“They won’t kill me,” he said.
She stared at him in disbelief, and he said, “They won’t. Wilson wants my powers as much as he wanted Owen’s. They won’t kill me. But you… they…”
“I’m dispensable,” she said.
He nodded. “They want you dead, Emerson. So, you take the money and the keys – you can carry them in your mouth, right?”
She nodded, and he said, “You hide in the woods until we’re gone.”
“You think I’ll sleep any better at night knowing I let Wilson take you? Knowing that you and Owen are being forced to do terrible things for him?”
“It’s the only chance you have at staying alive,” he said.
“Clay, I…”
He pressed his mouth against hers. His lips were cold, and she could taste the fear on them. She returned his kiss, blinking back the tears when he rested his forehead against hers again. “Goodbye, Emerson.”
“Clay, there has to be another way.”
“There isn’t.” He took her hand and led her back to the front door. “When you hear the gunfire, run.”
The adrenaline in Clay’s system made him as jittery as if he’d taken a snort of cocaine. He took a deep breath and blew it out as Emerson stared worriedly at him. “Shift, Emerson.”
“Clay -”
“Less than a minute before Dax throws fucking tear gas through that window,” he snapped. “Shift right the fuck now, Emerson.”
She yanked his shirt over her head, and he watched her shift, a part of him fascinated by it despite everything that was happening. She was a large and impressive looking jaguar with bright jade eyes and sleek golden fur covered in dark spots. She chuffed at him, and he took a moment to run his hand over her head, the hair beneath his palm unbelievably silky. She nudged his hip and trilled quietly.
“Here we go,” he said and opened the door.
He stepped out into the cold air, his breath pluming out in front of him like grey smoke. He stared at the men standing in a half circle in front of him. There were six not including Dax, and no doubt at least another five at the back of the cabin.
“Where is she, Clay?” Dax said.
Clay ignored him, staring at the large man standing on the far left. “Didn’t I already kill you?”
“Fuck you,” the man said. “I’m gonna rip your fucking head off, you pathetic little human.”
“Take it down a notch, Randy,” Dax said.
“Yeah, Randy, relax,” Clay said. “Christ, you bear shifters are so fucking touchy about being shot.”
Randy roared angrily, and Dax glared at him. “Calm the fuck down, I said.”
He turned back to Clay, studying the gun in his hand. “I didn’t hear a gunshot. You strangle her?”
Clay didn’t reply, and Dax made a come here motion. “Let’s go. Mr. Granger’s waiting for you.”
“He’ll have to wait a little longer,” Clay said before raising his gun and shooting Dax. The tiger shifter was unbelievably quick. He jerked to the right, and the bullet meant for his heart hit him in the shoulder instead. Dax roared in surprise and anger as Clay shot the man next to him in the chest.
“Emerson! Now!” Clay shouted before repeatedly firing at the half-circle of men.
Emerson shot out from inside the cabin. He had a brief glimpse of her golden coloured fur before she ran away from the house and toward the woods.
“Holy fuck,” Clay said, “she’s so fucking fast.”
A bullet whizzed by his head and buried itself in the cabin behind him. He dove for cover behind the woodpile as the remaining men fired at him.
“Stop shooting at him, you fucking assholes!” Dax shouted. “The woman! Kill the fucking woman!”
Clay popped his head up and pointed his gun at the man who had turned and aimed his weapon at Emerson. Clay fired, and a burst of blood and brains exited out the man’s forehead before he dropped to the ground and fell face forward into the deep snow.
Clay fired a few more rounds as the men scrambled for cover behind the trees and the side of the cabin. A man rounded the west side of the house. Clay shot him in the face before dropping his empty gun and yanking the second one out of his waistband.
“The woman! Go after the fucking woman!” Dax shouted.
Clay peered around the woodpile. Emerson had disappeared, but a lion shifter bounded through the woods, and he was twice the size of Emerson. If he caught her…
Clay fired a few shots, muttering a curse when none of them hit the lion. More gunfire erupted over his head, and Dax made a roar of rage. “I said stop fucking shooting at him!”
Clay looked over the woodpile and shot the leopard shifter that loped into the woods. The leopard dropped like a stone, and Clay ducked when the remaining men fired their weapons at him. He waited until they stopped before popping back up and shooting the man closest to him in the face.
He fired his last remaining rounds at the men who hadn’t found sufficient cover, each bullet finding its mark until his gun was empty. He dropped it on the ground and sucked in a deep breath before calling, “You ready to surrender, Dax? I’ve killed nine of your goddamn men. I can do this all day.”
“You know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking you’re out of fucking bullets,” Dax said.
“Maybe I have another gun,” Clay said. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”
There was a howling, yowling scream of agony from the woods that made Clay’s balls shrink and his stomach drop. The lion had found Emerson.
Feeling sick to his stomach, he stared at the cabin as Dax said, “The woman’s dead, Clay. It’s over.”
He continued to stare at the cabin. Horror and dread infused every part of his body as he pictured Emerson’s torn and bleeding body. Had the lion killed her quickly? Was she lying there suffering right now because of him?
He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. Emerson was dead because of him. He might as well have killed her himself. He stared at the empty gun in his hand before tossing it over the woodpile.
He stood with his hands up, staring at Dax as the tiger shifter grinned. “Good boy, Clay.”
Leaving the other two men behind, Dax and Randy waded toward him through the deep snow. When they stopped in front of him, Clay stared up at the bear shifter. “Christ, you’re just as ugly as I remember.”
Randy snarled and punched him in the face. Clay’s nose broke with a sickening crack, and he staggered back, dropping to his knees as Dax pushed Randy away. “The fuck, Randy! Wilson wants him alive.”
“He’s still fucking alive,” Randy said. “Asshole deserves to have a broken nose.”
Clay spit out blood before wiping a hand across his upper lip. “You enjoy being Granger’s lapdog, Dax? How long do you think it’ll take before he’s using that serum on you? He’s already given it to this asshole without his permission.”
Randy bared his fangs at him. “The serum’s worn off, dickhead. I’m fine now.”
“If that’s true,” Clay climbed to his feet, “then why the fuck do you smell so bad?”
Randy raised his fist again as a thin, wavering scream rang out behind him and Dax.
“What the fuck?” Randy said as he and Dax turned.
Snarling and growling with blood splattered across her golden fur, Emerson leaped onto the back of one of the waiting men. With a howl of rage, she tore open the back of his neck before jumping at the second man. The man fired his gun, the shot going wild as Emerson barrelled into him and knocked him off his feet.
“That’s my girl,” Clay said and pulled the third gun from his waistband.
Dax turned back toward him, grunting in surprise when Clay shot him in the chest. He stared at the blood seeping through his jacket before stumbling back and sinking to his knees. He fell onto his face as a large brown paw, topped with razor sharp claws, swiped across Clay’s chest.
Hot and agonizing pain sizzled to life in his chest. Clay raised his gun, but Randy slapped it from h
is hand as easily as if he were a small child. Hot blood soaked his shirt and his jacket, and his legs had gone weak. He fell back onto his butt in the snow before sinking slowly to his back. He stared up at the grizzly bear standing over him, his claws covered in Clay’s blood, and his thick yellow fangs bared in a snarl.
“Aw, fuck,” Clay said as the bear reached for him.
Darkness edged his vision, and the last thing he saw before it claimed him was the golden jaguar landing on the grizzly’s back and sinking her fangs into his throat.
Chapter 14
“Come on, goddammit!” Emerson ripped open the cupboard in the kitchen, crouching and pawing through the cleaning supplies. She found a roll of duct tape tucked behind some bleach, and she grabbed it. She snatched up the shirt she’d taken from Clay’s room and the pile of towels off the table before racing back outside.
She knelt next to Clay and wiped the grizzly blood from her mouth before tearing open Clay’s jacket.
“Oh fuck.”
The grizzly had torn open Clay’s chest with four deep slashes. Blood poured steadily out of the wounds, and she pressed three towels down hard on them. He groaned, and she rejoiced in the sound as she patted his cheek with one bloody hand. “Clay, honey, open your eyes.”
His eyelids fluttered open, and he stared blearily at her. “Em?”
“Hi, honey. I need you to press down on these towels for a minute.” She took his hand and placed it on top of the towels. “C’mon, press down hard for me.”
“Hurts,” he said, his voice nasally from the swelling in his broken nose.
“I know it does.” She stroked his hair back from his forehead. “You need to press down. Can you do that for me, Clay?”
His eyelids started to slip shut, and she slapped him hard across the face. Blood flew from his nose. She winced but slapped him again when he didn’t reply. “Clay! Man the fuck up!”
He blinked at her. “Stop yelling. I’m right here.”
“Press on the towel,” she said.
He pressed down, groaning again, as she flattened a piece of duct tape across the front of the towels. “I need you to sit up, Clay.”
“No, thank you,” he said.
She let the duct tape dangle from the towels and slid her hands under his broad shoulders. “I’ll help you. On three. Ready?”
At the count of three, she pulled him into a sitting position. He cried out, his face going even paler.
“I’m sorry, honey. Lift your arms a little.” Moving quickly, she wrapped duct tape around his upper body, anchoring the towels to his chest as tight as she could. “I know it hurts, but you need to stand up. I can’t carry you to the SUV.”
He blinked at her. “We’re leaving?”
“Yes. Stand up.”
She helped him stand. He staggered, and she leaned him back against the cabin as the fog in Clay’s eyes cleared a little, and he stared at her blood-coated skin. “You okay, baby?”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s not my blood.”
“You’re going to freeze to death,” he said.
“Clay, stay right here, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“Yeah, sure, okay.” He closed his eyes, leaning against the cabin with one hand pressed against his towel-wrapped chest. “Fuck, that hurts.”
She changed back to her jaguar form and sprinted into the woods. She stopped next to the dead lion shifter and picked up the leather billfold in her mouth before turning and loping back to Clay and the cabin.
She shifted to her human form, pulled Clay’s shirt over her head, and grabbed the keys from the billfold. Her feet burning in the snow, she quickly yanked off the heavy snow-covered tarp from the SUV and unlocked it. She ran back to Clay and slipped her arm around his waist. “C’mon, Clay, walk with me.”
“Shit, my legs are weak,” he said. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“I know. You can do it, honey. Stay awake. Just a little longer.”
They struggled through the deep snow, both of them panting and gasping for breath by the time they got to the SUV. She got him into the back seat, and he groaned in pain as she climbed in next to him and cupped his face.
“Where are we going?” he said.
“To the hospital. You need surgery to repair what the grizzly did to you.”
“I can’t go to the hospital,” Clay said.
“You’re going.”
She started to slide out of the seat, stopping when Clay grabbed her arm in a surprisingly firm grip. “I can’t, Em. The shit I’ve done… they’ll arrest me. I’ll go to prison.”
“You can teleport out of prison,” she said.
“If my teleportation ability comes back. What if it doesn’t?”
She bit at her lip. “Clay, you’ll die if you don’t go to the hospital.”
“I might not,” he said. “I’m pretty tough.”
A bitter laugh spilled from her throat. “Not that tough.”
“Don’t take me to the hospital, Em. Please.”
She pressed a kiss against his mouth. “Just stay still, Clay. The more you move, the more you bleed. Just don’t die on me, okay?”
“Okay.”
She held out her pinky finger. “Pinky swear you won’t die, Clay.”
A small smile slipped across his face, and he hooked his pinky finger over hers. “Pinky swear, Em.”
She slid out of the back seat and climbed behind the wheel. She tossed the leather billfold of money onto the passenger seat and prayed like hell the SUV would start. She could have cried with relief when it started without a hitch.
She drove toward the road, past the dead bodies that littered the yard of the cabin as Clay made another soft groan from the back seat. She studied him in the rear-view mirror. She didn’t care what he said. She was taking him to the hospital. He could hate her forever, but she wasn’t letting him die. She couldn’t.
“Oh shit,” she said as a flicker of movement in the yard made her stop the SUV.
“What?” Clay cracked open one eye.
“Dax is moving. Shit, he’s sitting up. He’s not dead.”
“There’s a gun in the glovebox. Go shoot him in the head before he fully recovers,” Clay said.
She stared at him. “I can’t.”
“You can,” he said.
“I have killed a lion shifter, a grizzly shifter, and two humans in the last thirty minutes.” She could hear the hysteria in her voice. “Do not ask me to kill someone else, Clay. I can’t. I fucking can’t.”
“Okay, baby, it’s all right,” Clay said. “I’ll do it.”
He reached for the door handle, groaning and falling back against the seat when Emerson stomped on the gas, and they fishtailed their way down the road. “We are getting the fuck out of here.”
Clay muttered a curse. “If Dax is alive, you definitely can’t take me to the hospital now, Em. He’ll tell Granger I’m hurt, and they’ll search for me in the hospitals. They’ll kidnap me while I’m drugged on pain meds.”
“He doesn’t know you’re hurt.”
The amount of fucking blood splashed all over the snow might give him a clue.” Clay’s voice grew fainter. “Em, you can’t take me to the hospital.” His pinky finger twitched against his chest. “Pinky swear, Em. Pinky swear.”
“I pinky swear,” she whispered as he slipped into unconsciousness.
“I keep telling you, Kitten. If you want me to learn chess, there has to be some kind of reward for me. I’m a checkers kind of guy.”
Kat laughed and poked Ronin in his flat stomach. “Strip chess is not a thing, Ronin. I don’t care how many times you try to convince me it is.”
Ronin grinned at her before putting his arms around her waist and leaning back against the counter. She settled between his legs, rubbing her pelvis against his growing erection. “But that being said, I’m not against playing a game or two of strip poker.”
The wind gusted, rattling the window behind them. Ronin glanced at the falling snow. “Well, I was
going to suggest we hit Bud’s for a drink, but it isn’t fit for man or kitty cat out there tonight.”
“The weather has turned pretty gross,” she said.
He grinned. “So, it’s a plan. You turn the heat up to high, and I’ll run upstairs and grab the deck of cards and the poker chips.”
“Deal,” she said. “You might want to add a couple of layers. Otherwise, you’ll be naked in only a hand or two.”
“You know, Kitten, finding out that you’re a tournament-level poker player is probably one of my most favourite surprises about you,” Ronin said. “We need to make a trip to Vegas.”
She laughed and smacked his ass. “Seriously, put on some socks and a sweater…maybe two.”
He wiggled his ass at her as he left the kitchen, and she purred to him before opening the fridge. She’d open a bottle of wine and ask Ronin if he wanted –
The knock on the front door was light and quick, barely detectable over the sound of the storm. It wasn’t that late, but it was dark and cold outside, and they weren’t expecting anyone.
She flipped the front light on and looked through the peephole. A strangled whine slipped from her throat. She unlocked the door and yanked it open, staring in surprise at her sister standing on her front porch. Barefoot in the snow, she wore only a long t-shirt, and dried blood streaked her skin. The man propped up against her with his head hanging down looked even worse, with blood-soaked towels covering his chest and blood dripping onto the fresh snow covering her porch.
“Emerson?” Kat said. “Em… Emmy, what happened?”
Emerson grabbed at her arm with her free hand. “Katarina, I need Ronin’s help.”
“No. No fucking way, Em.” Kat paced rapidly in the spare bedroom, her long dark hair streaming out behind her and her green eyes snapping sparks.
“He is dying, Katarina,” Emerson said. “If Ronin doesn’t heal him, he will die.”
“Let him die,” Kat said.
Emerson stared at her in horror. “Kat… you can’t possibly mean that.”
Kat’s face twisted, and she stared at Clay lying motionless on the bed before taking Em’s hands and squeezing them. “Em, honey, this man is incredibly dangerous.”
Rise of the Jaguar Page 14