What he would do.
He shifted his shoulder, the single evidence of discomfort from his arm, and spoke to them in inexorable tones. “Now leave me alone, so I can try to save some lives. Or else come at me now and get it over with. Because if I have to come at you, I’m going to do it as fast as I can, and at least one of you is never getting up again.”
Ana believed him. She thought the men believed him, too. They exchanged a look, took a step back...
A single step.
Early morning along a scarce-used road, and they stood in a standoff. One man dying in the yard, the Sentinels within and Ian at the end of his patience. No longer willing to coddle them along, or spare them from what he intended.
Ana drew a sharp breath as his gaze went inward, recognizing the nascent flicker of energy and light that came with that focus. She glanced along the road in alarm, but quickly realized that of course Ian had already checked and knew the area was clear.
For the moment.
By then the energy had blossomed into full light, crackling strobes that lashed and tangled, snapping out to touch Ana. She flinched and cried out—but only for that first instant.
For that touch had been soft. It had been a mere whisper of light and presence, and it left her arm tingling with an unexpected pleasure as Ian emerged.
Leopard.
The men bit off curses and stepped back—not so much flight as strategic retreat, repositioning to support each other and reaching for the weapons they’d not yet employed.
Ana lifted her gun, sure enough of her aim at this range so she didn’t need to fake her confidence. “You’ll want to drop those,” she said, and of all the choices she’d made recently, of all the confusion she’d faced with them, this one left her no qualms. Protecting Ian from those who would do him harm simply because they felt entitled to interfere.
Not so different from the way Lerche had behaved. Or from the other things the Core at large had done, things they never revealed to those such as Ana.
The men hesitated on dropping their guns, of course. Enough so that Ian lowered his head, crouching slightly.
One leap and he’d be on them.
“Over here, by the wall,” Ana told them. “And then you sit down.” When they still hesitated, she felt her patience snap. “Quit being such babies. You came, you stuck your noses in and it isn’t working out. Deal with it! We don’t care if you walk away in the end—we only want to be left alone.”
Not so different from the sentiments Ian had expressed about the Core.
A car turned onto the lane, moving without haste, its tires crunching slowly over the scattered gravel.
“Ian,” Ana said. But of course he’d noticed it. A swift blur of movement and he crouched low to the ground near the gate, his tail still, his body flattened behind the clump of towering hollyhocks.
The men moved, too, angling themselves off the bumper of the SUV and using their considerable size to block any casual view of Ana and the man she sat on. Of course, she realized. They didn’t want outside interference any more than the Core or Sentinels did. They wanted to enact their vigilante excesses without the inconvenience of legal oversight.
The car curved slowly out of sight, obscured by the high wall of the adjoining property.
The men darted forward at Ana, moving before Ian did.
Or thinking they had.
He was a streak of pale beauty and flowing tail, knocking Ana aside and bounding to intervene. His paws flashed and Ana cried out, having seen more violence in this single day than she’d seen in her entire life. One man went down beneath the thrusting impact of his attack, grunting hard and fighting back—as if there was anything to fight. Ian had already doubled back on himself to leap at the man who hesitated on the trigger of his gun, unable to fire without hitting his buddy.
Down they went, and this time the victim fought back, slamming his gun against the side of Ian’s head.
Hurting him.
“Stop it!” Ana screamed, not knowing if she spoke to Ian or to the men he’d attacked. “Stop it!”
She hadn’t meant for the gun to go off. She screamed when it did—startled at the sound and the recoil, horrified that she could have pulled the trigger without meaning to...relieved as dirt chipped up in response. Only the road...
The men froze. Ian froze, too—but just for the merest instant before he bounded away, suddenly back beside the wall with his whiskers lifted in a silent snarl and no weakness to be seen.
Ana leaped up to stomp on the fallen gunman’s hand with both feet, stumbling back when he shouted in pain and then dashing forward just long enough to wrench the weapon away from fingers that no longer quite held it.
The man was too busy realizing himself still alive to fight over the piece. And Ana was too staggered to search for the other gun. For Ian had pounced, and he’d taken them down, but he’d left no blood in his wake. She could still feel the terror where his fur had brushed her on the way past, but...
No blood. No claws.
More civilized than they were. Than all of them. Maybe even more civilized than Ana herself—having the power, wielding it and walking away.
Ana had pulled the trigger.
A strained new voice broke their silence. “Ian!”
For all the effort behind that voice, it barely carried out of the yard—but it still got everyone’s instant attention.
Shea sat on his knees in the doorway of the retreat, slumped against the door frame, scowling hard. “For fuck’s sake,” he said. “Get away from the fucking yard. There’s a silent—”
Ana ran up to the wall—but didn’t touch it. Didn’t get nearly close enough for that. “Are you all right? What about the others?”
Shea laughed, a harsh sound. “Fuck, no, we’re not all right. Never saw it coming. Lyn’s down hard... Jet, I dunno... Ruger’s trying. Got shields up then, but...too late. Can’t hold them much longer. No idea about this poor fuck.” He gestured at the prone figure in the yard. Then he tipped his head and looked directly at Ana across the distance, his gaze a shock of accusation. “Did you do this?”
Ana recoiled. “No!”
Shea slumped a little farther, straightening with obvious effort. “Just stay away,” he said, sounding weary. “We never saw it coming. Fucking silents...can’t be found. Maybe Lyn, but she’s...” He glanced over his shoulder and didn’t finish the thought. Didn’t have to.
Not nearly far enough away, the snow leopard growled.
No, not growled. Just a sound in his throat. Inquiring.
Ana stood suddenly straighter. “We can find them!” she said. “Ian can do it! He’s got them figured out!”
Shea lifted the head that had started to droop. “Has he, now? Irony, that. Because all his isolation gear is in the house, isn’t it?”
Ana had no idea what that meant, in particular. But she knew that Ian had had hope and intent, and she clung to that. “We’ll find them,” she told Shea. “You just hang on. All of you!”
Shea didn’t respond, slumped where he was, and Ana realized he’d passed out. She bit her lip, looking back over her shoulder to the two men just now climbing to their feet. They looked stunned, their faces red from the blows they’d taken, a few scratches trickling blood.
She readjusted her grip on the gun she’d never dropped. “Just leave us alone,” she said. “We’re trying to save them. To save your friend, too, if we can.”
The one man cradled his hand. The other had relocated the loose gun, but held it low...and then he raised both hands slightly in capitulation. He slowly returned the gun to the flat holster inside his waistband, nodding at her clenched grip on her own weapon. “Nothing as dangerous as a gun in the hands of someone with a trigger finger like yours.”
That, she thought, was likely true.
&n
bsp; “But watch yourself,” the other man said. “Because we’re sure as hell going to be keeping track.”
But Ian had already moved on, pacing to the corner of the yard with a stalking grace even as the wounded leg gave way slightly beneath him. He crouched to let another car pass by and lingered there, his ears canted back in focus.
After a moment he just barely turned the corner, hesitating there, and then returned to his original spot, reaching a large paw to the adobe wall and extruding claws to leave the most deliberate of marks.
Triangulation. Just as he would have done with the amulet in her shoulder, if they hadn’t found it through dead reckoning.
Then he paced on down the wall, paralleling the extended driveway. It split to enter the retreat property while the other branch continued to the undeveloped property beyond; he stayed with the retreat fence line, finishing the section of latilla fencing and moving onward to the idiosyncratic corner of tall adobe. Ana followed at a distance, pausing when he did and moving on as he did, and altogether too painfully aware that the interlopers trailed her once they’d dragged their stunned friend behind the SUV where he wouldn’t draw attention. Their low conversation revealed that the man was coming back to himself—that they felt he would be back in the game soon enough.
Also not reassuring.
But then, here she was following in the wake of a man no longer human, a beast the likes of which she’d always been warned against. She’d defied her direct superior, she’d contributed to the death of her fellow Core members, and Nick Carter was on his way. So she was about to find herself a captive of either the Southwest Brevis Consul himself, or the unknown organization that wanted to do away with them all. Unless she escaped, in which case the Core would no doubt hunt her down.
Reassuring wasn’t even an option.
Chapter 17
Ian padded unevenly along the fence line. He had the taste of this particular working, now—knew it to be destructive and indiscriminate, a powerful thing that would simply suck the life out of anything within its bounds. He narrowed his focus, searching swiftly—sending energy out, waiting for the response, moving onward to triangulate.
He’d found two amulets so far, both at the eastern corners of the enclosed property. He very much expected to find two more at the western corners, once he’d circumvented the adjoining property along that side. And though his heart beat hard and fast with fear for the Sentinels trapped inside, he felt the thrill of the moment, too. At the potential unfolding before him.
Because anyone skilled at sending and receiving subtle energies could be trained to perform this kind of search. It wouldn’t take Ian’s skill; it wouldn’t take Lyn’s talent. It wouldn’t even take an AmTech team.
Got you, he thought at the Core. Got you good and hard. The silent amulet code was broken; the amulets themselves would no longer be the ever-looming threat they’d become.
It was a short-lived thrill. Finding today’s amulets didn’t come close to disabling them. The greater work was yet to be done.
And it was a thrill diminished by Ana’s expression as he’d charged past to defend her on the road—her unthinking terror at the brush of his fur.
Not to mention a thrill diminished by the presence of the two men still following behind along with Ana, making no attempt to interfere. Yet. Ian wasn’t sure if they’d been convinced, scared or simply bided their time.
He skirted the back of the enclosed area, moving swiftly now in spite of his limp—the third amulet already targeted and pinging back its sly stench at his ongoing outreach. To the south, behind the house, lay a patch of undeveloped land, grown up in junipers and tall high prairie grasses—here, the two men waited, keeping their distance and still keeping their eyes on Ian. One of them snapped a phone closed and slipped it away; Ian could only hope that if it was a call for reinforcements, they’d be some time in getting here.
Two outbuildings snugged up against the high section of adobe wall at the corner, and then the wall fell away to nothing more than a token rail fence. At the juncture of the adobe and rail, dark metal gleamed.
The third corner. Ian knew where he’d find the final amulet—off in the clumpy weeds in the other back corner of the property, just inside this same rail fence.
It told him everything he needed to know.
He might not be able to disengage the working, and he might not have his isolation equipment, but with a boundary-enclosed working like this one, the fastest solution was simply to bring all the amulets together and let them run down together.
Simple. He growled softly to himself. Not so simple at all, when there was no safe way to touch the things or to move them. Without nullifying tools, the amulet would conduct through any buffer—metal faster than wood, wood faster than rubber.
He crouched outside the fence, tail flicking. A shovel from the shed might do it, if he moved quickly. Start at the far corner, scoop up the diminutive amulet, run counterclockwise from around the corners and dump all the amulets with the one in the front west corner, leaving them until they could be dealt with. They might even run out quickly. The Core couldn’t afford to leave an undiscriminating working of this magnitude lying around.
Ana moved up beside him, looking over the fence with him—surprising him with her nearness. Ian slid a paw under the lowest rail, pointing it at the amulet. It took all his control to resist cat impulse—the slap of a stunning paw, the flick of small prey into the weeds—
A car on gravel. Someone comes. His tidy ears snapped forward—and then flat. A car on the lane was nothing; a car coming up the long drive was very much something. Nick, I told you to hang back.
But it wasn’t Nick.
It was a gleaming high-end SUV, a thing with more luxury than utility. And black, here where the strong sun made such things a constant folly. Not a Sentinel vehicle at all.
Ana made an uneasy sound. “Ian...”
The SUV came on with an inconsiderate speed, spitting gravel against the latilla fence and slewing slightly around the bend. Even through the darkened windows, Ian recognized the occupants—Budian behind the wheel and Lerche in the passenger seat.
No time to become the human and grab a shovel; no time to gather amulets. Ian faced the vehicle with his ears slanted back and his tail flicking into cold anger, crouching just enough to make his intentions plain—he could and would take them down at the first sign of threat.
No matter that the Core would simply use such an incident to decry his lack of humanity.
Lerche disembarked with stiff discomfort, his arm in a snug sling. He had no amulets, silent or otherwise. A quick check revealed that he—and Budian and the car—were entirely clean.
Lerche had learned that much, it seemed.
It meant only they’d have other weapons to hand. Budian hadn’t yet done more than open his door, and it was to him that Ian looked for trouble.
Lerche held out his good hand to Ana. “Come, my dear. Time for you to return home.”
Ana didn’t move. “You didn’t come here for me. I don’t matter that much.”
“It’s true, I’m also here to clean up this mess before the drozhar arrives.” Lerche let his hand drop. “But you’re also wrong again, I’m afraid. It matters very much to me what happens to you. And how.”
Ana’s voice came stronger. “Only because if someone’s going to hurt me—to kill me—you think it should be you.”
Lerche smiled. The smug cruelty behind it made Ian want to slap the expression right off his face, claws extended and sharp. He quivered with the effort of holding his place, whiskers bristling and a growl growing in his throat.
Lerche said, “You are exactly correct, my dear—you personally matter to me not at all. But no one else has the right to touch what’s mine. You should have considered that before you allowed yourself to care for this Sentinel.
You sealed his fate with your actions.”
Ana made a noise that might have been taken from Ian’s leopard. “I don’t care for him,” she said, moving closer than Ian had ever expected of her.
Not while he was leopard. Beast.
Ana rested a startling hand behind one leopard ear, her fingers sinking into deep, plush fur. “I don’t care for him,” she repeated. “I love him.”
The peace of her touch flowed through him, open in a way he hadn’t yet felt. More than just calming, but full of Ana. Full of everything that Ian needed in that moment.
He moved, putting himself between Lerche and Ana—perfectly aware of her trembling, and even more aware of the fact that she leaned into him instead of away from him.
Lerche’s face darkened. “Maybe you think you do,” he said. With his restless motion came the scent of gun oil. “Had we more time, I would show you the error of those ways. But the drozhar is coming, and I expect the Tucson Sentinels are, too.”
Budian said something from inside the car, too muffled for even Ian’s keen ears to catch. Lerche looked sharply over his shoulder. “Ah,” he said. “Already here, I see. Well, we should get on with it, then. Before the beasts work up their nerve.”
“They’re not Sentinel.” Ana’s voice had an angry edge pushing behind its tremulous note. “Did you and the others think you could keep pushing and attacking and hurting people without drawing attention? Because if you did, you were wrong. You were wrong about everything, and you were really, really wrong about me! I’m not yours, I’m mine. And if I want to give everything of myself to Ian, I’ll do it.”
“By all means,” Lerche said, straightening the edge of his sling, hand lingering there—and then reaching within. “Just as I do what you’ve forced me to do.”
Such a perfect place to secure a gun, that sling.
Ian gave Lerche only enough time to dip his hand into the sling before he leaped—a single reaching bound, a hard impact—
Sentinels: Leopard Enchanted Page 24