by Cecilia Lane
Mara took the clothes he offered her with a single arched eyebrow and a graceful flaring of her nostrils. His next inhale brought her own dampened scent through his system. Kitty wanted to judge, but she felt lust just as much.
Not saying a word, she dressed and continued sorting through the papers scattered over the desk and floor. Hudson righted a chair and tested the uneven legs before scooting it in her direction. She gave him a tight smile in return and went back to sorting through the remainders of the hunter operation.
A trash bag near the door and tied with a knot held more loose papers and a couple binders that tried to poke through the plastic. Hudson stacked those neatly at Mara’s elbow.
All the destruction pointed to an attempt at sanitization. Records didn’t just end up in bags by the door by accident. If he was a betting man, he’d put his money on the feral shifter either being left for dead or the last one to be moved. The dead guard probably got too close to the cage before he grabbed his last bag to be removed. Ronnie was up to some shit if she was bagging up evidence and disappearing with her captives.
Mara stiffened and Hudson immediately focused his attention on his mate. She turned another page, then one more, her frown deepening with each word she read. Cold fury swirled in the air around her.
“I can almost respect the ones that want to kill us outright. It’s honest, if wrongheaded. They look at us like a botanist views an invasive vine. We need to be burned out to keep the rest of the world healthy. But this,” she made a disgusted sound, “this is a whole other cruelty.”
She shoved the ledger at him. A quick scan of the page showed him lot numbers and mostly single digit numbers listed next to the generic description of ‘puppy.’ The margin of one page held an address and a date circled with pen.
“What am I reading?”
“Puppies.” She made the noise again, like something was caught in the back of her throat. “These are children. They’re going to auction off shifter kids.”
“Motherfucker.” His hands tightened into fists. His bear roared and raged. He wanted to direct his anger right into the faces of anyone who could hurt a child, but no convenient target was present.
Cubs. Innocent children. Hunters were awful enough with making violent slaves out of shifters or any other supe they could find. But kids, too? Fuck.
Fuck!
“How? Where?”
Her hands balled into fists. “Maybe taken with families, like Joy and Jack. Maybe just taken like Kerry.”
“We have to get this to Judah.”
“And in the meantime?” She flicked a hand over the pages. “They’ll be sentenced to a life of servitude, chains, and abuse. The lucky ones will die quickly as bait in the ring to get a feral shifter mad on blood. This is disgusting, even by Ronnie’s standards.”
Amber ate at the blue of her eyes. Baked dirt and fur coated her angry scent. She was as close to a shift as he felt.
Kerry was in their grasp. He’d made a promise to Axel to find that little girl. He’d come up empty so far. He wouldn’t fail the man completely.
A shadow passed over her face. She ducked her eyed to hide it, but the unease was plain. “I’ve been to an auction before. No children that I saw, but it was just as heinous.”
He couldn’t let those children live out their lives—however short they might be—under the harsh hands of hunters. But if he went down the route he considered, it meant putting Mara in danger. He didn’t want to lead anyone into battle and lose another life. The pain would ruin him, and the loss of his mate especially would drive him as crazed as the one he put down.
There was no easy or sure thing in life. Mates? Broken and battered even before they met. Raising a child? She could be torn from your arms and used as leverage.
“You want me to fight?” she continued. “Fine. With every last breath I have. We live in a dark fucking world full of danger. I want to rage and scream and tear into every last piece of shit hunter. I don’t have room for anything else. I don’t know how to feel anything else. They broke something inside me when they killed Matthew.”
Mara watched him pace back and forth. The same stubborn look was there as when she wormed her way onto this damned mission. He could say no and let someone else handle the mess, but she’d find a way to dive headfirst into danger anyway.
That was the blessing and the curse of a mate with a titanium core. She might not have it all shined up or believe it existed, but she wouldn’t let something silly like the threat of death get in her way.
They could make it, if he wasn’t entirely lost. The rich fucks in Napa Valley weren’t terribly far away.
Hudson nodded sharply. “Walk me through it.”
Chapter 13
Mara tugged down the hem of her short dress. The black leather clung to her skin uncomfortably. Every hunter at the auction would know she was a fraud the moment they spotted her.
The outfit was a copy of one she’d seen when Ronnie dragged her around like a trained dog. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with one of those fashionable bumps right at the top of her head. The heels on her feet didn’t take more than a few minutes of practice before she found her footing again, but the ribbons twisting around her calves were a new addition. She hadn’t needed decoration when she managed Matthew; those heels had been sharp to drive home the points she made into the foot of someone trying to rip her off.
“You okay in there?” Hudson rumbled on the other side of the door.
“Just a minute!”
Butterflies took flight in Mara’s stomach. She tugged the hem again. Balls. The entire thing was too damn short, but if she tugged it lower her boobs threatened to spill over the top. There was no winning.
Her lioness whined and Mara pressed her lips together. She was killing time before she had to face her pet for the night. The big bear out in the motel room would be stripped down to tight briefs, collared, and leashed. By the Broken, that felt easier than the clinging, too short, too low contraption she found herself inside.
Mara took one last look in the mirror, straightened her shoulders, and exited the bathroom. The back of her neck prickled the moment the door inched open. Her cheeks burned, and her body matched the flush in the handful of steps she took to the small table.
She propped her foot on the chair and shoved a small knife into the heel. They’d be searched before passing through the doors, and neither wore anything able to conceal weapons. Going in empty handed felt like suicide. Even the tiny blade was better than nothing.
When she straightened, she found Hudson raking his eyes over her body. Mara swallowed hard and ignored his bare chest and tattoos and thick arms and boring eyes. His approval wasn’t what she wanted. They had cubs to rescue. What he liked or disliked about her appearance wasn’t of any concern.
The heat that whipped through her said something entirely different. So did the damn ridiculous lioness under her skin practically yowling for the man.
Dammit, why did he have to look so good? It was… distracting.
“We need to get going,” she said. The words sounded too thin.
He was on his feet in a second, and his arms around her waist a breath later. “You look nice,” he mouthed against her shoulder.
Another wave of butterflies assaulted her ability to stand or form a coherent thought. Her fingers twitched to push the big man back on the bed.
No time. Not the place. Bigger fish to fry.
“I feel ridiculous,” she admitted.
“You feel ridiculous? I’m the one likely to never find his junk again.”
Mara doubted that. She could definitely feel every inch of him pressing against her. His fingers digging into her hips were nice, too. Steadying.
“This is a dangerous place we’re going.” There was the focus she needed. To think of children forced to watch familiar faces taken away, or experience the horrors she’d been through killed the surge of hormones trying to explode her ovaries.
He caught her chin
between his fingers and lifted her face. Dark brown eyes shot with pure silver searched her expression. “You don’t need to do this. We can find another way.”
“And how many cubs will be scattered by then?” She shook her head. She wasn’t weak or afraid, and she wouldn’t lose herself like she had back at the last camp. “No. We’re doing this. We’re going in, freeing them, and taking out any of those motherfuckers that get in our way.”
A growl rumbled in his chest. A murderous grin hitched up his lips. “Let’s fuck their shit up, kitty.”
Light filtered out of the windows and open double doors of the mansion. Mara exchanged a look with Hudson and mounted the steps with the rest of the arriving crowd. Her throat itched with the thick perfume and cologne dousing their party of two as well as the other guests. No one wanted to be identified at a later date by a pet shifter, so scents and faces were covered.
Something lighter danced among the drench of floral and woodsy notes. Almost as soon as she caught it, the odor of magic disappeared. “Did you smell that?” she asked Hudson softly.
“Fae.”
Vampires and fae weren’t unheard of possessions for hunters, but shifters were the most common. Mara hadn’t ever seen one in Ronnie’s collections, but that didn’t mean a thing. One had been used to pass along a message, then attacked her when Mara demanded more answers. She never had solid proof the fae worked for Ronnie.
Past security and inside, humans mingled with one another. Some had leashed shifters trailing behind them while others simply eyed the goods. Collared men and women moved between the clumps of people and offered drinks from trays without lifting their attention from the floor.
Mara looped Hudson’s leash around her wrist and took a flute of champagne from a passing tray to hide her disgust and her inspection. Most guests were dressed in their finest, and even those who weren’t about to be invited to a cocktail party wore their nicest jeans.
The gathering was a strange intersection of high-class power and backwoods danger. Each human wanted a piece of the supernatural pie to unleash their individual brand of misery.
“At least you can take the edge off in this place,” Hudson muttered.
Mara trailed a finger down his jaw. A shiver ran through him. “I could get you a dog bowl?”
“Cute,” he said when they started moving again. She led them between clumps of people and circled the main room. “I count ten possible exits.”
“Windows, if we’re in a pinch.”
“Ideally not. Don’t want to get blood all over Mistress’ dress,” he snarked.
“That’s what black is for,” she teased back.
She exchanged her empty drink for another to give her something to toy with as she walked. Another round of the room didn’t reveal Ronnie, though she doubted the woman would participate with the prospective buyers until the auction began. The number of guards flowing in and out of one particular corridor gave her some idea of where they needed to go.
“She’s moving up in the world. More people here than last time,” she commented.
“Well, when you have fuck you money and an entirely new population to screw over… Easier to hunt something exotic here than get a trophy in Africa,” he answered. The gravel in his voice wasn’t a good sign and made her lioness jumpy.
Mara paused at a gigantic piece of artwork halfway across the room to get a better look at the comings and goings. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and her lioness listened and sniffed everything. Nothing could ease the discomfort of being in such a hideous place. No amount of fancy window dressing changed the brutality of the group.
“We’re getting a lot of attention,” Hudson murmured.
“It’s you they’re staring at.” Possessiveness gripped her and she let her eyes wander over his chest. He stirred the hearts and scents of many women they passed, and a few of the men.
Her lioness wanted to sink her claws and fangs into the man and show everyone he was off limits.
Mara checked the surge of desire just as a man dressed in a solid black suit with a riding crop dangling at his side approached. He eyed the painting with a dismissive glance, then rounded on her.
“Have we met before?” he asked in a clipped accent. “I could swear I’ve seen those luscious curves before. Please tell me they’ve been wrapped around my waist.”
Mara nearly choked on her drink. A dangerous light entered Hudson’s eyes, and she shot him a silent warning. “I make it a rule not to socialize with the other guests.”
“I suppose it’s good that I’m not another guest.” He took her hand and leaned over it to plant a kiss on her skin. “This is my home and you’re welcome to tour any part of it.”
Mara’s skin crawled at the infusion of innuendo in his words. She wondered if the line actually worked on anyone, or if they allowed themselves to be led around by the smell of money. But, an offered tour might get them behind the scenes without raising any suspicion.
She lifted her chin and stared him straight in the eyes. “Any part? I’d love to see how you secure the animals and protect your other guests.”
“Ah, cherie, you cut me to the core. I would never endanger such a beautiful woman.”
Hudson shifted next to her. She wanted to reach out and press her palm against his arm to soothe him. She couldn’t and still keep up the pretense of an interested party.
“Let’s get out of here. The auction won’t start for another hour. I’m sure we could find a way to pass the time.” He leaned down and grabbed a handful of her ass the same moment his teeth closed over her earlobe.
Her lioness welled up inside her so hard and fast that Mara expected fur to sprout on her arms and legs. Hers wasn’t the reaction that drew any attention.
Hudson growled and jerked her away from the man, putting himself between them. “Keep your hands off her.”
The crowd around them froze.
Shit.
“Your pet needs to learn his manners,” the man snapped. He fingered the riding crop at his waist and glared at Hudson.
Hudson’s growl didn’t stop.
Too many eyes watched them. They were in danger of blowing their cover.
Mara yanked on the leash and planted her toe in the crease of Hudson’s knee. He went down to the ground with a grunt.
She added an extra sway to her hips as she walked to his front. A number of eyes switched from him to her. Small blessings.
Hudson’s growl finally quieted, but his eyes seethed with unsuppressed, possessive anger.
Not the fucking time.
Mara shifted her eyes to the man that touched her. Her stomach soured at the thought of going anywhere with him. Her lioness echoed the sentiment, but for another reason entirely. Hudson was the only one allowed to touch her.
“Forgive him,” she said loudly. “I indulge him too much. You know how it is with a favorite pet.”
“Then let me teach him a lesson,” the man offered and pulled the crop from his belt.
Hell no. Mara snatched the crop from his hands before he could hurt Hudson. All eyes were still on her, though. Some punishment was expected, even for her favorite. Danger lurked all around them and safety resided in playing a convincing role.
She whipped the crop against Hudson’s skin, leaving a red mark on his chest. He bared his teeth at her, eyes rolling closed. Desperate hunger colored them when he opened to her again.
“You will obey, or I’ll sell your worthless carcass to the highest bidder, pet,” she crooned at him.
Nearby, two women tittered behind their hands. One raised a finger and bat her eyelashes at Hudson. Mara’s lioness wanted to rip her throat out. Hudson belonged to them.
“How much will you take for him right this moment? I’ll give you my first born for even a night with this fine specimen.”
“Like that runt would be worth the price,” Mara scoffed.
She ran her fingers down the mark she’d left. Hudson’s eyes didn’t leave her face. Heat crawled u
p her hands and wrist and arm, and settled in her spine. The longer she let her fingers linger on his skin, the more warmth flooded her system.
Seeing him on his knees and ready to take whatever she dished out empowered her in a way she didn’t think possible. Mara didn’t know what to do with the newfound authority she wielded. She felt damn good. Better than she had in ages.
Under it all, her cat wanted to purr. Hudson drew out her inner lioness at every turn. Maybe there was something to the constant demand to be near the man. He was powerful and strong and she wanted to make sure he knew he belonged to her. None of the women desperate for a taste would hold him for long. She was the only one that could handle him.
“You know what they say, a hard man is good to find.” The same women tittered again, while the man she stole the crop from glowered. Too damn bad. He wasn’t her type, even if he wasn’t an asshole trafficking in shifters.
“I live to serve,” Hudson voiced. The low gravel of his words stroked Mara and his eyes promised so much more.
“And serve he does. On his knees. On his back. Wherever and whatever my appetite requires.” She couldn’t break their gaze if her life depended on it. The tiny, minuscule nod he gave in an unspoken promise tightened her core.
“Aren’t you afraid of what he could do to you?”
“A properly trained pet is no more dangerous than your favorite toy with a fresh set of batteries.” She lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “And doesn’t that hint of danger make it all the more delicious?”
Hunger flared in Hudson’s eyes. A shiver rolled through Mara in response. Holy hell, the hold he had over her dared her further and further across lines she didn’t know existed inside herself.
She liked being in charge, but this was a whole new level. She wanted to keep pushing at him and see when he’d break from his fake submission. From the swirling silver of his eyes, not much longer.