by Zoe Chant
Francine’s stance changed, and Irina froze. She couldn’t make out her expression through the blinding light, but it was as though all her violent tension had vanished between one breath and the next.
“You… you’re telling the truth,” Francine said weakly. “But… how?”
Even through her streaming eyes, Irina saw what happened next. Francine stepped backward, in front of the spotlight. Irina blinked as the brutal glare of the spotlight was cut off. She watched as Francine raised a hand and pressed her fingertips to her forehead briefly, then looked around quickly.
“You,” she said, but she wasn’t looking at Grant. Someone moved in the shadows behind the spotlight—one of the soldiers? “Explain. You told me—”
Before anyone else could move, another shadow detached itself from the darkness and swung at her head. Francine cried out and fell to the ground.
Grant roared, and the lights went out.
Irina’s skin crawled as the cavern was plunged into total darkness. Her sight filled with yellow and green blotches as her eyes failed to adjust. There were noises in front of her, thumps, cracks—and snarls. When she felt a touch on her shoulder, she screamed.
“Hey, shh. Stay calm, I’m here to get you out.”
Irina relaxed as she recognized Lance’s voice. “The lights?”
“All part of the plan.” Lance sounded distracted, and Irina felt a slight tug around her wrists. A moment later, her arms were free.
She rolled her wrists, easing the joints. “Ow,” she muttered. “My legs—”
“On it,” came Lance’s terse reply. She didn’t hear him move, but she felt the straps on her ankles loosen. First the left, then—
Irina screamed again as something, someone, hurtled out of the darkness and slammed into her. She tried to leap out of the way, but she was still attached to the chair, and fell with it as it crashed onto its side.
The ground hit her like a fist. Irina gasped for air, rough rock scraping her knees and hands, and screamed as someone grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.
An animal roar ripped through the air, and something huge leapt over her, knocking her attacker to the ground. Irina flung herself sideways, landing in a trickle of icy water, but was pulled up short. Her right leg was still strapped to the chair. She wrenched at her leg, desperate to free it. It hurt, but she felt the strapping begin to give.
Irina bit back a sob. Where had Lance gone? And where was Grant?
A red point of light flickered on the ground in front of her, moving strangely over the water. Suddenly, something landed in front of her, pushing her out of the way at the same time an explosion sent chips of rock flying into her face.
Irina flung out one hand to steady herself, and felt warm, soft fur. An animal?
A huge animal. It moved under her hands, and she felt strong muscles flex under the plush fur, a massive shoulder that would have come up to her waist at least if she was standing. It was still standing between her and the shooter.
The red light appeared again, quickly followed by a yelp, and the thump of a body hitting the ground.
The soldiers, Irina thought, remembering the guns. Was that Lance? Does taking out armed men come under his “PA” duties?
Grant—Oh, God, I hope Grant is okay out there.
Hot breath rolled over her ankle, warm and damp and close, and then her ankle was free. Her foot splashed to the ground. She pulled her leg up quickly and winced.
The creature, whatever it was, was still there. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel it. The cavern was cold, but the animal that had protected her from the gunman was so warm she could feel its heat from where she sat.
There was a scuffle farther into the cavern, and the creature turned and leapt away, leaving Irina with nothing but the darkness and a lingering, familiar scent.
Something spicy, and warm, and…
No, she thought. No, that’s… that’s crazy.
That spicy, warm scent? Of course it was familiar. It was Grant’s scent.
She shook her head. What? You’re crazy. As crazy as Francine.
Francine, with her teeth that lengthened into fangs.
The animal that had leapt to protect her…
That’s impossible, she told herself. You’re tired, you’re scared, you’re—you’re delusional.
She clenched her fists, scraping her knuckles on the rocky ground. I need to get out of here.
Irina crawled onto her hands and knees. Every part of her body ached more now than it had when she was bound, but she ignored it.
How could she get out? She tried to remember what she had seen from the chair, before the spotlight blinded her. The dark walls of the cavern—and a darker shadow. The same shadow Grant had emerged from.
There must be a way out there. All she needed to do was find a wall, and follow it around until it turned into the way out.
And hope that Grant follows me out.
The sounds of fighting were oddly muffled in the cavern, but clear enough to make Irina’s muscles stiffen. Grunts. The thump of blows landing, and the scuffle of movement.
But mostly… silence. No more gunshots. No shouts, no yelled instructions. Just the quiet, careful noises of serious fighting.
Irina’s voice caught in her throat. Get out. I’ve got to get out.
She crawled forward, through the shallow, icy stream, and straight into a still form. Her trembling fingers found cloth, skin— and hair. Long hair.
Francine.
She was lying in the water. Her skin was warm, but…
In a panic, Irina hooked her arms under the other woman’s shoulders and heaved her into a sitting position. Francine was still unconscious so she almost slipped out of Irina’s grip, but Irina managed to lay her back down out of the water. She turned the unconscious woman on her side with her head resting on one arm, the other bent in front of her so she didn’t roll forward onto her face.
Irina held her hand against the other woman’s lips. Francine might have been knocked out, but she was still breathing. Irina was surprised at the relief she felt, even though the woman had been threatening her only minutes earlier.
“All right,” she muttered to herself. “New plan. Get out—and get a goddamn ambulance.”
Except there weren’t ambulances, not if Francine was right and they were in the same mountain range where Irina had spent last summer. There were towns, sure. Small towns. Maybe one in five of them had a doctor’s clinic.
She just had to hope they were close to that one in five.
Irina took a deep breath. She could do this. Get out. Doctor. Police, holy shit yes.
She raised her head, lifted her hands to find the closest wall, and stood up just as the lights went on again.
Irina froze, but this time, the spotlight wasn’t on her.
The whole cave was illuminated in brilliant white light. Five figures stood like statues. Three men—and two massive animals.
Where’s Grant? And Lance? Irina’s breath caught in her throat. The three men were Francine’s henchmen—or had been, before they betrayed her. There was no sign of either Grant or his friend.
Only the two animals.
Irina held her breath as she stared at the big cats. One had a thick, pale coat with dark spots, and a sturdy build. The other…
The other was a huge black panther, its sleek, midnight-colored coat the only shadow left in the cave. Irina’s chest ached strangely as she stared at it, and it stared back at her with its gleaming green eyes.
20
GRANT
Grant looked up, straight into Irina’s shocked eyes.
There was no hiding from her now. No hoping that the cover of darkness would keep his secret safe, and her safe from knowledge of it.
There he stood, a panther larger and more ferocious than any natural animal—and there she was, staring at him. Grant cringed. He knew what she was seeing: a huge, wild animal, crouched ready to attack. A creature, not a person; fierce and inhuman, wit
h fangs as long as her fingers and cold, gleaming eyes.
Before Grant could move, one of the mercenaries took advantage of his hesitation, stepping in close to Irina as though he was protecting her from the beast.
“Quick,” the man said, “Get back into the tunnel, before that thing attacks you again!”
He held his hand out to Irina, as though urging her backwards, but Grant saw his other hand slip into a pocket. The knife he pulled out was made of some matte black metal that wouldn’t catch the light.
Grant’s heart almost stopped. He was too far away to get between Irina and the weapon, and the man knew it. He had Grant stuck as neatly as a rat in a trap. Make a move, and he risked Irina’s life; stay where he was, and take a chance that he would do nothing more than watch the mercenary take Irina away to God knows where.
Gravel skittered under Irina’s feet as she shifted her weight. She took a hesitant step backwards, and the mercenary smiled encouragingly. Or at least, he showed her his teeth.
“I—” she began, her eyes flicking from the man, to Grant, and back again. She walked sideways with her back to the cave wall, never once taking her eyes off Grant. The mercenary tracked her step by step, knife hidden at his side.
She stumbled into the spotlight cage and flinched as the light swung, sending shadows wheeling across the cave.
“Oh, God,” she gasped, grabbing hold of the steel frame to steady it. The light rocked in its holding, and her fingers tightened around heavy bulb.
“Go on. I’ll protect you from this monster,” the mercenary urged her. He glanced back at Grant. His eyes were hidden by the mask, but his mouth twisted in a mocking sneer.
“Okay,” Irina whispered, and as the man turned back to leer at Grant, she smashed the light over the back of his head.
There was a loud bang followed almost immediately by a flash, and the cave fell into darkness again. Grant heard Irina draw her breath in one long, ragged inhale. Behind him, the other mercenaries yelled. There was the sound of fighting, and then a satisfied huff from Lance.
That’s them dealt with, Grant thought.
The next thing he heard made his heart sing.
“Grant?” Irina called out, her voice wavering. “That—that is you, isn’t it?”
Grant heard a soft rumble, and it took him a moment to realize the noise was coming from him. He was purring.
She recognized me.
He heard Irina start to walk forward and rushed to meet her. He dodged around the fallen mercenary before Irina could stumble into him and stopped just in front of her.
Irina’s fingers brushed his forehead. His panther’s forehead. He felt her hesitate and resisted the urge to close the gap between them.
“Oh, my God,” Irina breathed, her fingers exploring Grant’s ears and sliding down his neck. “Grant? Is this really you?”
Grant nodded slowly and concentrated.
This wasn’t the right way to do things. He knew that. It wasn’t how he had imagined revealing himself to Irina, if he had ever really imagined that would be possible.
But what else could he do? If he was ruining everything, at least he had kept her safe.
Grant found his human shape inside himself to focus on changing back. He surged upwards, front legs transforming into arms, paws shrinking into hands and feet, fingers and toes. His fur disappeared, leaving bare skin behind. His fangs and muzzle shrank away into a mouth that could form human words.
Irina’s hands had stayed on him as he shifted. Through his transformation from animal to human, she hadn’t moved an inch. She hadn’t left him.
Grant shivered as Irina’s fingertips found his face again, tracing the line of his jaw. At last his control broke. He took his hand in hers, pressing her fingers to his lips and whispering her name along with his kisses.
“Irina—my darling—are you all right? Did they hurt you? Irina…”
“Grant, I…” Irina’s voice cracked just before she threw herself at him, winding her hands around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. “I’m fine. I—you—what happened…?”
She paused, shivering. Her dress was soaked through. Grant wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her so close he could feel her heartbeat against his own chest. She took a long, slow breath and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
“I’m not going crazy, am I? You turned into a—a panther.”
Grant dropped his head onto hers, nestling into the wet mass of her hair. “Yes.”
“I’ve never seen one before. Not even in a zoo.” She laughed softly. “I mean—I’ve never seen anyone turn into one, either. Which is probably more relevant, here.”
Grant froze. He couldn’t help it. “Irina, I—”
“Shh.”
Grant’s muscles were tensed, but Irina was more relaxed that he could have imagined possible at this moment. She sank into him, trusting him more than he trusted himself.
Only when the unconscious mercenary twitched and groaned did Irina flinch. Grant wrapped his arms more tightly around her, putting his body between her and the other man. “We should get out of here.”
“Wait,” said Irina urgently. “Francine—we can’t leave her here.”
“She brought you here.” Grant heard the growl in his own voice, and sighed. “I’m sorry. I mean—”
“She brought me here,” Irina agreed. “But you saw what happened. Those men turned on her.” Her voice grew cold. “Whatever the hell is going on here, I get the feeling Francine isn’t behind it all.”
***
They left the cave with Frankie slung over Grant’s shoulder and Irina at his side. As they emerged from the cave, Grant saw Lance, already back in human form and clothed, perched on a rock.
Grant ruefully thought of his own change of clothes, which was spread in tatters throughout the cavern behind them. But somehow, the cold didn’t bother him as it usually did. Irina’s presence at his side filled him with a warmth that was more powerful than any amount of snow and ice.
“Harley’s on his way,” Lance called, uncrossing his legs and bounding off the rock. “What happened to the other one?”
Grant jerked his head back towards the cave, and Lance loped toward the entrance. “I’ll bring him out and add him to the pile.”
Irina exclaimed, drawing Grant’s attention to the other two mercenaries who were lying in a heap near the boulder Lance had been perched on. He drew Irina back, automatically putting himself between her and the men.
Lance paused as he passed their small group, holding something up to catch the light. “You didn’t see if he had one of these on him, did you?”
Grant stared at the object, which glimmered in the winter sun. It was a thin oval, made of some flexible material.
“What is that?”
Lance’s lips thinned. Take a sniff, he suggested grimly.
Grant bent to smell the object and frowned. He could smell Irina at his side, his own sweat, and even the unpleasant odor of the unconscious mercenaries. But nothing from the strange thing Lance had found.
And nothing from Lance.
“Christ,” he breathed and sniffed again as if another breath would change the result. It was uncanny.
“What is it?” Irina’s voice was uncertain, as though she wasn’t sure this was something she should be asking.
Grant met Lance’s eyes for a split second before he turned to her. “It’s as though he isn’t there,” he explained. “Not to my nose, at least.”
Irina shivered against him. “Creepy,” she murmured. Grant told himself she was talking about the unnatural object, and not his shifter sense of smell, and held her close.
A moment later, the helicopter’s engines cut through the air as it roared into sight, and by the time Lance came back, the chopper was hovering above them. The trees on either side of the small stream whipped back and forth in the wind from its blades.
“Time to go home,” Grant said, relieved.
“Home,” Irina agreed. She look
ed up at him, her eyebrows drawing together. “And you’ll explain everything.”
Grant’s breath caught in his throat. Explain everything?
“Yes,” he said. “I will. I promise.” Even if it means I have to lose you.
21
IRINA
Irina didn’t remember arriving back at the airfield. She fell asleep in the helicopter, cold and exhausted but safe in Grant’s strong arms, and woke in bed.
For a moment, wrapped in soft, thick blankets, the kidnapping seemed like a bad dream. Then she stretched and felt her body complain. Bruises, strained muscles, grazed skin…
But I’m safe, she thought, suddenly very awake. Where am I?
She sat bolt upright and winced as her head throbbed. Her body did not like waking up this quickly. Even in a warm, soft bed, wearing a snuggly cotton t-shirt that smelled of…
“Grant?”
As soon as she spoke, Grant stepped through the bedroom door, damp curls stuck to his forehead, green eyes piercing.
So, that was where she was. She was home.
“You’re awake,” Grant said, stalking across to the bed and gathering Irina into his arms. She fought her way out of the blankets and wound her arms around him in return, inhaling his warm, spicy scent.
“It wasn’t a dream, was it?” she murmured into his shoulder. “Being grabbed at the restaurant, the cave… and you.”
She stared at Grant in wonder, running her hands over his face. His cut-glass cheekbones, Roman nose, the deliberate dusting of dark stubble along his jaw…
He had transformed. From a human, into—something else. A giant panther.
“You turned into a panther,” she said, awed. “You saved me.”
A muscle twitched under Irina’s hand on Grant’s jaw, and he looked away.
“I promised I would explain,” he said slowly. “I should. I need to. Before anything else.”
“Yes, please, tell me how it is you can turn into a panther!” Irina said, excited. “And—can other people, too? Francine? I thought I saw—and Lance, he is too, right? The other cat?”