Half an hour later, Mercy decided it was time for the next step. Getting up, she turned and nipped at Willow’s ear. The lynx cub made a startled sound and scrambled up on all four feet, eyes wide. Holding that wary gaze, Mercy shifted.
Willow was still in lynx form when Mercy hunkered back down, her hair cascading over her shoulders. Damn, she’d forgotten to take out the hair tie. Not only that, the concealer was gone. Everything disintegrated during the shift. Even tattoos had to be done with special ink that bonded to their cells in some weird way she didn’t particularly want to explore—it was enough that the two she bore didn’t have to be redone after each shift.
“Hey, baby.” She stroked her hand over Willow’s head, flattening those adorable tufted ears.
The girl butted up against her but resisted shifting.
“I know you’re scared,” she said, kneeling so she could pull Willow into her lap. “But I’m here now and I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
The girl lay motionless against her heartbeat.
Mercy’s throat threatened to close at the vulnerability of the child in her arms. “Come on, Willow. I need to know who hurt you so I can help.” Strokes through baby-soft fur, kisses on a cold little nose. “You’re safe.” She put all her dominance into her voice. It was considerable. She was one of the highest-ranking members of either DarkRiver or SnowDancer. For this lynx girl, that made her commands close to impossible to disobey. “Shift.”
And Willow did.
Mercy didn’t move a muscle as the cub disappeared into the magic of the shift, the sparkles of color bright and joyful. An instant later, a little girl scrambled off her lap, crouching down opposite her. Her eyes were huge with hurt. “They took Nash.”
“Your brother?” Nash, she knew, was a student at MIT but he had visiting privileges to DarkRiver land.
A swift nod. “They came and they hurt Mommy and Daddy and they took him.” Willow swallowed hard, and it was clear she was trying desperately not to cry. “My mommy and daddy wouldn’t wake up.”
Oh, hell.
“Willow, sweetheart.” She stroked a hand over the girl’s ash blonde hair, careful with touch now. Changelings were funny about some things. And while the cub may have had no problem with cuddling, a little girl wouldn’t allow total famil ial skin privileges to someone who was almost a stranger. “I’m going to call a friend now. He’s a wolf.”
Willow stared at her, hurt and terror momentarily trumped by astonishment. “A wolf?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I know. But he doesn’t bite”—lie—“so don’t worry.”
Willow didn’t look particularly convinced, but she stayed in position as Mercy whistled. Riley appeared within a minute—with her clothes, boots, and phone. Grateful, she got dressed. When Riley shrugged off his T-shirt and offered it to Willow, the lynx hesitated.
“Don’t worry,” Mercy said, unable to stop staring at the claw marks on his back, “wolf germs wash off real easy.” Damn, she’d scratched him hard. It made her cheeks burn to realize how far gone she’d been.
Willow took the T-shirt after a few more seconds and pulled it on. It covered pretty much everything. And they might be changeling, but sometimes, with strangers, they were human, too. The girl stood up and met Riley’s gaze, showing a courage that made Mercy’s cat growl in silent approval. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He glanced at Mercy, a question in his eyes.
She gave a slight nod. “You tired, kitten?”
Willow shook her head. “I rested a lot.”
But she’d run a hell of a long distance from home. Still, the girl was a predatory changeling. Smaller than a leopard, but a predator nonetheless. They had pride in spades. And this one had earned her right to that pride. “All right. Give me a sec and we’ll be off.” She coded in Lucas’s number.
“Mercy,” he answered. “We have Willow’s parents. Alive.”
“How?”
“Tranqs. Heavy-duty.” A pause as if he was discussing something with another person. “Couple of pack medics living nearby are giving them the once-over, but they should be on the road soon. Bring the cub to Tammy’s.”
Hanging up, she smiled at Willow. “Your mom and dad are okay.”
A flash of hope followed by distrust. “They wouldn’t wake up, and they smelled really bad.”
On occasions like this, a great sense of smell could screw things up. Especially for the little ones. “Someone drugged them—it made them very sleepy.”
Willow bit her lip.
“This is a waste of time,” Riley said. “She can see for herself when we get there.”
Willow nodded like a little machine.
“Come on then,” she said, wondering if the kid realized she’d just sided with a wolf, “time to run.” She went in front, Willow in between, Riley at the back.
When the kid began to flag, Riley simply picked her up, swung her onto his back, and kept running. Willow held on tight. The leopard in Mercy growled in approval—whatever his faults (and they were many and legend), Riley knew how to take care of the innocent.
CHAPTER 5
In the PsyNet, there was a ripple of reaction to the . . . what had it been? A bombing? An accident? Whatever it was, it made news uploads across the country. People asked for more information, and those closest to the restaurant tuned in to the local stations, hoping to supply it.
The public data was sparse as Enforcement and Rescue had reacted within minutes. However, a human student had managed to grab some camera-phone footage. It was obvious the Psy female had been at the epicenter.
There was a flurry of speculation—not unpredictable, especially after Ashaya Aleine’s violent defection from the Net—but the ripple eventually calmed. It was an isolated episode, people said, most likely an accident caused by chemicals in the woman’s briefcase. She’d been a research scientist—from the evidence, it appeared she’d made an error of judgment and put two volatile substances together.
There was no cause to consider it anything else.
CHAPTER 6
Mercy led Riley and Willow to her vehicle, parked a little way from the cabin. “Buckle up,” she said, starting the engine.
“Done.” Bright eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “See?”
Even as Mercy nodded, she glimpsed Riley twist around to look over his shoulder. “Good girl.”
That light exchange set the tone for the drive to Tammy and Nate’s place—but Willow got real quiet the instant they opened the doors and she stepped out. “I can’t smell my mom and dad.” Her hand clenched on Mercy’s.
“They had a longer way to travel,” Riley told the girl with a blunt honesty predatory changeling children appreciated. Most of them were very good at sniffing out lies. “Probably be here in the next half hour. Go on in and grab something to eat.” It was well after the breakfast hour.
“I’m not hungry.” Willow kicked at the grass.
Mercy tugged at her hand, making her look up. “Your mom let you skip meals?”
A shake of the head.
“So?”
A sigh. “I’ll go eat.” But she dragged her feet all the way to the house . . . at least until Tammy’s twins came running out in human form, jumping up and down at the idea of a Big Girl to play with. Their new pet, a kitten named Ferocious, ran up on their heels, determined not to be left behind. Taking advantage of Willow’s fascination with the gorgeous gray thing, the twins basically kidnapped their new friend with promises of letting her cuddle Ferocious.
“A kitten for a pair of leopard cubs?” Riley murmured.
Mercy grinned. “That kitten thinks it’s the master of the universe—Jules and Rome growl at any other cat that dares swipe at her.” Laughing at his expression, she nodded at the house. “Let me make sure Willow’s okay.” When she arrived in the kitchen, it was to find Ferocious purring loudly in the lynx girl’s lap, while Julian and Roman stood on either side of her, their little hands on her bare arms as they told her all the “amazing” thi
ngs their pet could do.
“Your boys are wonderful,” Mercy said to Tammy. They’d understood instinctively that Willow needed caring, so they were doing the job.
The healer smiled in maternal pride. “Have you eaten?”
Mercy was shaking her head when Lucas’s mate, Sascha, walked into the kitchen. “Morning, Mercy. Lucas said to let you know he’s out front.”
Satisfied Willow would be well looked after—and in all probability, petted and spoiled—Mercy headed out to find Lucas giving Riley’s back a considering glance as the damn wolf turned to retrieve something from the car. Fuck.
Lucas, Mercy was well aware, would know for certain that those marks had been made with leopard claws. But he didn’t say anything when Riley turned back, cell phone in hand. “Must’ve slipped out of my pocket. I’m going to let Hawke know what’s going on.”
Lucas nodded and moved a little distance toward the house to give Riley privacy. Changeling hearing was incredibly acute. But it was her alpha’s eyes that worried Mercy as she followed him over. “Any idea what happened?”
“Nate said the house had obviously been invaded. The son is missing, signs of a struggle.” Eyes narrowing, he looked her up and down. Then drew in a deep breath. “Good, you took care of it.”
She categorically did not want to be having this conversation. “Yeah. Can we move on now?”
“No.” A glint lit those intelligent green eyes from within. “Riley’s got some interesting marks on his back, and you’re not touch-hungry all of a sudden. And is that a bite I see on your neck?”
“What’s one got to do with the other?” She tried to brazen it out, but couldn’t stop herself from sweeping her hair around to hide the incriminating mark. Of course Riley had to bite her somewhere obvious—it was exactly the sort of thing dominant males loved to do, the first stage in claiming a female for their own.
Lucas’s lips curved, the savage markings on his face—four jagged lines, like the claw marks of some great beast—standing out in stark relief. “Dorian’s going to love this.”
She glared. “I swear to God, you tell him, and I’ll”—what the hell could you threaten an alpha with?—“I’ll tell Hawke you want to go on daily bonding runs with him.”
Lucas didn’t stop grinning, but said, “That’s just mean, Mercy.” He glanced over her shoulder. “But if you don’t want anyone else to know, get Riley a T-shirt.”
“This is not an admission of anything,” she said as she ran into the house and grabbed a spare tee from the stash the sentinels kept there. It made sense since Tammy was their healer and they often came to her bleeding or worse. The tee was a plain gray but when she threw it at Riley and he put it on, it abruptly became much more interesting—the man might make her hackles rise ninety-nine percent of the time, but he was built delicious, all hard muscle and contained masculine power.
Feeling heat bloom in the pit of her stomach in spite of her teeth-gritting control, she turned away just in time to catch Lucas’s smirk. “Luc.”
“I’m a sphinx,” he promised. “By the way, you have visitors. Came in last night—staying in a cabin not far from your place.”
Anger flared, eclipsing everything else. “Why didn’t you tell me my grandmother was doing this?” She knew Lucas and Isabella had a strong alpha-to-alpha bond. Over fifteen years ago, when DarkRiver had been under attack by the ShadowWalkers, Isabella had offered her help, though she’d been dealing with serious territorial problems of her own at the time. In the end, the help hadn’t been needed, but the offer had never been forgotten.
Now, Lucas folded his arms. “I thought you were drowning. Your grandmother was offering to throw you a life jacket.” Blunt words. “And might be one of them turns out to be your mate.” He switched his attention as Riley jogged over. “Hawke up-to-date?”
Riley nodded. “Since I’m down here, I’ll stay on this. What did Nate find?”
Lucas gave him the same rundown he’d given Mercy. “Willow say anything?”
“Only that they took Nash,” Mercy said, putting everything else out of her mind. “Why would anyone run this big an op to grab a college student?”
“Brenna was a college student when Enrique took her.” The withheld rage in Riley was an almost physical thing.
Mercy understood—Santano Enrique, a cardinal telekinetic, had killed Dorian’s sister, Kylie, and viciously tortured Riley’s sister, Brenna. Brenna had survived, but she’d been hurt in ways no woman should have to suffer. “Riley’s right,” she said, and the sky didn’t fall in. “This could be another crazy, or it could be something specific to Nash.”
Lucas nodded. “Parents should be able to tell us more, but don’t count on scent—someone sprayed a heavy perfume throughout the house.”
Riley’s eyes grew flint hard. “Could be changeling.”
Mercy hoped that wasn’t true. Betrayal among the tight structure of the pack was rare, but when it happened it shoved an ice pick of the cruelest pain through them all. “We need to go back to the scene after we hear what Iain and Enid have to say.” She met Lucas’s eyes. “I want to stay on this.”
“Works.” Lucas nodded. “Nate’s helping Emmett run some important training for Kit and the other novice soldiers. It’d be better if he could continue with that.”
An instant later, they felt the vibration of a vehicle getting closer. Nate’s SUV rolled in not long after. Two people who looked like they’d been dragged through hell itself got out the back as Nate stepped out from the driver’s side.
Mercy heard the sound of running feet seconds before Willow screamed, “Mommy! Daddy!” and launched herself off the porch. Catching her in a bone-crushing embrace, her father wrapped one arm around his mate and pulled her into the hug as well. Mercy looked away from the private moment, her eyes locking with Riley’s.
Pure, electric heat.
She held that wolf gaze, daring him to say something. He kept his silence, but those eyes . . . the intensity in them made her thighs clench in instinctive female reaction. She called him a stick-in-the-mud because he was so damn calm, so practical, and in no way hotheaded. But as she’d learned last night, when that intensity focused on a woman, it focused. Hunger tore through her, potent, rough, primal in its sensuality.
“Can you two keep from tearing each other’s throats out during however long it takes to find Nash?” Lucas’s dry tone did nothing to hide the feline amusement in his eyes as he broke into her line of sight. “Or maybe I should be worrying about clothes instead?”
Riley growled low in his throat. “Not your business.” His voice was more wolf than human, heavy with the same need that had Mercy in its claws.
“What?” Lucas asked disingenuously as Nathan began to herd the sobbing family inside. “Come on. Playtime’s over.”
Mercy hung back a little as Lucas went in. “Keep your shirt on next time,” she muttered to Riley, realizing the implication of her statement an instant too late.
“Keep your claws in . . . no, don’t. I liked it.” A pause. “Kitty.”
She felt those same claws release. It took serious effort of will to put them back in. “What am I worried about?” she said instead, drawing blood in a much more effective way. If Riley wanted to mess with a cat, he’d better invest in armor. “I’m never again going to let myself get that desperate—I mean, a wolf? Do you know how many years it’ll take me to live that down?” The words were almost subvocal, designed to carry to his ears alone. She felt him bristle, but all amusement died the instant she saw the way Willow’s mom was clutching her.
“My baby,” she was saying, kissing Willow’s cheek, “my baby.” Another kiss. Willow clung to her like a little monkey. Her father was sitting beside them, touching his child and his mate anywhere he could reach. The love, the connection between the three was a physical thing. Her chest grew tight with the force of it.
Then she felt Riley enter behind her, and the heat of him was a wash of wildfire on her back. “Iain,” she said
, feeling that fire snake into her very veins, “we need to talk to you.” The sooner, the better. “And Enid, too.”
Sascha came into the room from the kitchen right then. “Willow, why don’t you come play with Rome and Jules for a while. They’re starting to drive their mother crazy.” A smile, but the eyes—the white stars on black velvet of a cardinal, the most powerful grade of Psy—were directed at the lynx girl’s parents.
Mercy felt a sense of calm, of warmth, soften the stark edge of fear and desperation in Iain’s and Enid’s scent. It was no surprise—Sascha was an empath, a woman born with the ability to soothe emotional wounds. Now she’d taken a piece of the Bakers’ pain, absorbing it into herself. Mercy wondered if doing that hurt Sascha, but knew her alpha’s mate would never back off, no matter if it did.
Iain and Enid finally let Willow go with Sascha five minutes later. “She’ll be fine,” Mercy reassured them, taking a seat in front of the couple while Lucas and Nathan remained standing against the walls.
Riley, however, came to sit beside her, swinging around a chair to put his arms on the back. “She’s a strong kid,” he told them in his direct, no-nonsense way. “Escaped and hid out with a group of wild lynx.”
Iain smiled, his pride open. “We thought they’d taken her, too.”
“Did you see who came into your home?” Mercy asked, trying to ignore the fact that Riley’s thigh was pressing against hers, the rough masculine heat burning through her jeans to incite her leopard to voracious sexual want. It was on purpose. Definitely on purpose. The wolf was getting back at her for implying he’d been nothing but a convenience. “Even a hint would help.”
The Bakers shook their heads. “We were asleep,” Enid said, voice husky from crying. “But usually, we’d wake up the instant an intruder even entered the yard. But this time . . . it was like we were drugged right from the start.”
“Enid’s right.” Iain frowned. “I remember fighting to wake up, sure something was wrong, but I couldn’t. I saw a black shadow bend over me, felt a push in my . . .” He shoved up his sleeve as if searching for something. “I felt it right here.” He pressed a spot on his forearm. “Like a pressure injector. Next thing I know, I’m waking up and the house smells wrong, and I know the children are gone.”
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