to her fellow werecougars. “Won’t they welcome you? You could just make up a story about being ambushed by me and Dev.”
“Won’t work,” Dev murmured into her ear while Scott laughed, a high, forced sound with no humor in it.
“I can’t make up a story,” the boy said. “They’ll force the truth out of me. Eleanor is stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.” His voice dropped. “She controls me when I’m around her. I’m her zombie though technically Minders can’t be zombies.”
“Scott comes with us,” declared Dev. While Scott cast him a look of gratitude, Callie couldn’t help but wonder why Dev insisted on Scott’s company. It made her suspicious. “If nothing else, Callie, you don’t want him telling Eleanor where Ruth and Madison are.”
Okay, that was something she hadn’t considered. She decided not to argue against Scott coming along. Besides, she was hard-pressed to leave Scott with someone worse than Max. Despite her earlier words about killing the boy—something she’d only consider as a last resort—she had begun to feel responsible for the lost, dangerous youth.
“You can come with us,” agreed Callie, “if you do not push. If you do, if I ever find a shred of evidence that you have done it—”
“Okay, no more talk of killing, Callie.” Sounding exhausted, Dev rested his chin on her shoulder. “I think Scott’s got the message.”
It was true, that Scott seemed desperate and shaky. Which might have reassured her if she were not so furious about what had happened to Dev. And here he was once again, trying to defend Scott.
“Jesus, Dev, this kid has backtracked on you how many times?” She didn’t take her eyes off Scott who seemed to cringe. He was either an excellent actor or extremely frightened right now. “And you’re going to just blithely go along with him again?”
Dev nuzzled her neck, for her reassurance or his, she wasn’t sure. “I’m not blithely going along with anything, given that you’re going to kill him.”
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