by S. E. Smith
Hunter shrugged and clicked his teeth. “Komm.”
Bogan obediently followed him into the back kitchen. Hunter pulled out a dish and filled it with a broken protein bar. After studying the grainy bits, the food disappeared in a gulp. Brown eyes shot to Hunter, and Narelle held her breath as Hunter added several more pieces.
“Every K9 is different. Most bonded easily, but from what I’ve seen in his memory banks, Bogan only made it because of Joseph Donner. That’s the soldier who died on their last assignment together.”
Staring at the dog as he daintily nibbled on the food left Narelle at a loss. “But you can help him, right?”
“A lot doesn’t add up.” Hunter shook his head, then went back to filling a bowl with water and setting it next to Bogan.
“What do you mean?” Narelle pressed.
Hunter spared her a glance and grasped the back of his neck with another of those telling sighs. “Even injured and without his handler, K9-15 shouldn’t have come near you or let you near him. It’s not in the training.”
“Maybe he went against his training.”
Remorse and a heavy dose of anger formed Hunter’s frown. “It’s best for all if you contact the government and return him, Narelle.”
He kept pushing for what she knew was the right step but something Narelle couldn’t put her finger on held her back. Why did she feel this strong affinity for the dog? She’d never had a pet or a desire to own one. “I can’t, Hunter. Don’t ask me to do that yet.”
Broad fingers jammed through the waves of his hair as he pursed his lips. “You do realize the possibility of it…him surviving is slim? Look at him, Narelle. There’s the very real danger to anyone if he decides to attack. He’s a highly-trained asset. War mongrels weren’t meant to last without their handlers. I should know.”
The last statement was telling as was the brief glimpse of grief twisting his features. “What does that mean?”
“It means unless he can sync to another handler, he’s going to die anyway.”
Brutal, hard, honest truth. She expected no less from this man who teased and enticed with a single glance. “What if you sync with him?”
No hiding his obvious distaste. “No.”
Narelle occupied her hands by shuffling the container of packaged protein bars on the counter. Anything to keep from touching Hunter to ease his pain as she wanted. “But you have experience. You seem to know about this handler stuff. With your adjustments, couldn’t you do it?”
“I’m not in the military any more for a reason.”
Hunter’s rough growl rasped against her senses. Hiding her renewed desire, Narelle studied his expression. There was more he wasn’t telling. Secrets. Hunter Gils was a man of many secrets. But then so was she. Anyone who came to this off the track location came because they needed a place to hide. A place where no one questioned.
Letting the matter drop was the right thing to do. Contacting the government to get their property was the appropriate step to take. Yet, Narelle hesitated. Hunter knew a lot more than he was letting on. Following instinct, she asked, “You were in the WIRED program, weren’t you?”
His head snapped up. “Whether I was or not is secured classified information. My role in the military during the Vargos war is top secret.”
“That a yes?” It seemed natural to push. “Sounds like a yes.”
His brows pinched deeper, and a snarl rattled. “Don’t go there, Narelle.”
She ignored the warning even as her breasts swelled in the face of his demand. “I’m only asking because you can help him. I know it.”
As if a switch flipped, Hunter’s demeanor changed. Anger dissipated and something else took its place. The lines of his shoulders eased. He shifted the weight of his hips, the cocky stance drawing her gaze down to note his prominent arousal against the cloth of the black cargo pants.
When she found the energy to bring her eyes back up, wicked glee and pure seduction stared back at her. “I’ll try. For a price.”
“A price? What price?” She stiffened and backed up a step. She knew exactly what he wanted.
Hunter took a step forward, negating the attempt at distance. “One night.”
Narelle’s heart pounded. Licking her lips, she repeated his words “One night? For what?”
Pinning her to the wall with his body, his rough palm cupped her cheek. “It ends now. No more games. You know what I want in exchange.”
Shivers worked their way through her body. Tendrils of desire awakened and coiled around her lower half. She tried to speak and had to clear her throat twice. “Are you really so desperate you’d bargain for a night to get me in bed?”
“Yes.” Simple and ruthless. No remorse in the blunt tone he used. “You have no idea how desperate I am to crawl between your thighs and see if you’re as hot on the inside as you are on the outside.”
“Pathetic, Hunter. You’re pathetic.” But her voice thickened. “What makes you think I want to sleep with you?”
His lips twitched. “Oh, we wouldn’t be sleeping.”
Need burned a path of arousal straight from her nipples to the place between her thighs. Narelle jerked her face away from his tender touch. She wanted him but if she slept with Hunter how would she resist him in the future? Without a doubt sex with him would be like no other. He possessed the ability to shred her heart if given the chance.
She swallowed and forced the answer past dry lips. “No. I’m not sleeping with you.”
His hand dropped and Narelle immediately missed the contact. He shrugged broad shoulders and moved away, freeing her from the press of his hard body. “Fine. I’ll contact the authorities and make arrangements for them to pick up K9-15.”
“Bastard,” she spat, out of control and stepped to the side. Far enough away to control the urge to strike out physically. To hurt him for forcing her into this position.
All traces of humor washed from his face. “Bastard? No, not a bastard, but I am a man tired of the chase. Give me what I want, Narelle, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
His head tipped to the side. “I know exactly what you want because it mirrors my own dreams. I want to drown in the scent of you. I want your soft skin beneath my hands no matter how rough they are. I want to stroke deep into the heart of you as you clench around me with the hunger we both have for one another. Deny it if you must but I know, Narelle. I see it in your eyes every time you refuse me.”
“I’m not falling for you baiting me.”
Hunter leaned close, but Narelle refused to give ground again. Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Coward.”
The whisper wafted across her cheek, and her insides clenched. Damn him. Damn him for knowing exactly what he did to her.
“I’m not a coward.”
His lips quirked. “Then ask for what you want, and I promise to give it to you.”
Demand and pleasure all wrapped into one sensuous statement. She could have him, touch him. Narelle balled her fists and stood tall. “You’ll help the war mongrel, Bogan?”
An abrupt nod as he folded his arms across his chest.
She’d like to knock the smug grin from his face. “Agreed.”
His brown gaze smoldered. “Tell me. I need to hear what you’re agreeing to.”
“One night, Hunter. You and I. In exchange, you’ll try to sync with Bogan.”
Too easy. Hunter couldn’t believe he’d gotten her to give in. Fine trembles ran through him. Finally. At last he had a means of finally getting what he wanted from Narelle. He’d have her in his bed and all it entailed.
Bogan shifted about, reminding him of his presence. Hunter didn’t want to do this. No, he really didn’t want to do this. Helping Narelle and the war mongrel would open wounds long ago healed. It also meant revealing more of himself than he wanted to. None of that would stop him from this course of action though.
“But you sync with Bogan first. If it doesn’t work, I owe you n
othing.”
He grunted. Always planning a way out. “Agreed. If the war mongrel rejects me, I won’t hold you to our bargain.”
There was a very real chance of that anyway. Tension eased from her shoulders and Hunter suffered a moment of regret for his methods but quickly squashed it. They both wanted this. He’d merely provided Narelle a way of accepting which allowed her to still deny she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. If this didn’t work, he’d find another means of getting her in his bed.
Hunter turned toward the war mongrel, who lay stretched out on the floor, head planted on his front paws. Hunter crouched and made sure to establish eye contact. He signaled with his hand and used the verbal commands all soldiers in the special unit had been taught. “Komm.”
Bogan perked to attention, trotted over to Hunter and sat. Hunter took a deep breath. “Ofen.”
The slot by his ear opened again with a snick. Hunter rubbed at his inner wrist activating the pad. A press of his thumb, and the probe slid out. If this worked he’d once more be connected to a war mongrel. Something Hunter had avoided after the loss of his partner during the last mission he’d undertaken with his team.
Against his will, memories blasted forward. As lead, Hunter and his war mongrel Riktor entered the structure first to scout. The animal saved Hunter by ignoring a direct command for the first time ever and pushed Hunter far enough away to protect him from most of the blast. The rest of Hunter’s team hadn’t been so fortunate. They’d all died, leaving Hunter to walk away with massive scarring, a bad knee and malfunctioning adjustments. The list of injuries he’d sustained would have been enough to shake any soldier. Knowing everyone in his unit died created a wound that would never heal. Losing K9-03 ripped him to pieces and ruined any thought of going back to the lines.
As the sole survivor, Hunter’s superiors reviewed the incident over and over before clearing him of any wrongdoing. He received his discharge at the same time the Vargos were defeated thanks to that last battle. Sure, he, Riktor and the team were listed as responsible for turning the tide during the war, but the cost had been high. Too high.
“Hunter, is everything okay?”
Narelle’s softly voiced question dispelled the memories of the past. Hunter shook his head to clear it. “Fine.”
She winced, and he wished he could take back the rough bite in his tone. Instead he focused on Bogan. There’d be time later to woo her with sweet words. He inserted the probe, and the initial jolt after such a long time shocked his system. The biotronics from his adjustments were powerful. Unlike earlier when he accessed the surface memories, Hunter needed to allow Bogan to connect with him on an intimate level to create the reciprocal feedback necessary for a successful sync.
With the war mongrel’s history of unsuccessful matches this would be difficult. On his side, Hunter was counting on his heritage as Lomanis to aid him. Closing his eyes, he relaxed his guard and opened himself.
It didn’t take long. He sensed the moment the biotronics in Bogan made contact with his. Another jolt followed by resistance on the war mongrel’s part and a low whine.
“Gott, biet rel,” Hunter soothed as he opened his eyes. Good war mongrel. “Gemfach.” Easy.
Hunter needed to get through the animal’s natural barrier to accepting another. As he expected, his own reluctance to bond again in this manner worked against him as well. Another whine from Bogan as if craving the contact but afraid.
“Gemfach,” Hunter repeated running a hand over the bristling hair on his back. The short strands needed a good washing and a brushing. Something the sync would automatically take care of. “Gemfach.”
His tone came through, and Bogan held still, every muscle quivering. Part of the block keeping the sync from taking place cracked. The well of emotions from the animal bombarded Hunter until he gritted his teeth against the onslaught. Grief, fear, anger and confusion. The loss of Donner had hit Bogan hard. During the mental surge, Hunter caught the handler’s death in a series of slide images from the war mongrel’s perspective.
Whatever assignment the two had been on ended with Donner’s death and Bogan returning to the pick-up zone as trained. But not before he’d dragged the young’s man body for hours attempting to bring him back. Hunter’s throat locked. Riktor would have done the same for him in a similar situation. What the military failed to grasp was that syncing between a war mongrel and the soldier handler was more than computer programming and training.
Trust, love and an unshakeable bond grew. One would think the extensive testing would have revealed this. Or maybe it had and the government didn’t care because the Vargos war meant more than worrying about a small elected group.
At some point Bogan realized the futility of his efforts and reluctantly left his partner behind. No one arrived to retrieve him. Days passed until hunger and fear drove Bogan in search of contact with another. How he ended up here was unclear. Static and breaks in Bogan’s recording mechanism prevented Hunter from seeing those details. Probably due to the war mongrel’s waning condition.
The next footage showed Narelle crouching beside the animal and then their trek to The Zone. Hunter swallowed, hesitating about the next step. If it worked, it would be irreversible. He’d be permanently linked again to a partner and all the potential pain which came along with it.
Hunter firmed his voice. “Trijl, Bogan.” Sync.
Despite what he expected, the connection slammed into Hunter with the force of a fighter jet. Stomach dropping, he staggered to one knee. Narelle gasped behind him. Bogan rose to his haunches and snapped in her direction.
“Zut, Bogan. Haltzo.” Hunter tightened his free hand on the war mongrel’s ruff, keeping him from lunging for the woman behind him.
Bogan strained against Hunter’s hold. His brown eyes rolled, gaze darting around. If Bogan hurt Narelle, even accidentally in his panicked state, Hunter wouldn’t hesitate to shut him down with a pulse from the probe joining them.
After a warning growl, he settled and Hunter heaved a sigh of relief. He cut his gaze to Narelle. “Don’t fucking move again!”
She glared.
“I mean it, Narelle. You asked for this.”
“Forgive me for being concerned.”
Due to his own anger her sharp voiced words almost passed him by. Then it hit him what she’d revealed. A slow smile curled his lips. “Forgiven, sweetheart.”
She huffed and tipped her chin up. Hunter chuckled, but his laughter was interrupted by a wet tongue licking his hand. Right. He straightened, eyeing the wrist with the open panel and the probe inserted into the jack output on the side of Bogan’s head.
“Let’s try this again.” After a warning glance at Narelle, Hunter turned Bogan’s muzzle in his direction and used the same order from earlier. “Las. Trijl.”
Bogan tried. Hunter sensed the effort on the war mongrel’s behalf, but they hadn’t been paired together, likely weren’t a good match in any way. Eyes narrowed, Hunter relied on what he’d learned from his time with Riktor and pushed harder for the sync. His Lomanis genetics responded.
Burning at his temple signaled his eyes going black. In place of the walls and floor of his kitchen, code displayed over his vision. His brain translated the information at a pace no one could consciously track yet Hunter had instant understanding. The data download allowed him to see what he needed to accomplish the sync.
With meticulous care, Hunter layered his biotronics over the ones left behind from John Donner. A quiver ran down the spine of the war mongrel. He continued to rub his left hand over Bogan’s fur. Then the shift occurred. Bogan’s body filled out beneath his fingertips, bulk forming in place of his scrawny frame. Adjustments accounted for the change now that Hunter had jumpstarted them.
Hunter frowned, his concentration increasing. One more thing. Bogan started to shake, excitement overruling Hunter’s orders. Almost there. Another burst of energy on Hunter’s part.
Sync.
Perfect fucking sync.
>
Basic commands scrolled across Hunter’s left eye adjustment. Commands he already knew by heart from being in the WIRED program. He and Bogan were in sync. Hunter stood up, a wave of dizziness rolling through him. Movement from the corner of his eye had him holding up a warning hand to Narelle. Her lips firmed and an odd spurt of humor prodded. She didn’t listen for shit.
“Did it work?” she asked.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat to relieve the dryness. As the disorientation from bonding with the war mongrel wore off, Hunter drew a deep breath. He faced Narelle, unconcerned about how he looked. This was what he’d waited for. He didn’t care he’d had to play dirty to get it. “Now I’ve met my end of the bargain, where were we?”
Five
Narelle wanted to curse as she followed Hunter into his apartment above The Zone. Bogan trotted behind them, the change in his appearance and demeanor still amazing to her. His tail wagged from side to side, his shoulder brushing Hunter’s leg with each step. Gone was the gaunt body and malnourished look. Instead, a robust large dog stood in its place, tan hair smoothed down as if he’d been bathed and brushed.
As Hunter opened the door, Bogan shot ahead through the crack. Nose to the floor, he went from one corner to another.
“Gemfach. Komm.” Hunter tapped his upper thigh and Bogan returned to his side, tongue lolling in an obvious sign of happiness. Hunter scratched the pointed ears. “Gott, biet rel.”
Curiosity got the best of her despite the nerves of being in Hunter’s private space. “What language is that? The translator keeps giving the foreign words.”
“There wouldn’t be a translation. Most of the genetic coding to create the war mongrels came from security trained dogs on a planet called Earth. Doctors and scientists thought it wise to customize the commands using a mix of several languages from the same planet. Only soldiers in the program and the war mongrels would understand them.”
“Huh.” Narelle pushed the tips of her fingers into the front slit pockets of her jumpsuit. She didn’t want Hunter to note her need to fidget. “Why’d he run around your place?”