Hour of the Lion

by Cherise Sinclair

  "Fine." Her eyes narrowed at his odd expression. "Why?" she asked suspiciously. Why were they watching her as if she was a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie?

  Alec came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her. "The bracelets show we‘re lifemated—married, so to speak. Tonight is"—he thought for a second—"kind of a bonus ritual.

  If everyone in the lifemating is the same animal, like we‘re all werecats, then there‘s a special magic for us."

  "Like what?"

  Calum glanced at Alec, smiled slightly. "You‘ll see."

  "Let‘s go play in the snow," Alec said, his voice hoarse.

  Again? "Excuse me, but it‘s really cold out there, guys. I don‘t feel like freezing my ass o–"

  Calum‘s eyes were intent. "Strip, cariad. Now."

  Her nipples tightened under the power of his gaze, and heat unfurled inside her. Protest?

  Hell, no. Sir, yes, sir. She pulled her shirt over her head, then the rest.

  Following suit, the men dropped their clothing on the floor and dragged her out the door.

  Fuck, it couldn‘t be more than twenty degrees. She shivered, her feet burning on the frozen ground. Forget sex; find me a fire. She backed up to the threshold.

  Calum‘s eyes caught hers, darkened. "Trawsfur. Now."

  It felt as if he‘d shoved her through that weird shifter door in her head. How did he do that?

  The tingling washed over her skin, sank deep inside, and she could almost feel her bones changing. She dropped to all fours and chuffed a complaint at him. But at least the snow didn‘t freeze her paws. Her lifemating bracelets gleamed on her front leg, half-buried in thick tawny fur, and delight washed away her irritation.

  Still in human form, Alec leaned over, stroked her back. As his scent curled around her, heady and powerful, she purred and butted her head against his bare leg. He put his hand underneath her muzzle. "Vixen," he said. His grin was carnal. Dangerous. " Run."

  Without him? It must be part of the ritual. So she leaped away, bounding up the mountain, the snow flying behind her. Her muscles stretched and warmed, and a minute later, she heard the men behind her. The scent of their musk on the wind changed something inside her and heated her blood. Her leaps grew longer, stronger.

  A shadow—Calum‘s dark fur—flashed through the trees to her left. He ran in front of her, his powerful grace mesmerizing.

  She barely saw a movement to the right before it struck, blindsiding her, and tumbling her onto her side. Her paws scrambled uselessly in the snow for a second. Too long.

  Even as she rolled back onto her stomach, the golden cougar was on her. Alec. His teeth closed on her neck, holding her securely. His front paws wrapped around her, pinning her in place, and heat rose within her at the feel of his body on top of hers. She yowled, almost maddened by the all-consuming craving that roared through her. His purr deafened her ears as she lifted her hind quarters to him, need gripping her even more savagely than his claws.

  He entered her, long, hot, and hard, almost painful with his urgency. She took him in, filled with him, the feeling dizzying. And suddenly, they were human, her breasts swayed with his thrusts, her hands buried in the snow. His grip—human fingers—tightened on her hips as he hammered into her from the rear, deep and fast. She braced herself on her forearms, pushing back to meet him. Each thrust sent shivers through her, the sensations more and more compelling, until she screamed as she exploded, coming over and over in massive shudders.

  With the roar of a conqueror, he spasmed inside her, filling her with hot seed.

  Shaken at the suddenness of the mating, the strangeness, she could only quiver under him and try to get her thoughts together.

  As he withdrew, she hissed at the emptiness, the loss.

  He rumbled a laugh. "Our mate." He kissed her cheek before standing. As the moonlight glinted over his skin, he blurred into a cougar again. She felt the tingle and without warning, she was in animal shape.

  Confused, she started to turn to face him. What the hell is going on? He bit her sharply on her hind leg, then again, spurring her up the mountain.

  Bastard male. Running hard, she left him behind. She didn‘t need him, didn‘t need anyone, only herself and her powerful body. The moon rose over the eastern peaks, flooding the snow-filled forest with an eerie glow. The air was sharp enough to cut and scented with pine. Her blood sang joyfully with the rhythm of her paws.

  As she ran beneath a cliff, something moved on the overhang, and a dark cougar landed on her, pinning her flat.

  Calum. His muzzle rubbed over her fur, engulfing her in his scent, before he sank his teeth into her neck. She lunged forward, trying to escape, and his claws curled into her sides in warning. His fierceness sent need sizzling in her veins even as his heavy weight pinned her in place. Heat blazed through her, and she lifted up to receive his savage thrust.

  Oh God. His penetration blasted awake every nerve ending, and she pushed up higher.

  As his cock hammered into her, somehow, somewhen, they shifted to human, and his bare chest rubbed against her back. His hands were implacable on her hips, not letting her move or evade him. He was hard and thick, filling her almost too full, and she was still sensitive from Alec‘s use. His fingers found her breasts, her nipples, pinching just enough to send hot jolts of pleasure to her core. The burning inside grew, pulsing with his thrusts, becoming unendurable.

  His knees pressed hers outward until she opened fully, and he could slide into her even deeper.

  Panting, she tried to move, but one arm curled around her stomach to hold her in place.

  Growling, he slowed, each stroke sending her closer. And then, with one final intense thrust, he ground into her, so deep, and a blizzard of pleasure engulfed her, spasm after spasm, as his own release came.

  Legs trembling, she sagged in his embrace. He nuzzled her neck, his beard shadow scratching and making her shiver. "Beautiful Victoria," he murmured. "Our mate." As he slowly withdrew, he kissed her nape, his lips soft against the burning bitemarks. And whispered, "Run."

  Over and over through the night, she‘d bound away, escaping in the moon-dappled forest.

  Each time, they‘d trap her and then take her, shifting back and forth between human and cougar, giving her pleasure each time until the moon disappeared behind the western mountains. Until her legs in either form shook and she staggered.

  As darkness crept across the world, the two male cougars joined her, one on each side, maneuvering her back to the cabin.

  Shifting to human, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her legs gave out, and only Calum‘s quick grip kept her from falling. Lifting her easily, he carried her to the blankets.

  As Alec tossed a log onto the fire, Calum pulled her into his arms. Alec snuggled on the other side, sandwiching her between them.

  "You guys have a really warped notion of a honeymoon," she whispered, shivering a little at the memory of teeth biting her neck, claws holding her.

  Alec‘s hand cupped her breast, comfortingly, possessively. "Only lifemates who are all the same animal get to mate in both forms," he murmured. "I love you, Vixen."

  Calum‘s big palm settled warm against her stomach, his voice rumbled in her ear, "I love you, little cat."

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Married. She was married. Well, yeah, so they called it lifemated, but it was really being married.

  Vic turned off the shower and dashed into the bedroom. Calum had already left, and the clock said three o‘clock. Talk about running really late, dammit.

  It was this married stuff doing it too. Married. Over the past few days, she kept repeating the word, and her stomach quivered like fucking Jell-O each time. Whatever happened to planning out major life-altering events?

  She‘d never been so happy. Ever.

  After yanking on a shirt and jeans, she smiled. Her life had started to feel almost normal—as normal as some bizarre furred-thingie family with two husbands could be.

  With a r
eady-made daughter as part of the package. That was like…like…she didn‘t even have the words. Jamie had actually known about Alec and Calum‘s plans and cheered them on.

  She‘d immediately started calling Vic MomVee, all one word. Vic smiled, her eyes stinging. Hell of a name. Funny how she‘d felt so proud at earning the rank of sergeant. Yet this mother title was even more rewarding since Jamie‘s love had come with it. Vic couldn‘t get from one side of the house to the other without collecting a hug from the girl.

  Or from the men either. She‘d married two men. Or would that be two cats? That Mother goddess of theirs must have a truly odd idea of humor.

  Then again, maybe She just had a well-developed sense of fun. Vic shook her head. A few days ago, Alec and Calum had woken her and Jamie up in the middle of the night to play in the forest—pouncing, stalking, and hunting. And how cool was that? Made summer picnics seem so yesterday.

  She glanced at her watch and grimaced. Yanking on a white shirt, she grabbed a black jacket and ran.

  Ten minutes later, she eased into the police station. With any luck, Alec wouldn‘t notice—

  He looked up from his paperwork and fixed her with a dark green glare. "Miz Waverly-McGregor, you‘re late."

  She couldn‘t remember the last time she‘d arrived late for anything. "Um. I‘m sorry. I ran into a …" She felt a flush creep up her face. She‘d worked evening patrol all week because of the movie shoots, and had still been asleep when Calum came home for lunch. A bed was a very indefensible location, and his so-called quickie hadn‘t been quick at all. "I guess I lost track of the time. It won‘t happen again."

  The frown on Alec‘s face was belied by the amusement in his eyes. "I realize you‘re a newly-wed, but this department expects its law enforcement personnel to show up on time. Our citizens deserve no less."

  "Yes, sir."

  He finally grinned. "I can‘t imagine what could have happened to make you lose track of time—except Calum called to explain."

  She stared at him. He knew? "You sadistic dirtbag." She tossed her jacket over a hook on the wall and took a seat beside the desk. "I thought you were seriously pissed-off."

  He ran a finger down her cheek, around a mouth swollen from Calum‘s mind-blowing kisses. "Oh, but I am. Angry that I didn‘t get a nooner. You‘d better plan on placating me tonight, or you‘ll be in big trouble."

  "Oooh. Please, Mr. Sheriff, I‘ll do anything." Her blood heated as she thought of a few things she could do. She licked her lips, and her voice turned husky. "Anything."

  His eyes grew heavy lidded, and then he snatched his hand back. "You were sent by the devil, weren‘t you? Toying with us weak-minded men, leaving us helpless in your wake."

  She grinned. "Yep. That‘s the idea. So, what‘s on the schedule today?"

  "First, join Jenkins and practice patrolling in a car. Then you‘re on downtown duty after five."

  Watching over those empty-headed movie people. She sighed. "Yes, sir."

  *

  Alec glanced up when Calum strolled into the office with a manila envelope. Leaning back in his chair, Alec studied his brother with pleasure. Calum had never looked better. His eyes had cleared of the last lingering grief. "Being lifemated agrees with you."

  "Indeed."

  "But I‘ll ask that you stop making my deputy late." Alec used his foot to shove the spare chair over. "What brings you to my illustrious establishment?"

  "Two things. First, Tynan O‘Connolly sent more information. He managed to get some background on Vidal. Brawd, he grew up in Gray Cliff."

  "Gray Cliff?" Alec frowned. The name seemed familiar. "The town in Rainier territory that the hellhounds decimated a few years ago?"

  "Precisely. Vidal moved away long before it disappeared, but I would guess that‘s where he learned of the Daonain." Calum‘s voice turned grim. "I don‘t know what set him in search of us now."

  "We may never find out. I‘ll settle for him being dead. What‘s the other thing?"

  Calum‘s eyes turned cold. "Swane is here."

  Alec rose to his feet, fury rising like a forest fire. "In town?"

  "Aye. Jamie caught a trace of his scent when the movie crew was filming, but too many people were there. What better way to hide than in a crowd of people?"

  "Tonight‘s the last night for the shoot—they‘re leaving tomorrow morning." Catch him. Kill him. Alec forced the rage down. "Is she okay?"

  Calum‘s words were tight. "She doesn‘t want to hide. She wants it over with. She‘s tired of the restrictions we‘ve put on her and she said"—he shook his head—"ordered, actually, that she wanted to play rabbit to lure out the wolf."

  By Herne, they‘d raised a strong female. "You agree?"

  "Not in the least." Calum rubbed his neck. "But she has a point. This way, we‘d have control in springing the trap. If they remain at large, some other time they might get lucky."

  Alec nodded. "Then we‘ll set it up."

  "Don‘t tell Victoria."

  "Why not?" The memory of a snarling cougar came to mind. Twice Vixen had acted—

  without thinking—to protect Jamie. "I see your point."

  *

  Wells considered contacting her by phone. But no, the good sergeant was too adept at sliding past the truth. She should be, Wells thought with a bitter smile. He‘d trained her.

  A face-to-face. He hoped she had answers that would satisfy him.

  After parking, he wandered down Cold Creek‘s Main Street, pleased with the old-fashioned street lamps that lit the sidewalk nicely. He window-shopped in the small stores that had closed for the night. A movie shoot had set up at the end of the block, and he deliberately moved away from the crowd. Eventually, he crossed to the center of the street and took a seat on an ironwork bench. People-watching was one of his favorite activities.

  There she was.

  Clad in a khaki uniform, looking very cop-like, Sergeant Morgan walked her beat, watching the people, alert to everything going on. She would make a fine police officer.

  He saw the almost unnoticeable hesitation in her stride as she spotted him. She moved out of the light, so he couldn‘t evaluate whether she felt pleasure—or dismay—at his presence. When he ignored her, she did the same. Pride warmed his chest; she hadn‘t lost her skills. She was one of the best.

  He stood and stretched, checked his watch, and then walked down the street toward her. He passed her on the sidewalk, eyes flicking to Angie‘s diner. There he could wait in comfort until she found an appropriate time to meet him.

  *

  Full dark. Showtime. Swane smoothed his short beard, tugged his bus driver‘s uniform straight, and walked away from the vehicle like a man needing supper. Behind him the filming continued, and he almost grinned. The acting in the romance wasn‘t bad; Tony Vidal might actually be making a blockbuster movie. Wouldn‘t that surprise the asshole?

  If he lived long enough to see it. Swane snorted in disgust. He‘d finally figured out Vidal‘s problem. The shaking hands, his difficulty controlling his anger, choking on a drink, his weird gait. Parkinson"s—like Swane‘s uncle who‘d died in a nursing home. Vidal wanted to become a monster to keep from turning into a vegetable and would kill anyone in his path to do it.

  Swane cracked his knuckles. Not a problem. But after the bastard got his wish, Swane would grab the half-a-mil coming to him and quietly disappear into a third-world country. Maybe he‘d take his own pet pussy. Rip her claws out—and teeth too—and she‘d do anything he wanted. He hardened and had to stop and adjust himself.

  Avoiding the pools of light, Swane worked his way over to where the ‗extras‘ from the town waited for their cue. Looked like most of the people in Cold Creek. They‘d practiced their part several times last night until the director let them go, and tonight would be the take. According to the skit, when the villain started shooting at the hero, the panicking mob would flee through several streets. The very dark streets.

  Nerves on edge, he watched for any mo
untain lion shapes and shadows as he walked to his position.

  After the rehearsals last night, he knew his target‘s route. This time, as the small group of fleeing extras came past him, he‘d trank her and toss her in the car. The trunk was already open.

  He‘d stop on the road and administer a longer-acting dose, and be at the farmhouse shortly after.

  He might even leave her sedated long enough to…enjoy himself before getting down to work.

  Fuck yes. There was nothing like the young ones with their high screams and terrified eyes.

  The sound of a pistol split the night air, then several more shots. Screaming. Yelling. The filming had begun. The people scattered into the various streets. They‘d been told to keep running since filming would continue here and there.

  No camera was set up on this street. Vidal had been clear about his requirements with the director.

  Swane listened, and a second later, the kid appeared out of the darkness. She ran toward him, trying to look afraid, not very effectively. That would change. A few more steps and then…she stopped dead. Sniffing and looking around. What the fuck?

  Whatever. She was close enough. He aimed and heard a growl. Before he could turn, jaws closed over his hand. His skin ripped, his fingers breaking with little snapping sounds. He screamed and struck at the animal. Another huge, monstrous dog sprang on him.

  Swane landed hard on his back. As he tried to rise, teeth snapped close to his neck. He froze, barely breathing. Spittle hit him in the face as the dog‘s fangs hovered an inch from his throat.

  They weren‘t dogs. Wolves. Werewolves. The monsters weren‘t just mountain lions.

  Swane‘s bladder released.

  From the sidewalk, the girl watched him, then looked past him.

  Too terrified to move, Swane rolled his eyes in that direction. Two men were crossing the street. The cop. The girl‘s father.

  Fuck.

  *

  Vic didn‘t slow her pace, but her heart hammered like a ‗ma deuce‘ machine gun. Wells!