by Sadie Hart
Torres stared down at her, dark eyes narrowed. “What is wrong with you?”
He shoved her back to the dirt and stepped around her, only to whirl around, arms spread wide. “They’re monsters, Lennox. You fucking know this.”
One booted foot slashed out at the ground and a spray of pebbles bit into her skin. Lennox yelped and turned away, shielding her injured side. “They’re aggressive. Killers. How many have you dragged in over the years, claws bared, your Hounds slaughtered?”
His fingers burrowed into her hair as he wrenched her head back again. “Answer me!”
Lennox twisted in his grip, slashing out at his face. It was enough to make him jerk back, slipping over the loose gravel; he slid down a few feet into the gulch. “Then let me speak.”
Her tongue ran over a roughened spot on her lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood. It filled her mouth, bitter and sharp. Damn. She’d bit more than her lip when he’d attacked her that time. She spat red on the ground to her side and lugged herself to her feet, wavering a little as nauseous gripped her stomach. She’d be lucky if she made it through this alive. Even if she managed to kill him, she was out in the middle of nowhere. No phone and she was so damn wet she’d be lucky if her frozen fingers could work well enough to get a fire going.
Shivers rattled through her bones, just in case she wasn’t aware that she had enough shit going wrong. Torres glared up at her and spread his arms wide again, demanding an answer.
When she glanced away, he roared, slamming fists down against the ground in another spray of gravel. His breathing was ragged, labored. “They’re fucking lions, Lennox. They have no loyalty.” He reared back, lips twisting as something horrific dawned on his face. Disgust finished curving his lips into a sneer. “Like you. You fucking bitch. Bree and I were your friends. We trusted you. I trusted you! Taught you everything I know.”
He rammed a fist against his chest. “You were like a daughter to me and yet, you screw the fucking monsters that stole my daughter.”
Lennox spun on him. “Arianna is dead, Torres, and it wasn’t Kanon or Tegan who killed her.”
“How do you know? Tell me.” He lunged at her, still faster than she could ever hope to be, especially this wounded. One hand caught hold of her calf and he yanked her down. Her right arm slammed into a boulder and she bounced to the ground, dirt and rocks digging into her open cuts.
Lennox bit back a scream as he tugged her underneath him, towering over her. Spittle dripped into her face as he talked. “They’re lions. You don’t know a damn thing about them.” He leaned closed and scented her skin, nostrils flaring wide, the edges reddened. “Except how they feel in bed.”
Torres backhanded her hard enough her head snapped back into the ground, her split lip bleeding freely. Lennox tasted the fresh blood with her tongue. “So far the only person killing people right now is you.”
Torres rammed his hands into her shoulders, shoving her harder into the ground. White hot pain seared straight through her right side under the force of his weight. “They took her. They made me think she was dead. Slaughtered in her own bed.”
He shook her, the raw desperation in his voice making him scream. Lennox closed her eyes and forced herself to talk through the pain. “She’s dead, Torres. A year ago. No one took her.”
“You saw her!”
“No.” Lennox rammed a leg up between them and Torres let her go, rising to stand over her. He shook his head, dark eyebrows slashed at an angle over his face as he struggled to speak. Lennox slumped her head back against the ground. “No. What I saw was a lion cub. Did you even smell her?”
A cold snarl ripped through him and he lashed out, one booted foot slamming into her right side, digging deep into the open wound. He kicked again and again. Lennox rolled, trying to avoid the blows, but Torres just kept coming. One handed, he jerked her back, ramming a knee into her gut as he fell upon her.
“Traitor,” he spat in her face, leaving a wet trail over her cheek.
“Fuck you.” Lennox stared back up at him, blood thick in her mouth. “I didn’t kill those people, innocent people.”
“No. Those monsters—”
“No one killed anyone but you!” She rammed her good hand up, the heel of her palm smashing into his nose. Cartilage snapped under her palm, blood slick over her wrist. Torres screamed and staggered backwards, a snarl coiling up under the pained cry, until the outraged yelp turned into a full body growl. His shoulders tensed and locked forward.
His lips bared as blood trailed down from his nose, coloring his teeth red. Red snot snorted from him as he blew out a sharp huff of air. Lennox dragged herself up behind a boulder, struggling to keep herself from falling. To put something solid between him and her.
But she refused to back down.
“Tristan and Carolyn Hale were killed by you. Aibileen Walters was killed by you. Those four kids?” She slashed out with her good arm. “That was you, no one else. You’re the monster. I saw what you did to Rulon.”
“A lion.” He leapt at the boulder, open palms slapping against the rock, and Lennox staggered back. Her gaze scanned the ground for anything she could use against him. Small enough she could pick up and wield with one hand, yet strong enough it could deal some damage. “He was a goddamned lion.”
Her gaze fixated on a stick several feet to her left and she staggered for it. Torres caught her around her waist, just as her fingers wrapped around the wood. She wrenched it back and brought the branch down across his head. Torres jerked it out of her hands and sent it tumbling, but Lennox rammed the heel of her fist down against the side of his head.
He stumbled and she kicked out, ramming a knee under his chest and sending him toppling back into the boulder behind him. “Arianna is dead. A rogue lion killed her and I’m sorry you never found the bastard who did it. I’m sorry. But that doesn’t make any of this right. The world is full of monsters, Torres, that doesn’t mean you get to be one.”
Torres glanced up and Lennox struggled to keep her feet under her, dizziness nibbling at the edge of her consciousness. “I’m sorry, but that was one lion. This, everything you’ve done, it’s not right.”
“One lion? What about all the rest? All the scumbags we’ve dragged in? Do you know how much silver I’ve pumped into lions over the years?”
“They’re not all bad. Every species has their bad apples.”
“Of course, because yours are the exception. They’re special.” He spat the last word at her. “Do you know why I chose Kanon?”
When she didn’t answer, he gave a laugh and shoved himself off the boulder, stepping closer. His movements seemed hazy, blurry. The world around him fuzzy. She blinked to steady her vision.
“He had a record, Lennox. He’s not good.”
“A juvenile record.”
“He beat the pulp out of another kid. Damn near ripped the boy apart.”
Not exactly surprising for a lion-shifter living life as a rogue without a pride. “In adolescence coming into sexual maturity no doubt. Every species has this story, a thousand times over. How many fights did you get into while growing up?”
Torres jerked back, head cocked. “Why defend him? Defend them?”
There was no answer that was going to end well. Lennox knew it. So she did the only thing she could do. She tilted her head up, smiled at him, and told the truth.
“Because I love them.”
She was ready when he lunged at her this time and she jumped to the side, staggering over the slippery rocks. Dazed and exhausted, Lennox stumbled deeper into the gulch. Loose stones sprayed out under her feet as she slipped down the embankment and into the ravine. Scrub bushes reached out for her as she ran.
There was nowhere to go, but she’d be damned if he won without a fight.
***
Kanon watched the bloodhound circle in front of them, tail low, long ears tickling over the yellow reed grasses and the wet rocks jutting out from the shore. Dim light poured out from what was left of the
sun, and Brandt had pulled out a flashlight. A surprise. Kanon hadn’t thought the Hounds would keep searching into nightfall.
Then again, there’d been no doubt between Tegan and him. They weren’t leaving this goddamn property without Lennox. His hands fisted at his sides and he felt his blood pressure skyrocket. Alive, with that bastard she’d worked for dead.
Tegan touched his shoulder, calm eyes catching Kanon’s. Easy. Yeah, he got that. Wouldn’t do if he sprouted a mane and two inch claws just yet. Might freak out the Hounds hiking behind them. It didn’t keep him from grinding his teeth at the effort it took not to snarl at the dog pacing ahead of them. Faster, damn it.
“How you two hanging in there?” Brandt called from behind them and Kanon turned to see the man watching them, wary, guarded. His hand hovered over the butt of his gun. Kanon pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t snarl.
“Fine,” Tegan said, but there was an under bite of a growl to the words that stiffened the muscles all the way down Kanon’s back.
“You don’t look fine.” Brandt shot them both a pointed look.
“We’re hanging then. Damn dog is taking forever.”
The Hound ahead didn’t even lift his head, but Brandt offered them a wry smile. “Merlowe is good at his job, damn good. Though if you think you could do better...” He gestured ahead. “Just don’t turn those fangs on me.”
Kanon shook his head. No. The lion was riding him hard enough as it was. Let the beast out and he was going to be lucky if he kept from gutting the group around him. As far as his cat was concerned, their pride was in danger and it was his job to keep them safe. Tegan swayed into him, a low rumble rousing deep from the other man. Their job to keep the pride safe.
Funny, he wanted nothing to do with their real pride back home, but Lennox... Somehow, she managed to count all the way down to the beast pacing inside him. “We’re fine.”
He just wasn’t sure how much longer that would be true. Patience wasn’t exactly a virtue known to lions. Brawn, brute strength, aggression—those were more his style. Passively walking after a dog while someone hunted down Lennox and he’d rather uproot a few trees. He increased his stride and gave a low huff of irritation.
Suddenly the dog ahead spun around, nose dipping towards the water, long ears flapping. Merlowe gave a surprised yip and spun back, bolting towards the rocky outcrop ahead of them. He rammed through a thick bush, a frantic bay bellowing from him. Roo-roo-roo!
Kanon fisted his hands at his sides, spearing claws into his flesh as he fought to keep the lion under his skin. The dog disappeared down into a gulch, pebbles sliding and Kanon broke into a run. Ignoring the scent of blood, the obvious signs of a struggle, he slipped down into the ravine after the dog, Tegan on his heels.
Kicking dirt up as he ran, Kanon scrabbled past boulders and short shrubs as he followed the now silent Hound deeper down the rocky embankment. A dried river bed from the looks of it. The rough earth was cracked, tree roots bending over the sides and burying deep along the small canyon walls.
“Stop protecting them!” a man bellowed, and the lion inside Kanon jumped, leaping to break free.
He stumbled, struggling for control. Red dotted the rocks, dull. Dry. Blood. Tegan slipped behind him, half-wild with the change. His black hair longer, his eyes not quite human, when his gaze slammed into Kanon.
A snarl ripped through the dim evening air, followed by a pained yelp. The fucking bastard. Kanon gave a shout, a roar shaking through him as the lion poured out of his skin. He stumbled once before large paws hit the ground in an even stride, barreling down the gulch. Merlowe whipped his head back and yelped, leaping up the side of the trail and clear of Kanon.
An answering roar thundered behind him, but there was no crack of a gunshot. No shouts from the Hounds behind them. No orders to hold back. Not that Kanon would have listened.
The fresh scent of blood and sweat filled his nose and he sprang onto a boulder, then onto the rocky slope leading out of the ravine. Gravel bit into his paws as he landed. The scuffle of a fight hit his ears just as he saw them, Lennox half crawling up the slope when Torres wrenched her back by her hair. A pained hiss slipped from her.
Her right arm hung limp at her side, but she fought him one handed, raking nails over his arms. She struggled against him and not for a second did she look like she was ready to give up. “You fool.”
He shoved Lennox back, sending her tumbling. One arm held out, she tried to catch herself, but the landing was all wrong. She’d snap a wrist or worse, falling head first back into the rocks below. Muscles tight, Kanon launched himself after her on a roar. He hit the ground in a crouch just as her small body slammed into his; she rolled over his back as her fingers found his mane. Her grip held. She was red with blood, soaked. Her river-drenched clothes cold against his fur. Tiny cuts crisscrossed her face, marring the edge of a blossoming bruise along her jaw.
Kanon whipped his head around and snarled at Torres, long fangs flashing in the dying light. Tegan thudded to the ground beside him and Torres let out a screech—turning he scrambled up the hill, shifting midstride. Not fast enough. Tegan lashed out, his claws catching in a rusty hindquarter and he jerked the dog back on a yelp.
Torres twisted under Tegan’s paw, jaws snapping, desperate. Like a puppy tossed into a fighting pit, he didn’t stand a chance. No more than a severely wounded Lennox had had against him. The bastard got what he deserved. Tegan reared back, raking claws down towards the thrashing Hound. There was another shimmer of magick, sluggish almost and Torres was human again. A gun flashed in his hand, darker than the shadows tossed off the rocks.
No.
Kanon plowed forward as the gun tilted upwards. In slow motion, Torres slipped a finger over the trigger, as Tegan’s claws raked through the air, unable to pull back as the gun aimed at the small space between his eyes. Lennox thudded against his side, holding on as Kanon snaked a paw behind Torres’s back and ripped a ribbon of red over the man’s spine, just as the gun cracked.
Tegan gave a low grunt, jerking under the snap of a bullet grazing his skin, ripping through thick mane and muscled flesh. Tegan sunk claws into Torres’s chest flung the bastard aside to land on the rocky embankment below, gun clattering to the ground beside him.
They waited, Lennox holding tight to his mane, her head pressed against his shoulder, exhausted. Kanon could feel the tremble in her muscles, her blood matting in his fur. Tegan stepped up around them, his massive head falling to touch her shoulder as he chuffed softly against her cheek. A line of crimson colored a strip of his mane from black to red.
Torres gave a shuddering breath, his eyes staring wide into the night sky above. He blinked, his mouth working as blood blossomed over his chest, staining his shirt from the inside out. Lennox dragged herself up, using Kanon as a perch and then she stumbled down to Torres’s side, sinking into the gravel rough ground beside him.
Torres took a deep shuddering breath, his eyelids beginning to flutter. “How could you?”
Lennox pressed her forehead against the man’s arm, his tan skin dark against the sickly, bloodless pale of hers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
With one hand she reached and took his, squeezing tight. “I’m sorry.”
Kanon stood over them, Tegan at his side as he watched Torres take another trembling breath, eyes wide as he faced the emptiness of a night sky, not alone...but with Lennox whispering her sorrow at his side. Another breath and Torres was gone. Her boss, her friend...and the man who’d almost killed her.
Watching her now, tears making her cheeks glisten in the pallid light coming off the moon, he felt the ache of Tristan’s death, Caro’s, Aiby’s. The four boys murdered on their way home from school. A Hound dead. So many dead, but Lennox stretched forward over Torres and laid a kiss against his forehead. “This was not the man you were.”
A soft sob sounded behind her and Kanon turned, a rough growl sounding in the night as both he and Tegan moved towards the approaching Hound. Bran
dt paused, catching Bree with one hand. The lion didn’t care that they were friends, they weren’t his pride. But Lennox leaned back, laying Torres’s hand on the ground and she reached for the pair of them. “It’s all right,” she called out softly. “Help me up.”
She grimaced, her lips so pale in the moonlight that Kanon couldn’t do anything except what she’d asked. He stepped closer, nudging the broad, blunt shape of his muzzle under her hand. She buried fingers in his mane and dragged herself up, Tegan nudging her from behind. She shivered between them and started to stumble, but Tegan was suddenly behind her, his arms wrapped around her body.
Human again, he pressed the side of his face against hers, and Kanon shifted to join them, pulling them both gently against his chest. She needed help. Medics. But before he could even get the command out, Brandt was radioing in their coordinates.
“I’m sorry,” Lennox said softly and Kanon turned to see her looking at Bree, the woman kneeling by the body of her husband. Bree shook her head, grief trailing tears down her cheeks.
“No. You were right. This was not the man he was. I’m just sorry I didn’t see this sooner.”
Lennox squeezed her eyes shut briefly. “Me too.”
Bree leaned over her husband, long red hair falling to hide her face, splaying over the blood spilling through his shirt. Her soft, quiet sobs the only mention of her grief. Lennox laid her head back against Tegan’s shoulder, her one good hand finding Kanon’s. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For?”
The barest hint of a smile touched her face, fond. “Saving me.”
Kanon smiled back, leaning forward to brush a kiss across her forehead as Tegan lay one against her temple. “We’re even.”
Her chin dipped in a small nod before she passed out in Tegan’s arms. Kanon simply kissed her again, his gaze locked on his partner’s. “Just don’t leave us.”