by Maya Banks
He was dimly aware of the battle between the man and the cat. For a few moments, he felt what the cat felt, saw what it saw, smelled what it smelled. And then the beast retreated with a low snarl.
For the moment he’d won.
Ian’s low curses registered in the distance.
“Braden, talk to me, man.”
Braden groaned and tried to open his eyes but the sedative Ian had injected was too powerful. His body jerked as Ian hauled him to his feet, and he stumbled. He went down like falling timber, hitting the bed with a thump.
Ian looked down at his brother and swore. Then he swiveled and saw Katie staring from across the room. She was backed against the wall in a defensive posture, and her gaze was locked warily on Braden.
“What’s wrong with him?” she demanded. “What’s wrong with both of you? Do you have some sort of seizure disorder?”
Ian latched gratefully onto the opening she unwittingly offered, because he sure as hell had no intention of telling her just how close she’d come to being cat food.
“Something like that,” he muttered. “Look, we need to get on the road. We’re sitting ducks. Let’s get everything into the truck and then you need to help me get Braden out of here.”
She froze, her body stiff against the wall.
His eyes narrowed as he stared impatiently at her. “You’re not still holding on to the stupid idea of going it alone are you?”
A hysterical-sounding laugh escaped her lips. “You’re asking me to trust two ex-military guys with some funky seizure disorder who’ve done nothing but fuck things up for me ever since they walked into my life. Yeah, real hard choice here.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” Ian said. “Get your things and head out to the truck or I’ll stuff you in the back myself.”
Rage flared in her eyes, and to his surprise, she stalked over and got into his face. Oh hell, did she have to get that close? He was already having a devil of a time keeping the cat from rearing its head. One whiff of her, and he’d be shit out of luck. Braden wouldn’t be able to help him this time.
“What you can do is back the fuck off,” she snarled as she rose up on tiptoe to get a better angle into his eyes. “I am tired of men with more brawn than brains. I’m tired of being manhandled and pushed around. You touch me, and so help me God, I’ll castrate you.”
“I don’t have time for your tantrum,” Ian said in a bored tone. “If you want to stick around and let Ricardo’s men grab you so you can be his plaything then knock yourself out. Braden and I are out of here.”
It was chancy, calling her bluff, because he had a feeling she’d tell him to fuck off and head out on her own. That wasn’t something he could let her do, not when she represented their best chance at drawing Esteban out.
Indecision flickered in Katie’s eyes as she glanced between him and Braden. For a moment he caught a glimpse of her bone-deep fatigue and the worry she tried so hard to conceal. Against his will, he softened.
With a brief shake of her head, she squared her shoulders and went over to grab one of the bags. She didn’t say a word as she left the room. Ian smiled slightly and turned back to Braden.
He was hoisting Braden up from the bed when Katie returned. All vestiges of vulnerability were gone, replaced by a hard shell. Her don’t-fuck-with-me look was back in spades.
“I’m not going to be a whole hell of a lot of help,” she muttered as she surveyed Braden’s sagging body.
“Just get underneath his other arm and make sure he doesn’t fall,” Ian said. “I’ll bear most of his weight.”
She shrugged and then wiggled under Braden’s other shoulder. She wrapped one arm around his waist and gripped his wrist with her other.
Ian headed for the door, dragging Braden’s considerable weight with him. Katie struggled but bore up well. They stumbled into the sunshine, and Ian squinted as he scanned the area. Things were quiet, and only the sounds of distant traffic permeated the air.
“Let’s go,” he muttered.
They managed to shove Braden into the backseat and shut the door.
“Want me to drive?” Katie offered. “I have the most rest of any of us.”
Ian shook his head sharply. “Get in. Let’s go.”
She said something unintelligible under her breath but walked around to the passenger side. As she settled in, Ian remembered that they still hadn’t gotten food, and Katie had to be hungry. It wasn’t like she could afford to miss many more meals.
As soon as he had the thought, he shrugged it off. She wouldn’t starve, and right now, safety was more important than food.
He gunned the engine and drove back onto the highway. They still had several hours to go until they hit their rendezvous point, and the sooner they were in the air, the less antsy he’d feel.
“How uncontrolled is yours and Braden’s condition?” Katie asked.
He glanced over in surprise until he remembered the whole bit about the seizures. She sure didn’t pull any punches.
“We manage,” he said shortly.
“Look, I have a right to know what I’m dealing with,” she said. “You’re offering me protection. Well, you can’t very well protect me if you’re constantly freaking out and having to be medicated to the point of passing out. What the hell am I supposed to do if both of you freak out on me at the same time?”
“You shoot whoever’s after you,” Ian said calmly.
She snorted. “With what? You haven’t exactly been generous with contributing to my own self-preservation.”
“That’s because I can’t be sure you won’t shoot me or Braden,” Ian muttered.
“At least tell me what the hell I’m supposed to give you if you wig out,” she said.
Ian sighed. “There are syringes already filled in the back. Give us one of those and get the fuck away from us. The guns are back there too,” he said after a brief hesitation.
It was true she deserved to know what she was dealing with, particularly since she needed to stay away from them if they shifted. They could kill her in shifted form. But if he told her that now, she’d not only think he lost his mind, but she’d never agree to leave the country with them. Better to fill her in on the kitty details in the air.
Every once in a while he caught Katie glancing over her seat to check on Braden. It amused him only because she went to such pains to make sure it didn’t look like she was concerned.
“He’ll be fine,” Ian said. “He’ll sleep it off and wake up a little muzzy-headed.”
She scowled and focused her attention out her window.
For an hour, they drove in silence. A few of the roads they took were barely ribbons snaking through the rough terrain. Ian flexed his hands around the steering wheel and worked his head back and forth to stretch his neck.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” she asked as she stared balefully at him from across the seat.
“Nah, I’m—”
The world went crazy around him. A sickening crunch. A jolt so severe that his hands left the steering wheel as his body backlashed. He vaguely registered that they’d been hit. Broadside. Before he could react, regain control of the steering wheel as they careened sideways, they were hit again.
Glass shattered and sparkled in his vision like rain. They rolled and then rolled again. The SUV came to a shuddering stop and bounced hard as it righted itself. They had spun completely around and were angled in the ditch with the driver’s side mashed against the ground.
Katie moved slowly, reaching groggily for her seatbelt.
“No,” Ian said harshly. “Stay where you are.”
Before she could respond, her door was wrenched violently open. A large man loomed over her. He glanced briefly down at Ian, but apparently discounted him as a threat. He slashed at Katie’s seatbelt with a knife and then grabbed a handful of her hair. She cried out in pain when he yanked her from the truck.
A pulse of adrenaline rocketed through Ian’s system, making him forget about his
possible injuries or the pain that ricocheted through his head just moment ago.
He had to get to Katie.
He tried to move his legs and swore when he realized the dash was caved in around him. He wiggled his toes and was relieved that he didn’t seem to suffer any pain or loss of motion, but he couldn’t get free.
Goddamn it.
He twisted and tried to maneuver his upper body along the seat to get a different angle with his legs, but they didn’t budge.
A low snarl simmered through his throat. Feral. Animalistic. His breaths came in short bursts. Pants. His vision blurred, and pain began deep in his bones as they started reshaping.
For once he didn’t fight. He didn’t concern himself with what might be because if he didn’t make it to Katie, they’d kill her anyway. She’d have a better chance against the cat.
So he let go and surrendered to the intoxicating power surging through his veins. Warm and heady. The pain diminished as soon as he relinquished control.
“Braden!” he cried out with the last vestiges of humanity.
Where a moment before a man had lain trapped, a great cat arose and scented the air. Another growl rippled from his throat as he leaped from the vehicle.
Chapter Fifteen
Though every part of Katie shrieked in outrage, she forced herself to go limp until she could mentally examine herself for injuries. Her feet hit the ground with a resounding thump as one of Ricardo’s henchmen yanked her out of the vehicle. He obviously wasn’t concerned over potential injuries, which just told her she was going to die at Ricardo’s hands shortly.
Could things get any worse? Braden was unconscious in the backseat, and as far as she could tell, Ian was trapped in the driver’s seat. Which meant she was SOL when it came to any help from them.
Story of her life.
Her captor shoved her toward a waiting Ricardo who stood outside his untouched sports car, his expression furious. He backhanded her to the ground in one swift motion. She stayed down, nursing her throbbing cheek, knowing he wanted her to get up so he could go at her again.
Think, Katie, think. How on earth was she going to get herself out of this one?
A hand tangled in her hair and yanked her upright.
“Enough with the hair already,” she growled as she tried to shake free.
Instead of letting her go, the man tightened his grip and shoved her closer to Ricardo. This time when Ricardo hit her in the face, the man holding her prevented her from falling. Warm blood trickled down her chin, but she glared defiantly at Ricardo.
“Quite a man, aren’t you,” she jeered. “Have to have another man hold me so you can beat up on me? Are you afraid of me, Ricardo?” She let her gaze fall to his groin. “How’s the equipment, by the way?”
“Bitch,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m finished toying with you.” He withdrew a switchblade from his pocket and flipped the blade in front of her face in a series of fancy motions.
“I’m going to gut you like a pig and leave you on the side of the road to die.”
She bared her teeth and then spit at him, mimicking the time he’d done the same to her. It landed on his face, and his eyes widened in affronted shock.
He wiped the spittle from his cheek and stared at the back of his hand as if not believing she’d dared to insult him. She steeled herself for his retaliation even while she frantically searched for a way to escape.
The glint of metal flashed, and searing pain tore through her belly. She looked down to see the bright red bloom of blood spread across her abdomen. He’d slashed the knife across her skin instead of plunging the blade deep.
Painful and effective but not life-threatening.
He raised the knife again but a ferocious growl rippled through the air. It sounded so primitive, so vicious, that it raised the hairs at Katie’s nape.
Ricardo’s hand stopped in midair, and his eyes went wide with fear. The hold on Katie’s hair loosened, and the man holding her suddenly bolted away. She turned in time to see a big-ass cat leap from the interior of the SUV.
Before she could run, piss on herself or curl into a ball in a feeble attempt to protect herself, the cat streaked by her and launched itself at Ricardo.
Ricardo’s screams rent the air before a mouth closed around his throat, effectively silencing him. It was over so fast that Katie barely had time to register that she wasn’t having some bizarre hallucination.
Ricardo was sprawled on the ground under the weight of the animal, his eyes glassy and locked into a lifeless stare as his throat lay open and bleeding beneath the cat’s mouth.
Holy fuck. The cat. Ian. Braden.
Her mind couldn’t even catch up in its frenzy to understand what she’d just seen. Not waiting to see if she’d be the jaguar’s next meal, she bolted toward the SUV. Only to find the driver’s side empty.
Seizure disorder, my ass.
A quick look in the back told her Braden was either still unconscious or dead. She couldn’t be sure which, and she wasn’t going to hang around and find out. Hell, he’d probably turn into a damn…well she didn’t know, but again, she didn’t want to find out. Her brain simply couldn’t comprehend what she’d witnessed.
She turned to see the cat shaking Ricardo like a rag doll. The other men had scattered like screaming girls, but they’d likely return.
She ran to the back of the SUV and prayed the door would open. It took some pulling, but she managed to crack it just enough to haul one of the assault rifles out.
Her stomach was bleeding heavily, and she spared only enough time to shove a balled-up T-shirt over it before she took off in the opposite direction. And then she heard gunfire.
Don’t turn around. Don’t do it. Get the fuck out of here. Save your ass and don’t worry about the damn cat that’s currently having Ricardo for lunch.
She turned around, her gun up against her shoulder. Ricardo’s men were holed up behind their banged-up SUV. One dumbass had apparently shot at the jaguar and missed, and now the cat was stalking them.
Shit. If the cat was really Ian—and at this point, unless she believed in spontaneous combustion, she couldn’t come up with a better explanation—then the least she could do was keep the gunmen off his ass, or hide, or whatever the hell you called a cat’s skin.
She started to take cover behind the SUV but then realized that Braden was still inside, life status unknown, and if she started shooting at the bad guys they were going to shoot back, and if Braden wasn’t already dead, he’d soon be. The idea of either man dying did odd things to her. They’d done their damndest to protect her, and she could do nothing less than return the favor.
“You’re turning into a complete girl,” she muttered.
She dropped the bloody T-shirt and jumped the ravine the SUV had tumbled into. She scrambled up the incline and dove behind a clump of trees. On her belly, she slithered painfully forward, her blood mixing with the soil. Maybe if she got enough dirt packed in there, it would stop the bleeding.
Taking careful aim, she focused on the scene below her. Her first priority was to take out the lead gunman. The other two were pussies, and if she could nail the first guy, the others would probably tuck tail and run. Thank God for all the time she and Gabe had spent at the shooting range.
As soon as he stuck his head above the truck, she squeezed off a round. Blood arced through the air, splattering the metal hood as he fell. To his right, curses rang out as the other two men scrambled for cover like rats abandoning ship.
One made the mistake of running into the open. She nailed him before he took two steps. And darn, it wasn’t a clean shot, which meant the slimy little bastard would have to suffer for a while.
The other ran for Ricardo’s sports car. She clipped him in the leg, but he staggered on, diving into the interior. He peeled away in a cloud of dust, tires squalling as they made contact with the road.
Satisfied that she’d put an end to any immediate threat, she turned her attention to getting o
ut fast. No way in hell was she going to stick around to see what plans the jaguar had, nor was she inclined to learn what wild animal Braden could turn into.
Seizures. Just what kind of a moron did they take her for?
As she darted through the trees, the reality of what she’d just witnessed hit her like a ton of bricks. A fucking jaguar. What in the holy hell? People didn’t just turn into animals. Was she losing her grip on sanity?
She pressed on, ignoring the searing pain in her abdomen and the warm rush of blood coating her skin. And then she remembered the tracking device.
She reached up to her neck, barely slowing in the process. When she felt the slight protrusion, she yanked with her fingers. The sliver came free, and she tossed it on the ground.
Her energy was fast fading, but she couldn’t stop. Not now. She had to find a place to hide and regroup. Preferably where she was safe from a predator like a jaguar.
The image of the cat’s jaws around Ricardo’s throat flashed back to mind. Not that the jackass didn’t deserve what he’d gotten, but Katie had no desire to be the cat’s next meal. She had no doubt that as humans neither man would hurt her. She wasn’t sure when she had embraced that knowledge, but it was there, irrefutable. But as wild animals? She’d seen the way Ian had taken Ricardo out, and she knew in that moment he was capable of horrific violence.
God have mercy, had Gabe known what Ian and Braden were?
Fatigue swept over her, swift and unmerciful. She’d lost too much blood, spent too much adrenaline. She was going to crash and burn.
She spun around, looking for a direction, someplace to hide. Shelter. Picking an old deer trail, she barreled through the underbrush, determined to ride the well of her strength until she went bust.
She crossed over what looked to be an old logging road or an ATV trail, and she stopped in the middle to stare down either side. She couldn’t afford to remain in plain sight, so she headed into the woods on the other side. The brush enveloped her, and a chill raced across her skin in the absence of the sun.
For two hours, she pushed herself relentlessly, until she was beyond simple endurance. Nearly unconscious, she staggered over a rise and fell to her knees. She jammed the stock of the rifle into the ground to give her leverage as she hauled herself to her feet once more.
Ahead she saw a thick shroud of snarly bushes, and she focused single-mindedly on it. In the end, she didn’t even remember crawling those last feet. She dove into the brambles, wincing as the branches tore at her skin. She struggled to the middle and hollowed out a spot where she could rest. Gripping the gun tightly to her chest, she curled into a tight ball and closed her eyes.
Chapter Sixteen
Tyana stared dully over the ocean as the sun’s first rays peeked over the horizon. The sky was bathed in soft lavender, a beautiful contrast to the dark rolling sea. The sea fit her mood. The beauty of the sunrise mocked her.
Her foot was propped on a pillow but there was no comfort for her. Inside Jonah and Mad Dog were determining D’s fate while Tyana grew sicker at heart by the moment.
He can’t stay, Ty.
He’s a danger to you. To himself. To everyone.
He’ll be better off.
It’s better this way.
She closed her eyes against the statements that had been flung during the long night. No one had slept. No one had rested. They kept watch over the unconscious tiger until finally, an hour before dawn, the tiger had slowly given way and D’s naked, weakened body had appeared on the floor of the game room.
The glass doors opened. She looked up to see Eli file out followed by Mad Dog, Marcus, the team physician, and finally Jonah. Her chest tightened with dread. They’d come to deliver their edict.
“Are you all right, Ty?” Jonah asked in a gruff voice.
She nodded, her throat too knotted to speak. She glanced expectantly at Marcus. He stared back at her, apology in his eyes.
“He has to go,” Mad Dog said quietly.
“No,” she choked out.
Eli sat down next to her, his fingers curling around her nape and massaging.
Marcus nodded even as she shook her head in denial.
“It’s time, Tyana,” he said. “I’ve done all that can be medically done. It’s time to pursue other means. It’s our only hope. He grows more unstable all the time. His shift last night was so fast that you didn’t even have time to react