by Dianna Love
He hated to be in this position, but he hated it just as much for Tess. Maybe more. He’d been yanked into this world by dormant genes that came to life prematurely, based on what the Guardian had told him, but Tess was human.
An innocent.
Brantley headed toward them.
Cole’s seconds with Tess were coming to an end. This time, he’d never see her again. He had so many things he wanted to tell her, so many things he had to explain, but he couldn’t do it here and now.
What he could do was ease her burden. “I forgive you, Tess. I understand what you’re doing and that you would never intentionally hurt someone. You’re too sweet, too honorable and too decent for this world.”
Her eyes widened with shock. “What did—”
Cole barely moved his head from side to side, telling her not to say another word.
“Time to go,” Brantley ordered. “Load him up.”
The jackal with curly, carrot-colored hair yanked Cole up the steps. The other shifter followed along behind, holding the chain around Cole’s waist.
When they had him in the center of the cargo area, they positioned him spread-eagle. They hooked three-inch-wide titanium manacles around his wrists that had chains running to opposite upper corners of the box structure. Those chains ran through thick steel guides and down the corners to a unit that reminded Cole of a small motor with low gears.
That would probably cinch the chains tight.
Similar cuffs were put on each ankle before releasing his leg containments. Those cuffs had chains running to opposing corners of the cargo box, which they tightened until he stood with his feet far apart.
What the hell?
Cole could shift and drop out of any of those manacles. He perked up. Transporting him this way could provide a chance to escape.
Hadn’t they tried this with other shifters?
Brantley grinned. “Like our new transport vehicle?”
Oh, so it was a first time. He’d break it in for them. Cole ignored the snide comment.
With a nod from Brantley, one of the jackals hit a button near the back door.
The grind of a winch motor hummed and chains began slowly tightening, pulling his arms straight out. Then the chains hooked to his legs slid away from him as a second motor started, forcing his legs wide. Too wide.
The motors stopped.
Cole drew short breaths and fought to stifle a groan over how taut his body was being drawn in four directions.
He clenched his jaw shut, refusing to let even a grunt slip out.
“A word to the wise,” Brantley went on in his superior tone that Cole was looking forward to shoving down his throat. “It’s more than a tensioning system. If you get the wise idea to change to your wolf, this has been designed with a shifter in mind. Your arms and legs draw up before the muscles and bone change, which means you’ll tug on the chains at that point. One slight pull and the chains tighten a half-inch snugger ... all four. From what I’m told, once you start shifting, it’s hard to stop. That would really suck, because continuing to activate it will result in at least one limb being ripped out.”
Fuck.
Cole couldn’t look at Tess when she gasped. He could smell her anxiety. He doubted anyone had told her about this new mode of transporting prisoners.
The rear door slammed shut and he held every muscle as still as he could to keep from activating a motor. He’d trained to endure the worst torture imaginable, but with no idea how long this trip would be, he wasn’t sure he’d arrive in one piece.
Chapter 11
You’re too sweet, too honorable and too decent for this world.
Tess couldn’t breathe.
Cole Cavanaugh had once said that to her.
How would this Colin know that? She refused to believe in coincidences. If not for Colin being a shifter, she’d think that was Cole, but it couldn’t be. Cole was human.
That shifter was screwing with her mind. Maybe he could read minds and found that in her thoughts.
Why?
She had no use for people jerking her chain. With that in mind, she rounded on Brantley.
“Why didn’t you tell me about that transport?” Tess asked, not hiding her anger from anyone. She’d probably regret it later when she received sideways looks from the staff, but they needed to know she would not tolerate being unpleasantly surprised when dealing with a prisoner’s life.
Brantley sliced a look around to where staff stood listening and opened his mouth as if to issue an order.
Oh, hell no.
Tess turned to the group and calmly announced, “Everyone, please go back to your jobs.”
They glanced at Brantley, then Tess, and headed back to the house where they could access the elevator to their underground facility.
In ten seconds, it was only the two of them under a blazing sun and gentle breeze that would normally lift her spirits.
Not today.
Swatting a blunt look of irritation at her, he said, “I go along with pretty much everything you say even when I don’t agree. I do that out of respect for our working together. You have your duties and I have mine, which include developing better security standards at every opportunity. That new armored vehicle is a step toward protecting our people who have to transport dangerous shifters. What’s your problem with it?”
She couldn’t face Colin ending up ripped into pieces.
Admitting that about a shifter who had almost killed two jackals would reach the chief before dark, for starters.
Anyone she worked with going forward would judge her as unable to make the hard choices when it came to shifters.
Would they be right?
She’d never had a problem following through with any other shifter, but she’d also not had to send a man to his death. Colin believed he was not going to survive this.
Something inside her agreed.
What had happened from the moment they’d brought him in?
She was almost getting used to the damn buzzing her internal energy was causing.
She needed to take the time off that everyone kept trying to push on her, including Brantley. Was she being unfair to criticize him when he was clearly doing his job?
“I’m sorry, Brantley, I just ... want to be fair to everyone and I guess that isn’t always possible.”
His face softened and his tone carried understanding. “You are fair. You’re what gives this program balance, but we offered that man a chance to tell his side. He clammed up. No, he tried to play us against each other. I’m never going to allow a prisoner to do that. I trust your decisions and hope you trust mine.”
“I do.” She wished that had been the truth, but it was what Brantley needed to hear right now.
“Thank you. Here’s what you don’t realize. That shifter will be very still the entire way to SNR-4.”
That would be the Southeastern Nonhuman Rehabilitation facility two hours away.
Brantley continued explaining, “The ride alone will exhaust a shifter, which will allow the guards to put him into his cell without him or anyone else getting injured. In the past, we’ve had shifters rested during a drive and they attacked once they were pulled out. This also starts O’Donnell toward rethinking his position sooner. By the time he spends a week in a hole, he’ll be willing to negotiate a deal. That’s when we’ll gain intel on the bombing and the Black River pack.” He smiled, Mr. Charming coming out to play.
He added in a joking, self-deprecating tone, “There is a method to my madness.”
She suffered a moment of guilt over her lack of faith in a man who had been at her side during the Black River pack investigation for months, even if he was vying for the same position she wanted.
Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she nodded in agreement. “Good points. Maybe next time, give me a tour of your new security so I won’t be surprised.”
He looked chagrined. “You’re right. I should have thought to do that, but so much has been going on that it didn’t
dawn on me. Consider me chastised.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if.”
“Now, let’s go grab lunch and look over our case files.”
Her stomach had no interest in food. A group of carnival performers were doing nonstop stunts that had started the minute the truck pulled away.
She had the unreasonable urge to get in her car and follow.
But she didn’t.
Walking inside with Brantley, she decided to put in for time off. She had to get her head on straight before the upcoming congressional meeting. She had to be spot-on during the questioning.
Any hint of weakness and someone who opposed SCIS would go for blood, regardless of how much pull her father had.
He would not be at this meeting, and to be honest, she was glad for that since they did not agree on anything to do with shifters. Still, she could not walk into the meeting unprepared.
If Brantley was right and Colin O’Donnell decided to play ball once he got a look at his new home, then she’d have something really strong to share at the meeting.
That didn’t appease the sick churning in her stomach.
Colin still hadn’t been proven guilty of belonging to the Black River pack.
She’d give Colin a couple of days, then she’d make a trip to the SNR facility and push him for answers. That would help her with the committee and put her in a position to get him out of that hole, as long as Brantley didn’t buck her.
They had to look united when she gave her report since he’d be sitting next to her.
All these years she’d worked toward the moment where she could turn SCIS from a law enforcement support agency to a bigger operation. One capable of managing shifter investigations and human-shifter relations.
That might be what it took to find answers she needed on her mother’s case. Her father refused to even discuss her mother’s death and if Tess guessed right, he’d been instrumental in getting that case sealed.
But Tess had her own resources now.
As she walked into the farmhouse, she opened the door to the elevator that would take her back underground.
Colin’s words still echoed in her mind.
You’re too sweet, too honorable and too decent for this world.
Chapter 12
Cole kept doing deep breathing exercises to maintain his imitation of a twisted statue, talking to himself so he didn’t so much as sneeze.
Thursday was as good a day to die as any, but he preferred a different day—one much later than today.
The road had been smooth for the last forty or fifty minutes. If that continued, he could hold out for hours.
The truck slowed and made a right.
It felt as if they were on an interstate, which would mean he was being transported to SNR-4, a maximum-security shifter prison. They called it a rehab center as if someone was going to teach shifters how to not be predators.
No fences or concertina wire.
All the cells were below ground with concrete walls two feet thick and inch-thick titanium inner walls. Not even a Gallize shifter could get through that structure. His people believed a Cadell had been involved in designing those pits.
That level of security wasn’t necessary for standard shifters.
A few minutes later, the truck slowed again and turned to the left onto a bumpy road.
“Whoa.” Cole tightened the muscles in his body to keep his balance steady so that he didn’t move his arms or legs. “What the fuck?”
The jackal shifters up front could hear him, just like he heard them chuckle. He had to work harder to maintain his balance or he would lose a limb.
Where were they taking him?
The road into the prison should be a two-lane highway through flat terrain. They couldn’t be anywhere close to it yet. He knew because he’d scouted the prison when it was under construction in hopes of catching a Cadell on site.
Another bump had him sucking in his abs and arching to hold his arms in place. He might have managed to reach the prison in one piece if the driver had stayed on the interstate, but he wouldn’t survive an unpaved road.
Was the point to force him to succumb to this chain system and rip his body apart?
That way, Brantley could point at what was left of his body and say, “This is the reason we need a barbarian transportation plan to deal with mindless beasts.”
Cole wobbled and rolled his hips, adjusting to the rough road. He wouldn’t give in, no matter what they did. If he thought the jackals would stop to check on him, he’d twist a wrist until the manacle cut his skin and call for help.
But these two would howl with laughter if he asked for anything.
If he managed to avoid literally being drawn and quartered by the tension system, the jackal shifters would have to go to Plan B. Take him out of the cargo space and use his head for target practice.
That would be a mistake he’d capitalize on if they gave him an opening.
His wolf hadn’t pushed to get out since they left, but now Gray Wolf had gotten agitated again.
Not crazy agitated this time. Stressed.
His wolf probably sensed that they were facing death, but Cole was saying nothing to clue him in. Better to have Gray Wolf in curious mode than crazy mode, which Cole couldn’t handle in this position.
The truck hit a dip that bounced the entire frame.
Cole lost his balance.
Four chains cinched tighter.
His muscles stretched. Tendons strained. Shit, he wasn’t going to make it. One more bump and an arm might tear at the shoulder.
Now Gray Wolf knew they were in trouble.
He snarled to be released.
Cole had learned early on that ordering his wolf to do anything was a mistake and last night was a reminder. Gray Wolf had been working with him during some of the captivity so Cole pleaded, Please don’t fight me or we’ll die faster.
His wolf howled at him.
Cole understood. He’d managed to let them both down. On top of that, he was pretty sure he’d left Tess exposed to a Cadell with no idea what kind of being she had as a partner.
How much more miserable could this day get?
Two thumps landed on the roof of the cargo area.
Shit. Who would that be? His mind wanted to convince him it was his team, but they had no way to track him.
Not unless they’d followed him to the SCIS facility. If that had been the case, the Guardian would have come up with a way to extract Cole before now.
The sound of glass crashing came next. Someone screamed. Might be a jackal ... might be whoever had attacked them.
Then the van rocked from one side to another, giving Cole’s abs a lethal workout to maintain his balance.
Damn. This could be an attack by the Black River pack who wanted Cole. This supported the suspicion of a leak in SCIS.
Someone might have alerted the local Black River wolf pack that Cole was being transported. The note stuck to Sonic had been specifically for Cole. He still couldn’t figure out how they knew he’d been the one leading teams to bust their balls.
They probably tortured Sonic to get what he knew, but Sonic wouldn’t have had that information. The next possibility was a mole inside Gallize, which was ... beyond something Cole would even consider.
He’d like to feel encouraged by an attack on the jackals, because he could take on three or four Black River pack shifters in a straight up battle.
But tied up like a hog for roasting, he had no chance.
Gray Wolf shoved and pushed.
Cole told him, If I have no other hope, I’ll try to shift and let you loose, but we’ll lose body parts.
That didn’t calm his wolf, but it made Cole feel better to give that promise.
The truck slowed and bumped to a stop as if the driver just took his foot off the brake.
Releasing a breath he’d held too long, Cole became very still. His shoulder and hip joints were strained beyond belief. His abs were shot.
Every mu
scle trembled from doing its best to keep his body from being yanked apart.
He heard the sound of a helicopter’s whomp, whomp, whomp approaching and landing close enough to hear the rotors slow down.
That would be his next ride, but to where?
That’s when he realized his wolf had quieted. Really? Now, when it was time to rise up and kick ass?
Had he ever been in a more vulnerable position while conscious? None that he could recall.
A shirring sound started at the rear. He saw sparks coming through from a blowtorch being used. That wouldn’t be the jackal shifters, but did that mean his questionable rescuers hadn’t found the key to unlock the doors?
Could this be his team?
No. His team would have called out and let him know they were breaking into the cargo area.
Just another reason to prepare himself for the Black River pack. Had they wanted to kill him in the bombing? If so, this would be quick, but if that wasn’t today’s mission, he could be facing worst than the pit.
The torch sound ceased. Water splashed on the metal, then the doors opened slowly.
Cole squinted against the sun backlighting them and blinding him.
Chapter 13
“Hey man, this looks like a bad S and M scene. You shouldn’t have any clothes on.”
Cole almost sagged with relief at hearing Justin’s voice, but he caught himself before he ruined a great rescue. “If I move, this setup will rip my arms off.”
A string of cursing came from behind Justin. That would be Rory who then asked, “Think we can cut it with the torch?”
“No. Any movement pulls all the chains another half inch tighter.”
“Another, as in it’s already done it once?”
“Yep,” Cole grunted, all of a sudden tired. His wolf was active, but not acting like the roaring asshole Gray Wolf could be.
Rory said, “I got an idea. Don’t move.”
“Not funny, dickhead,” Cole muttered.
“It will be when I get you out of there.” Rory stepped up into the cargo bay with a portable torch. He pointed at Cole’s right arm and told Justin, “Grab that chain right where it goes into the tubing and don’t let it move.”