by Dianna Love
“I can call someone,” she offered, sounding unsure. Nothing like the woman who had taken his heart by storm and been prepared to marry him in spite of her father expecting her to strive for a man who could match her social background.
“I’m good, really,” he said, then killed his firm answer with a moment of coughing.
“I wish I knew more about shifter medicine. Here, sip more water.”
He did, then laid back when she took the cup away.
What was Tess doing here? She’d been terrified of shifters when they came out, and her father hated them.
He’d been gone for a long time, supporting the military overseas and had stayed busy enough not to pay attention to the life he’d left.
But he had heard about her mother dying and a shifter being at fault.
Once again, he wondered how Tess could be sitting next to him at this moment.
When shifters first came out, he and Tess had debated about what that meant to everyone’s future. Being her father’s daughter, she’d agreed shifters should be put on the equivalent of a reservation.
Even as he’d worried about keeping her safe and how life as he’d known it had changed, he felt everyone born to this world deserved the chance to live free.
But her father had feared shifters, spouting that they were only mindless killing machines who should be captured and locked away.
When Senator Janver failed to get a bill through legislation to have shifters captured and put into one big compound, he changed his course and started a campaign to brand their human forms.
That bill was catching support.
Once Cole had been taken to the Guardian, he was put through a year of intense training and allowed to contact no one. He’d never returned to find Tess after that for one simple reason. He couldn’t face her, knowing they now stood on opposite sides of an invisible line. He couldn’t face the heartbreaking disappointment he knew he’d see.
But when the mating curse kicked in, he’d decided to make one last stop before he turned himself in to the Guardian, so that he could tell her what happened. He’d give her an edited version that would protect his Gallize family, but as much of the truth as he could. She deserved the truth, even if he had to hear her tell him she would never forgive him.
The day he’d accepted that he and Tess had no future had been the hardest moment in his life. To survive in his new world, he’d had to convince the Guardian and the team that he had let go of his past.
Until this minute, he’d believed he had.
But all he could think of right now was how much he wanted to touch Tess. Just brush his hand over her hair and feel its silky softness again. His brain took note of every tiny fraction of the scent he captured from her.
She said, “Do you need a pain med—”
“I don’t. No drugs, please.” He just needed to catch a breath and clear that crap out of his system. He didn’t know why he hadn’t healed, but drugs were never good for shifters.
Her sigh took him back to when she’d lose patience with him when they disagreed on something. He’d hear that sound and fold like a house of cards for whatever he’d done.
The next thing she knew, he’d have her up against a wall, forgetting their silly argument.
For all that was holy, he couldn’t take being this close to her.
Not again.
“Okay, then,” she went on. “Let’s start with you telling me who you are.”
Dream on, angel. But he kept that to himself. If he admitted to being a shifter, then he’d have to identify a pack or clan where he lived.
What was he thinking?
She’d already insinuated he was a shifter. This group had to know that much already. As a minimum, they knew he wasn’t human.
How many humans could have survived being slammed into a brick wall by that explosion? None.
To tell the truth, he hadn’t thought even a Gallize shifter could.
Had his little old homeless woman lived? She should have, but if he asked he’d have to admit knowing more than he wanted to right now. Surely, someone would have taken care of her.
If she hadn’t survived, he hoped her passing was peaceful.
Playing dumb might not benefit him.
If he had to make an educated guess, this was some division of SCIS. That agency took the lead in any incident involving a shifter. He wished now that he was a tech geek like Rory, who probably knew the names of the most significant SCIS personnel.
Cole had never cared who did what. The Guardian handled politics and agency dealings since so few even knew about the Gallize.
The last thing Cole expected was to find Tess working at SCIS.
If this was SCIS, they could throw him in a titanium-reinforced hole in the ground to heal. Once that happened, he’d never find a way out. His people had to be searching for him right now, which begged the question—exactly where was he located? He needed information for any hope of getting out or giving his team time to locate him.
She said, “Being evasive will not help you.”
That sounded all legal and serious, which fit her perfectly.
Tess had been studying law, but she’d planned to specialize in ... hell, he couldn’t remember. She wanted to protect national forests and help Native Americans. Something like that.
Her father had hated the idea.
Cole had loved her rebellious side.
She sighed again.
Even if he had it in him to shove her up against a wall and kiss the daylights out of her, he doubted it would end happily.
Where to start?
Remember me, Tess? I’m now a wolf shifter, the one being you’ve been conditioned to think of as a monster.
To be fair, that wasn’t far from the truth, especially now that his wolf and he were turning into two beings.
Cole forced his mind back on how to get out of here, which wouldn’t happen until he unearthed more information. He searched mentally for everything he could recall from that night and what her group, whoever she worked with, might have figured out.
He cleared his throat. “Here’s what I remember. I was walking by a building in downtown Spartanburg and the thing blew up. Have no idea what was going on or who did it, only that I was in the wrong place when everything went kaboom.”
“So you weren’t inside when it happened?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
“Lock pick tools were found on what was left of your clothes.”
Damn. That little detail had slipped his mind. “I’ve had them for a long time. They were a gift. No law against owning them.” He wanted that last comment back the minute it left his lips. It was definitely illegal in some states even if there was no intent to commit a crime. So sue me for not being able to think clearly.
“That’s partially true ... for humans. However, a law has just been passed that prevents shifters from owning any lock picking tools.”
Of course there was, and he’d bet her father had been behind it.
Cole had been on back-to-back missions for the last three months. He hadn’t been in places where he could keep up with news that didn’t involve national security.
She knew he was a shifter, but she’d soon know his full identity the minute his face healed.
He argued in a voice so rough it hurt his own ears. “That’s a ridiculous law. Why shouldn’t a shifter be able to apply for a locksmith job? It’s tough out there for shifters. The only person who wants to hire us is another shifter, which means the business owner is limited to a small pool of applicants, or ... some human who just wants a pet around.”
Yeah, his voice rolled out ripe with disgust, but that was the truth for many shifters without the network of support he enjoyed as a Gallize.
She had been tapping her finger on the rail bordering his bed, another habit from her past that he noted, but she suddenly ceased making any noise.
Silence filled the air, expanded and locked them in a stalemate.
He waited her out. P
eople tended to talk when things got quiet, but he’d been trained to sit still for days when necessary. His patience paid off.
She said, “I don’t believe you were there by accident.”
Her blurry shape sat back.
He tried to squint her into focus. The image got a little better. He could make out the shape of her hair now. That black mass used to fall down to her waist, but it now seemed to be piled up on her head. Back in school, she’d chop it off, but that silky mane would grow right back before she turned around. She’d complain about having to make cut appointments as often as brushing her teeth. One time, she’d grabbed her hair in a fist and threatened to whack it off herself.
He cajoled her out of that insane action by pulling her shirt over her head and leaving her that way as he yanked her panties down and gave her something new to worry about.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
“I did.” Unfortunately she’d snapped him back to the present, which sucked, because he’d been enjoying that little moment. He kept his voice as gravelly as he could to prevent her from discovering his identity until there was no choice. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. I had nothing to do with that explosion. If you’re just looking for a shifter to hang it on, then I guess I’m your guy.”
She gasped before she could quell the sound.
Bull’s-eye.
Tess had a streak of fairness that ran through her core. She hated to be considered unfair and dealing with shifters must be challenging that personal doctrine.
Under normal circumstances, he would never take advantage of knowledge about her, but this could be the difference between life and death.
His.
Why would she think he was involved in the explosion?
Unless ... she, or her people, knew the Black River pack were distributing through that warehouse. If so, why had SCIS shown up right then?
He pressed his advantage. “Were you just hanging around the area, waiting on some unsuspecting shifter to step into a bomb scene or was that staged?”
“Of course it wasn’t staged.”
“I heard sirens at the same moment the bomb detonated. How could you know to be there that quickly?”
“I’m not the one who has to answer questions. What’s your name?”
“Colin. Your lack of answer means it was staged.” He’d helped her practice cross examinations back in first year law school, because she’d wanted to be so ready for when she had to start trial classes. He remembered something similar she’d said during a heated exchange with him as the witness.
His agency had taught him to never share more than necessary. He’d known a boy called Colin in the children’s home and the Guardian had used the name Colin O’Donnell to create an identity if he ever needed one.
He needed it.
She said, “Just to clear up any confusion about our part in this, SCIS received a tip that shifters had infiltrated the food bank. We were a half mile away when the building exploded.”
SCIS? Just as he’d guessed. He’d caught snippets of news that SCIS were under threat of losing their funding if they didn’t hand over someone from the Black River pack soon.
They definitely needed a shifter scapegoat.
Well, shit, even if he could expose his true identity, he couldn’t prove it since there were no records of him anywhere. Talk about being the perfect fall guy.
“Do I get an attorney? Any representation?” he asked, wondering if that would tweak her belief in fairness.
“No. Due to being part of an investigation that affects national security—”
“What?”
“—you can see no one until SCIS approves it and that isn’t going to happen even though I would allow it.”
Yep, he’d dinged her conscience with that one. “You have nothing that ties me to that bomb other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
She didn’t acknowledge that, instead whispering, “I can only keep you here until you’re able to survive in lockup.” She sounded apologetic. “If you know anything about that explosion or something that was going on in that building, you should tell me now.”
He didn’t want to hurt Tess, no matter what.
The sooner he got out of here, and preferably before she recognized him, the sooner she’d be safe.
The Black River pack had known he was going to be close to the building. They killed Sonic and set up that bomb. Hell, they probably paid the old woman to sneak inside. He wouldn’t hold it against a homeless person trying to survive on the streets.
They also had someone inside SCIS. Emergency vehicles had arrived within seconds after the bomb detonated.
That took coordination.
Screw this shit. He needed a plan and couldn’t come up with one with Tess so close. Not when any plan included unleashing Gray Wolf.
Chapter 6
Cole kept his breathing calm while he raced to come up with a way to escape this facility. But he had one more question for Tess. “Why haven’t I shifted?”
“The medics weren’t sure you’d survive shifting in the condition you were in. They feared you might become stuck in mid-shift. You’re being given a special tranquilizer mix. A full dose would stop an elephant in its tracks, but you’re on a drip that is just enough to keep you from going under completely. I backed it off when I came in to see if you were ready to wake up and talk.”
That explained why his wolf hadn’t taken over.
He should have known better than to think the explosion might have done something positive to his wolf.
What a joke.
This crap going in his system only delayed the inevitable, and he had a bad feeling his wolf would be in even worse shape once he got off the juice.
Speaking of his wolf ... the beast had been quiet since Cole opened his eyes this time. Too quiet, even with the super-Valium cocktail. That worried him more than all he faced, which was saying something with the mess he was in between being framed for the explosion and suffering the mating curse.
Shit. The only woman he would ever take as a mate was sitting inches away and he couldn’t touch her, much less claim her.
Angry now, Cole pointed out, “The only way I’d be too injured to shift was if I’d died.” Not necessarily true, but while she might have knowledge of shifters, she knew nothing about the Gallize variety. He added, “Not allowing me to shift is preventing me from healing.”
“I know. I mean, you are healing, but slowly.”
“Technically, this is torture,” he snapped. Okay, that was a low blow since he knew she’d never torture or harm anything. She couldn’t kill a damn bug back when she’d found one in their apartment.
“Your medical treatment is not up to me and I’m not the one who blew up a building,” she defended with no small amount of irritation.
Attagirl. Give me shit.
That eased his conscience. He had to get her out of here and without her turning on the drip again.
It hurt to push her away and he hated lying to her, but he said, “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know how I ended up near that building just as a bomb exploded. I’ve had that lock pick set since I was a kid. Got it when I was captured as a runaway teen and put in a home with some sick fucks. They ... ” He paused for effect. “Did things to the kids that I won’t describe. All I remember before the explosion was working in that area as day labor. I went to get some dinner and ... I just don’t ... know what happened. You’re not going to believe me. No one will. I’m screwed.” He tried to grab his head, but his bad arm hurt too much to move and his good arm was stuck. Restraints. “Oh, shit, just do whatever you’re gonna do.”
Tess moved forward, putting her hand next to him on the bed. “Okay, take it easy. Maybe more details will come back to you.”
Hallelujah. She took the bait. Hook, line and ten-pound sinker.
“I don’t understand ... who would ... ” He blinked his one eye, intending to sell it some more to get her on his side, b
ut she touched his face.
One touch and he forgot about anything except her fingers on his skin.
His body knew her.
His skin begged for her hands anywhere she could put them.
His heart cried out for the woman he loved.
She stroked his face on the side that wasn’t burned and smoothed her hand over his hair that might be an inch long by now. He shook with the need to put his arm around her and feel her body next to his.
To taste her skin. He’d spent hours loving her any chance they got. She liked to have her nipples sucked when he teased her to an orgasm. If she got that wild glint in her eyes, she’d shove him back and ride him.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, misunderstanding a hard shudder that ran through his body as a reaction to pain.
Oh hell, he was definitely in pain.
He had a boner working.
If she saw that, she might up his tranq dosage.
Now this was torture. He wanted her to stroke him like she used to or allow him to reach down and do it himself. Neither was going to happen.
That surge of life inside him must have been enough to wake the beast.
His wolf lunged and clawed in a wild effort to break free.
“Oh, hell!” Cole ground out at the sudden pain. That killed the boner.
Tess jumped back. “What’d I do?”
“Nothing. Not ... your fault.” He was half sitting up. “I just had a cramp.”
Fucking wolf snarled to get out.
You’re not getting near her, he silently told Gray Wolf.
His wolf howled.
Tough shit. Cole felt just as frustrated, but for a different reason. He had to get Tess out of here and shift to heal. That would be tricky. What if there was a video feed transmitting to a monitor?
He challenged her again. “Are people staring at me like a bug in a box? I heard that’s what happens to shifters used in experiments.”
“No, SCIS is a law enforcement arm. We do not hand anyone over for experiments. No one is watching you due to the necessity of you being naked for treatments. You have rights, unless you’re convicted of killing humans. We don’t want shifter lawsuits over lack of privacy while you’re a suspect.”