Into the Heart 3:
Into the Wild
Caitlyn Willows
Into the Heart 3: Into the Wild
Copyright © November 2009 by Caitlyn Willows
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eISBN 978-1-60737-472-5
Editor: Ann M. Curtis
Cover Artist: Marci Gass
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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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About this Title
Genre: Paranormal Shape-shifter Ménage
Series: Into the Heart; Previous Title: Into the Night
They’ve bonded as friends, working side by side over the last six months — jaguar shifter, human, and calico cat. Now a freak lab accident bonds Cristían, Jeremy, and Lupe as lovers.
Lupe delights in her new human form. Wishes can come true. They made her human and gave her the men she loves. She will defeat anyone who dares threaten her new status and her men.
Jeremy thrills yet fears his new role as shape-shifting jaguar, but his relationship with Lupe and Cristían are more than he ever dreamed. The mysteries left to be resolved and the people trying to kill them taint it all. One thing he knows…no one will separate them.
As for Cristían… He’s been blessed with love where he never expected to find it. Now a force from beyond tells him he created a monster only he can destroy. How can he do so knowing it could cost him the two people he loves the most? Or is he the monster he fears?
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, ménage (m/f/m).
Chapter One
The soft whirr of the centrifuge hypnotized Cristían Duarte. He stared, unblinking, while the red digital numbers ticked down. There was nothing else to do at this point but wait and hope.
It had to work. Please let it work.
He was running out of DNA. Replicating what he had had failed so far. Each time he needed an original source, and with Rose dead, there was little of the original DNA remaining. He'd extracted it from her toothbrush, hairbrush, the sheets where she'd last slept, and the ground soaked with the blood from her murder.
The memory stabbed through his gut. Her big brown eyes had stared lifelessly at the stars, her mouth frozen in a scream she didn't have time to utter. The coppery stench of blood had tainted the air, mingling with the stench of the wildfires that had plagued the surrounding area, creating a horror to add to those already crowded in his head. Her throat had been ripped open with one massive bite. She'd never seen it coming, never had the chance to defend herself.
Cristían closed his eyes. Only minutes prior to her death, his clan had been enjoying a well-deserved run in Balboa Park, never realizing death would visit them. Rose's death blow had been delivered from a threat they never knew existed—mountain lions, another clan of shape-shifters. Until a year ago, the mountain lions hadn't known about the jaguar clan either, and they weren't happy about the discovery.
The mountain lions were volatile and quick to defend their people from outside threats. Cristían couldn't really blame them. They'd lost everything to humans. And discovering other shape-shifters had brought to life stories they'd thought were myths. Tales from their ancestors of other shifters, of wars fought and civilizations destroyed. They were prepared to do whatever it took to protect themselves and their lands, even if it meant killing what they didn't understand.
Finally an uneasy peace was forged between their two clans. A treaty set in place. However, suspicions still lingered on both sides, and grief still clenched Cristían's heart.
He lined up the fifteen petri dishes into three rows of five, then laid out two glass pipettes, in the hope keeping busy would banish the memory. It didn't work.
The jaguar clan had lost a woman that dark night six months ago…and the children she carried. All their hopes and dreams for a future were now dust on the wind, Rose and her babies' ashes mingled with Mother Earth, as was custom. Cristían wished he could join them and was ashamed to admit he'd thought about it more times than was healthy. He'd kept those feelings to himself and poured out his grief and rage in body-racking sobs each night. Soaking one of Rose's pillowcases with his tears while he cried, then masturbating in a desperate attempt to reconnect with her. He knew he wasn't the only one who cried. Her death cut the clan to the core of their being. She was their heart, their hope for the future.
It was one of those things they didn't discuss; doing so would release the floodgates holding back all the grief and anger pent up from centuries of loss. Their homes and cities destroyed; family, friends, and lovers gone forever. When one was generally long-lived, forever was a very long time. Joining them in death…
Cristían swallowed against the pain. A coward's way out or a merciful end? He shook the darkness away. Death would mean a complete loss of hope. He refused to accept it. Two friends helped keep him whole. He wouldn't lay grief over his death upon their shoulders. Jeremy and Lupe deserved better than that.
He couldn't say when he took that step away from the dark abyss or what prompted his new plan. At some point, he realized Lupe had given him a reason to live, and Jeremy, the faith to try. Once he set foot on that path—remaining alive—nothing deterred him. What was the sense of having a state-of-the-art laboratory if not to use it to its fullest potential? New hope bolstered his morale, followed quickly by one failure after the other. He carried on, though, determined to find the solution, to continue setting measures in place for success.
He'd resurrect Rose or die trying.
“Brrrow?”
Smiling, he glanced down at the calico cat threading herself between his legs. Lupe truly had been his lifeline to sanity these last months. They'd met one day when he was helping Wyatt and Trina Caldwell move. Lupe had let Cristían know in no uncertain terms that she deemed him worthy enough of her attention. Cristían had bought Trina's old house, and Lupe moved in with him. However, neither of them had seen the place in months. The lab he currently did his research in had become their sanctuary; the sprawling mansion above it, their home.
He hated the cavernous house but loved the superior, high-tech lab. And it didn't take Cristían long to realize why Jer
emy Gibson had moved into the house—why go home when everything you needed was right here?
It probably wasn't the wisest decision to have a cat in a lab, but Lupe was her own feline and would have her way. It helped that she was respectful of the experiments he and Jeremy worked on. Lupe's presence helped him and Jeremy deal with any residual loneliness and isolation as well, though that was nonexistent with his best friend by his side 24-7.
Lupe made sure they ate, comforted them when disappointment dragged them both down, and best of all, gave them unconditional love. All she demanded in return was affection, food, and to sleep in one of their beds. She never failed to make him smile or lift his spirits, and she was better than any girlfriend he'd ever had.
Cristían squatted down to her level. She batted the buttons on his lab coat, then tapped her paw against his chin. “No worries, little warrior.” He smiled when he said her nickname. The little cat had earned the title honorably when she'd fought a member of the mountain lion clan and won, paws down. Of course, that made her not very popular with that faction of shape-shifters, but to Cristían's jaguar clan, Lupe could do no wrong.
“What the hell is that cat doing in here?”
Cristían stiffened. Okay, perhaps one member of the jaguar clan wasn't a Lupe fan. Barry Page had always had his weasel-faced snout stuck so far in the rules that he shit protocol. Cristían watched as he trotted down the stairs and stormed their way. The loose black trousers Barry wore rippled under his forceful stride, the matching shirt molding to his torso. The color rarely varied. Barry claimed it helped remind him of his true self and their heritage, suggesting he was the only one who did so.
Lupe arched into the hand Cristían ran over her back, then cast her sage green gaze in Barry's direction and instantly dismissed him with a flick of her tail. Cristían tried not to laugh. He'd flicked his jaguar tail at Barry more times than he could count over their long association. Barry just wasn't someone he was eager to see.
“Leave her alone, Barry.” Distracted as always, Jeremy still didn't hesitate to come to Lupe's defense. He was always so quiet, so focused on his work, that Cristían usually forgot he was in the same room with him.
As Jeremy's reward, Lupe slinked his way and twined herself around his legs. “You're my best girl, Lups.” Jeremy gave her head a quick rub.
Barry snorted. “She's your only girl. You never leave the estate.”
“Everything I want is here, and I've got a hand that does just fine for personal tension.” Jeremy held up two beakers, one with clear liquid, the other, blue-green, studying them under ultraviolet light. “I'm on a roll here, and women have a tendency to sidetrack me.”
Cristían had never seen a man more determined to prove or disprove his own theory. Jeremy's dedication matched Cristían's. They shared the lab—Jeremy on one end of the long stainless steel counter, Cristían on the other—bounced theories off each other, and never once called the other one to task for seeking answers.
Barry picked a long blond hair from his sleeve, grimaced, then fed it to the flame on Jeremy's Bunsen burner. “Then maybe you should try a man.”
Jeremy grinned and watched the thickening liquids swirl in their glass containers. “Who says I haven't? You offering?”
That was a door Jeremy really didn't want to open. Barry could get…possessive. Cristían knew that from experience. In a clan whose numbers were dwindling, one got relief where one could, or went outside the clan, something Barry would never do. Barry didn't necessarily take what he wanted, but once he got something, he wasn't inclined to let go.
Jeremy poured a drop of blue-green liquid into the clear. “I could go for a blowjob. Just make sure you zip me up when you're done.”
Cristían smothered his laugh. It came out a sputtered snicker instead and earned him Barry's infamous snake-eyed glare.
“Whoa. Didn't expect that.” Jeremy drew back from the beaker he held. Lupe craned her neck for a look at what he was talking about. His concoction was now a small vortex of purple and gold. He poured the contents of both beakers into a larger one. He lifted the container to the light, his grin widening. The vortex grew, spinning faster. Pinpoints of glowing white flecked within. “It looks like a tiny nebula or galaxy. A star factory.”
“Just make sure it's only yourself you blow up when that shit explodes,” Barry said.
“And deprive you of the pleasure that is me?” Jeremy's grin widened more, his brown eyes glimmering. “Never.”
Lupe meowed and rubbed hard against him.
“Jealous, puss?” Barry laughed when she growled at him.
“Don't call her that.” Cristían watched the centrifuge's timer count down the final ten. “She doesn't like it.”
“What's wrong, puss? Don't like a little competition?” Barry swiped for her, grabbing her tail when Lupe tried to dodge him.
“Let her go!” Her yowl barely covered his and Jeremy's protests.
She hissed and rolled onto her back, claws and teeth bared. Jeremy kicked Barry's shoulder, sloshing his experiment on the floor. It splashed onto Lupe. She whirled around, eyes wide with fear. Barry grabbed the scruff of her neck and hoisted her into the air, holding the spitting little cat at arm's length.
Cristían and Jeremy took a step in his direction. However, as Cristían was more than aware, Lupe was completely capable of defending herself. She swung her lower legs up and speared her back claws into Barry's forearm. He screeched and let her go. Lupe landed on all fours. She gave him a dismissive chuff and a flick of her tail, then tucked behind Cristían's legs to clean her fur.
“If you had more experience with women, that might not have happened.” Cristían couldn't resist the jab. Barry deserved the rebuke and the bloody claw marks going down his arm. Cristían scooped Lupe into his arms. “It's probably not a good idea to lick that, little one. Let's get you cleaned up. No water. I promise.”
She purred and kneaded her paws into his chest. The centrifuge beeped out the end of its cycle. Great. His own experiment was ready for the next step. Lupe curled herself around his neck, leaving his hands free. He popped the top on the device and lifted out the tray of vials.
“I see there's no offer to help me.” Barry snagged a wad of paper towels from the stack on the opposite counter and dabbed at his wounds.
“You had it coming.” Cristían watched Jeremy study the glowing mass. Judging from his frown, it looked like another failure. The solution appeared to be losing momentum. Cristían felt his pain. He'd thought for sure Jeremy had had the breakthrough he'd been looking for.
“I'd say 'fuck you,' but I wouldn't want either of you to get your hopes up.” Barry pressed the towels against his arm.
“Our loss. More's the pity.” Cristían set the vials beside the petri dishes he'd prepared earlier, then carried Lupe over to the sink counter against the wall to wipe her fur. “Did you come down here for a reason or just to harass us about our work again?”
Barry smacked the paper towels into the biohazard trash can and stomped his way. “Your cougar's waiting for you upstairs.”
Frieda was there? This early in the morning? Was the sun even up yet? What the hell could she possibly want this time of day? She was a beautiful woman, but gods, was she a pain in the ass. If he didn't need her for the next phase of his experiment, he would have ended it long ago. Hell, he never would have become involved with her in the first place. Beauty only went so far; the woman had no substance.
“Mountain lion, Barry. Have a little respect. You know they're very picky about their name.”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. Mountain lion, cougar, puma. Lupe or puss.”
Lupe growled at him. Barry wasn't making any friends here today.
“Who gives a fuck? She's not happy you've kept her waiting, and she sure as hell can't keep her hands to herself. She was all over me.”
Typical Frieda. That's why it was so easy to lure her into his bed. She had the morals of an alley cat, not the bearing of a potential queen.
“I'm not very thrilled that one of them is at this estate.”
Cristían blotted a heavy paper towel over Lupe's thick fur. Deep purrs rumbled up. “It's part of the treaty the clans agreed to. The treaty you helped broker, remember?” Unrestricted access to everything the other possessed—and that included communal homes like the former Prentice estate—and all technology.
They were supposed to be open books to each other, in the hope their clans could benefit from one another's knowledge and grow and survive. It was only a matter of time before they all started working in each other's labs. Cristían hated the idea. They could use the lab at the Braden Science Institute all they wanted, but he sure as hell didn't want to be rubbing elbows with them at this lab. Here there was the luxury of privacy. Neither he nor Jeremy wanted to give that up. Not even to the jaguar clan. Considering Barry's near-constant presence, Cristían suspected tensions and suspicions were mounting at Braden over their exclusive use of the Prentice lab. It could be worse. Fortunately, Wyatt and Joaquin were too busy with business and babies. However, that left the worrying and grunt work to Barry.
“Yeah, I know all too well. Trust me, I'm monitoring the situation.” Barry leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. Lupe turned her back to him. “I don't like Frieda up there unsupervised. What if she comes down here?”
“They've all been down here before, and experiments are frequent on both sides of the fence. They won't know what we're doing.” Cristían parted Lupe's fur, chasing a drop that wiggled down to her skin. She sat down with a resigned sigh and started to clean Barry's blood off her paws.
“Do either of you know what you're doing?” Barry snapped his finger toward Jeremy. “Our Mensa genius is over there trying to disprove his own theory that celestial impacts helped create us shape-shifters in the first place. There are some who would view that as blasphemy. It's a slap in the face to all that our people revere.”
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