Victor’s only reply was to lower his head again. “They’re waiting.”
Merrick heard them outside the door, ready to rip his woman from his grasp. Claws pressed hard against his fingertips, his beast eager to tear through the lot of them.
Only he couldn’t.
He was their Leo. He couldn’t flout the laws he’d help create just because it didn’t suit him.
Especially not with his cursed injuries. With his lion so close to the surface, the wounds on his back throbbed like Beast’s claws were ripping up his insides. The only thing that helped was Trina’s nearness, as if she alone could sooth Beast.
Inactivity ate away at him, and it galled him to be denied the right to protect what was his. Those thoughts were diverted when Trina placed a hand on his arm and led him back to the desk.
“Sit before you ruin all the work we did this morning.”
He did so, but reluctantly and only to appease her. When she would’ve walked away, he grabbed her wrist, his fingers immediately finding her pulse. The steady beat calmed Beast, and he leaned against her side. He lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “No matter what they decide, you’re not going anywhere.”
Only when he was sure she wouldn’t move did he give Victor the nod to open the door. Judith entered first, her fangs flashing when she sat. The rest of the people filed in more slowly as if reluctant to be there, wishing they were anywhere else.
He could sympathize.
Inhaling deeply, he caught the elusive scent of wild flowers, and beast finally relented enough to stop pushing at the underside of his skin to get out. He’d never thought he’d say it, but he was glad he couldn’t shift. He would’ve had a devil of a time keeping himself in check.
Victor stood in the center of the room, his back to Leo. That meant he was about to do something stupid, but didn’t want Merrick to stop him. Beast’s fur bristled around his neck like goose bumps in human form, a threatening rumble working its way up his throat.
As if sensing the threat, Victor went ramrod straight. “Before you vote, you should know that she was invited here to research CreedMark. It’s how they met. She was guaranteed protection as part of her payment. If she is threatened, she will leave and take all her research with her.”
Everyone stilled as Victor’s words lingered in the room. A surge of painful hope scented the air and all eyes swung toward Trina.
Unable to resist, Merrick studied the slender woman who had so fascinated him from the first. He expected to see Victor’s lie in her face. Instead, all he saw was a thoughtfulness that nearly stopped his heart.
The beast in him stilled completely as the reality around him shifted once again. He admitted he had given her ability to heal more than a passing thought, but it had only been wistfulness.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
“Bullshit.” Judith shot to her feet, her face a bright shade of red. “She lies. The real question is why she came to the Den in the first place.”
“The truth will let out eventually, won’t it?” Merrick didn’t even bother to address her directly. He couldn’t take his gaze from Trina.
Determination tightened his chest, and the demand to seduce her intensified. The beast part of him said that seduction would force her to stay with him of her own will, but the man knew those thoughts were faulty. She would come to hate him if he used her body against her to get what he wanted.
It shouldn’t matter.
Hell, normally he didn’t give a damn if it meant getting his way.
It was different with her.
But he knew that keeping her longer than the agreed upon time would be impossible. The odds were stacked against them, the biggest hurdle being Trina herself. He’d promised that he’d release her at the end of two weeks, but if she could solve the riddle of CreedMark before it claimed more victims, how could he allow it?
The future of the shifters rested in acquiring a cure for the disease that riddled the pack. If they couldn’t find answers in the next few years, nothing would save the pack from the threat of extinction.
* * *
Trina blinked when the votes were cast. Five to seven.
In her favor.
The unexpected support should’ve pleased her.
She could stay.
Instead, the cold weight of heavy shackles all but clamped on her ankles. What the hell did a concubine do that they placed such importance on the role?
“I request to be assigned as a member of her personal guard.” A man she’d vaguely recognized when she’d first entered the room stood to attention in front of Merrick’s desk.
Both Victor and Merrick studied him with suspicion. Not wanting the somewhat peaceful meeting to erupt in a fight, she quickly spoke. “I know you, don’t I?”
The man nodded. “A year ago, you found a wounded cub and patched him up. You probably saved his life.”
“You’re the one who stood guard outside my house when the other shifters came to me for help.”
The man shrugged then faced her. The emotions in his expression stunned her, almost as if he’d missed her and had been worried. “We’ve been keeping watch, doing our best to protect you in return for your help. Except you disappeared three weeks ago. The man watching your house was murdered, and your home was destroyed. We thought you were dead until we found you here.”
A pang of loss hit again when Trina thought of her house, but the mention of the murder sent a splash of fear spiraling through her. It should’ve been her. She wanted to question him, demand answers about what he’d found, but forced herself to remain quiet.
Too many ears were pricked forward, searching for answers about her past. If they found out the truth about her, they would never allow her to leave. And the vampires and witches would never allow her to remain. She cast a quick glance at Merrick, only to freeze at the hard man before her. The calculation in his gaze was pure Leo.
When she lifted her head, she saw the same resolute expression from everyone else. All except for Judith and the hulking brute behind her.
As she watched, Judith rose and stalked toward the door, her eyes never once leaving hers. When the door latched behind them, Trina saw the chair where she’d been seated had four large rents down the cushions, the stuffing spilling forth.
This wouldn’t be the last time she and that wolf clashed. If she didn’t watch closely, those same claws would be at her throat next.
She had to get out of there.
Something had shifted in the meeting when the vote had been cast. The hunted feeling that had haunted her outside these walls returned tenfold.
Two weeks.
She just had to hold herself together for two weeks. In the meantime, she would make full use of the labs and earn her keep. If she kept busy, she could avoid the paranoia that something wasn’t right from creeping in at the back of her mind.
“Before more people leave, I want as many shifters to go to the lab and give blood samples.” She faced Merrick. “That includes you.”
“Go with her.”
The man who’d spoken up for her straightened and nodded. Not giving them chance to change their mind, she escaped and hurried down the hall. Although she didn’t hear his silent tread, she knew he was there. With each step, she felt more like Alice in the rabbit hole. She’d assumed shifters were free, but they were bound to their pack and duty tighter than she was bound to her blood magic.
Once they were out of range, she whirled. “What the hell is going on?”
The wolf halted as soon as she’d turned. Just when she was convinced that he was not going to speak, he finally relented. “Tell me what’s after you, and I’ll answer.”
Trina snorted. “Your answers aren’t worth the steep price.” She spun and resumed her quick pace down to the labs.
“Are you sure?”
His rough voice made her hesitate. Was she sure? Hell no, but she couldn’t give him what he wanted, and she refused to lie to him.
Her mind swit
ched over to the doctor in her, and she wished she’d grabbed her notes from upstairs. When the lab doors came into view, she halted on the spot.
A line of silent men snaked out the doors and down the hallway. How could they have gotten here so quickly? As if they sensed her, they turned and slowly stepped out of her way. Some even bowed their heads to her when she walked past.
Creepy.
Her magic must have thought so, too, rising under her skin. She swore she could almost see their animals, but that was impossible. Determined not to succumb to the lure of her magic, she increased her pace. She needed to get away from the shifters and their expectations.
Just for a second.
Once inside the lab, there were more waiting, all eerily silent. Not stopping, she headed straight to the back, aiming for the open door and a little privacy to gather her thoughts and calm her magic.
Power burned along her skin, the bonds flexing under the weight of the shifters’ attention. But once she crossed the threshold, she jerked to a stop, rooted to the spot. Nine beds lined the glaringly white walls, the silence so deafening it hurt her ears.
Each bed held the body of a male, all shifters if the energy around them was any indication, but that energy was diluted. She might not have even noticed if her own power hadn’t been so on edge. The episodes were getting more frequent. Her magic wouldn’t be muted for much longer. She had a lot of work to complete before then.
After that, it would be much too late.
She stopped by the first bed. The boy, who couldn’t be much older than twenty, rested on the mattress. It was almost like he was sleeping, only there was no peace on his face. There were no emotions at all. A thin blanket was pulled up to his chest and folded down with military precision. His arms rested at his side.
It was all posed and so horribly wrong.
There was an IV line in his arm, but other than that, nothing. She passed each bed and saw the same scenario repeated. The only thing that changed was the too silent patient. Some were old, some young, but they were all unresponsive.”
“It’s CreedMark.” She whirled at the voice, having forgotten the man who had followed her.
The door opened behind him, and Trina saw Merrick enter the room. His face was stoic, revealing nothing, but she sensed the rioting emotions bubbling beneath the surface.
As he walked toward her, passing each bed, he touched the men.
His friends and family.
“CreedMark started out as a myth, but in the last fifty years, it has become a disease that is killing the shifter race. At first, it slows your healing then makes shifting harder. Ultimately, you permanently turn into your animal or end up slowly go insane when your beast is ripped from you. Either way, you lose your humanity. There is no way to track the process from host to host, as the symptoms and speed varies. And there is no cure.
“These men are the few who refused to bow to the disease. Few drugs work with our metabolism, so they forced themselves into a coma. It slows the disease.”
He didn’t say more, but she knew. “They never wake.”
He shook his head, and his gaze snapped toward hers. “None live past three years. Most die much earlier. Victor seems convinced that you’re the key.”
The silent man behind him spoke. “If anyone is able to manage, it would be her. She healed wounds my men took, wounds that would’ve killed them without her aid.”
Talk about no pressure.
Trina gazed at both men and knew that she couldn’t stand by and do nothing. She had to at least try. She rubbed her brow, and a hint of a smile lifted Merrick’s expression for the first time since the meeting.
“You’re going to help.”
She frowned at him. “I can try, but—”
“You trying is more than what we have right now. The men are waiting for you.” He walked toward the door and reached outside. When he turned, her bag was in his hands. “I thought you might want your notes.”
A little spurt of panic sent her heart racing. She held out her hand, and he relinquished her bag without qualm. She expected to find it ransacked, but nothing appeared disturbed. She didn’t even think he’d peeked inside.
A hand lifted to her face, and she ducked, her arms coming up in a defensive move. And met Merrick’s stare. His movements slowed but didn’t stop, as if she were a damned animal he was gentling. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
One finger caressed the side her face and then ran over the tip of her ear. Like he flipped a switch she hadn’t known she’d possessed, a shudder of pure want enveloped her. Unable to help herself, craving the touch of another person…no, craving his touch, she leaned toward him. It had been so long since she’d allowed anybody close.
She couldn’t have picked anyone worse than the Leo of the pride, but logic didn’t change her body’s reaction one bit.
Without another word, he turned and left, the door swinging shut behind him. She stared at the closed door, trying to get her breathing back under control. She’d thought he was going to kiss her. Hell, even though she knew it would only complicate things, she had cuddled up to him, eager as a kitten for attention.
Thankfully, one of them had some common sense.
It galled her to admit that it had been him.
When she turned, it was to find that her guard had his back toward her to give them privacy. As if sensing her regard, he turned to face her.
His appearance was lean, almost rangy, a dark blond mop of hair that made her itch for a scissors to fix it. Though he was a shifter, the man was armed to the gills. He was a soldier. A leader even. She didn’t know jack about shifter communities, but she’d bet her new stake she was correct.
“What’s your name?”
“Weston.”
He didn’t say if it was a first or last name, and she didn’t ask, afraid he would demand answers of his own.
“Wolves might be treacherous, but cats are sneaky.” He nodded to the door. “You should be wary of him.”
Part of her was leery, but she’d been away from her family and on the run for so long that she was running on fumes. If she didn’t start trusting someone, it would be much too late for any of them.
“And I should trust you?”
Weston shrugged. “Maybe not, but I don’t have a hidden agenda.”
It stung to admit that Merrick might, and she snapped back. “Don’t you? You lead your own men. I saw you from my window each time they came for help, guarding their backs. Leaders are always plotting.”
Again with the damn shrug. “True enough, but you’re valuable to the pack now. That makes you both protected and vulnerable.”
Now that she had him talking, she pushed for more. “Because of the concubine thing.”
He nonchalantly reached for his weapon, and checked the clip as if to keep his hands busy. “That’s part of it.” He racked one into the chamber. The sound was deadly, and she wondered why she didn’t feel threatened by him.
He’d pulled a gun.
He was alone with her.
It would be easy to kill her right then.
Then he looked up at her with such stark eyes that her paranoia eased. “My men and I are mercenaries. We travel from territory to territory wherever we’re needed. We don’t pledge to just one pack, and we never stay in one place long.”
“But you stayed here for over a year. I’ve been patching your men up for that long.”
He holstered the gun. “Trouble’s brewing, and it’s starting here. We go where we’re needed.”
“And you won’t leave until it’s settled.” He didn’t sound much like a mercenary, more like a man who was determined to do what needed to be done.
“We’re a motley group, but we’re the best.”
“And what do you want in return for guarding me?”
His teeth flashed in a bright smile, but faded as soon as it came. “When the trouble begins, you will be the center of it. In the meantime, you will find the cure for CreedMark.”
He sounded so confident, so sure of her.
He knew too much.
Pieces of him didn’t add up. She didn’t want to believe he was the threat, but she couldn’t assume he was innocent just because she didn’t want to believe it.
His pack was the only one who had known where she’d lived. And now that place was destroyed. Had he followed her to the pack? Or orchestrated the whole thing to get her here?
Instincts kicked in. She fisted her hands until the sharpened edges of the ring she’d filed down pinched then cut deep.
When blood scented the air, she saw him turn toward her, his gun drawn with incredible speed as he searched for a target.
But she was faster. She lifted her hand, a trickle of blood running down her finger. The magic in the room thickened, coming to her call.
She poured in more until Weston’s form moved like he was stuck in molasses. A few seconds more and he stopped altogether. In retaliation for raising so much magic, the bindings wrapped around her chest until she struggled for each inhalation. The consequences were growing stronger. She had less than a minute before she passed out. She approached cautiously, Weston’s rage palpable the closer she drew.
She took her bloody finger and pressed it to the front of his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, his body bowing to her touch.
There was more to him than just being a shifter. “You have magic.”
She backed away and popped her finger in her mouth to remove the blood staining her finger. Whatever magic the blood had activated suddenly vanished, and she nearly keeled over at the abrupt loss.
Weston tumbled forward, barely catching himself in time. He glared at her when he straightened, and she half-expected him to aim his gun at her.
“How?”
He headed toward the door as if to leave, and she hurried after him.
“Don’t. Please. It’s important. I wouldn’t have risked exposing myself otherwise.”
That gave him pause, but the stiff set of his shoulders let her know that he hadn’t forgiven her. With his back still toward her, his hand on the knob, he spoke. “My grandfather mated with the pack’s Familiaran and produced offspring.”
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