by KH LeMoyne
She blinked.
“That work for you?”
Another charge blew cages at the far edge of the tunnel into the air, close enough that the ground surged beneath them, and he and Hazel landed inches from where they were seconds ago. Shit. Did they even have twenty seconds? No. He was grabbing her and risking the fallout, literally. The pain he caused her by grabbing and moving her would surely be better than death. How he’d get her up the stairwell with her flashing in and out of shifting was another issue.
But as the next pressure wave hit his eardrums, signaling a detonation, Hazel held her arms up to him. He grabbed her against his chest and spun toward freedom.
No cougar could ever beat his time over the distance down the tunnel to the ladder.
With her arms in a stranglehold around his neck, Hazel held to him as he vaulted one-handed up the rungs. Bits of concrete and steel shavings gouged the backs of his legs as another part of the the cave exploded behind them. “Cut it a little close there, but good girl. You’re going to be a fierce rabbit when you grow up.”
Energy shoved him toward the opening. Claws sprang from his fingertips digging into the ladder. What the hell? Did I just partial shift again?
Escape and get the girl to safety. That was all that mattered, along with keeping her in his arms. She had no ability to clutch him with her rabbit feet, and her hands might be gripping him with everything she had, but she wouldn’t be able to hold tight enough to withstand the next detonation as it took out the tunnel.
Skeptically eyeing the remaining ten feet but emboldened by his extra energy, he punched his boots against the rung and stretched toward the opening in the floor of the trailer. His claws rasped over metal and then dirt as he grazed the floor and lost his grip. As he started to backslide, hands latched on to his wrist and jerked him out of the hole.
Breslin landed on his side with Hazel tucked against him. Quinn and Elijah stood feet from the opening. He cringed as a loud whoosh of energy rippled along his skin, dazing him and knocking the others to the ground. Quinn shot to his feet first, and with Elijah’s help, hauled Breslin out of the trailer and several yards away a moment before a bright flash of light shot from the hole and the trailer exploded.
Seconds separated that and their mad dash toward the field. Huge divots in the grasses reflected where the charges below had exploded. Still wary of landmines, he followed Quinn’s lead. Whoever had planted the charges didn’t just want the lab concealed, they’d intended the trailers to go up in flames and fall into a crater in nothing more than cinders, with the ruins of the lab, indistinguishable from the dirt.
They paused for breath a quarter of a mile from the trailer, where Nathan and the other children waited.
But what froze Breslin in his tracks wasn’t the huddled group of wide-eyed children, drooping from exhaustion and hunger.
He turned to the east and inhaled. Smoke and ash rode the breeze. The wildfire previously heading south when they’d arrived had now altered course, flanking them and blocking several of their exits.
“Get the children and Nathan to the pickup point.”
Despite his order, Quinn fell in beside him. Breslin motioned back toward the teenager, who also looked ready to disobey him. “Both of you get to the vehicle and signal Brindy.”
“You think we can’t smell the stink of enforcers coming?” Quinn moved in front of him, eye to eye. Only Hazel’s soft whine affected the coyote shifter enough that he shrugged off his combativeness and stepped back, his hands up. “It won’t take much to destroy them if all of us help.”
At least three enforcers if the scent of wolf, bear, and wolverine Breslin detected was all of them. He pointed toward the direction Aubrey waited with the vehicle, adding more command to his voice.
“I’ll take care of them. You and Elijah stay focused on the mission and get the kids to cover. They’ve had one bad experience. Don’t make them survive another.” He turned on Nathan. “Rayven needs you at her tribunal. If anything stops you, she’ll pay. Go. I’ll take care of the enforcers.”
As he adjusted his hold on Hazel to hand her over to Nathan, the child screamed. That alone he could have handled. Her life was worth him recovering from hearing loss. But fur sprouted over her arms. She clutched at his shirt with one hand and hit him in the chest with his phone with her other.
“She can’t take that.” Nathan lunged forward, pushing her back into Breslin’s arms. He spoke more softly. “That Rebel woman joked that if she changed again, she’d never come back.”
Well, hell. Taking on three enforcers in a wildfire wasn’t a cakewalk, even with his abilities. He lifted the child to face level. “Hazel. I can’t do my job and hold on to you.”
Lips pursed in a mutinous expression, she waved his phone like it was some sort of explanation. Which he supposed to her it was. He’d promised not to leave her. What was it with little kids and the inability to see shades of gray in a promise? He was tempted to fling her toward Elijah and make a run for the fight. Yet she trembled with fear in his hands and her pain buffeted against him in erratic spikes, and he didn’t dare press her. He’d been in her place once with no one to trust. He couldn’t do that to her. It might be a bumpy ride, but he wasn’t about to let her spiral now. “Fine. We’ll meet you at the pickup site.”
Nathan edged closer, even as Quinn gripped the back of his shirt. “How are you going to find us?”
Breslin spun away, tucking Hazel against his chest. “I’ll figure something out. Just make it to your contact.”
Deacon noted the determined set to his wife’s shoulders and resigned himself to losing this battle. Mated only recently, he nonetheless knew Lena’s mind in a way he knew would never grow old.
Today, however, she stretched his patience. He wanted only the best for her, which in his mind equated with safety.
“We are not going to have a discussion where you treat me like I’m a precious snowflake, are we?” Lena leaned back against his desk, gripping the edge as she delivered a stare meant to make him retreat.
“You shot a man in midshift. Between the eyes. Over my shoulder.” Deacon tried not to laugh. “I would be the last man on earth to take your skills for granted. However it’s instinctual for me not to enjoy watching you rush off into potential danger.”
“Hardly danger. I’ll be in the plane with Brindy most of the time. Besides, if there are other children in this lab besides Nathan, or if Breslin encounters some problem, one of us should be there. And your place is here helping Rayven prepare.”
“I’m fairly certain she would appreciate your presence too. You both seem to get along well.”
She tilted her head. “I get along with most people. I think the fact that your intelligent and bristly former second-in-command now works for me is a good indication of my social skills.”
He rubbed a hand across his eyes and sighed. “Yes, I’ll admit wooing Trim to your side was a sign of acceptance no one would dare dispute. But I’m not sure running off to the Karndottir territory is needed.”
“I’m used to tactical command. I also have emergency rescue medical training.”
“You’re not helping your case here, you know,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers.
“I’m also your female alpha. You’ve accepted the role as moderator and Rayven’s advocate for the tribunal; therefore, I’m stepping in to make the final decisions in case our team needs help elsewhere. Besides, I have your clout if Breslin’s situation gets out of control.”
He winced, hating that she was correct and logical. He didn’t want her having to use her former skills, but she had been damn good at her job. He could no more shove her into a safe box than he could give up his role as alpha and walk away from his people. He pulled her against him, clasping his hands around her waist. “Should I be concerned with the fact you’re so eager to put your life on the line here?”
“Admit it. If I were anyone else on your team, you wouldn’t give my going a second thought.”
“I’m not in love with any of the others,” he admitted ruefully.
She brushed a kiss over his jaw. “I won’t take unnecessary chances. I promise.”
He couldn’t withhold his frustrated laugh. “Because your safety is always your first priority.”
“I promise I’ll come back unharmed,” she whispered.
Rubbing his face against her hair, he inhaled deeply. “You’d better.”
She met his mouth and opened beneath his kiss, then pulled back. “Your well-being is, and will always be, my first priority and I know you’d have a meltdown if anything happened to me. But I need to do this. We need to do this—for both of them.”
Yes. He understood more than he cared to that while his mate was here safe in his arms, the boy he’d spent years trying to save might lose his only chance at a new life with Rayven if they failed. How like Lena to keep others foremost in her mind. Deacon lifted his head at the sound of vehicles coming to a halt in the driveway. “At least you get to meet Whitman, Alarico, and his mate, Bibiani.”
He held her in his arms until he sensed more than heard people enter the room, then glanced over his shoulder and moved to Lena’s side. “Speak of the devil.”
“Richly tanned and quite the fashion statement in maroon silk shirt with tailored pants. Not quite what I expected,” Lena muttered across their shared bond.
“Should I be worried?”
“I like my man able to rappel from helicopters with me and brave the cold.”
“I’ve always kept you warm.”
“Think I didn’t notice?”
“You notice too much.”
She chuckled as Alarico escorted a beauty with walnut-brown hair curling down to her hips and striking frost-blue eyes, the irises ringed in gold. They both moved straight to Lena with smiles of casual greeting, but Deacon knew his friend well enough to sense the slight tension in his body.
Trust between himself and Alarico had been well earned, but Deacon harbored a potential killer in his home, and the South American alpha wasn’t about to risk his beloved mate of many years by negligence in assessing any threats.
“Jaguar.” Lena’s voice held a shade of awe.
Once again, he reveled in the fact that his mate could detect the animal beneath the skin of his people. Having grown up human with such a talent could have broken her. Instead, it was just one more reason why her fit to him was sublime. “And the most dominant predator in his territory since Columbus sailed the oceans.”
“You have to tell me the story of how you became friends.”
“After the tribunal.”
Alarico bowed to Lena. Friend or not, he didn’t make the mistake of touching Deacon’s mate. “My friend, I’m glad to see you finally succeeded in winning a beautiful woman’s heart.”
“Deacon’s definitely won my heart,” Lena responded with a blatant look at him. “But he’s having a problem accepting my need for a little professional space.”
Bibi’s rich warm laugh coincided with a delicate elbow to her mate’s side. “Sadly an alpha trait. One that doesn’t go away even after years, and years, and years. I suspect you and I will become good friends.”
“I look forward to that. I often wanted to visit the Amazon. I hear the western coast of South America is also beautiful and the food incredible,” Lena responded.
“And the wines.” Bibi waved her hand in the air and then grasped Lena’s. “You will love it. No one can celebrate like our clan. The music and the food. Not to mention dancing.”
Deacon groaned, and Lena cast a worried glance his way, but he shrugged. For once, he wouldn’t mind taking part in the mating dances of Alarico’s territory. No doubt his mate would find the night of festivities as invigorating as the rest of Alarico’s clan.
Lena looked toward the only other person in the room. “You must be Whitman Sheridan.”
As always, Whit’s expression remained stoic as he dipped his head to Lena before he glanced one more time at his phone. What pressing need was weighing him down now? Then again, his sanctuary sat within an hour of one of the world’s leading financial capitals. The thought gave Deacon shudders. He equally marveled at and was repulsed by his friend’s ability to fit seamlessly into the top echelon of the New York elite.
“Black leopard. Power and money.”
“A rather quick judgment.”
“You’re testing me. But wearing a custom-tailored black suit—because I can tell that isn’t off the rack—with a crisp white shirt that doesn’t even look mussed after several hours on the plane, and that ruby-red tie screams dominant and in charge. He’s covering up his speed, lean muscles, and perhaps some anger issues beneath a camouflage. And the trim haircut just an inch shy of a buzz cut? In a shifter, I’d say that is rigid control worn like a shield. Heaven help his mate. Did I pass?”
“Excellent, as always. Humans never look past his façade and shifters don’t dare—your assessment is correct. Yet for all his polish, he can be ruthless when needed. He’s lost too many close to him to be anything but the predator he was born to be.”
Not that Deacon blamed him. It had taken strong will and determination to bring the northeastern American clan back from the brink of destruction and betrayal.
“Another story for after the tribunal?”
“I’ll tell you how we met.” But perhaps not all of Sheridan’s secrets. Deacon wouldn’t lie to his mate, but Whit’s secrets weren’t Deacon’s to tell.
Whit slid his cell phone into his pocket and moved in front of Lena. “I have to say that Deacon is luckier than he deserves. First, he beats me to the punch in recruiting a valuable lion shifter, then he convinces a beautiful, strong woman to live in the middle of nowhere as his mate.”
“Not too subtle.”
“Remember he is the prosecuting side of the tribunal.”
“I haven’t forgotten that for a moment.” She backed away from Whit until she leaned against Deacon’s chest. “It wasn’t a hard sell. I love everything about this clan and the land they protect.”
“And in all fairness,” Deacon added, sliding his arm around Lena’s waist. “Our resident lion shifter contacted me about joining my clan. I didn’t recruit him.”
Whit arched a brow. “But you came into my territory to get him.”
“Bitter much?” Alarico coughed into his closed fist as he jokingly looked between them.
Deacon raised a brow and smirked at Whit. “Hardly necessary if the syndicate in your territory hadn’t already been trying to kill him and his family.”
“I can’t be responsible for every bit of human mayhem going on around the country.” Whit didn’t continue and instead pulled his phone out again as it vibrated.
“Problem?” Deacon asked as Lena cast a side-glance at him.
“My sister is nowhere to be found,” Whit responded with a shake of his head and held up a hand to them while he texted with the other. “I’m not paranoid. She usually keeps in touch. How long do you think this tribunal will take?”
“Is that a good sign?”
“Not even a family distraction will keep Whit from a thorough and blistering counterattack.”
“Not exactly good times.”
Lena slipped her hand into Deacon’s as he narrowed his gaze on both alphas. “I’m hoping this will go very quickly.”
“She killed him, then,” Whit responded with certainty as he slid his phone back into his pants pocket.
“Deacon?” Rayven stood in the open doorway, her voice calm and even. Her posture showed no signs of either panic or cockiness. All in all, Deacon considered her first impression a good job of walking the line between subservient and dominant. Difficult for an up-and-coming alpha. Harder yet for one under intense scrutiny. “Brindy said you were looking for me.”
Everyone in the room turned. Alarico tensed and none too subtly tucked his mate closer to his side. Whit stood stock-still, evaluating his opponent with a keen eye and likely alpha senses as well. Deacon felt
a moment of uncertainty as he waited to see if Rayven would pass their test. Lena’s hand tightened in his.
“This is it.”
“Yes.”
Alpha power swelled in the room, pressing against Deacon’s skin in a way that made the mantle push him to buck back. He stifled the need to shift and dominate everyone in the room. With his home open, vulnerable to others, the tether of control grew taut. But he wasn’t a fledging and his trust with the mantle had evolved over long and difficult years. He reminded himself and his wolf this was a minor event. Lena visibly paled, the overload of energy difficult for her human body to bear. He bolstered what he could across their bond, but he could do nothing for Rayven.
Her blink and the subtle telltale movement of her fingers at her sides indicated her struggle. One she had to handle on her own.
“Yes, please join us,” he said, adding more volume and command than usual.
Despite that, Rayven bore the appraisal from both alphas and his unexpected overbearance admirably.
Alarico’s eyes widened as he took in Rayven’s appearance. Deacon knew for a fact that her diminutive stature didn’t fool his friend. However, she possessed poise and grace, neither being traits inherent in her father. “You didn’t get those beautiful Irish eyes from your father. If you are lucky enough not to have inherited his gene for foul temperament, then we will all be happily done with this ordeal in no time.
“With you on your way home,” Alarico added with a slight narrowing of his eyes.
Whit cocked his head and crossed his arms over his chest, his alpha vibration still a slight tremor in the room. “It will take more than impressive beauty to sway the rest of the alpha board. And no offense, Ms. Karndottir,” he added, with a chill in his voice. “I’m surprised to see you moving without armed escort in Alpha Black’s home.”
He focused his stare. His sizzle of power ricocheted between Rayven and Deacon. “I’m taking it that I’m not misreading this message of your support of her, Deacon? I’m surprised you’ve taken this stance.”
At any other time, Deacon would have taken the gauntlet as a challenge, as an all-out assault. But Whit had accepted his role from the alpha shifter council as the prosecutor for this case, just as Deacon had accepted his. Whit’s goal—if that was a valid term—was to bring forward all the reasons why Rayven should be found guilty of this charge. The fact that Whitman Sheridan was one of Deacon’s closest friends couldn’t enter into that equation, or both of their territories would be at risk.