“I’ll try talking with her first. If that doesn’t work, I’ll keep your suggestion in mind.”
* * * * *
Amara flowed with the crowd streaming out of the council hall and quickly disappeared into the surrounding forest. Her mind was buzzing with all the possibilities and complications arising from this new development. If the cat clans stopped arguing with each other and joined forces against common enemies, it could be very bad for her and Izak. They’d managed to elude the rebel leopards, largely because there were so few of them. If the village cats joined the search, it would only be a matter of time before they were caught and punished for their misdeeds.
Anxious to share her worries with Izak, Amara freed her animal self and shifted into a lithe young tigress. Their hideout was deep in a mountain canyon, not far from the perimeter fortification. She padded along a rocky streambed then zigzagged through the trees. She was relatively certain no one was following her, but she didn’t want to leave a discernable trail.
The acrid scent of fear hung heavy in the air as she climbed toward the cave’s narrow entrance. She picked her way carefully on paws more suited to climbing trees than canyon walls. In fact, unless circumstances left no other choice, she preferred to stay on the ground.
She darted into the cave and paused. The metallic tang of blood scented the air along with fear’s bitter tinge. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness and she spotted the source of the smells. Huddled against the back wall of the cave, Izak’s pet trembled and moaned. A manacle around his ankle was connected to a stake driven into the cave’s floor and the iron band around his neck kept him from shifting into a timber wolf. Locked in human form, he was forced to endure the wounds Izak inflicted on a regular basis.
Izak stood near the fire pit, but he hadn’t bothered to greet her. His gaze gleamed in the dimness as he waited for her next move. “It’s about time you got back. I’ve been waiting forever.” Surly and petulant were Izak’s favorite moods and today he’d managed to combine the two.
Satisfied that there was no danger, Amara released her shift and donned the dress she’d left near the cave’s entrance. “Keep this up and you’ll wear out your new toy.”
“Then you’ll have to go catch me a new one.” He shrugged and turned back to the flames. “I don’t see the problem.” A wedge-shaped crevice in the cavern wall worked well to vent the smoke. Even so, Izak was careful to keep the fires small.
“It’s not nearly as simple as you make it sound, and things are about to get a whole lot more complicated.” If there had been any other option left for Amara, she wouldn’t have turned to Izak. He was unlikable and cruel, but he was also her only hope for something better. Fertility equaled power in morph society and Izak had fourteen siblings. All of his brothers and sisters had strong, healthy offspring, so Amara had high hopes for Izak.
Her own attempts at breeding had been heartbreaking. Her mate had set her aside after her third pregnancy resulted in stillborn cubs. If Izak’s seed proved strong enough to overcome her weakness, there was a small chance she could find another mate, or at least be tolerated by the fertile females.
In the meantime, she was stuck with Izak and his ever-increasing hunger for cruelty. They’d played with the dog together the first night, and Amara had to admit she’d enjoyed their games. Releasing her pent-up frustration had been wonderfully cathartic, but Izak’s impulses ran deeper and darker than hers.
“What do you mean things are going to get more complicated? What did you learn during your foray into the village?”
She hadn’t realized he was paying attention. He often lapsed into silence for hours, ignoring her entirely. “When I arrived the village seemed deserted. I thought maybe there had been some sort of raid. But everyone was crowded into the council hall.”
“Why? What was the meeting about?”
“Apparently DOMA is still creating hybrids. One of the guards triggered mating fever in Grant and when they had sex --”
“She morphed?” He sounded skeptical, so she merely nodded. Arguing with him was a waste of time. “I’d heard stories about his father, that he could trigger transformation with his seed. I had no idea Grant had inherited the ability.”
“They must have known it was going to happen. They had cameras running when she transformed for the first time.”
“Or they just wanted to watch themselves screw.” He smirked, obviously amused by the idea. “Does DOMA know about the recording?”
“Everyone knows. They leaked it to the public domain somehow, and it’s being reposted faster than DOMA can pull it down.”
She had his full attention now. His features tensed and his hands clenched. “How has DOMA explained the vid?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think they’ve had time to spin it.”
“Then what was the purpose of the meeting?”
“Maddox wants to use the public outcry as a bargaining chip with the handlers. The exact terms have yet to be determined, but mainly he wants all the various cat clans to band together and apply pressure at the same time. He’s even going to try and recruit the rebels.”
“We can’t let that happen. If they stop fighting amongst themselves, I’m a dead man.”
“As long as they’re focused on the handlers, you should be safe enough. But I understand your concern.”
“Dyauna won’t stop hunting me until she knows I’m dead. Her limited resources are all that’s kept me alive so far. If she has Barbary scouts at her disposal…” He heaved a ragged sigh and shook his head. “We can’t let this alliance happen.”
“I agree. Unity spells nothing but trouble for us. But how do we prevent it?”
He scratched his chin, gaze narrowed and cunning. “The alternative is surrender, so I’ll think of something.”
Chapter Two
“Call me when the fighting starts,” Dyauna offered. “I’m always happy to kick handler ass.” Frustration rolled across Maddox’s handsome features. He’d been trying to convince her to join his farce of an uprising for almost an hour and the conversation had ceased to be amusing about ten minutes ago.
“I’m not ruling out aggression,” he said carefully. “It’s just important that we exhaust every non-violent avenue before we use physical motivation.”
She laughed and tossed the stick she’d been fiddling with into the fire. They were standing in the large common room of the series of caverns the rebels had claimed as their own. Her people were offering them as much privacy as the situation allowed. Ordinarily she would have taken him outside for this sort of conversation, but the late afternoon had opened up into a seasonal downpour that would likely last well into the night.
“I knew they’d clipped your claws down in the village, but I hadn’t realized you’d been neutered as well.”
“Very funny,” he growled, his tone assuring her he found the comment anything but amusing.
“I wasn’t trying to be funny.” She moved toward him, head held high, knowing he wouldn’t back down. “There was a time, not that long ago, when the name Maddox commanded respect. You used to be a regular badass. What the hell happened to you?”
His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared before he recovered enough to speak. “Violence invites violence, and the handlers hold all the cards. We’re outnumbered, out gunned, and --”
“Outclassed? Is that at the heart of your hesitation? Have you been their pet so long you think they’re better than we are?”
“I’m trying to prevent a slaughter,” he snapped. “We can use the public outcry as motivation to negotiate --”
“Never retreat. Never surrender. I’m through negotiating with those bastards.” She tossed her hair over her shoulders and motioned toward the cave’s entrance. “And I’m through listening to this bullshit. Enjoy the rain.”
He stared at her for a long, silent moment, green eyes shimmering in the firelight. Then he shifted in a fluid rush, bounding out into the soggy twilight while his exasperated roar echoed off
the cavern walls.
“Why do you insist on provoking him?” Grant strode toward her, Sasha at his side.
“I provoke everyone.”
“True, but you’re particularly prickly whenever Maddox is around.”
Dyauna shrugged with a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “I have this thing about unfulfilled potential. You should understand. I harassed you until you accepted that you were meant for more than being your grandfather’s lackey.”
“I was never my grandfather’s lackey.” He didn’t seem overly offended by the slight. Still, he chuckled and shook his head. “So what grand potential is Maddox squandering?”
“Where would I begin?” The wistfulness in her voice revealed more than she had intended. She needed to change the subject fast.
“How long were you two together?” Sasha asked with a knowing smile.
Dyauna shot her an annoyed glance and ignored the question. “He said response to the recording has been volatile. DOMA has been issuing cease and desist orders while they scramble for a way to explain the transformation.”
“It won’t take them long to explain it all away,” Grant predicted. “We have to be ready with stage two.”
Dyauna arched her brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t realize there was a stage two.”
“We used a fictitious outbreak of a nonexistent virus to explain why Sasha and I had to be quarantined. Grandfather pretended to check Sasha’s team and all of the emergency responders for this virus.”
“Pretended to check?” Dyauna echoed. “What was he really screening for?”
“Genetic manipulation. Step two is proving to the world that Sasha is not an isolated case. Grandfather sent his findings along with the vid of Sasha. His contact is supposed to wait until the fervor starts to die down and then release the new file. DOMA will claim the findings were falsified, but we hope it will make enough people suspicious that they’ll start having their DNA checked for themselves.”
“Is there a stage three?”
“We have several ideas, but nothing is set in stone.”
She was more intrigued by the recent events than she was willing to reveal. Having the village cats focused on disruptive strategies brought them closer to her way of thinking than they had ever been before. Still, as long as Maddox was insistent on talk, there was no way they could collaborate. She had nothing to say to the handlers, no compromise she was willing to make.
“I’ll be right back,” Grant told his mate. “Warm up by the fire. The air is getting cold.”
Dyauna moved over, making room for Sasha at her side. “He coddles you. You need to demonstrate your strength so he’ll back off.”
Sasha chuckled, a light effervescent sound. “I happen to like the way he ‘coddles’ me. I don’t want him to back off.”
“This isn’t the village, and it’s not the human world. Depending on the strength of others will get you killed.” Dyauna had learned the hard way never to depend on anyone but herself.
“I am not helpless,” Sasha stressed. “I’d never stand around waiting to be rescued, but some situations require teamwork rather than individual strength.”
Dyauna didn’t argue. In her opinion teamwork encouraged mediocrity and discouraged personal responsibility. When each person succeeded or failed on their own merits, it was a far better motivator.
“Do you have a mate or consort among your followers?”
Dyauna glanced at Sasha, debating what to say. Even surrounded by followers, Dyauna was always alone, separated from the others by a role she’d forged through sheer stubbornness. “I realized at a very young age that my life path would be unique. Emotional attachments have never appealed to me.”
“Really?” Sasha pivoted toward her, dark gaze sharp and assessing. “What made your life path unique?”
“I’m a half-breed. My father was leopard, my mother lioness.”
“Then you’re unable to --”
“I’m barren, so I had to prove my worth in other ways. I became more aggressive and more daring than anyone else until they had no choice but to acknowledge my skill.”
“I see.”
“I don’t think you do.” Dyauna spotted a flash of pity before Sasha averted her gaze. “Half-breed females are passed from male to male. Some are left to starve when they lose their physical appeal. They scavenge for food or become servants to fertile females. I had no intention of living like that.”
“So you became a soldier?”
“I knew I’d have to fight for everything I wanted. This vocation just made the most sense.”
By the time Sasha looked at her again, the pity had been replaced by curiosity. “Do you consider yourself a leopard or a lioness?”
“I shift into a leopard, but I can’t reproduce, so such distinctions are irrelevant.”
They lapsed into silence for a time. Dyauna stared into the fire, feeling hollow and alone. She’d abandoned the dreams of youth long ago, but discussions like this sent echoes of longing reverberating through her soul.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” she lied. “My life is what it is. No amount of wishing will change it.” Unable to maintain her bland expression, Dyauna turned toward the cave’s opening. “The rain is letting up. I’m going to check the perimeter.”
* * * * *
Maddox stood in the relative shelter of a leafy tree staring up at the cavern’s entrance. He was infuriated and freezing, but he couldn’t make himself turn around and head back to the village. Neutered? Did Dyauna honestly think he’d lost his nerve? It took discipline and determination to remain calm in the face of all this conflict. The predator in him demanded that he take action, urging him to brawl at every turn. He wasn’t afraid to fight, far from it. He just wanted the fight to accomplish more than bloodshed and mayhem.
He took a deep breath and mentally prepared for the next act in this melodrama. Suspecting the meeting wouldn’t result in Dyauna’s cooperation, he’d come prepared for Plan B. He’d used a backpack to transport what he’d need, and he’d stashed the pack in some bushes while he went to talk with the feisty rebel leader.
Dressed now in a pair of faded jeans, he tightened his right hand around a small dart gun. The tranquilizer would bring down her cat if he couldn’t snag her in human form. But the flexible metal band in his left hand was a far better option. If he could snap the band closed around her neck, it would keep her from shifting until their dispute had been resolved. The band had no mystic properties. It was simply strong enough to withstand the pressure of transformation. If she chose to shift, the band would strangle her, so it was doubtful she’d test its effectiveness.
As if summoned by his frustration, Dyauna appeared in the opening. She paused, looked up at the cloudy sky, and then shifted, hurrying down the slope leading away from the rebels’ hideout. He tucked the dart gun into the back of his pants, and stepped out in front of her before she could build up too much momentum. Her paws skidded across the rain-slicked ground, and she growled in protest of the abrupt halt.
“We need to talk.” He did his best to sound assertive without provoking her. He wouldn’t reveal his true intentions until he had her secured in the relay station.
After a momentary pause, she released her shift, transforming from cat to woman in a smooth, flowing motion. She stood before him naked, unashamed and glaring. “You might need to talk. I need to run off this frustration before I take it out on someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
“Why don’t we take it out on each other?” Before she could react to his suggestion, he uncoiled the band with a violent flick of his wrist and slapped it against the side of her throat. The band wrapped around her neck like an obedient snake, and he quickly squeezed the ends shut.
“What are you… Where did you get a suppression collar? Take it off! Right now!” She frantically felt for the clasp, determined to release the band. It wouldn’t do any good. Only a pulse from the remote woul
d deactivate the catch and the remote was safely stashed in the pack, which was once again strapped to his back.
He grabbed her upper arm and dragged her deeper into the trees. She was distracted by the band, as he knew she would be, so she didn’t anticipate his next move. He withdrew a min-hypo from his pocket and pressed it against her upper arm. Disbelief widened her eyes and then they rolled back in her head.
Her legs crumpled beneath her, and he swept her up in his arms. He cradled her against his chest for a moment, making sure she was out cold. Then he swung her to his shoulder, wrapped his arm snugly around her legs, and headed off through the trees at a determined jog.
* * * * *
Reality returned in stages. Dyauna wrinkled her nose. Why was she surrounded by the scent of humans? Where the hell was she?
She blinked repeatedly, trying to focus through the light glaring in her eyes. Hadn’t it been night just a moment ago? How long had she been unconscious?
She’d been arguing with Maddox. Then he’d slapped a suppression collar around her neck. She forced her eyes open, determined to ascertain her situation.
“Welcome back.” He sat in a chair beside the bunk on which she lay. He held out a foil packet and a bottle of water. “Take this. It will help with the headache.”
Unable to think past the pounding in her head, she didn’t bother arguing. She lifted her hand to take the packet, and her other hand came along for the ride. Shit! He’d bound her wrists with metal handcuffs, which were attached to the frame of the bed by a length of chain.
“You are one twisted son of a bitch. Has anyone ever told you that?” A semi-verbal sound was his only reply. Still, if the sudden quirk of his lips were any indication, he didn’t object to the label. She opened the packet and popped the tablet into her mouth. He handed her the water and she drank deeply. “That light is killing me.” She shaded her eyes with her hand.
United Passion Page 2