Animal Instincts (Entangled Ignite)

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “What about his cell phone? He might have entered information there.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “Too bad we can’t find it.”

  “His cell is missing? You mean someone stole it?”

  “I mean they didn’t find it on him, which is very odd.” And it had been bothering me since Ethan had told me. “Shade was never without his cell. It’s not in his apartment or car, either.”

  “Are you sure he had it the night he died?”

  “Ethan said Dad called him and got him around seven. So, yes, he had it then.”

  Luc scowled. “Huh. I wonder if whoever shot your brother got hold of his cell somehow.”

  “You’d have to ask your mother if she saw anything more. If she would tell you. She claims to know nothing, to have seen nothing.”

  He aimed that scowl at me. “You promised to stay away from her.”

  “She wouldn’t tell me anyway,” I admitted. “If she knows something, you’re the only one who can get it out of her.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Good.”

  Thinking I ought to get away before he tried working his sensual magic on me again, I slid out of the booth.

  “Stay. Have another margarita.”

  “No, thanks. I never was fond of hangovers.”

  “I’ll take you home.” He started to get up.

  “I got myself here, I can get myself home. I need some time to think.”

  “Have it your way.” Though he settled back in the booth, he didn’t sound happy about it.

  I made my getaway before he could change his mind. Once out of the bar, I started for the exit, but seeing the habitat, I couldn’t resist its pull. I fought with myself but lost. A moment later, I ended up standing before the windows alongside a few casino guests.

  The habitat seemed as quiet as it had been when I looked for Hank earlier, and obviously disappointed, the other onlookers left for the gambling tables. I remained, my gaze sweeping as much of the habitat as I could see. No sign of Hank. Still, I couldn’t leave without making an attempt to find him. He’d helped me before, and maybe he had more information he’d kept from me because Luc was there.

  My heart skipped a beat at the thought of entering the habitat alone, but I knew I had to do it. Blame the tequila that gave me an extra shot of courage.

  I was about to go for the door when a shiver along my spine told me someone was watching me. Luc?

  I flew around. Nope, no Luc. My stomach knotted as I skimmed the slot machine area and gaming tables. If anyone had particular interest in me, however, it wasn’t from the casino area. The tequila had probably made me a little paranoid, too.

  I turned back to the habitat. The visible animals all seemed occupied. Or asleep.

  With a last look to make sure no one was watching me, I moved to the door Luc and I had taken to find Hank. Despite the liquid courage, my limbs felt stiff, as if they didn’t want to move. As if they didn’t want to go where I knew I had to. I forced myself to open the door and slipped into the hallway. I walked along the glass and stopped where I’d entered before, unsure whether I could simply walk through the glass the way I had earlier. Fighting a panicky sensation that stiffened my limbs, I hesitated.

  Hank, are you there? I need to talk to you.

  No answer.

  Hank, please, tell me if you can hear me.

  If he could, he wasn’t telling.

  My heart lurched. I was going in.

  Steeling myself, I licked my lips, closed my eyes, and held my breath. I imagined myself walking through the glass window even as I stepped forward. And kept stepping until I opened my eyes and found myself inside the habitat. I gasped for breath. I didn’t think I could ever get used to doing that.

  Since the coyote wasn’t answering my thoughts, I decided to try talking out loud. “Hank, I’m here. I’m going to find you, so you might as well come out.”

  No response from Hank. But I heard wings flap overhead and a sinister rattle nearby. A red-tailed hawk wheeled at me from behind a mesa. My pulse jumped and so did I. A rattler slithered out from behind a rock, ready to strike.

  My head went light but I fought to imagine Hank’s wooded copse as I had last time, and a second later, I was there. Thank goodness. I had to remember that I could create my own reality in here.

  “C’mon, Hank, you know I’m trying to help you and the others who were forced to fight. I want to talk to you for just a minute.”

  A muffled sound. An animal in pain? I caught my breath and held it as I tuned in, listening hard.

  More sounds.

  Low. Anguished. Bone-chilling.

  Swallowing my fear, I followed the pitiful, scary cries deep into the gloom under the canopy of trees. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the gray shadows that obliterated all detail.

  Then I saw him, lying still as death.

  “Hank!” I cried, running to the coyote’s side and dropping to my knees.

  His fur was covered with blood. His side was split open. And nearly every inch of him had been shredded.

  I wanted to heal him somehow, but his wounds were beyond anything I could mend. I feared touching him would only hurt him more. One of his paws looked intact, so I gently circled it with my fingers and felt his faint pulse.

  A connection lit between us. I broadcast calm and images that I hoped would soothe him until help arrived. He seemed to sigh and decompress a little.

  Visualizing Luc in my mind’s eye, I concentrated on summoning him. The habitat. Hank needs help. Hurry!

  Hank moaned. Too late.

  “No, hang on!” I cried, fearing he was right. “Luc will fix you.” My eyes stung and I swallowed hard. “Who did this to you? Why?” I asked even as his pulse slowed and then stopped.

  Dead.

  “No, no!”

  Because of me.

  I blinked away tears, but more kept coming. Hank had been murdered because I’d convinced him to give me that address to stop the shifter fight.

  Luc…the habitat…please…

  My fault. The tears wouldn’t stop.

  Until I heard swift paws padding behind me. The back of my neck prickled in warning. What now?

  I turned around to face a wolf. Its eyes gleamed like black diamonds. Another shifter, not the friendly sort. My heart thundered. I couldn’t move. Knowing fear excited a wild animal, I tried to hide mine. I swiped a hand across my wet face and locked gazes.

  The shifter bared its teeth. A low growl vibrated through the barrel of its chest. My head went light. No fear, I told myself.

  Did you kill Hank?

  I knew it had, just as I knew it was going to kill me. Rather, it was going to try.

  I braced for the attack, visualized The Book of Powers, and whispered, “I call upon Brigit. Epona. Maeve. All the Protectresses that have come before me.” I could make my own reality here. “Add your strength to mine to fight this evil—”

  The shifter lunged for me, and I threw out my hands to protect myself.

  When it slammed into me, a current passed between us. An unearthly wolf howl shuddered through me as the shifter fell to the ground mere feet away.

  It scrabbled to its feet and I imagined I could feel its foul breath on my face. You’re going to die, bitch!

  But before it could attack again, Luc was suddenly there between us, his face a mask of fury. With a sweep of Luc’s hand, the shifter flew through the air and slammed into a tree. This time when it landed, it didn’t move.

  “He killed Hank,” I choked out.

  When my gaze turned to the dead coyote, I froze. Hank had shifted back to human form. There was blood everywhere. He was covered with bite wounds, and his organs spilled from the huge tear in his gut. My stomach revolted, and I retched until it was empty.

  Luc pulled me up and into his arms. I clung to him as if my life depended on it. Which it might.

  This was a nightmare.

  I was living a bloody nightmare.

&n
bsp; When was I going to wake up?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After several hours of strange dreams that haunted my fitful sleep, I was awakened by the insistent bleating of my doorbell. Not wanting to face anyone, I pulled the covers over my head, but another blast was followed by a sharp tug on the covers. The cats protested and repositioned themselves around the mattress.

  “Hey.” I looked up to face Boomer grinning at me. “Shade? What are you doing in Boomer’s body again? Get out of there.”

  I did it so I could leave my apartment and keep an eye on you. The doorbell. Get up and answer.

  “All right.”

  My first thought as I stumbled out of bed was that Luc had come for me. He hadn’t wanted me to be alone last night, but I’d insisted on going home. He’d brought me here and had said someone would be guarding me. I hadn’t argued.

  I got to the intercom in the hallway. “Who is it?”

  “Oh, thank God you’re all right.”

  “Phoebe?”

  Groaning, I pressed the buzzer to let her up. Just what I needed—company when I was so depressed I could hardly move.

  I opened the door as Phoebe got to the top of the stairs. Her braids were pulled into a high ponytail that was decorated with a big silk flower the same bright yellow as her capris and tube top.

  “Oh, did I wake you?”

  Aware of my tangled hair, wrinkled pajamas, and sleep-swollen eyes, I muttered, “No, I always look like this,” before turning and heading for the kitchen. Phoebe and my brother the dog followed. “Coffee. I need coffee.” It would wake my brain even if it didn’t make me feel any better.

  “I tried calling. Several times. I got worried when you didn’t answer.”

  “Had a little too much tequila last night,” I said in excuse. I could never tell her the truth about what I’d been through. I didn’t want to risk her safety.

  “You were with a man.” Phoebe squealed.

  “Don’t get too excited. We’re wrong for each other.”

  Which was the truth, unfortunately, because I more than liked Luc. And it wasn’t all physical attraction, though there was that in spades. But there was something about him that made me think Nuala hadn’t been exaggerating about who he was. I didn’t see it going anywhere under the circumstances. Last night had convinced me of that.

  I could still see Hank’s body, broken and bloody.

  “So you’re not going to dish?” Phoebe asked.

  I gave her a pained look.

  She sighed. “Okay.” And didn’t hide her disappointment.

  Still wondering how I’d gotten out of that habitat alive, I wanted to tell Phoebe everything, but that would mean involving her. If she believed me. No, I had to keep her out of it. Keep her safe.

  I tried to put on a good face so she would stop worrying about me. Opening the cabinet, I pulled out a packet of coffee. “I thought you told me to take as much time as I needed.”

  “Yeah, and I meant it.” Phoebe plopped herself down in a chair at the kitchen table. “But when you didn’t answer your phone, I figured I’d better come over here to see what happened to you for myself.”

  With Phantom twirling around my ankles and Peach sitting at the bowls complaining loudly, I set up my coffeemaker. “Nothing happened to me. I needed the extra sleep.”

  Normally I didn’t lie. As a matter of fact, I hated lies. Telling lies. Being told lies. But this wasn’t normally. Suddenly nothing about my life was normal. I couldn’t be truthful with someone in whom I usually confided everything. The dog was sniffing Phoebe as though she was a tempting cookie fresh-baked out of the oven. With an excited bark, he jumped up, paws landing in her lap. Phoebe shrieked in surprise.

  “Boomer, stop that!” I said.

  “Oh, wow. He’s never been so interested in me before.”

  “He had Shade before.”

  I emphasized the name in case my brother forgot I knew he was in that doggy body. He had the good grace to appear shamefaced. Well, for a minute. Then he set his butt down on Phoebe’s foot and leaned against her leg. She reached down and patted his head, then made little stand-up tufts with his wiry fur.

  Giving him a warning look, I set out food for him and the cats.

  Pouring two mugs of coffee a few minutes later, I said, “I need to throw on some clothes and get Boomer outside.”

  “You want me to let the dog out? I’ll walk him in the alley while you shower.”

  Shade simply whined through Boomer’s nose and sat at attention.

  “Deal,” I said, fetching a leash and a plastic bag for Phoebe. While I loved dogs, I’d quickly come to learn that taking care of one dog was a lot more work than taking care of three cats. “Thanks.”

  Once in the shower, I scrubbed my hair and skin as if I could wash away the responsibility pressing down on me. As if it could help me forget last night. Nothing could make me feel better about what was ahead of me. Well, one thing. The baby. Shade hadn’t been around when I’d stumbled in the night before, and truthfully, it would have been the wrong time to tell him.

  When would be the right time? Shade didn’t even remember Nuala. But a child—he had to know. Maybe just not now.

  I turned off the water. Dreamer was sitting on the toilet, watching as I wrapped one towel around my hair and dried myself with another.

  “So when do I tell him?” I asked the cat, as if he had the answers.

  Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, I touched the sea glass pendant Shade had given me. The light deep inside seemed to wink at me. I hadn’t ever removed it. I felt that if I did, it would be like removing Shade from my life for good. I wasn’t ready for that.

  Then again, I wasn’t ready for any of this.

  Not for the responsibility. Not for the guilt.

  Seeing Hank in human form ripped apart was like a photograph that was freeze-framed in my mind. I would never forget it, not until the day I died, and maybe not even then. Not knowing if anything was going to be done about it, whether or not Hank’s death would be covered up to protect the Kindred, made me feel hollow and helpless. Security guards had taken the wolf shifter away. What would they do to him?

  I hadn’t asked.

  I’d known Luc’s sense of justice and mine were at odds, so what had I expected? That he would call the CPD?

  Then again, would I have? As much as I wanted to bring down the entire operation—both the shifter fights and the casino—I now had Shade’s child to consider. I had to protect him or her. Nuala might be better off away from the casino, but I wouldn’t bet she would want to leave her family, leave the only world she had ever known. Part of me didn’t want her to be forced to do so.

  Maybe Luc’s definition of justice and mine had just gotten closer.

  Hearing the downstairs back door slam, I dressed quickly, pulled the towel off my hair, and started untangling it as the dog burst in the apartment. Dreamer jumped off the toilet seat to greet him. Or to see that the dog didn’t eat the leftover cat food, a thought that actually made me smile a little.

  Phoebe stopped in the hallway outside the bathroom. “Wow, that was fast. You look better.”

  “Good.” I only wished I felt better. I moved to the doorway and let a bit of doubt show on my face. “Still…”

  “What?”

  “I think it’s best if I take a couple more days off from the store.”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  “You don’t mind if I play it by ear?”

  “Whatever you need. I’m good with it.”

  Phoebe hugged me and I hugged her back, wishing like crazy I could tell my best friend the truth, knowing I had to keep her out of this to keep her safe.

  …

  “So Nuala is all over the place emotionally,” Luc told his mother.

  He’d come by to check on her and see what he could find out about Shade’s missing cell phone. She, of course, had insisted he have a piece of her freshly made peach pie. Her wounded arm was out of the sling, but
he could see that she was still careful about how much she used it.

  “Your sister must feel the way I did when I was pregnant with you.”

  She set a dish in front of him, and he took a big bite. “Great as always, Mom.”

  “I made it because I know it’s your favorite.” She frowned. “How is your father taking the news about your sister?”

  “He doesn’t know yet. Or at least Nuala doesn’t think so. Though if Doyle knows, there’s no telling who he’s told.”

  “Perhaps I should call Cezar,” she said worriedly.

  About to take another bite, he set down his fork. “Stay away from Pop. You promised.”

  She couldn’t meet his gaze as she sat across from him. “I thought he might need someone to talk to.”

  “He has a wife,” he reminded her. “Nuala’s mother.” He knew his mother still loved Pop, that she always would. While she’d tried staying away from the man, she had her weak moments. Apparently this was one of them. “You were almost killed a week ago. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

  “All right.”

  He ate the rest of the pie on his dish and let his mother cool off.

  When he finished the last bite, Luc said, “So tell me again about that night.” He’d waited until the right moment since he didn’t want her to think he’d come by to drill her for information.

  “I’ve already told you,” she said, her tone odd. “Hot pain ripped through my arm, and then Shade pushed me out of the way to save my life. And died for his kindness.”

  “But what exactly did Shade want from you coming here so late at night?”

  “As I told you before, to find out what I knew about your father’s business.”

  She was lying. Or at least avoiding. Undoubtedly that was information Shade had wanted, but there was something else, something she wasn’t telling him. Normally he could read her, but she’d long ago developed skills dealing with a child who could get inside her head. She’d learned how to keep him out when she wanted to keep something from him.

  “What is it, Mom? What don’t you want me to know?”

  She shook her head.

  “I need to know everything. You’re a target. And Skye has made herself one, too. I wish I could keep her out of this, but I can’t. I fear for her safety, too.”