Her Perfect Mate

by Paige Tyler

  Tears burned her eyes. What if the Frenchman was telling the truth? That would mean that Landon, the one man in the whole world who knew what she was and cared about her anyway, was gone.

  Ivy wanted to scream and cry and tear whoever had taken Landon from her to shreds, but she didn’t have the strength to move. She couldn’t even seem to breathe. She was numb all over.

  This was her fault. If she hadn’t zoned out and jumped over that railing, none of this would have happened. Landon believed her little problem was something they could manage, something they could control, as long as they worked on it together. She’d thought so, too. But they were both wrong. And now the man she loved was dead because of her.

  The light above her shimmered through her tears, and she closed her eyes. In the forest earlier, she hadn’t been sure the things she’d felt for him were real, but she’d been wrong. If they hadn’t been real, she wouldn’t hurt so much. She loved Landon. Now, she would never get the chance to tell him.

  Footsteps intruded on her misery. Part of her wanted to lie there and let them do whatever they wanted to her. Landon was gone and so was her desire to live. But then another emotion surfaced—one tied directly to her feline instincts. Yes, Landon was gone, and these were the bastards who had killed him. She owed it to Landon to get revenge on his behalf. She was going to kill Stutmeir if it was the last thing she did.

  She opened her eyes to see the arms-dealer-turned-monster-maker leaning over her. His eyes were even colder and harder in person, but she refused to flinch. Even when he trailed a finger along her cheek, down her neck, and over the curve of her breast. She hissed, flashing her fangs and yanking at the restraints.

  Stutmeir pulled his hand away, shock on his face. Then he grinned. “I heard stories, but you are even more remarkable than I realized.”

  Ivy growled. She’d enjoy ripping off his face.

  Stutmeir shared a laugh with the other two men. One was the French scientist, Jean Renard. She didn’t recognize the other man, but he must be the German they’d been talking to, Klaus.

  “Well, she might be a natural-born shifter, but she acts just like all the rest of them.” Stutmeir smirked as he turned to leave. “Feel free to conduct as much research as you want. You’ll have at least five or six hours until we move.”

  Research? Her heart froze. What the hell were they planning to do with her?

  She got the answer to that a few minutes later. Or maybe it was hours. Without any clock, she wasn’t sure. She tried to ignore what they were doing, but the humiliation of being treated like a lab experiment made that difficult. Not to mention the incredible pain they inflicted on her as they took samples from every conceivable part of her anatomy. The agony was almost enough to momentarily make her forget that Landon was dead. Almost, but not quite. And the pain of losing him was worse than anything she physically endured.

  “For the love of God, what…?”

  The two men paused at the sound of the woman’s voice. Tall and blond, she had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a white lab coat. If that didn’t give her away as the kidnapped doctor, Zarina Sokolov, her startlingly blue eyes would have.

  “What are you doing to her?”

  Renard barely glanced at the woman. “Taking samples. What does it look like?”

  “Without anesthesia?” Zarina grabbed a syringe off a tray and filled it with something from a vial. “At least give her something for the pain.”

  “No.” Klaus’s voice was hard. “We want to test her pain threshold.”

  They wanted to watch her suffer.

  The Russian doctor must have thought so, too. Muttering something under her breath, she shook her head and walked out.

  Renard offered Ivy a small smile. “I’m going to take a bone marrow sample. This will hurt less if you remain as still as possible.”

  Ivy’s eyes went wide at the sight of the long, needle-like probe in his hand. It looked like a gutter spike and had a blunt tip. There was no way that thing could puncture skin, much less bone.

  Renard put the tip against her thigh and savagely pushed.

  Ivy screamed. Right before she blacked out, she added Renard’s and Klaus’s names to the list of people she was going kill.

  ***

  Landon smacked hard against the ground. Fortunately, it was steeply angled, so it was like hitting a ramp—one with sharp rocks. But he was still alive, and that was what counted.

  He tumbled down it at breakneck speed, his NVGs going one way, his M4 going another, his head slamming into the avalanche of stone over and over before the ground disappeared out from under him again.

  Double shit.

  The fall was shorter this time, and instead of hitting rock, he hit water. Fast moving and icy cold, it knocked the air from his lungs and made his head spin.

  Man, this just keeps getting better and better.

  He gulped in air as he struggled to get himself turned sideways to the current. It was too dark to see much of anything, but from what he remembered of his map recon, none of the rivers in the area were more than twenty or thirty feet wide. If he was right, it shouldn’t be too hard to get out of the rapids.

  That didn’t take into account the weight of his boots, uniform, and tactical vest. The rapids tried to drag him down the whole time, but he gritted his teeth and swam harder. Ivy needed him.

  When he finally dragged himself out of the water, all he could do was lie on his back, gasping for air. Somewhere upstream, the shifters howled, like they were celebrating his demise. Bastards probably thought he was dead. He was shocked he wasn’t.

  How long had it been since he’d left the lodge? Fifteen minutes? Thirty? Long enough for Stutmeir to do whatever he had in mind for her. He had no idea why those animals had darted and dragged her off, but his mind went to a very dark place involving torture and experimentation—neither of which he was willing to contemplate.

  So stop thinking and go get her.

  A few hundred rounds of 5.56mm ammo and a handful of grenades weren’t going to be enough to save Ivy. There were too many shifters and they were too hard to take down. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed help.

  And where was he going to get it? Not the DCO, that was for sure. They’d given him orders to kill her if she got captured. If he told them what happened, they’d probably implement some kind of immediate scorched-earth policy and order every single living creature in that lodge killed, Ivy included.

  Asking the DCO for help wasn’t an option. But asking someone in the department he trusted was.

  Using the satellite phone was not an option. He couldn’t risk going back for it, not with the shifters prowling around. He’d have to use his cell phone. Which meant he’d have to go back to the Jeep—fifteen miles away.

  Instead of sticking to the forests like he and Ivy had when they had approached the lodge, he navigated straight to the road, then ran from there to the Jeep. It was riskier, but time was the most important factor now. Luckily, he didn’t run into any shifters on the way.

  Back at the Jeep, he grabbed the first cell phone he came to—which happened to be Ivy’s—and scrolled down until he found Kendra’s number. It rang four times before she answered.

  “Ivy? It’s the middle of the night. What, you have so many roaming minutes you don’t know what to do with them?”

  “It’s not Ivy. It’s Landon.” He rushed on before she could say anything. “The mission went to hell and Ivy got captured.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Oh God. Did you…?”

  She couldn’t seem to finish. Landon didn’t need her to. He knew what she was asking. “No! I could never do that to Ivy.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m calling because I need help getting her back. Stutmeir isn’t making a bioweapon. He’s making shifters. The lodge is crawling with them.”
r />   “Shifters? But how…?”

  “I don’t know. That’s not important right now.” He struggled to keep his voice even. “Have you gotten hold of Tate yet?”

  “No. He still hasn’t made contact, and we haven’t been able to get through to him. He’s probably still out of range.”

  “Shit. I need Tate’s team to help me get in the lodge, and I need Declan to track Ivy once we’re inside.”

  “Declan’s nose isn’t much better than yours or mine. He’s better at super strength than a good sense of smell. You need Clayne for that.”

  Buchanan was the last person he wanted out here. Next to last if Landon counted Coleman.

  Kendra must have interpreted his silence the proper way. “I know you two don’t get along, but he’s the only other person you can trust. He’d never do anything to jeopardize Ivy’s life.”

  Landon squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Kendra was right. “Okay. Tell him to meet me at the storage unit the DCO set up. And I need him there ASAP. Any way you can get him there”—he looked at his watch—“by 0800 in the morning my time?”

  “0800? It’ll be tight, but yeah, I’ll get him there. If I have to tie him up, drag him on a plane, and fly it myself, I’ll get him there. And Landon?”

  “Yeah?” He already knew what she was going to say.

  “Make it work with Clayne. For Ivy’s sake.”

  He’d buddy up with Jeffrey Dahmer and Charlie Manson if it’d get Ivy out alive. “Just get him here.”

  Okay, it wasn’t what he was hoping for, but it was a start. Problem was, Buchanan was only one part of the equation. He had a shifter who could track Ivy, but he still needed enough firepower to get in the front door. And he knew exactly where to get it.

  He pulled out his cell phone and thumbed through his contacts until he found the number he was after. He hit the Call button and prayed. Please don’t be out on a training exercise.

  A sleepy voice answered. “What?”

  “Angelo, it’s Landon. I need a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  Someone else would have cursed and reminded him it was 0430 in the morning on the East Coast. But not Angelo. “Ivy and I ran into some trouble on a mission and I could use your help. As many of the other guys on the team as you can get, too.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Washington State, three hours outside of Seattle.”

  Angelo sighed. “When do you want us there?”

  “As soon as you can get here. Faster than that if possible.”

  Landon heard a woman’s muffled voice in the background. “No baby, go back to sleep. It’s work stuff.” The bed creaked, like Angelo sat up. “Okay, I’m in. Where do you want to meet?”

  Landon gave him the address of the storage unit.

  “We going to need weapons?” Angelo asked.

  “No. I’ve got that covered. Just get as many of the guys here as you can. And Angelo? I only want volunteers—this is going to be messy.”

  “When isn’t it? Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks, Angelo. I owe you one.”

  “Yeah, you do. And don’t you forget it.”

  Landon would have laughed if he weren’t so scared. If Angelo helped him get Ivy back, he’d repay him for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 15

  A needle pricked her skin, pulling her out of the blackness for the second time since her capture. Ivy knew it was useless since she was strapped down to the bed, but she twisted away anyway. The needle jerked out of her arm. Someone swore.

  Ivy opened her eyes and found herself staring at linoleum. She wasn’t in bed anymore, but on the floor. Was she in the lodge, or had they moved her somewhere else? She pushed herself up. Her hands were bound together in front of her with a ton of duct tape. More of the stuff was wrapped around her ankles, immobilizing her feet. She gritted her teeth as pain shot through her thigh. It felt like she’d been beaten with a baseball bat.

  Her long hair fell in front of her face and she reached up with her bound hands to push it back. That’s when she saw Zarina Sokolov. The Russian doctor was kneeling on the floor a few feet away, a small syringe in her hand.

  Ivy looked around. She was in a room with no windows, no furniture, and—thanks to the two shifters posted outside the open door—no escape.

  She swung her gaze back to the blonde, eyeing her warily. The Frenchman Renard might have started out as a prisoner, but he’d clearly switched sides. Zarina Sokolov might have done the same. “What did you just stick me with?”

  “I was trying to give you something for the pain, but you jerked away before I could.”

  Ivy pushed against the floor with her feet, scooting back against the wall. “I don’t want any medication.”

  The woman moved closer. “What they did to you must still hurt very much.”

  It did, but she needed a clear head if she wanted to escape long enough to get her revenge on Stutmeir and the two doctors who’d thought she was a human pin cushion. That meant no pain meds. Besides, nothing could take away the agony of losing Landon. Compared to that, every other pain paled in comparison.

  She glared at Zarina when the doctor reached for her arm. “I said I don’t want it.”

  The woman looked as if she wanted to argue, but then she nodded. “I understand. I was only trying to help.”

  Maybe she hadn’t turned traitor like Renard. “You’re Zarina Sokolov, right?” Ivy kept her voice low so the guards at the door wouldn’t hear.

  Zarina’s eyes went wide with confusion. She threw the guards a worried look over her shoulder. “How do you know my name?”

  “My…” Ivy swallowed hard. “My partner and I were sent here to rescue you and the other doctors. But from what I saw earlier, Renard’s already joined the dark side.”

  “Yes. He’s completely on board with everything Stutmeir is doing.” Zarina frowned. “But who sent you?”

  “That’s not important. What’s important is whether you can help me get free.”

  Zarina darted another worried glance in the shifters’ direction.

  Ivy glanced at them, too. They were talking among themselves, ignoring her and Zarina. “Please. I just need you to get me something I can use to cut the tape around my wrists. I’ll do the rest.”

  She could have used her claws to free her ankles, but it would take forever, not to mention make a lot of noise. And then what would she do about her wrists, chew through the tape?

  Zarina swallowed hard. “I helped someone else escape a while ago, so they don’t trust me anymore. They search me every time I leave the lab.”

  Ivy wanted to know whom she’d helped, but there wasn’t time to ask. “I need you to do this, Zarina. It’s the only way I’ll be able to get you out of here.”

  The blonde looked dubious. Why wouldn’t she? Ivy was in her underwear, bound hand and foot. As helpless went, she was pretty much the poster girl here.

  Zarina nodded. “I’ll try.” She got to her feet. At the door, she paused to talk to the guards. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with something for her to eat and drink.”

  “What for?” one of the shifters demanded. “She’s not going to live long enough to need it.”

  The other one laughed. “I heard Renard say he plans to take brain cell samples as soon as we get set up at the new facility. Can’t imagine she’s going to be hungry after that.”

  Zarina lifted her chin. “Actually, she’ll be completely functional after the procedure.”

  The Russian doctor’s voice was so cold it sent shivers down Ivy’s back. She hoped the woman was faking it.

  The first shifter shook his head as Zarina walked away. “Damn, that is one cold bitch.”

  The other made a sound of agreement, then turned his attention to Ivy. “Sucks to
be you. Bet you’re wishing you died with that partner of yours.”

  A fresh stab of pain pierced Ivy’s heart, and she added the two shifters to the growing list of people she was going to kill when she got free.

  If she got free. When Zarina still hadn’t come back after what seemed like forever, Ivy thought she wasn’t going to. The Russian woman said she’d helped someone escape before. If Stutmeir figured out what Zarina was up to, he’d keep the doctor as far away from Ivy as possible.

  She frowned at the duct tape around her ankles. It looked like she was going to have to claw and chew her way through it after all.

  Ivy extended her nails just as Zarina walked in with a plastic cup of water and a granola bar. She kneeled down in front of Ivy, holding the cup to her mouth. Ivy didn’t feel like drinking or eating, but she didn’t have much of a choice, not unless she wanted to make a scene, and that would only make the two shifters by the door curious. She sipped the water. As she drank, Zarina pressed something rough and cold into her hands.

  Ivy glanced down and saw a jagged piece of metal. She’d been hoping for a scalpel, but this might work. She darted a quick look at the shifters outside the door to see if they noticed, but they weren’t paying attention.

  As Zarina offered her the granola bar, Ivy caught a glimpse of the watch on the woman’s wrist. Almost 0500 hours. She’d been out longer than she thought.

  Using the doctor’s body to shield her from the guards’ view, she tried to saw at the tape around her wrists, but it was useless. She couldn’t hold the piece of metal between her palms and get enough leverage. She considered asking Zarina to cut her bonds but quickly discarded the idea. Both the doctor’s hands were full, and the woman was already taking a huge risk. So, Ivy did the next best thing—scraped at the thick tape around her ankles. If she could hold the piece of sharpened metal between her feet, she could saw her wrists up and down over it.

  She took another bite of the granola bar as she worked. “Where’s the other doctor, Sarah Beacon?”