by Zoe Chant
His hands tingled as blood began to rush back into them. He leaned his head on her shoulder and breathed in the scent of her hair. It reminded him of cinnamon and ginger, sensual yet familiar and comforting.
A tight knot of pain and grief inside his chest began to loosen, allowing him to speak again. “There’s more. I wasn’t the only person Apex tried to turn into an ultimate predator. I’m supposed to rescue people, but I couldn’t save any of them. Everyone died but me.”
“That’s terrible, but that wasn’t your fault, either.” Her arms tightened around him. “I haven’t saved everyone I wanted to save, either. I’ve had people die in my arms, too. They were patients, not friends, but still.”
Shane felt as raw and exposed as if he’d been sunburned all over. The question he wanted to ask would expose him even more, but he had to ask. “How do you live with it?”
“I remember everyone I did save.” Catalina turned to press her lips into his cheek. “You’ve saved people, too. That’s what PJs and bodyguards do. And you saved me.”
The tangle of old hurt knotted around his heart slowly unraveled, letting him breathe freely. He had saved people. One of them was right there with him, alive and warm, holding him in her arms. She knew what he’d done and what he’d failed to do, and she loved him anyway. She was a fighter, like him. And like him, she hadn’t always won.
Why had he been so caught up in thinking she could never understand or trust him if he told her the truth? He’d been the one who hadn’t understood or trusted her.
“I can tell you everything,” he offered. “The entire story, if you’re not too tired. I’ve never told it to anybody. But I’d like you to know.”
“I’m not tired,” Catalina replied. “I’m a night owl— I’m completely awake. And of course I want to know your story. I love you.”
Chapter Eight
Shane’s Story
I went through PJ training with a guy named Justin Kovac. The Pipeline is one of the longest special ops training courses— it takes nearly two years— and less than a quarter of everyone who starts makes it through. By the time we were done, we might as well have been brothers. I was pretty intense back then— I guess that hasn’t changed— but Justin was more easygoing. He used to play pranks, tell jokes, get me to lighten up.
We all had nicknames based on how we looked or our names or dumb stuff we did in training. Justin had green eyes and hair the color of a new penny. Not exactly a redhead, but close enough to get him nicknamed Red. I got named after an old cowboy movie, Shane. At the end Shane leaves town, while this kid yells after him, “Come back, Shane! Come back!” So they called me Comeback.
We were PJs for ten years. Sometimes we were on the same team, sometimes not, but we always kept in touch. There were other guys I was friends with, and Justin was more outgoing than me so he had buddies everywhere. But I was closest to him. Like you and Ellie, I think.
I already told you Apex captured me while I was on a mission overseas. What I didn’t tell you is that they got everyone who went on that mission. Not just the PJ team. They also kidnapped the helicopter crew that was transporting us. Six men, two women— the helo pilot and one of the door gunners were female. I hadn’t met the helo crew before, but I knew the other two PJs, Armando and Mason. We weren’t best friends, but they were good guys. The third PJ was Justin.
I can’t get into the details of the mission. It’s probably still classified. So I won’t say exactly how we were all captured. I’m sure Apex meant to take us all alive and unharmed. But we were already in a combat situation— they took advantage of that, used it to cover up what they were doing— but while the Apex guys were shooting at us with tranquilizer rifles, the enemy was using actual bullets. Justin took a round to the chest. I was trying to stop him from bleeding to death when I got nailed by a tranquilizer dart and passed out.
When we woke up, we were on a base pretty similar to the one you and I escaped from. Dr. Elihu was there, too. He designed the ultimate predator process. He bragged about it to us— he was proud. Said it was completely revolutionary and he’d win the Nobel if it was ever declassified. At first we didn’t believe him. But he had us watch while his buddy, this guy named Blackburn, turned into a leopard. Then we believed it.
A helo pilot and co-pilot, two helo door gunners, and four PJs— you’d think we could escape from anywhere. But Justin couldn’t travel and we couldn’t leave him. They were keeping us all together, in a sort of high-security hospital barracks. He was getting good medical care, but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He couldn’t even sit up in bed. So we decided to wait till he’d recovered, and then we’d all make a break for it.
They took Elizabeth, one of the door gunners, first. Blackburn bit her, and then she could turn into a leopard. Even though we were pissed at being kidnapped, we all thought that was pretty cool. Elizabeth sure did. Then they put her through the ultimate predator process. And she died.
At first we didn’t realize just how risky ultimate predator was. Dr. Elihu made out like Elizabeth dying was some kind of freak accident. Then he chose Neil, the co-pilot. It went down exactly the same as it had with Elizabeth: Neil became a leopard, and that went fine. Then they took him for the process, and he didn’t make it.
We realized that we couldn’t wait for Justin to get better. By then the rest of us would be dead. So we decided to stage an uprising once the next guy got bitten. That hadn’t hurt Elizabeth or Neil, and we figured we could use a leopard shifter on our side. We hoped to get to a phone or radio and call for help. Our backup plan was that one of the PJs would try to sneak out while the rest of us were fighting. I wouldn’t leave Justin, so we decided that Armando would try to get out, or Mason would try if Armando was the one who became a leopard.
But it turned out that just getting bitten could kill people. Blackburn bit Mason, but he didn’t become a shifter. He just died.
Then it was down to five of us. We went ahead with our plan anyway, but we never got near a phone, and Armando didn’t make it out. All that happened was that we did some damage before we all got tranquilized. After that we were guarded much more closely. They chained up everyone who was going to get bitten, so they couldn’t do anything once they became a shifter. Armando and Rosa and Tyrone survived getting bitten, but not ultimate predator.
Finally Justin and I were the last ones left. He was doing better by then— he could get out of bed and walk around the room— but it would be weeks before he was up to running or fighting. He told me to forget about him and escape by myself. But there was no way I’d leave him there, wounded and imprisoned and alone.
Blackburn came in to bite Justin, and I did my best to kill him. He was a shifter, way stronger than I was then, but I was a better fighter. I might’ve had a chance, except for those fucking tranquilizer guns. I got knocked out, and when I woke up, Justin had been bitten.
His wound was nearly healed, and he was much stronger than he’d been just a few hours before. Nobody had told us that shifters had healing powers. Those bastards at Apex had deliberately let Justin suffer instead of having Blackburn bite him right away, just to make it harder for the rest of us to escape.
Apex waited a couple days, until Justin was completely recovered. They drugged us both so we couldn’t fight, and put him through the process. It had gone wrong for the others right away, but Justin seemed fine. Dr. Elihu was all excited. And I— I was sure he’d make it.
Then he collapsed. Everything happened so fast after that. One second he was talking to me, the next second he’d stopped breathing. I started doing CPR, but Dr. Elihu and his medical team tried to take him away from me. I knew they were going to try to resuscitate him, but I wouldn’t let go of him. I couldn’t. So I got tranquilized again.
When I woke up, he was gone.
I didn’t fight when Blackburn came for me. With no one left to protect, I didn’t care if I lived or died. But once he bit me, I felt differently.
It’s hard to explain
if you’re not a shifter. Even if you were born a shifter, I think it’s different than if you were made into one. My panther’s me. But he’s me with a voice and body and instincts that are different from me, Shane. He’s the part of me that’s pure predator— that doesn’t care about anything but the hunt and the kill and survival. He sure cared whether he lived or died.
By the time they put me through the process, my panther had changed how I felt. I was absolutely determined to live and escape. My panther didn’t like being trapped any more than I did.
And I survived.
I have no idea why I was the only one. Everyone else had been just as determined to live as I was. But it had gone a little differently for me from the beginning. Blackburn was a leopard, and the others he bit became leopards. Technically, I am too. A panther isn’t a different species, it’s just a black leopard or black jaguar. But I looked different.
That probably had nothing to do with why I survived, though. Justin’s leopard looked different, too, and it didn’t save him. His fur was white instead of yellow. When I met Fiona at Protection, Inc., I realized that he’d been a snow leopard, like her.
Once I’d gotten through the process, I found out that I could make people not notice me. I don’t think anyone at Apex was expecting that. I demonstrated my fear power, so they’d think they knew what my power was— and that it was the only power I had. I gave them a couple days to let down their guard, and then I walked out without anyone noticing. I stole one of their cars and a couple of their wallets, and took off.
I wish now that I’d gone back to my Air Force base. I thought of it. But I didn’t know if Apex was a government agency or what. If they were, I might just be delivering myself straight back to them. And I was afraid that if I contacted anyone I knew, I’d put them in danger.
Once I could get online, I looked myself up. Apex had put a story out that we’d all been killed in action when our helo had gone down over the ocean, so there were no bodies. That made me really reluctant to contact anyone in the government— that was a hell of a cover-up. Apex had to be powerful. Anyone I talked to might just turn me over to them.
So I ran halfway across the country, then hid out in a big city. I figured I could lose myself there for a while and think things over. But I didn’t know as much about hiding my tracks then. And I didn’t know a clock was ticking.
I was free for about a week, and then I got sick. I thought it was the flu. The symptoms were a pretty good match— weakness and fatigue, fever and chills, pain in my bones and joints. At first I wasn’t worried. I’m a PJ, right? I’m strong. I figured I’d just hole up where I was, in this dirtbag motel I’d checked into under a fake name, and drink a lot of water.
But I got a lot worse, really fast. By the next morning, I could barely stand up. Then I thought maybe I had pneumonia. I was worried Apex would find me if I went to an ER, so I decided to take a taxi to a clinic. I figured I could get antibiotics without having to check myself in anywhere. But I didn’t even make it out the front door of the motel. I passed out in the lobby, and someone called 911.
I woke up in the ICU. The doctors told me my heart was failing. I was young and I looked strong, but I was dying and they couldn’t figure out why. They wanted to know my complete medical history and if I’d traveled abroad recently. I tried to stick to my cover story, but it’s hard to lie well when you’re that sick.
By then I’d guessed that what was really going on was the ultimate predator process catching up to me. I figured it was even money whether or not I’d die of that before Apex found me.
It turned out that Apex was already hot on my trail. They’d tracked me down to the city I was in, and they’d already started contacting hospitals asking for a man of my description with my symptoms. They said I had a rare virus and needed to be quarantined. I was in the hospital for less than a day before Apex found me and had me medevaced back to the base.
So I ended up right back where I started. That was when Dr. Elihu explained to me that I needed regular treatments that I could only get from Apex, or the process would kill me after all.
I didn’t want to die. I especially didn’t want to die like that, slowly in a hospital bed. I’d always wanted to die in combat, on my feet. I decided to play along, do as I was told, and figure out how to replicate the treatment so I could get away later.
But the only way I could deal with being an assassin was to let my panther take over. He was fine with lying in wait to kill people. So I let myself just become the predator.
In a way, it felt good. It was like being in combat or practicing martial arts. There was nothing but doing. I didn’t plan anything past the end of a mission. I didn’t grieve. I didn’t think about the past or future. I lost track of time. A year went by, and it barely felt like a month.
Then they sent me to kill an arms dealer. He was my age and had hair the color of a new penny. He was a bad guy, for sure— none of the people Apex sent me after were innocent— so I went ahead and took him out. But it made me think of Justin. Apex had killed him, and I’d never paid them back for that. And it reminded me of who I used to be.
I’d never figured out what the treatment was. And if I hadn’t in a year, I never would. But I was tired of being nothing but a predator. I wanted to be Shane again, even if it cost me my life.
I went back to the base and did the treatment, one last time. Once I was done, I broke into the base commander’s office and killed him. Then I went looking for Dr. Elihu. But the alarm got raised before I found him. I was near an exit, so I had to make a decision. I could either keep fighting and eventually get tranquilized, or run.
I shifted and took off into the forest. Blackburn went after me, as a leopard. He caught up with me and we fought. Physically, we were a pretty even match. But he was fighting me because it was his job, and I was fighting him to pay him back for what he did to Justin and the other PJs and the helo crew. I’d never wanted anything more in my life than I wanted to kill him. And I did.
I was clawed and bitten all over, but I waded through streams so I wouldn’t leave a trail of blood. I went deeper and deeper into the wilderness until I was sure I’d lost any pursuit. I hunkered down for a couple days to let my wounds heal, and then I headed out again.
I found a backpack hidden under a rock. It had clothes and boots in it. The scent was old— whoever it belonged to hadn’t touched it in years. So I took it. The clothes were too big for me, but they more or less fit. Then I kept hiking as a man. I’ve always loved the wilderness. It seemed like a good way to spend the rest of my life.
After a week or so, I started getting sick. It was exactly like when I’d escaped the first time, so I knew my time was up. I kept walking till I collapsed and couldn’t get up again. I was in a glen by a stream, beneath a huge maple tree turning yellow and red. I lay where I’d fallen, and I watched the water flowing and the leaves drifting down until I passed out.
I was way out in the middle of nowhere. It never occurred to me that anyone would find me. But someone did. I was drifting in and out of consciousness, but I woke up when someone put their hand on my forehead.
This huge guy was kneeling beside me, looking concerned. He said, “Can you talk to me? My name’s Hal Brennan. What’s yours?”
I sure wasn’t going to tell him. I said, “Get your hands off me.”
Hal took his hand off my forehead, but he didn’t go away.
“Are you lost?” he asked. “You have a fever.”
I knew he meant well, but I was pissed off at him. I’d done terrible things to survive, and I was dying anyway so it had all been for nothing. I hadn’t saved anyone, not even myself. I hadn’t gotten the chance to be killed in action, doing something useful. And now I couldn’t even die in peace without this big lunk bothering me.
I said, “I’m fine. I’m just taking a nap.”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Can you even sit up?”
I figured that would get rid of him, so I tried. I managed t
o lever myself up halfway, and then I collapsed. Hal caught me and lowered me down.
“You need to go to a hospital,” Hal said.
“I don’t want a hospital,” I said. “Take off.”
Hal didn’t move. He said, “Buddy, you’re sick. You’re burning up, and you’re not thinking straight. If you don’t get medical care, you could be in big trouble.”
He bent down like he was going to try to lift me. I didn’t have the strength to fight, so I hit him with fear. He rocked back a bit, then held his ground and growled at me. I’d never heard anything like it.
We stared at each other for a moment. Then he relaxed and said, “You must be a shifter. I am too. I’m a bear.”
I believed him. Who would even mention shifters if they weren’t one? And something about him made me trust him, at least a little bit. I said, “I’m a panther.”
Hal took a second look at me and chuckled. “Hey, you found one of my emergency clothes stashes! But you’re welcome to it. I’m sure you needed it more than I did.”
He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about the hospital. I know a doctor who’s a shifter herself. She’ll know how to treat you and she won’t tell a soul.”
“There’s nothing anyone can do for me,” I said.
He frowned and said, “Are you sure? What’s the matter with you?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I was kidnapped and experimented on. I just know that I’m dying. I want to die here, in the woods, not with a tube down my throat in some white room with no windows.”
Hal looked around, then he touched a red maple leaf lying on the moss. It looked tiny next to his hand. He said, “I get it. I’d want the same thing, if it was my time. But you shouldn’t give up the fight just yet. How about this. I’ll take you to Dr. Bedford. If she can’t help you, I’ll bring you back.”
I wanted to make sure he meant it, so I asked him, “You promise that you’ll bring me back and leave me here?”