by Laura Wright
Only a clear mind could reveal a pathway to success.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“Xavier has everything stored on a remote server,” Parish continued, “but it’s going to take time to get him back up and running.”
Knowing there was nothing he could do to help the Geeks, Ice turned his attention to the Pantera who were huddled in groups in the center of the large clearing. “What about casualties?” he asked.
“Several injured, but no one dead, thank the Goddess,” Parish responded. “And thanks to you. If you hadn’t spotted the intruder who knows what might have happened.”
Ice waved aside his leader’s words. He was lucky to be standing where he’d had a clear view of the trail leading out of the bogs. “Did you check with our newest pack members?” he asked, referring to those living on the edge of the Wildlands.
“They didn’t sense any intruders in their area,” Parish answered.
“Good.”
Parish nodded, although they both knew it’d been sheer luck that none of the outer cabins had been attacked. “They’ll be moved into temporary housing until we can be sure it’s safe for them to return.”
A sensible precaution.
“Do we know how he got through the shield?” Ice demanded.
“We’re assuming he had enough Pantera blood to slip through the magic,” Parish said. The barrier was intended to protect the puma shifters from the outside world, but it wasn’t a foolproof form of security. As they were painfully discovering. “We don’t know if he was injected with or blood or altered with DNA to become a hybrid.”
Ice grimaced, assuming the Healers would use the bits and pieces left of the intruder to determine if he was a born Pantera, or if he’d been injected with their blood. “It was a risky play,” he said. “They couldn’t know we would be meeting at that precise time. Not unless there’s a spy in the Wildlands.”
Parish shrugged. “The Headquarters might not have been the target. Suicide bombers usually go for maximum carnage. He could have been headed for the communal center, hoping we were gathered for dinner, or even the clinic where we keep our most vulnerable. But after he was shot he might have been forced to blow up the nearest object before he bled out.”
Ice frowned, slowly replaying the incident in his mind. The man had run out of the thick vegetation of the wetlands, seeming to head straight toward them. But the pathway circled the Headquarters and ended at the communal center. That could easily have been his destination.
“But why strike at all?” he murmured, asking the question that had been preying on his mind while he was searching for intruders.
Parish frowned, as if he hadn’t had time to consider what had prompted the attack. “We’ve done damage to them. I’m sure they want some revenge.”
“Maybe.”
Parish easily sensed Ice’s hesitation. “What are you thinking?”
Ice struggled to pinpoint his vague sense they were missing something.
Something important.
“It could be a lone nut job wanting revenge,” he slowly murmured.
“Or?” Parish prompted when Ice hesitated.
“Or a distraction,” Ice at last said.
Parish’s eyes abruptly narrowed. “You’re right. We need to prepare…” The words trailed away as Parish glanced toward the crowd of shell-shocked Pantera. “Shit.” He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “I don’t even know what we need to prepare for.”
Ice grimaced. What could he say? None of them knew what might be coming next.
They stood in mutual silence, both lost in their dark thoughts when Indy came to a skidding halt next to Parish.
The tiny female with short, midnight black hair and dark blue eyes looked like a biker pixie doll. She was one of the lab rats who’d escaped from the Benson labs and had been conducting a vigilante war against the humans when Angel found her.
“I need your help,” she bluntly commanded.
Indy had the same social skills as Ice.
Precisely none.
Parish instantly turned to face her. “Tell me.”
“Karen is missing.”
Ice frowned. It took him a minute to recall the pretty woman who’d been with Indy when the Pantera had found the rats in New Orleans. She’d been a brood mare for the humans, which meant she’d been inseminated, by force, with Pantera semen to produce hybrids. She had one son, Caleb, with her in the Wildlands, but Ice seemed to recall that he’d heard she had other children who had been taken from her at birth.
“Where is she supposed to be?” Parish demanded.
“She was at the clinic when the explosion went off,” Indy said. “No one remembers seeing her after that.”
Parish frowned. “Could she have gone home?”
Indy looked at him in disbelief. “No way in hell. If there were injuries, she wouldn’t have left the clinic even if she was ready to collapse.”
“Take me to the last place she was seen,” Parish ordered Indy before he was glancing over his shoulder at Ice. “Come with me.”
Ice instantly fell into step with Parish as Indy headed toward the long building that was bustling with activity.
“She has an office in the clinic,” Indy told them, leading them toward the nearest door.
On a normal day, the healing center was a place of peace, with cherry-paneled walls and hand-woven rugs that had little semblance to a human hospital. Tonight, however, the peace had been replaced with a sizzling energy as the Healers worked together to cure the wounded and soothe those traumatized by the attack.
Avoiding the treatment rooms, Indy moved toward the long corridor where there was a line of offices. She opened the door at the end, and instantly Ice’s cat went Hunter-still.
A swift glance revealed a broken window, and files scattered over the floor. There’d been a recent struggle. But that wasn’t what had his puma pressing beneath his skin.
It was the unmistakable scent that filled the air.
“Blood,” he breathed. “And the musk of an unfamiliar Pantera.”
Indy made a sound of distress, her hand pressed to her chest as Parish went to his knees to study the stain in the center of the rug. “Is she…?”
“She was alive when she left here,” Parish reassured the young female, straightening to make a quick sweep of the small room.
There wasn’t much to see. A desk with a computer, two chairs, and floor-to-ceiling shelves that were stuffed with file folders.
“I know she worked with the Healers. Was she doing anything else?” Parish asked, clearly leaping to the assumption that the enemy had taken the woman.
Not that it was much of a leap.
What else could have happened?
Indy visibly squared her shoulders, putting aside her fear so she could do whatever necessary to help her friend. “What do you mean?”
Parish nodded his head toward the files. “Was she doing any research?”
Indy chewed her bottom lip. “I know she was still trying to locate her sons. Xavier was working with her. He downloaded and printed out the patient files from the various Benson Enterprise computers we’ve gotten our hands on.”
“I meant any research that involves your people,” Parish explained.
“Our people,” Indy corrected him.
It took a minute for Parish to realize she was insisting the refugees were now a part of the Pantera pack.
“Yes. Our people,” he agreed, his tone impatient.
Satisfied, Indy wrapped her arms around her waist, her face pale. “She was working with Doc Chelsea. They were testing her blood to see what Benson Enterprises did to alter her.”
“I know she was a brood mare—” Parish bit off his words with a grimace. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Indy assured him. “It was a term Karen used. She said there was no point in running from what had been done to us. We had to accept it and use the pain to make our future better.”
Ice remained silent, even as he
inwardly applauded the woman’s philosophy. Most people who’d endured what she had would be too bitter to embrace life to the fullest.
“Did they discover what was done to her?” Parish asked.
Indy shrugged. “As far as I know they were still working on the results.”
Parish planted his fists on his hips, staring at the window. “Maybe someone didn’t want us finding out the exact nature of the experiments.”
Ice wasn’t convinced. “How could they know she was being tested?”
“Karen had a friend who she kept in contact with in New York,” Indy offered. “She might have said something that could have been passed on to Christopher and his band of bastards.”
“So it’s possible the bomber could have been a distraction to get their hands on Karen,” Parish murmured in preoccupied tones. He glanced toward Ice. “See if you can find a trail.”
With a nod, Ice headed across the office, carefully climbing out the broken window. Once on the mossy ground, he drew in a deep breath, locking on the scent of the unknown Pantera. Karen’s scent would be throughout the Wildlands. It would be easier to follow the smell of the intruder.
Focused on his goal, he blocked out the curious gazes that followed him as he circled past the far edge of the destroyed Headquarters and down a side path that was rarely used. It headed through the deepest part of the bogs and the ground was too soft to build homes on.
Coming to a halt, Ice closed his eyes, emptying his mind as he called on the power of his puma. Tingles of magic vibrated through him, lengthening muscle and sinew and popping bones into place. Then in a final burst of heat, he was fully shifted.
With a roar of pleasure, his cat leaped forward, easily moving over the soggy ground. He was swiftly following the trail, not surprised to find one set of footprints. Karen had no doubt been knocked out to keep her quiet as they took her from her office. They would have to carry her out of the Wildlands.
Unless…no. He would smell her blood if they’d killed her and dumped her body in the bogs.
Jumping over the fallen tree trunks and narrow channels, Ice finally reached the edge of the Wildlands.
Whoever had taken Karen had met up with the other intruders, and they’d all left at the same spot he’d discovered earlier. Remaining within the magic of Wildlands so he stay in his cat form, he followed the edge of the road that skirted the bayous, heading toward La Pierre, a small town just a few miles away.
Hoping he could capture them before they managed to escape, Ice growled with frustration when the scent abruptly disappeared. He didn’t need the deep ruts in the muddy ground to tell him that a car had been waiting for them.
Unable to follow them, Ice headed back into the Wildlands, finding Parish waiting for him outside the clinic.
With a burst of magic he shifted, shivering at the agonizing pleasure of transforming back so quickly. “They took off in a vehicle that must have been waiting for them.”
Indy stepped out of the shadows. “We have to get her back.”
“We will,” Parish said, his gaze never leaving Ice. “Is it possible to track them?”
“No.” Ice shook his head. He was a hell of a Hunter, but he wasn’t a miracle worker. “They must have left just after the explosion. There’s no way to know which direction they went once they hit the paved road.”
Parish paused, his gaze skimming over the gathered Pantera as if seeking inspiration. Then, with a quicksilver movement, he was turning toward Indy. “Do you have anything of Karen’s that holds a deep emotional attachment for her?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I’ll be right back.”
Ice narrowed his gaze, a sharp-edged suspicion twisting his gut in a knot. “Parish—”
“We need to get her back,” Parish interrupted.
“Right now we need to concentrate on making sure the Wildlands are safe,” Ice growled.
Parish took a step closer, his voice pitched low enough it wouldn’t carry. It was easier to sprout wings and fly than to have a private conversation in the middle of a pack of shifters.
“If the enemy went to this much trouble to get their hands on Karen, she must have something that either is vital or possesses a danger to them. Which means she’s an asset to us we can’t afford to lose,” Parish said, his tone bleak. Was he blaming himself for the enemy slipping past their borders? “Besides, she has too much sensitive information on our people to leave her in their hands.”
Before Ice could speak, the young female was returning, handing Parish a small picture of an unknown woman in a golden frame.
“Here,” she said. “This is Karen’s mother. She died before Karen managed to escape. It’s all she has left of her.”
Parish gave the picture to Ice. “Take this to Cammy. See if she can use her powers to find Karen.”
Ice paused. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in Cammy’s ability to track down Karen. He didn’t understand her strange talent for using objects to find people, but he knew that it was very real.
No. His hesitation came from his ingrained habit of trying to avoid the young Hunter. That part of him urged him to ask Parish to send another Hunter with Cammy. The leader wouldn’t be happy, but he would accept Ice’s demand to remain and help guard the Wildlands.
It’s what he would’ve done just a few days ago.
But everything had changed when Rage returned home with a mate.
Now…
“Fine,” he muttered, his gaze seeking out the female who’d fascinated and aggravated him for years.
Parish laid a hand on his shoulder. “Stay in touch.”
CHAPTER 2
Cammy jogged to the edge of the Wildlands, carrying the backpack that she’d hastily stuffed with a change of clothes, a few toiletries and her favorite gun. She was dressed in leather pants and a black turtleneck sweater and heavy boots, with her hair pulled into a tight braid.
Her entire body tingled. She told herself it was a combination of delayed shock and eagerness to strike back at their enemies.
It couldn’t have anything to do with spending the next few hours alone with Ice. Could it?
Okay, there’d been a moment when he’d rescued her from the falling beam. Heat and heart-thumping awareness. And she couldn’t completely ignore the fact that her cat roared with anticipation when Ice had sought her out to tell her that they were going on the hunt for the missing Karen.
But still…
Her tangled thoughts were interrupted as she caught the rich scent of Ice’s musk. The tingling intensified, sending a strange quiver down her spine as he stepped from the shadows of the cypress tree.
His large body was emphasized by the tight black T-shirt he was wearing despite the sharp chill in the air, and the worn jeans that clung to his narrow backside and muscular thighs.
A part of her had always known he was a stunning creature. The male features that looked as if they’d been sculpted by the hands of an artist. The golden hair that brushed his wide shoulders. And the pale, pale eyes that glowed with the power of his cat.
But until this moment, she’d never allowed herself to savor the full impact of his savage beauty.
Dear Goddess, what was happening to her? She never felt all shivery when she was with Rage. Or any other male. So what was up with Ice?
Thankfully unaware of her weird reaction to his presence, Ice moved to stand at her side.
“You ready?” he demanded, smart enough not to suggest he take her bag. She appreciated good manners, but she was a Hunter. She could carry her own damned equipment.
“Yeah.” She headed toward the Jeep parked just down the road. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get back.”
With long strides, he was quickly walking at her side. “In a hurry?” he taunted in soft tones.
She glanced over her shoulder, her features softening as she recalled her last sight of Rage as he’d been standing guard over those Pantera who were sleeping in the communal center.
�
��We’re needed in the Wildlands,” she murmured.
She heard a low growl rumble in Ice’s chest. “You’re needed with me,” he snapped. “He’s with the person he needs at his side.”
Cammy flinched. Had he known she was thinking about Rage?
The suspicion was enough to stiffen her spine with humiliation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said between gritted teeth, wrenching open the door of the vehicle and climbing into the passenger seat.
Only an idiot would think that Ice would let her drive.
A few seconds later Ice was settled behind the steering wheel, his hand reaching to start the engine. But instead of putting the vehicle in gear, he instead turned to study her with an unnerving intensity.
“Look, we’re going to have to work together, Cammy,” he said, his husky voice stroking over her like a caress. “Can you do that?”
Could she? In the enclosed space of the Jeep she could feel the zap of his intense energy racing over her skin. It was like standing in the center of an electric storm. And worse, her cat was continuing to try and reach out. As if it was longing to touch Ice’s animal.
It was only her stubborn pride that refused to admit she might be in over her head.
“I can if you can,” she found herself saying.
A slow, terrifyingly smug smile curved his lips.
“Which way?” he asked.
With an effort, Cammy forced herself to concentrate on the framed picture she held in her hands. She’d worry about Ice and her aggravating response to him later. For now, nothing mattered but tracking down Karen.
“North,” she murmured, focusing on the familiar sensation that tugged at her.
Without question, Ice put the vehicle in gear and turned onto the first road that headed north.
The thick darkness cloaked around them, but Ice didn’t turn on the headlights. Their cat eyes ensured they could see as well at night as during the day, and there was no point in attracting unwanted attention.
They traveled in silence, the Jeep churning through the muddy potholes. It wasn’t until they’d reached the paved road that led out of the wetlands that Ice glanced toward her with blatant curiosity. “How does your power work?”