Bengal's Heart

by Leigh, Lora

  She was left holding on to him with a desperation she had never known in her life. Holding on to him to retain some semblance of order, some measure of security.

  His arms around her, his flesh locked to hers, his body sheltering hers—he was her security. Her port in a storm that threatened to destroy her with the violence of the pleasure. She had sworn she would never depend on anyone, that no man would be the center of her universe, her port or her security.

  Even Douglas hadn’t meant that much to her. He had never been imperative to her life, or to her pleasure. In this moment, awash with ecstasy, Cassa admitted, to herself at least, that Cabal was exactly that. Even without the mating heat, this man was imperative to her heart.

  “Easy.” She heard his voice whispering at her ear, and only in that second did Cassa realize that she was crying.

  Her head was buried against his shoulder, her arms locked around him, and she was losing her mind, because she was insane enough to let him realize what he meant to her.

  He was a Breed. He wasn’t a normal male. He could sense, scent emotions. He would know what she refused to say. He could smell what she refused to feel. And right now, she was feeling plenty that she shouldn’t, that she had sworn she wouldn’t.

  “I have you.” His lips pressed against her neck, his hands slid up her back, the calloused palms stroking over her flesh, soothing the tremors racing through her.

  She didn’t want the comfort. She didn’t want to depend on this, didn’t want to look forward to it only to have it taken away from her later. Because it always went away. It never lasted for long.

  She fought to steady her breathing as he slowly withdrew from her before lifting her in his arms and rising to his feet. Legs around his hips, her arms holding tight, Cassa rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs to the huge bedroom above and the bed that still held their scent.

  “You make me lazy,” he said softly as he laid her in the bed, then followed quickly, pulling the sheet and comforter over them as he drew her back into his arms.

  “Yeah. Lazy.” The mockery in her voice fell far short of what it should have been. She hadn’t met a Breed yet that was anywhere close to lazy.

  “You make me want to stay right here, Cassa, for as long as I can stay.”

  His head settled into the pillow beside her as she turned to stare into the somber gaze directed at her.

  “Why couldn’t you?” she asked. “Unless you have something to do that you don’t want me to be a part of.”

  He continued to stare back at her silently, the gold flecks in his gaze brightening knowingly as he watched her.

  “We’re mates,” she pointed out. “There should be nothing you do that I can’t be a part of.”

  She had been saving that trump, hoping to use it at a time when it would actually work. She didn’t know all the specifics of Breed Law, but one thing she was damned sure of: If she didn’t want him endangering his life, then he was required to cease and desist at once, for a period of one year.

  She would hate to pull that one on him; truth be told, she probably couldn’t bring herself to do it, unless he made the mistake of trying to take her out of her job.

  “You know, I’ve always been aware of the fact that you knew how to play dirty,” he stated musingly, without anger.

  He was actually pretty calm, surprisingly. Terrifyingly so perhaps.

  Cassa arched a brow. “Play dirty? I merely stated that I should be a part of whatever you’re doing, however you’re doing it. How is that playing dirty?”

  He snorted at the comment as he shifted to his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “We both know Breed Law.”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you think I’m threatening you, Cabal?” She blinked for added effect. “I wouldn’t ever.”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t,” he drawled. “You seem like a very intelligent woman, Cassa. That’s why you’re going to stay out of this now that we’ve mated. I won’t risk you.”

  She laughed. Right there in his face, amusement welled inside her until it erupted past her lips and left her shaking her head at his arrogance.

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” she promised with all the sarcasm she could muster as she rose from the bed and jerked the wrinkled sheet from the bed to wrap around her naked body.

  She didn’t care much for the frank male appreciation in his gaze at that moment. Nor did she care for the mockery that lingered in his expression.

  “Cassa.” He didn’t bother to cover his nakedness, or his arousal, as he crawled over the bed. “This isn’t a joking matter. Whatever the hell is going on here is about to get fucking dangerous.”

  “You cover my back and I’ll cover yours.” She glared back at him fiercely. “But I won’t be leaving, and I won’t drop what I’m doing here.”

  “Just what the fuck are you doing here?” His voice rose, not a lot, but a lot for Cabal, who normally kept his tone calm, even. “Besides endangering your own life.”

  “Getting the story,” she informed him coldly.

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean ‘why’?” she exclaimed. “The killer sent me information, Cabal. Should I just ignore it?”

  “What are you going to do with the information or the answers once you get them?” he asked her, his expression fierce. “You know we’re going to cover this up, bury it as deep as possible. Why write a story that will never see print, Cassa? Why do that to yourself?”

  Why? She stared back at him in confusion. She knew the answer, but it wasn’t one she could give him.

  “What if you’re wrong about covering it?” she whispered.

  “What if someone else finds out? Or the killer sends the proof to another reporter? You’ll need the answers. You’ll need someone to write a story that will show your side of it, and cast a better light on the Breeds.”

  “That can be accomplished without putting you in danger,” he stated. “Why are you here?”

  “I want the answers,” she bit out angrily. “I need to know why.”

  He shook his head. “You need to absolve yourself. That’s the reason you’ve done this all these years. It’s the reason why you’ve always fought to see the Breeds as heroes and victims rather than the killers we were created to be. It’s why you put yourself in danger time and again for the Breeds. You can’t make up for what Watts did.”

  Cassa flinched. The pain of his statement traveled through her until she was amazed that she was standing on her feet. It was like a punch of agony centered in her soul that spread out through her entire being.

  She couldn’t make up for what she had allowed Douglas to do. For what she hadn’t realized he was doing. She’d known that all along. Known that there was no absolution, no forgiveness for the crimes he had committed. The crimes she had unknowingly committed in trusting the man she had been married to.

  There was no way anyone else could forgive her either. There had been two dozen Bengal Breeds. To her knowledge they had all died but one. Cabal. The most fierce, the most dangerous of them all.

  “That has nothing to do with this,” she argued, aware that her voice as well as her argument was weak.

  It was no more than she had thought herself. She fought to make the world see what she saw once she had gotten to know the Breeds. Men and women fighting for survival. It didn’t matter what they had been created to be. What mattered was what they were, honorable, strong.

  “It has everything to do with this, Cassa,” he growled as he jerked a pair of jeans from a dresser and pulled them on. “You think putting yourself in the line of fire will make anyone see you differently?”

  Cassa whirled around so he wouldn’t see the pain in her face. It was exactly what she had hoped. That the Breeds, should they ever learn the extent of what Douglas had done, would believe that she hadn’t been a part of it. She had hoped that it would ease the hatred she feared Cabal felt for her.

  “Whether they see me differently or no
t doesn’t matter,” she said quietly as she turned back to him and fought to bury the pain deep enough that even his Breed senses wouldn’t detect it. “What matters is how I see myself. And I wouldn’t like what I saw in the mirror every morning if I just walked away from this.”

  She walked away from him instead. She didn’t bother to stalk out of the room; she didn’t think she had the energy for that. She just walked away, returned to the living room and the clothes scattered across the floor.

  Her clothes as well as his.

  Shaking her head at her own feeling of failure, she hurriedly dressed before picking up the pack she carried as a purse and leaving the cabin.

  The walk was going to suck, but it wouldn’t suck near as bad as staying here and staring into his eyes, knowing that nothing she did, no matter how much she loved him, would ever make up for what her ex-husband had done. Or for how much he blamed her for the chance that Douglas had had to deceive the Breeds.

  The air was chilled, the late winter weather moving in hard on the mountains as the temperature began to drop. It would be a long, cold walk back to town. But it couldn’t be any longer, or any colder, than the past that stretched out behind her.

  ◆ CHAPTER 17 ◆

  He followed her. Cassa had expected it. He was her mate. He was her hormonal, biological match. She would have snorted at that thought if she weren’t so pissed off at him.

  The walk back to town was a chilly one, but it gave her a chance to think, a chance to put things in perspective a bit more than she had already. Not that she had anything worked out, because she didn’t.

  When he pulled up next to her and the passenger door of the Raider slid open, she turned, looked at him for a long moment, then slammed the door closed.

  She was here for a story; she wasn’t here to be psychoanalyzed by a Bengal that had no idea the torment she had lived through because of his suffering. And she wasn’t here to fight for the heart of a man who obviously didn’t want to open his heart to her.

  When she hit town, her legs were burning, her anger was building. She was nearing the entrance to the Kanawha Falls when a wicked, powerful black Harley pulled in from the parking lot and drew to a stop.

  Dog.

  His smirk was mocking, amused, as he glanced from her to the Raider.

  “Want a ride?” he asked.

  “I won’t ride with him, why would I ride with you?” she snapped.

  “Maybe because I’ll give you answers, and he’d die and go to hell first?” he asked as she drew to a stop a second before Cabal did.

  “Better hurry, here he comes,” Dog laughed as the Raider drew to a quick stop.

  Cassa pushed aside her misgivings about Dog, jumped on the back of the Harley and crossed her fingers with a prayer that she’d survive the ride.

  Dog wouldn’t hurt her so blatantly, she told herself, as she heard Cabal’s vicious curse behind her and Dog roared off.

  “Answers,” she bit out furiously. “As you said, we don’t have much time.”

  “You’ve been fucking up, Ms. Hawkins,” he called back to her as she gripped the leather jacket he wore rather than wrapping her arms around him. She couldn’t bear the thought of embracing him.

  “No kidding,” she said tersely. “Now tell me something I don’t know.”

  Dog took the curves through the little town faster than she would have liked. The motorcycle vibrated and hummed like a powerful beast between her thighs and reminded her of the fact that she shouldn’t be here, not like this, not with this Breed.

  “Something you don’t know?” he called back. “Something you don’t know, Ms. Hawkins, is the same thing that your Bengal is figuring out.”

  “Just keep me in suspense, why don’t you?” she called back as they neared the inn. “And if you don’t mind, don’t pass up my lodging.”

  His big body vibrated with a chuckle as he turned into the inn’s parking lot, pulled around and parked close to the entrance, as Cabal pulled in behind them.

  “Ask him why the killer contacted you, Ms. Hawkins,” Dog suggested as she slid off the motorcycle. “Because he knows why you’re here.”

  His statement had her stopping and staring back at him, her eyes narrowing, aware that Cabal was jumping from the Raider and moving toward them.

  “Why?” she snapped.

  “Because Watts was part of the Dozen, Cassa. He was part of it, and he’s the one the killer wants.”

  With that surprising statement, Dog gunned the motor on the Harley and shot out of his parking space a second ahead of Cabal reaching them.

  Cassa stared up at her mate, shock resounding through her as she saw the suspicion in his eyes, the knowledge. It was there, in the brilliant pinpoints of amber that gazed back at her. He had a piece of the puzzle that she should have had. He’d known something that important, and he hadn’t told her.

  “What would make your rogue killer think I can bring Douglas back from the dead? Or does he just think I should continue paying for his crimes?” Her voice was hoarse with tears she refused to shed, with an anger she refused to let free.

  “Fuck!” The muttered curse was a testament to the rare honesty Dog had become afflicted with.

  A part of her had hoped it was a lie, that the Coyote Breed didn’t know what he was talking about. Dog wasn’t known for his loyalty to the Breed community, quite the contrary. He was known for working with their enemies. In his own way of course. Rumor in the past year was that even Dog’s handler wasn’t always certain which side he was playing on.

  “Yes, fuck,” she stated with cold emphasis on the curse. “Fuck all of it, Cabal.”

  Turning, she stalked away from the Bengal, ignoring the need just for his touch. It wasn’t sexual this time, and it should have been. Mating heat was reputed to always be sexual.

  No, the need twisting inside her now was a need for his touch, for his hold. A need to curl against him and, for once in too many years, just heal a little.

  She’d been alone since her parents’ deaths, twelve years before. On the heels of that had been her marriage. Douglas had moved in, taken over and slowly destroyed the self-confidence Cassa had had within herself.

  How easy she had been, she thought as she pushed into her room and tossed her pack on the nearby table. She had thought she loved him when she married him, but as the months went by, she realized it had been her grief that had had her leaning on him.

  By then, it had been too late. Douglas had integrated himself into her life and had already begun sowing the seeds of her destruction.

  She cursed her own ignorance with him. She’d been cursing it for eleven years now. She had made the mistake in trusting him, and she was still paying the price for it.

  Sometimes she wondered if she would continue paying until the last breath she took. And beyond.

  Death watched the light flicker on in the room at the inn. How warm and inviting it looked from the opposite bank of the river. How many memories it brought back.

  Too many memories. They were stacked from one end of the mind to the other, flickering across the imagination as pain ripped through a soul that had felt shattered for too many years.

  Valentine’s night. It had all happened then. Another anniversary was moving in quickly. Another year without a mate that had brightened every corner of a life that had been dark before that mating.

  Death rubbed at arms that were still sensitive, that still ached for touch. There wasn’t a cell that didn’t miss the presence of the mate. It was like a disease, a steadily building fever that eventually destroyed the mind.

  It never ended.

  Once there had been warmth, laughter. There had been a place to belong. None of that existed now. There was no longer that place to belong or those arms to be held by. There was no longer the kiss that was needed to still the hunger that never stopped growing, never stopped tormenting or torturing the body or the mind.

  It had created Death. This horrifying, gnawing emptiness that never went away. T
hat never eased. The agony never eased, it never went away. It pulsed and echoed through the spirit until insanity would be a relief.

  Many would think it was insanity now. It wasn’t. Insanity was the inability to accept that what one did was wrong. Death was very well aware there was nothing right here. It was simply justice. And justice was all that mattered for the lives that had been taken. For the lives that could never be returned.

  “You were once a handsome man.” Death turned and stared at the bound, gagged victim who lay at the edge of the water.

  His eyes were narrowed and filled with loathing. Filled with fury.

  A smile crossed Death’s lips. It was a brutal smile. One that flashed with razor-sharp teeth and intent.

  Yes, Cash Winslow, a former CIA agent. He had once been a very handsome man. Tall and fit, his hair dark and silky, his eyes deceptively friendly. Once he had been someone Death had trusted. Trusted and been betrayed by.

  “I remember that fishing trip we went on,” Death said quietly, looking at the man Cash Winslow had aged into. “Do you remember?”

  There were muffled sounds of rage behind the duct tape that covered his mouth.

  “I caught the bigger fish. That big ole catfish. You ate with us, planned with us. We ate that big ole fish, tough as he was.” And they had laughed, planned for Breed freedom and lives that were far different from the danger they had faced then.

  Death turned back to Cash then, stared into those eyes. Those deceptive, lying eyes.

  “You betrayed us all.”

  The chill from the river wrapped around a body that had been far colder than this on many nights. Nights when blankets didn’t ease the chill, when even the memories couldn’t warm the ice growing inside.

  Death tapped gloved fingers against Winslow’s forehead. His hair was gray now. He was a little over sixy. Aging. He wasn’t as quick as he used to be, nor was he as intuitive. It had paid to allow time to pass before exacting revenge. The victims weren’t nearly as agile as they used to be.

  “I remember how close you were with so many of them,” Death sighed painfully. “All of us.”