Mark Of The B*E*A*S*T*

by Rebecca Goings

  "Y-yes, I...I—"

  "No, you don't,” he bit out, advancing on her. “You left me two months ago, woman. And before that you begged me to kiss you and called me a coward for not making love to you. I have been searching Florida high and low all this time, hoping I'd find you before that son of a bitch Carver sank his claws into you. So don't you dare tell me you have a mate, Robyn."

  She swallowed hard, but held her ground. He stood right in front of her, intimidating her with his size alone. She had to look up to gaze into his eyes, which were a deep shade of brown. But they seemed to flash gold with his anger.

  He looked down her frame, making her painfully aware of her state of undress. Without another word, he tugged out of his shirt and handed it to her. “Here. As much as I want to look at you, you deserve some decency. It's wet with swamp water and sweat, but you get what you get, right?"

  While his shirt dangled from his hand, Robyn perused him in much the same way he'd perused her. His skin was tanned, as if he was used to going without a shirt in the sun. The skin of his chest was covered in short hair that peppered his pecks and converged in a line that disappeared down his belly into his jeans.

  His muscles were just defined under his skin, not overly bulging, yet not non-descript either. He was perfection, pure and simple.

  "Well?"

  She stared at him.

  "You gonna put on this shirt or am I going to get an eyeful all the way back to Miami?"

  Robyn snatched his shirt and slipped it on, taking care to fasten every button. The shirt only reached to her mid-thigh, but at least it covered everything. Mostly.

  "He ever touch you?"

  Mac's unexpected question caught her off guard. She'd been Dylan's mate for a few weeks now, having been thrown in the same cell together by the scientists. He had also been an owl, forced to shift into his bird state most of the time, just as she had been.

  "Well,” she began, “we used to perch on the same branch."

  Mac opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then opened it once more. “What?"

  "He was an owl. Like me. We were made to share the same cell, but hardly ever as humans. They gave us an injection that forced us to shift. But then we couldn't shift back. I remember a few tree limbs and a nest. It was as if the scientists wanted me to lay eggs or something."

  He stood there in silence for a few moments before his deep-throated laughter filled the air.

  "It's not funny."

  Her words seemed to make him laugh that much harder. Before she knew it, she was in his arms as he hugged her tight, lifting her feet off the ground.

  "Dear God, I've missed you,” he said, taking a deep breath.

  She took a deep breath as well. He smelled earthy, just the right combination of man and cologne. Her face pressed into his neck and her hands found their way to his bare shoulders. She wished she could remember him, for the sake of her libido, because she suddenly wanted to do much more than hug him.

  Mac set her down and held her at arm's length with a wide grin on his face.

  "Why are you smiling?” she asked warily, keenly aware that her mouth was now bone-dry.

  "Because you, my dear, have no idea of the meaning of the word ‘mate.’ This Dylan character has no claim to you. There needs to be a spark. An attraction. Did you have that with him?"

  She thought for a moment. “He was a handsome bird."

  The frustrating man laughed again. “Bet he didn't get your motor runnin’ though, did he?"

  "I never laid any eggs, if that's what you're implying."

  His large hand suddenly cupped her cheek while he gazed down at her. The smile he gave her stole her breath. “I can get your motor runnin'. I've done it before, baby, and I can do it again."

  Her eyes widened at his audacity. She stepped away from him. “I don't even know you."

  "Oh, you know me, all right,” he replied, following her. “And if I have to spend my life reminding you, then so be it. I didn't come all this way to find you just to let you go roost with some owl shifter."

  She stared at him and bit her lip. The way he spoke to her made her wonder just what, exactly, they'd shared.

  "Are...you...my mate, Mackenzie?"

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “No. Like I said, you don't have a mate."

  She glanced at her feet, refusing to look at him again, refusing to acknowledge the disappointment that rippled through her.

  "And the name's Mac."

  "You said it was Mackenzie."

  "But I prefer Mac."

  She scoffed. “And I prefer Mackenzie."

  He didn't answer but she knew he was preturbed. Let him be. The man unsettled her like nobody's business. Perhaps it was time he got a taste of his own medicine.

  "You said something about Miami?” she asked, finding the courage to look at him again.

  "I did. It's where the others are staying."

  "The others?"

  "Don't worry about it. You'll meet them soon enough."

  With one last glance at the B*E*A*S*T* compound, Robyn followed him as he retrieved his guns and ammo from the ground before leading her to his waiting airboat. She tried to ignore the touch of his hand when he helped her climb aboard.

  Robyn had no idea if going with him was the best course of action, but right now, she had no other choice. She couldn't stay alone in the Everglades any longer. He'd help her get back to civilization, where she could make her own decisions about her future. That was probably the only thing over which she now had any control.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  THREE

  Good. The green Hummer was still right where he'd left it. It was in the middle of nowhere, parked amidst the trees on the edge of the swamp. Chances were high that nobody would have found it, but Mac hadn't been so sure. Relief flowed through him at the sight.

  He felt a pang of remorse at leaving some guy's airboat adrift in the water. But when he'd stolen it, he hadn't been thinking clearly. All he'd cared about was getting to Robyn, no matter the cost. Ah well. The authorities would find it sooner or later and return it to the owner.

  Thankfully, traveling through Florida with his friends and their mates, Mac had anticipated finding Robyn in a state of undress. He'd brought a change of clothes for her, but if he'd thought things through before simply reacting, he would have had the foresight to bring them with him to the compound rather than leave them in the back of the truck. He sighed at his penchant for jumping the gun.

  Mac opened the back of the truck and rummaged through the side compartments, pulling out the pink t-shirt and faded jeans Marlie had given him. The panties and bra had him clearing his throat, but he managed to turn and face Robyn with some degree of decorum.

  "Marlie donated these for you,” he said, handing them to her. “They're clean and better than my sweaty shirt."

  Robyn took them tentatively. “Thanks."

  She stood there watching him as he grabbed a black t-shirt for himself out of the compartment as well. Having extra clothes was a hazard of being a shifter. Never knew when the need to shift would strike. Having a change of outfits handy was always a good idea. He donned the shirt and glanced back at her.

  "What's the matter?"

  "Where can I dress?"

  Mac blinked in confusion. Right. Privacy. Dumbass.

  He wandered to the front of the Hummer. “I won't look. Promise."

  His keen ears heard her rustling with the clothes, and his overactive imagination ran away with him. He'd already seen her naked, and that image would be burned onto his brain for eternity. Robyn was a stunning woman, and just thinking about her had his erection begging for some attention. Damn. He had to get a rein on his lust. She'd be able to smell it.

  He shook his head and chuckled to himself. It was a lost cause. There'd be no way he'd be able to hide it from her. And holy crap, he didn't want to. He'd been itching to find her for months. Now that she was with him, he was through playing games.

  It
was a well known fact that B*E*A*S*T*'s mind-wipes weren't infallable. Every shifter he'd come across had remembered some sort of flashes from their earlier lives. Perhaps the mere fact that it hadn't been that long since she'd been wiped would work in his favor. He longed to know if she had any remembrance of him at all. He needed to know. For his own sanity.

  There was a time she desired him. He'd make her desire him again.

  "I'm done."

  He turned to look at her and sucked in his breath. The late afternoon sun bathed her face and caught the auburn highlights in her dark hair. She looked good in pink. Damn good. It brought out the blue of her eyes and complimented her light complexion. He couldn't resist touching her.

  His hand roved up her arm, feeling her soft skin. She was actually in front of him, after all this time without her. She didn't back away, but her scent was guarded, and she peeked at him through her lashes.

  He wanted to cup her cheek. He wanted to pull her closer and taste her mouth, to remember her exotic flavor. But she was scared and unsure. He didn't have it in him to

  pounce on her. Not yet, anyway.

  "You're beautiful,” he whispered, looking her up and down.

  "Thanks.” She shifted her stance, drawing his gaze down to her feet. They were still bare and he cursed himself.

  "I'm sorry I don't have anything for your feet. We'll stop at a mini-mart on our way back and I'll pick you up some flip flops."

  Robyn grabbed her stomach and made a face. “Do you have any food?"

  "Good Lord, you must be starving.” He breezed past her to the back of the truck once more, rooting around for the energy bars he knew were in there. “I don't have anything to drink, but if we get going, I'll buy you a soda the size of a bathtub at that same mini-mart."

  Her scent followed. She was right behind him. He turned slowly, so as not to startle her, and handed her two raspberry bars.

  "These are good. You'll like—"

  She embraced him without a word. Her arms tightened around his neck and stirred something deep within his heart, something more than mere lust. He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe from the bastard who'd taken her from him in the first place. She'd been experimented on by B*E*A*S*T* twice—once in Oregon, once in Florida.

  He vowed there wouldn't be a third time.

  Mac returned her hug, somewhat hindered by the food in his hands. But he didn't argue. He pressed her closer regardless.

  "When you walked by,” she said, without letting go, “I smelled you. Your scent. It's familiar.” Robyn took a deep breath, raising every hair on his body. His heart soared at her words. She remembered something. It wasn't much, but it was a start. He had to let go of her before he did something he'd regret, but his arms weren't listening to his brain.

  "Smells are the biggest trigger of memory,” he said in her ear, inhaling her as well. She shivered.

  "You came for me.” Her words seemed innocent, as if she was in awe that he would even bother.

  "I would have searched the ends of the Earth for you."

  She held on tight, almost as if she was afraid to let go.

  "Thank you, Mackenzie."

  He groaned. If there was ever a time he wanted to tip her head back and kiss her senseless, it was now.

  "You're welcome.” Instead, he kissed her forehead and pushed away, still holding the energy bars. She took one and stepped back, avoiding his gaze. “Come on, let's get the hell out of here."

  Mac slammed the back door of the Hummer and rounded the driver's side. Robyn made her way to the passenger side and climbed in as well. Before he started the engine, he took a hard, long look at her while she took a bite of her bar.

  "I'll never hurt you, Robyn.” She glanced up at him with trusting eyes. “Ever."

  The smile she gave him made his heart flutter in his chest.

  "You're a good man."

  He chuckled and turned the key in the ignition. “Good, eh?” he said, tossing a grin her way. “Guess it depends on who you ask."

  With that, he pulled away from the Everglades and never once looked back.

  Robyn stayed in the truck while Mac went into the convenience store on Highway 41 to buy her a drink and some flip flops. It had taken a couple of hours to get there after leaving the swamplands, and she'd ended up eating the second energy bar after all. She felt a little better, but now she was thirsty. It didn't take long before Mac emerged, coming to her on the passenger side.

  She opened the door and accepted the huge fountain drink he'd gotten, taking a few long, blessed sips. The cool liquid slid down her throat and made her sigh with contentment. Robyn opened her eyes to see Mac staring at her while pulling the tags off her sandals.

  "That's really good,” she said, gasping for breath.

  "I can tell,” he answered, giving her a lopsided grin. “Give me your feet."

  She turned on the seat and obeyed, watching as he gently wiped off any dirt from her skin. The touch of his fingers tickled, but it also awakened something familiar, something deep down. She knew this man. If her brain didn't recognize him, her body sure did. Suddenly, she was imagining his palms underneath her jeans, warming her calves as they inched their way up her legs.

  Instead, Mac placed the pink sandals—complete with flamingos wearing sunglasses on the soles—on her feet.

  "There we go,” he said jovially, snapping her out of her daydreams. “Now you look like a proper tourist."

  "Thanks,” she said before taking another sip of soda. “You're my hero."

  She'd meant her words to be light and jovial, but they ended up having a double meaning. Mac looked at her sharply, his brown eyes flashing gold. Her smile faded as she held his gaze, suddenly feeling her heart pick up speed. Something spicy filled the air, a scent she'd smelled before but couldn't place. It came from him, and her body responded before she could stop it.

  Robyn's nipples chaffed underneath her borrowed bra, and her panties were damp. Good Lord, it was desire. She could smell his desire. And he wanted her something fierce.

  But before she gave in to the urge to touch him, he tucked her feet back in the truck and closed her door. She watched as he stood there, taking deep breaths before rounding the Hummer to the driver's side. More moments passed before he climbed in.

  He didn't look at her. He merely started the truck and turned back onto the highway toward Miami.

  "Mackenzie—"

  "Robyn, don't,” he interrupted. “I'm trying to pretend you mean nothing to me. I'm trying to keep my distance. You don't remember a thing about me except for some passing scent. But I swear, sweetheart, if you say another word right now, I'm going to pull this truck over and fulfill every one of my fantasies from the last two months whether you like it or not."

  She swallowed hard. His words only served to make her hotter for him, imagining the things he'd probably been imagining himself. With a shaky hand, she placed her drink in the console cup holder and closed her eyes in an effort to keep from saying another word.

  What if kissing him was what she needed to remember him? What if experiencing his touch was exactly what would stir her memories? She'd only been in his presence for a few hours at best and already she found herself wishing he would pull the truck over.

  What was the matter with her?

  "Damn it, woman,” he growled, opening the windows. The blast of heat was welcome, as the cooler air in the cab was laced with his delicious scent.

  "I'm sorry,” she breathed, shaking from head to toe. “I just...it's—"

  "Shut. Up."

  The tone of his voice startled her. Robyn bit her lip and looked out the window with the sting of tears in her eyes. She was confused as well as turned on. How, exactly, could she stop lusting after Mackenzie? The man was surly yet he oozed sex at the same time. She was sure she knew him. And knowing they had a history, however brief, finally made her realize that he was right. Dylan hadn't been her mate. He'd never made her wish he'd touch her, never made her want to lose control.<
br />
  But now that she was fully aware that Mackenzie wanted her, desperately wanted her, how could she possibly keep her distance? Even now, she throbbed for him and pressed against her jeans to ease it. If he hadn't been sitting a few feet away, she'd most likely try to give herself what he wouldn't.

  The sun was going down now in a spectacular display of orange and pink, lighting up the clouds in the sky. The shadows of palm trees made for a lovely contrast against such majesty, but Robyn barely noticed. The miles rolled past in silence until the lights of the city could be seen in the distance.

  She heard Mac fumbling with something and turned to look out the corner of her eye. He'd flipped open a phone and was attempting to find a number.

  Without glancing at her, he said, “Now that we're back in town, figured I should give the others a call and let them know I got you safe and sound."

  Damn the man. How dare he be composed at a time like this? Her thoughts were still wanton, but they'd dimmed in the twilight. Knowing he seemed to be over his lustful tirade cooled her own. However that didn't stop her from crossing her arms on her chest in an effort to hide her erect nipples.

  Whenever they got to their destination, Robyn was determined to stay far, far away from Mackenzie Bishop. He was too...intense. But he'd come for her, alone, ready to wage war on the B*E*A*S*T* compound all by himself.

  If that wasn't devotion, she didn't know what was.

  He'd told her he was pretending he didn't care about her, for her own sake. If this was hard on her, it had to be a hundred times harder on him. He obviously cared for her more than he was willing to admit.

  Stupid, stubborn man.

  Heaving a sigh, she listened in to his call and tried like mad to ignore his strong hand on the steering wheel. Or the way his beard complimented his face. Or the fact that she couldn't remember when she'd ever had sex.