His brother turned his hard blue gaze on him. "Want to tell me what happened here?"
He knew it looked bad from where his brother sat, but the last thing he wanted to do was go through the whole fucking nightmare one more time.
Turner shrugged. "Wrong place at the wrong time."
Chase muttered something inaudible under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did she see you shift?"
Turner glanced at Riley and shook his head. "I don't know."
"Dammit, Turner, your obsession with Boyd has gone too far. You'll be lucky if they don't suspend you permanently for this."
That's what he was worried about.
"I need you to keep it under the radar for a bit. Give me a couple of weeks. Let me dig around—"
"The Council will want answers when you bring her in." Chase gestured to the mound of golden fur that lay motionless across the room. "How do you plan on keeping this a secret?"
"I was kind of hoping you could keep her at your place for the time being."
A grimace tightened Chase's features. "You want me to babysit a three-hundred-pound lioness, while you go searching for ghosts?"
"There's something here. I can feel it in my bones. You know as well as I do that if I take them to the Council, they'll erase Riley's memory, and I'll never get what I need from her. Not to mention what they'll do to Kiera. She'll be locked up with the others, with no chance of ever shifting back. I was in her head. She's still in there. Maybe you'll have better luck than I did getting through to her."
Chase sat back on his heels and exhaled a long frustrated breath. "One week. I'll give you that before I bring her in." His hard gaze returned to the redhead who lay unconscious beside him. "And what about her?"
"I'll deal with Riley. I may need her if I'm going to get to the bottom of these random morphings."
"You really think Boyd would infect his own daughter?"
Turner gave a short, sarcastic laugh. "You have to ask? You read the files. The man was certifiably insane. A psychopathic killer with no regard for—"
Chase held up his hands. He stood, crossed the room and gripped Turner's uninjured shoulder. "Boyd's dead. I don't know who or what is behind this, but it's not him."
"You're wrong. I can feel it."
Chase dropped his hand and frowned. "One week."
Turner nodded. "One week."
He would find out who was behind this mess, and if he had to use and manipulate Boyd's oldest daughter to get that information, so be it.
It was time Riley knew what kind of monster Richard Boyd truly was.
Chapter 3
Turner sat on the edge of the couch and placed a cool cloth on Riley's forehead. She'd been unconscious for less than ten minutes, but it was enough time to load the lion's body into Chase's truck.
Riley stirred beside him. "Kiera." Her moan was weak, a small cry of pain filled with confusion.
She was going to have one hell of a headache when she woke up.
How was he going to explain this to her? If she thought she was tripping earlier, she was in for one reality-shattering revelation when he informed her that her sister was currently stuck in lion form.
He picked up a silver-framed picture from the floor. It was a candid shot of the Boyd sisters, laughing and holding long, plastic daiquiri glasses somewhere on the Vegas strip. Unlike her redheaded bombshell of a sister, Kiera was petite, her dark hair and big blue eyes giving her a look of innocence.
Fucking Boyd. Despite what Chase thought, Turner was convinced the lunatic was behind this. It was too much of a coincidence that his youngest daughter had been infected. But what kind of bastard would do something like this to his own child?
With a heavy sigh, he placed the picture on the coffee table.
Riley whimpered and her eyelashes fluttered open.
Crouching beside her, he removed the cloth and pushed a damp piece of hair off her cheek. "You hit your head pretty hard. Don't try to sit up yet, or you'll be sick."
Her unfocused eyes went wide. She rolled over, placed her feet on the ground and tried to stand up. "I have to fi-find my sister."
She stumbled forward, and Turner gripped her shoulders to stop her from doing a head dive onto the floor.
"You need to lie down. Kiera's fine."
"Where is she?" Beads of sweat broke out over her brow, and she groaned. "I-I need to see her."
He pushed her back onto the couch. The last thing he needed was puke all over his brand new Gucci jeans. There was a reason he'd taken them off before shifting.
Her gaze darted around the room.
Taking her chin between his fingers and thumb, he forced her to look at him. "I need you to listen to me."
Her gaze drifted down to the four puncture wounds on his shoulder. "You're bleeding." Her eyes went wide and she jerked back, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Whe-where is it?"
Shit, she was going to lose it again if he didn't do something fast. In his human form, his psychic abilities were restrained, but he needed to try. He grasped her hands and held on when she tried to pull away. Concentrating on her face, he focused on the energy around them.
Heat infused them, and her expression softened as the warmth he created flowed through her like a natural sedative. Her shoulders dropped, and she let out a deep, levelling breath.
"The lion's gone." He glanced down. The delicate, pale skin of her hands was a sharp contrast next to his calloused, sun-bronzed fingers. "Kiera is safe. She's with my brother."
"Your brother?" Her green eyes swam with tears and she shook her head. "I don't understand. Who-who are you?"
Was he really prepared to tell her? If the agency found out what he was about to do he'd lose more than his job. But if he was ever going to prove Boyd's hand in all this, Turner needed Riley's cooperation.
"My name's Turner Payne. I work with an organization that handles these type of…situations." He hesitated. "There's a lot I need to explain to you, but you have to be willing to believe me. Can you do that?"
She bit her lip and gave a slight tilt of her head. He took it as a yes.
"You studied biology at Penn State, right?"
Her frown deepened. "I did my Master's degree in evolution and genomics. How did you know that?"
Because he'd kept a close eye on her and Kiera over the past four years. He had multiple files filled with detailed information about her life, but he wasn't about to tell her that. He could feel his control slipping, the energy starting to give way to her frayed nerves.
"You know that hominids have continued to evolve over the millennia, and that there have been subspecies that have lived side by side in relative peace with modern humans."
"Neanderthals and Denisovans." Her brows furrowed. "But what does that have—"
"There's another subspecies that has evolved alongside humans. Classified as Homo sapiens metamorphs."
"Metamorphs?" She gave a nervous chuckle.
"Their genome is characterized by several mutations, specifically affecting the fourteenth and twentieth chromosomes. Normally mutations of this magnitude would be debilitating, but in the case of metamorphs, the anomaly is a strength instead of a weakness," he explained, using the Therian Council's classification of shifters. He didn't know what half the shit meant, but with her background in genetics, he assumed Riley would. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the couch. He continued, "Based on the amino acid sequence on chromosome fourteen, the metamorph has the ability to shapeshift into a specific animal form."
A high-pitched laugh escaped Riley's lips and she sat upright. "You're talking about werewolves?"
Why the hell were people so obsessed with werewolves? They were cheats and liars, the lot of them. Wolves weren't much better than their coyote cousins.
He exhaled a frustrated breath. "Or werelions."
She stared at him for a long moment. He could almost see the gears working in that pretty little head of hers.
"Werelions?" Her intelligent gre
en eyes were rimmed with red, her face too pale. The shock of everything that transpired clearly etched on her features. "Are you trying to tell me you think the animal that was here—in my living room—was actually a human, somehow magically turned into a lion?"
"It's not magic, it's genetics. And yes, that's what I'm saying." Now for the real kicker. "And that wasn't just any werelion. It was Kiera."
"As in my sister Kiera?" She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. "And I thought I was the crazy person here."
She pulled her hands free of his, breaking the aura he'd created around them.
"Riley, listen to me—"
Standing on unsteady legs, she pushed past him and called out Kiera's name as she rushed to the bedroom. With a frustrated sigh, Turner stood slowly and followed her.
When he got to the bedroom, Riley was standing over Kiera's bed, holding what Turner could only assume was the remnants of the nightgown and underwear Kiera had been wearing before she shifted.
"Where is she? If you've done anything to her…" Her voice was soft, but he could hear the tremor of dread that resonated in each word.
He took her by the shoulders, turned her around and wrapped his arms around her. It was an uncharacteristic gesture. He knew he would regret it later, but the look of despair beneath those emerald green eyes wrecked him.
She sank against him and her body trembled against his.
Tilting her chin up with his thumb, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I know it's difficult to believe, but what I told you is the truth."
"Okay." She pushed away from him. Still holding the shredded material, she paced the small room. "Say I believe you. How do you know all this?"
Turner rubbed the back of his neck. He'd never told anyone his secret before. It was prohibited, a breach in protocol for a Therian agent to expose himself to anyone other than his mate or another metamorph, and Boyd's daughter was neither. Sure, he was attracted to her. Any breathing male with two eyes in his skull would be, but Riley Boyd was not, and would never be, his mate.
But if he had any hope of convincing her to help find the bastard responsible for this, he needed her to believe him.
Screw protocol. "I know about it because I'm a carrier of the metamorph genes."
Her eyes widened and her jaw went slack. "You want me to believe you're a werewolf?"
Turner growled low in his throat. "A werelion. There's a big fucking difference."
She put her hands up in defense and took a step back. "Okay, so you're a werelion. I'm supposed to believe this because…"
Damn, the woman was stubborn. If she wouldn't take his word for it, then he would have to show her. Unbuckling his belt, he shimmied out of his pants.
"Whoa, again with the undressing. Is there a reason you keep stripping in front of me?"
"I like these pants, and as far as I can tell, you don't have anything my size to change into if they get shredded. Move back."
Riley took two quick steps back until her legs touched the edge of the bed. The mattress squeaked as she sat down.
When he started to remove his boxer briefs, her cheeks turned a deep scarlet and she looked away.
"You ready for this?"
Her eyes averted, she mumbled something incoherent.
Hoping he wasn't about to make the biggest mistake of his life, he shifted.
Chapter 4
Riley's heart had officially stopped beating, she was sure of it.
No, no, no. This wasn't right.
In front of her stood the most magnificent and terrifying creature she had ever seen. Twice the size of the lion that had been in her sister's bed, its head crowned in a glorious dark mane, it watched her with intense silver eyes.
C'mon Riley, wake up. How hard had she hit her head?
She bit her lip and swallowed past the lump in her throat. If she hadn't seen the transformation with her own eyes, she never would've believed it was possible. Even now, she had her doubts.
In what couldn't have been more than a few heartbeats, he'd transformed from a smoking hot, extremely naked man, into a lion.
No, not a lion—a werelion—that was what Turner had called it. Called himself.
She shivered and rubbed the goosebumps that prickled her arms.
I've been sucked into one of Kiera's twisted sci-fi novels.
She considered herself a grounded person, a realist. Kiera was the flighty one, always brimming with imagination and dreaming up crazy ideas. How would her sister react if she were here, staring into the eyes of very large, very scary lion? A lion that had been a man only a few moments before.
Strong, thick jaw, heavy paws, rippling muscles under golden fur—he was incredible. Scary, yes, but also beautiful. She'd never been this close to a wild animal before, but then he wasn't really an animal. Was he?
Riley rubbed her temples, not taking her eyes off him. She winced when she touched the bump on her head. The room spun and her stomach lurched. She exhaled slowly and pushed through the nausea.
What had happened to her sister? If Riley believed what Turner had said, then her sister had magically—no, genetically—transformed into a lion. A hysterical laugh escaped her lips as reality seemed to punch her straight in the gut.
How was any of this possible?
Turner's simplified explanation of chromosomal abnormalities didn't correlate with her knowledge of genetics. Two degrees and six years of post-secondary education had done nothing to prepare her for what she faced now.
The lion moved towards her. Riley grabbed the edge of the bed and sat down.
Placing its large muzzle in Riley's lap, a soft hum vibrated from the animal's chest.
Was it purring? She could feel the heat of his breath on her bare legs. Oh God, this was seriously happening.
I won't hurt you. The words vibrated through her mind, as if Turner had spoken them aloud.
She wanted to leap backwards on the bed, but the lion's heavy head held her immobilized.
A warmth, like the one she'd felt in the living room, washed over her, and she expelled a shuddering breath.
With slight hesitation, she reached out and stroked the thick fur of his mane. The hair was course, and yet soft at the same time. His eyes closed and the hum in his chest became a more distinguished rumble.
"Sorry," she said, pulling her hand back.
This was no illusion. She could see him, feel him, smell him. She inhaled the rich, musky scent. Not even a brain aneurysm could cause such a vivid hallucination.
"All right. As insane as this is, I believe you." What other choice did she have?
The lion's nostril's flared.
Someone is here. Turner's voice resonated in her head.
"Kiera? Riley?" A male voice echoed down the hall. "Are you here?"
"Shit. It's Marcus." No other man could sound so irritatingly pompous and annoyingly boyish at the same time. The lion crouched low and bared his teeth. "I'll deal with it." She pushed herself off the bed, and as a second thought pointed her finger at him and ordered, "Stay."
He responded with a low guttural growl.
She shook her head and slipped out the door, closing it behind her.
Marcus was bent over, studying something invisible on the ceramic tile of the foyer.
The stench of his cologne made Riley sneeze.
He quickly shoved whatever he had been looking at in his pocket and stood. His eyes widened when he glanced at her. "Christ, Riley. What happened?"
She touched her head, feeling the dried blood that had caked in her hair. "I tripped over the coffee table. I'm fine."
He took a step towards her. "You don't look fine."
Ice seeped down her spine as Marcus' dark gaze roamed over her body. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her chest. "What are you doing here?""
His gaze darted over her shoulder in the direction of her sister's bedroom. "I'm here to see Kiera."
She stepped in front of him when he started towards the bedroo
m. "She's not here."
Red creeped up his neck and his gaze narrowed. "Where is she?"
God, he was acting weirder than normal. "Why?"
"I was supposed to meet Kiera for coffee. She didn't show. I tried calling her cell, but she's not picking up."
Coffee? Really Kiera?
The guy was a creep. Stalker material. What was her sister thinking leading him on like that? Since their father's death, Marcus hovered over them like a long-lost relative seeking out the family's hidden gems. Too bad they didn't have any.
"Like I said, she's not here."
"Where—is—she?" With each overly pronounced word, he took a menacing step towards her.
What the hell?
She knew he had a few screws loose, but this macho business was a bit much, even for him.
Before she had a chance to tell Marcus where to go, a large, muscular, arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against an extremely naked chest.
"She's with my brother." Turner said, barely concealing a low growl that vibrated against her back. "They hooked up last night. If I know Chase, I doubt they'll be out of bed before dinner. Now, if you don't mind we were kind of in the middle of something before you showed up."
Too stunned to respond, Riley looked over her shoulder, mouth agape at the smoking hot man who had just insinuated that they had spent the night together. Not that the thought repulsed her. Every nerve ending in her body decided to go on high alert the moment Turner touched her.
Marcus' lips twitched in a snarl as he looked to Riley for confirmation.
Better to have him believe she had hooked up with Mr. Hottie, than to know the truth. She needed answers, and she wasn't going to get any with Marcus poking around.
She nodded towards the door. "I'll let Kiera know you stopped by."
He ignored her and pierced Turner with a cynical look. "Do I know you?"
Turner scratched the dark stubble on his jaw. "Don't think so."
Marcus' face turned a deep shade of red, and the vein above his temple looked like it was ready to explode. If Turner was trying to piss the man off he'd succeeded.
"The SUV out front, is it yours?" Marcus bit out through clenched teeth.
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