Jake made short work of the wall, tearing down a stud in large chunks of treated wood.
“Come on.” He shifted back to human, grabbed her hand, and yanked her onto her feet.
Dizzy, Anjali pressed behind Jake. He guided her around the stud and punched through to the other side.
They took gulps of clean air as they emerged. Her head clear, Anjali found the button that controlled the gas and the barrier. She slammed it hard enough to bleach her knuckles. Her hand shaking at how close they’d come to dying.
The hissing stopped. A second later, the soot-blackened barrier slid up. Jake jumped onto the desk and snagged his clothes, dressing in seconds, and then started in the direction Kincaid had gone.
Anjali grabbed his arm. “Let him go, Jake.”
“You heard him.” His was a mask of pain. “He killed my parents. He’ll never leave us alone.” He took off in a ground-eating trot.
Anjali was forced to run to keep up. “At least wait for your brother.”
“If I wait, Kincaid will get away.” Jake broke into a run.
She glanced at the ceiling, appealing to God for a second then followed her mate. “I doubt it. He wants you dead as much as you want him. He’s probably gone somewhere to regroup.”
“That’s why we have to catch him before he does.”
Jake tracked Kincaid to the large training room and hesitated. Even from ten feet away. the room smelled of the rubberized mats, sweat, and bleach. The scents unleashed a powder keg of painful memories. Here, he’d been forced to exercise until his feet bled.
His whole body shook with the power of his emotions.
The older man was visible through the open door. He’d piled several weapons on a bench and was gathering more from a metal gun locker. The blonde was nowhere in sight.
Jake marshaled his control and put a hand on Anjali’s arm, guiding her to the wall. Stay here.
Anjali opened her mouth to protest, but he kissed her swiftly, then rested his forehead on hers, his golden eyes gazing into hers. Please?
She nodded. He could read the fear in her, but he refused to let it soften his resolve. The lion and the dragon bayed inside him, begging for blood, for vengeance.
Jake stepped through the open door. “Where’s the woman?”
Kincaid lifted the rifle he held to his shoulder. “Dead, with any luck. I’ll just tell her bosses you killed her before I could take you down.”
“Another murder to your tally?”
“Don’t feel sorry for her. She was an amoral bitch. You should worry about yourself.” Kincaid indicated the rifle with his chin. “I’m the one with the gun after all.”
“And what about my mother? Was she an amoral bitch?” With the lion clawing just under the surface of Jake’s control, a genuine roar rumbled beneath his words.
“She was in the way, and so are you.” Kincaid’s finger readjusted on the trigger.
“What caliber you got there? You sure it’ll take me down?”
Jake forced himself to meet Kincaid’s gaze, hoping to undermine the other man’s confidence. He took a step closer, not even daring to blink. “How many times have you shot me before, while I begged you to set me free? Or just to kill me and end it?”
Kincaid’s smile was cold. “I’m not taking any chances this time. This holds enough of my drug that I won’t even have to shoot you afterward.” He tensed.
Reading the set of his shoulders, Jake hurtled forward, shoving the base of his palms together and up, ripping the rifle from Kincaid’s grasp. The older man fell back, scrambling backward on his elbows toward the other weapons.
Jake raised the rifle. His finger found the trigger.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said a woman’s voice.
Jake froze.
The blonde, Clara, sidled into the room, pushing Anjali in front of her. She had a syringe in her hand, her red-nailed thumb on the plunger, the needle buried in Anjali’s side.
His mate’s mahogany gaze met his. I’m sorry, Jake. She just appeared like the others. She’s already given me a little of the drug. I can’t change.
The blonde made a little moue. “Please excuse my late arrival. Reports of my demise were exaggerated.” She smiled. “And Gareth misspoke. It’s not bitch. It’s witch.” She lifted an eyebrow at Kincaid. “You showed a little more gratitude when I hid your men in plain sight.”
“My words were just for effect.” Kincaid regained his feet, shot his cuffs and brushed the dirt from his trousers, the picture of his usual urbanity.
Typical. Nothing took the bastard off his pedestal for long.
“Hmm.” Clara smirked at Jake. “I’m surprised you believed him. You may be a man, a lion, and a dragon, but Gareth Kincaid is one-hundred percent snake.”
Kincaid sputtered, but Clara brought Anjali closer. “Fortunately, I like that in a man.” Clara grasped Anjali tighter, twisting her hand in Anjali’s shirt collar.
Jake gritted his teeth at the rough treatment.
“Drop the gun or I’ll empty this syringe into the little woman, and there’s more than enough in here to stop her heart.”
Anjali’s face was pale, her pupils huge with fear and anger.
Jake swallowed. He had to live for her. “Kill me and she dies, too.”
Kincaid smiled. “Pregnant chimeras tend to linger until they give birth.”
Jake inhaled sharply in unison with Anjali. His gaze found her face, and he sniffed the air, searching for some hint Kincaid lied.
Kincaid smiled, clearly pleased by their reaction to his bombshell. “Only conception could have triggered her metamorphosis into a chimera.”
“You’re lying.” Anjali crossed her arms. “Conception takes longer than that.”
The older man smiled. “Not in chimeras, my dear.”
Jake gazed at Anjali. In a flash, he saw her cradling her child to her breast, the tender expression of mother’s love lighting her face. Maybe she couldn’t love him, but she would love their child. He could give her the family she’d lost.
Jake locked his gaze on Kincaid’s smooth face. “That drug will kill the baby, too.”
Kincaid shrugged. “I’m afraid my own skin is more valuable to me than the baby.”
Anjali clasped her hands over her flat abdomen, her eyes dark with entreaty. Don’t let them hurt our baby. She bit her lower lip.
Impotent rage simmered through him. His alter egos strained for freedom, but if the blonde pressed down on the syringe, nothing they did could save Anjali or their child.
Jake threw down the rifle. Maybe, if he delayed, his brother would come through the door.
Kincaid scooped up the weapon, lifted it, and squeezed the trigger.
Crack! The sound of the round exploding from the barrel rang in Anjali’s ears.
“No!” The scream that tore at her throat as she saw the projectile hit and Jake fall seemed to come from somewhere else. A dull buzz filled her ears as her mind insisted on replaying the image in triplicate. A sob ripped through her. She’d been lying to herself all along. She didn’t just care about him. She hadn’t gone with him because they were being chased, or because of the mate bond.
She loved him. He was more precious to her than the air in her lungs. He was her family. For a few, amazing days she’d had a family again and she’d let her own fear keep her from accepting that.
Nothing mattered in that moment but getting to him, and saving their baby.
Beside her, the witch laughed at Jake’s defeat.
Anjali growled and slammed her elbow up into the side of Clara’s head, landing a solid blow on the blonde’s pale temple.
The woman’s laughter cut off abruptly. She slumped to the mats, unconscious.
Anjali snatched one of the handguns on the bench, cocked it, and fired in one motion. The gun roared. The ejected casing flew back at her, whizzing past her ear close enough to feel the heat. The scent of gunpowder filled her nose. She could taste it in her mouth.
&nbs
p; Kincaid glanced up from where he stood over Jake’s limp body. Then his gaze darted to the spreading stain on his own chest, and came back up, eyes and mouth rounded in surprise. “No, no. no.”
Anjali glared at him, shaking with reaction, hand burning from where her skin had gotten caught in the slide. “You’re not raising my baby.”
He slid sideways onto the padded mat with a thump, but she didn’t spare him a second thought.
“Jake!” She rushed to him and knelt by his body, hoping to see those blue, blue or topaz eyes looking into her face. He didn’t move, eyelashes dark smudges against his pale skin. She fought to inhale, but the air had turned to broken glass, and each breath hurt. This couldn’t be happening. He was so vital, so strong. The ceiling seemed to advance, threatening to crush her.
She panted, dredging a shred of calm from the panic and slid his heavy shoulders into her lap. His head lolled as she moved him. Inky hair clung to his cheek, and she pushed it back, rubbing the back of her knuckles against his freshly shaved beard. The skin of his cheek was still warm and pliant. Her mind struggled to imagine a world without him.
“Damnit, Jake, don’t you dare be dead. I can’t lose you, too.” She tore at the edges of his black shirt, not caring as buttons popped free and pattered to the mat. The large dart lay on his muscled chest, the bright red pompom on the end obscuring his wound. A flick of her hand sent the lethal projectile flying. She didn’t bother to note where it landed, instead searching the broad smooth skin for the puncture. Nothing.
She rolled back onto her heels. His skin was unmarked, but still he didn’t move. Could a single scratch have delivered enough drug to be lethal?
A frown tugged at her forehead. Her trembling hands found his wrist, but her own pulse thundered too loud and she shook too much. She lowered her cheek to his mouth. Hope flowered in her chest. Her heart rapped like a watchman’s stick against her breastbone.
A sweep of warm air made her throw back her head and issue a sobbing laugh that rocked both their bodies and echoed through the cavernous room.
He was alive.
But her relief was tempered by his unresponsiveness. Somehow, the dart had failed to pierce his skin. Why didn’t he wake up?
She checked him over, half-rolling him to examine his back and found a bloody lump on the back of his head. He’d struck the leg of the metal bench where it was riveted to the floor.
He wasn’t dead, but he could still die if his brain swelled.
A tear slid down her nose and landed on his chin. Anjali wiped it away, thinking back to her residency. It was imperative to keep the victim awake.
She shoved him firmly. “Wake up, Jake. If you die, Kincaid says I die, too, and I promise to make your next incarnation a living hell.”
Jake groaned, eyelashes fluttering.
Anjali’s heart hiccupped in her chest. Hope made her smile. She leaned over and kissed him. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. I love you.”
Jake opened his eyes. Anjali was relieved to see both pupils were the same size. He moaned and pressed a shaky hand to his head. “Who hit me?” His hand came away bloody, and he winced.
Anjali smiled so hard her cheeks quivered. “You hit the bench.” She propped him up so she could explore his wound. Though there was plenty of blood matting his hair, the break in the skin had already mended, and the bump subsided even as she inspected it. “This is healing.”
She planted a swift kiss on the crown of his head. “Maybe we should check the bench,” she teased, before pressing her face into the warm hollow of his neck and shoulder, her hand resting over the reassuringly strong beat of his heart.
She stayed like that for a moment, just savoring the warmth of his body. Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
She drew back and shook her head. “But what happened with the dart?”
Something fluttered under her palm and she looked down at his chest. What had been smooth skin a moment earlier was now covered with midnight-blue scales.
“To quote my brother, ‘Sometimes it comes in handy to change only one part.’” He slanted a glance her way. “Hmm, maybe this wasn’t the part he was talking about.”
Her face heated. She hit him lightly on his chest, which had already reformed into smooth skin. “Hey, remember, I’m a good Indian girl. We don’t talk like that—until we’re married.”
Jake loved the way Anjali’s face colored. The blush started in her cheeks and spread to her ears and down her neck in a visible wave. She was embarrassed about what she’d just said. Wanted to take it back, maybe.
But no way would he let her do that. “You want to get married, then? Because of the baby?” He watched her expression, straining to interpret every nuance.
Swimming up from the depths of unconsciousness, he’d heard her admit that she loved him, but he couldn’t help prodding her. Yeller eyes. The scared, unwanted boy he’d been needed to hear the words again.
She bit her lower lip, compressing the plump pink flesh with her white teeth, making it moist and rosy. The move slayed him as it always did, but he resisted the urge to soothe the abused skin with his mouth. As much as he craved her touch, he needed her answer more.
She met his gaze with brimming eyes. The sheer emotion in her face made him breathless. “Because I love you.”
She took his hands, enfolding them in her petite grasp and held his gaze, mahogany eyes liquid with emotion. “I would endure a lifetime of grief for one moment with you.”
Inside him the lion purred, content. It seemed he’d run his entire life, but maybe he hadn’t been running away—maybe he’d been running home. And Anjali was home.
“I love you, too,” he said.
She inhaled shakily, her eyes misty, and he realized she’d been worried he didn’t return her feelings.
He pulled her into his arms, wanting there to be no doubt about how he felt. The kiss was soft, but soon flared from reassurance to passion.
And then he wanted nothing more than the heat of her body, the taste of her mouth.
He slid his hands down to press her closer. But a noise drew him back. Anjali looked at him, eyelids half-lowered, lips swollen.
“This isn’t the time.” He concentrated on his brother for a minute. Kyle, you OK?
I’m fine. Some of these guys aren’t getting up again, though. Regret threaded Kyle’s mental voice.
A spasm of sadness flexed through Jake for a moment. No one knew better than he what his brother was going through. He wished Kyle the same kind of happiness he had.
Anjali helped him stand. It wasn’t really necessary, but he loved the feel of her under his arm, so he let her take more of his weight than he needed to.
Worry creased her forehead, filled her almond-shaped eyes. “The bump was healing. Are you dizzy?”
He hid a grin. “Just a little. It’s getting better.”
Kincaid groaned. The sound raised the hair on the back of Jake’s neck.
The lion stirred, summoned by the sound of dying prey, but Anjali’s presence rooted him, allowed him to accept and control his other forms and Jake easily reined him in.
Anjali turned toward Kincaid, tugging away from Jake. “He’s alive.”
But his alter egos weren’t the only ones who wanted Kincaid dead. “Leave him. He would have killed us both.”
She crouched beside the dying man. “I may have left after my residency, but I believe in the oath, not to mention karma.”
Jake ground his teeth, but he shoved his hands into his pockets and didn’t interfere. “You know if he lives, he’ll never let us be. He’s a danger to our family.”
Despite the anger anything to do with Kincaid roused in him, the words, “our family” swamped him with satisfaction and pride. Hard to believe he, who’d never had been part of an “our” at all, let alone a family, now had both.
Anjali pressed her left hand over the wound in Kincaid’s chest. Her hand was soon red with blood.
Kincaid was forever tied to blood in
Jake’s mind, blood and pain. He turned away. He couldn’t forget Kincaid’s crimes so fast.
Facing his own death had been easy. Locked in that cell, he’d always been at Kincaid’s mercy, but when Clara had threatened Anjali, he’d truly known fear. He’d never hated Kincaid more than he had in that moment, knowing if he died Anjali would follow him.
He surveyed the room for the blonde and growled. She was gone.
Anjali noted his glance as she continued working on Kincaid. “Where’s that woman?”
“She must have slipped away while we were preoccupied. It doesn’t matter. I have her scent. Kyle and I will track her down.”
Anjali wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist and turned back to Kincaid. “I missed his heart. But the bullet is very near the blood supply to his left arm. He needs an ambulance.”
“I’m surprised you hit him at all. Have you ever shot a gun?”
“No, but I watch a lot of television.” She leaned harder on the hand pressing Kincaid’s wound and examined her free hand. “I should have known better than to get my hand caught in the slide. Anyone who watches CSI knows that.” She raised her chin. “Now about that ambulance?”
He had to smile at the bulldog stubbornness of her normally sweet face. “You’re determined to have him chase us the rest of our lives, aren’t you?”
“Don’t you worry.” Anjali gave him a radiant smile. “I have a plan.”
He made a mental note to watch out for that particular expression in the future.
Kyle followed the heady scent of human blood. He was low on energy, dulling the call of his feral side, but still his mouth watered. Though generally less volatile than the lion, the dragon wanted feeding.
He stopped at the open door to a room stinking of blood and sweat. He knew Jake and Anjali were in there. Their even respiration and heart rates told him everything was fine, but the dying man inside made it torture to hold back the beast. And John had been anxious about Jake.
He mopped the moisture from his forehead with his sleeve and gathered his strength. Across the threshold, he found Jake with his arm around his mate while she applied pressure to Kincaid’s wound. The sight gave him hope.
In Like a Lion (The Chimera Chronicles) Page 26