Hunter's Heart ap-4

by J. D. Tyler

“Were you close enough to identify him as a human?”

  “No. I’m glad we weren’t that close, because that was some scary shit and we weren’t equipped to fight him.”

  “Just as well. Because I know who he is.”

  Neither of them had a clue where he was going. It sure wasn’t where Ryon imagined.

  “In the files, test subject 356’s real name was recorded on a single document that took forever to find, and I almost missed it.” He looked at Ryon’s mate. “The name wouldn’t have meant much if Jesse hadn’t called the other day, telling me your dad had been trying to reach you.”

  Daria swallowed, growing dread on her face. “Please don’t say what I think you are.”

  “I’m sorry. But subject 356’s name was Ben Cantrell.”

  “Oh, God,” she rasped. “Are you sure?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Jesse called in some favors, got us a DNA sample from hair in Cantrell’s bathroom. Our own lab performed the DNA test, cross-referencing it with samples of the creature’s saliva that was found on the victims.”

  “No.”

  “The creature is Cantrell,” he said gently. “Daria, I’m very sorry.”

  Her voice wobbled. “I scented him today, in my wolf form. It was Ben, all along.”

  Part of Ryon hated that she was so upset over the ex-boyfriend. But she had cared for the man at one time, and she had a good heart. It couldn’t be easy to hear this about someone she knew, so he forced down his irritation. Besides, he reminded himself, his mate had just spent an afternoon loving on him. Showing Ryon that she was his.

  “Can anything be done to help him?”

  “I think so, but it’s going to be damned difficult to pull off.” Opening a file, he slid it across the desk to her and Ryon. “I took the liberty of calling your father. I wanted some insight into Ben from his point of view, and I found out something interesting. Did you know that Cantrell once defended your dad’s brother, August, in a criminal case?”

  “Of course,” she said, brows drawing together. “It was right after we started dating. But what does his defending Uncle August have to do with anything?”

  “Plenty. I don’t mean to be indelicate, but you do realize that your uncle was not innocent of the charges Cantrell got dismissed, that he’s involved in a lot of nefarious dealings, correct?”

  “That’s why our visits to his estate tapered off over the years. He and my dad could never see eye to eye on that part of August’s life. As interesting as this trip down dysfunctional family memory lane is . . .”

  “Did you also know your uncle had dealings with a rich entrepreneur by the name of Evan Kerrigan?”

  Ryon groaned. “Fuck, no. Say it ain’t so, boss.”

  “Wish I could.”

  “Someone clue me in? Who’s Evan Kerrigan?”

  Nick answered. “Kerrigan was an alias used by Malik, the Unseelie King, in his human disguise.”

  It clicked, and Daria’s eyes widened. “You’re saying my uncle was in on all of that sick experimentation on the shifters? That—that he’s somehow to blame for what’s been done to Ben?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Nick told her. “When I delved deeper into your uncle’s history, I learned that Dr. Gene Bowman was a good friend of his. Your uncle was a financial benefactor of his, along with Malik.”

  Ryon digested that. “So, you think her uncle had his eye on Ben as a test subject, bided his time, and then, when Ben and Daria broke up, he took the opportunity to snatch the poor bastard?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how it happened. Now, what I’ve been able to learn is that August Bradford keeps all of his files on his computer at home. Never trusted leaving them at an office somewhere. They’re much safer with him.” He looked at Daria, who was nodding. “Tell Ryon why.”

  “Nobody who doesn’t know the layout of my uncle’s place could possibly hope to steal his files. His estate is only accessible by helicopter. There’s no road in or out, and it’s situated smack in the middle of fifty or so miles of forest in northern Virginia. The Shenandoah River isn’t far from his place.”

  “How close are you to your uncle?” Nick asked.

  “Not at all. And if he’s behind what happened to Ben and so many others, I want to do whatever it takes to bring him down,” she said fiercely.

  “I’m glad you feel that way, because I have an assignment for Ryon. And the catch is, he’s going to need you to accompany him.”

  Ryon bolted upright. “No way. My mate does not go with me on any mission. Ever.”

  “Um, hello. Your mate is right here, and she can make her own decisions,” she hissed angrily.

  “Daria—”

  “We’ll hear Nick out, but it’s my decision.”

  She was not going to be swayed. His heart sank as he realized that winning this battle would cost him in the long run. If he left her behind, he’d damage important trust between them. Son of a bitch.

  “Fine.”

  Nick went on. “I believe your uncle has in his possession a lot of important documents about more test subjects, shipments of designer drugs used on shifters, and lists of who’s been in business with him. But I also believe that he never would have allowed these experiments without a fail-safe.”

  “An antidote,” Ryon said. “Of course!”

  “I believe it’s on his computer with everything else we’ll need. But we need Daria to get you two in and out. She knows the layout of her uncle’s estate, his habits. She knows him.”

  “Just us? None of the others will go with us?”

  “No. This has to be a quiet op. Aric and Jax will drop you off. You both get in, access the files, get out undetected. They pick you up again and we have the lab work on the serum. The next time you guys find the creature, he’ll get dosed.”

  “That’s a tall order.” Ryon shook his head. “I don’t like it. I want her to stay here.”

  “I’ll make this simple—without both of you, the op will fail. You know I don’t interfere with free will, but I’m stating the facts. The decision is up to you two.”

  “If we don’t go?” Ryon asked.

  “Maybe one day we’ll get another shot at the antidote, and the rest of the files, but that day will be far into the future. In the meantime, lives will be lost without that information—some of them close to us.”

  “Jesus. You play hardball.”

  “Again, your choice.”

  He met Daria’s gaze, read the determination there. She was fit, knew the outdoors, could handle herself in that environment as well as he could, probably better. If he left her behind, put their lives before others, it would cause a rift that might never heal.

  “We’ll do it.”

  The relief and gratitude on her face was his reward. He just hoped that information was there, as it was supposed to be. That putting his mate at risk was worth it when they saved lives.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I’m not worried about that. It’s me letting you down that has me afraid. Stick with me all the way, okay?”

  “You bet.”

  Nick rose. “You’ve got an hour to pack, and you’ll study the map on the way. Take enough supplies for a two-day hike going and coming.” He winked at Daria. “A piece of cake for our wildlife biologist.”

  She started out, and he caught her arm. “I’ll just be a second.”

  “I’ll wait down the hall.”

  Once she was gone, Ryon posed his burning question. “Will I come home from this op alive?”

  “I don’t know,” the commander replied honestly.

  “But you wouldn’t tell me if you could?”

  “Something like that.” His voice was strong. “But I do know that you need her on this one. If she doesn’t go, the op will fail. And you won’t make it home at all.”

  “Christ,” he muttered. “Better get moving, then, right?”

  “I’ll help you as much as I can from here
. You need me, just speak to me.”

  “I will.” He shook his boss’s hand, then gave him a slight smile. “Until I get home.”

  “You bet.”

  Yep, it must suck to know the future.

  In that moment, Ryon wouldn’t trade places with Nick for all the money in the world.

  * * *

  Aric and Jax had dropped them off miles from August Bradford’s estate with the promise that Ryon would keep in touch, and promise to contact them the instant he knew they were ready for extraction. In advance if possible.

  The plan was to pick them up in the same spot. But plans had a way of going FUBAR.

  Ryon thought Daria endured the helicopter ride pretty well, considering her white-knuckled fear of flying. She’d gripped his hand tightly the whole time, face ashen, but never commented. After they’d been dropped off, they had hiked the rest of the day, slept that night. Got up and hiked again. While hot, sweaty, and itchy, the trip was uneventful. Scarily so. That should have been his clue that things were about to go tits up.

  Getting onto the estate was nerve-racking but surprisingly simple. Daria knew the secret places to hide, the guards’ routine. She knew the best route inside, and that the best time to breach the premises was around two in the morning, when the men on watch were sleepy and complacent from guarding such a remote place where nothing ever happened.

  Positioning himself in the shadows beside the French doors of the bedroom where she had stayed as a child, he used a claw to cut the glass. Reached inside and unlocked the bolt. Then he gave her a kiss.

  “Be careful,” he mouthed.

  “I will.”

  And then she was gone. The wait stretched out, interminable.

  * * *

  Dammit straight to hell and back again.

  Daria hunched over, intent on the computer screen, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on the keys. If her uncle or one of his minions caught them here, in his private study, they would make certain she and Ryon disappeared without a trace. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten away with murder—but these days August didn’t have Gene Bowman to plot with, and the Pack was on to him.

  August was going to pay for his part in what he’d done to Ben.

  On the heels of that thought, a pair of sad blue eyes haunted her, steeling her resolve. She had resisted Ryon, denied their mating in the beginning, causing them so much grief before she understood—hurting her mate was the same as hurting herself.

  She hadn’t believed she had a place in his world. Hadn’t wanted to accept that she had no say in her own life and he had taken that as rejection.

  But she would make it up to Ryon now by helping him and his team see this through. And then August, the bastard, would hang. Beaten at his own despicable game.

  Even better than a bullet to his brain.

  Right. She’d keep telling herself that, and one day the lie might wash.

  “Come on, come on . . .”

  The annoying security box popped up again, demanding the correct password. Obviously her dad had been wrong about which one would get her inside. They needed her uncle’s medical research notes, his “black book” with the names of his contacts, quantities and dates of massive drug shipments. Drugs that were harmful to shifters, caused addictions of all sorts—and some that created mutant horrors like what Ben had become.

  Enough evidence to put August away for good, at her fingertips. And she couldn’t get at it.

  Ryon’s urgent voice pushed into her head. Baby, get out of there!

  I’m coming, she answered. Five minutes.

  Hurry.

  She glanced out the window at the lightening sky and had to resist pounding her fist on the desk in frustration. She needed more time, and they had none left.

  Any moment the estate and surrounding compound would stir to life. Disheartened, she removed her thumb drive from the computer. So close. She put it back in the waterproof bag, then zipped the whole thing inside her backpack. After tidying the desk and taking one last look around to make certain she’d left the area exactly as it had been, she eased into the corridor.

  Voices and heavy footsteps drifted from the far end around the corner, heading her way at a brisk pace. As fast as she dared without making noise, Daria spun in the opposite direction. Thank goodness they weren’t between her and the escape route. Still, she wasn’t out of danger.

  She wound her way through the maze of corridors, listening as the estate began to awaken. Tonight they would finish the job if it was the last thing they did. Twenty-four hours from now, the information they needed would be in the hands of the Institute’s lab people, and a cure could be found for Ben and any other humans and shifters who were out there suffering. God, what she wouldn’t give to see the shock on August’s despicable face when he realized what she’d done.

  Perhaps she would leave her uncle a taunting note guaranteed to give him an even nastier surprise. With this gratifying thought, she let herself back into the guest room and closed the door, leaning against it to calm her jumping nerves. Shoving back a strand of long black hair that had escaped the confines of her ponytail, she blew out a deep breath.

  Then she headed for the French doors. She got halfway across the floor before it hit her.

  Something was different.

  She froze and listened. Nothing moved. The bedroom appeared empty and yet the atmosphere had thickened like the gathering of a storm, morphing into a very real sense of presence. Menacing. Precise as a laser beam, the feeling centered between her shoulder blades.

  The closet?

  Too late, Daria planted her feet and tensed, ready to confront the unseen threat. A disturbance in the air fanned against her back and before she could turn, a muscular arm snaked around her middle just under her breasts, jerking her back hard. Her breath left in a rush as she slammed against the unyielding form of a massive body. A familiar body, along with the masculine scent of earth and sweat that made her wolf howl with delight.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed.

  “Came to get my mate out of here.” Kissing her temple, he grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the French doors. “Let’s go.”

  Daria hurried to match his stride as he hauled her out into the morning. He skirted the back of the house, making his way to the most secluded area of the compound, then stopped. Standing still, he listened for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. The morning had lightened enough that she could make out his profile and the concerned frown pulling down the corners of his mouth.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He held up a hand to shush her. One minute crept by. Two. Daria began to grow impatient and started to tell him so, but he interrupted in the barest whisper.

  “What do you see? Hear?”

  “Nothing. Why—”

  “Shh.”

  Complete silence. Even the forest ahead, which should have been coming to noisy life with the chatter of birds, stood mute as if someone had flipped an off switch.

  “Ambush,” he breathed, palming his pistol. “Run.”

  The import of his words hardly had time to register when all hell broke loose. Ryon yanked her around the corner of the house, setting off at a dead run with her in tow as dozens of men with rifles materialized from behind the wall they would’ve scaled. Shouting and cursing, August’s security force opened fire.

  Long legs pumping, he ran full out, never letting go of her wrist. Daria stumbled, heart in her throat, as more of August’s goons rounded the opposite side of the house to intercept them. He veered off and cut through the gardens, using the lush greenery as a cover of sorts from the bullets pelting around them.

  Panic washed over her. She and her mate possessed special abilities, but even they would stand little chance against dozens of bullets. How had August learned they were here? For now they were forced to abort their mission. But if they survived this crazy scenario, she’d find a way for them to double back and finish what they’d come for.

  Ryon hesitate
d, scanning the wide expanse of cultivated lawn in front of the estate. Surely he didn’t mean to do what it appeared.

  He did. The man sprinted across the yard, heading straight for the imposing iron gates at the end of the lawn. Beyond that was nothing but forest. They couldn’t have been more exposed if they’d posted targets on their backs, and there was no time to liberate a copter from her uncle.

  They skidded to a halt at the gates next to the keypad, and he thrust her toward the panel.

  “Do you know the code?”

  Men streamed around the house, rifles poised, closing the gap.

  “Dad gave it to me, but there’s not enough time—”

  “The code, Daria!”

  Daria punched in the numbers as he dropped to a crouch, tucking the pistol in his waistband and whipping the M16 off his back. So many of them. It struck her as pathetic, one lone man against August’s force. Like an ant biting an elephant.

  Her mate fired several rounds and they responded in kind. She hit the ground with him, praying as the pop and groan of the mechanism began to swing open the gates. Tiny puffs of dirt kicked up by gunfire came much too close.

  “Go! Go!”

  Daria shot to her feet and slapped the button to close the gates again, then he hurled her toward the opening. The gates began to reverse direction, and he just managed to slide through after her before they clanged shut.

  Clasping her hand, he dragged her through the dense forest, changing directions several times. Once, he halted at the base of a tree, grabbing a heavy backpack he’d left hidden close to the estate. He shrugged it over his shoulders without missing a beat. His pace never faltered, save when the thick undergrowth hampered their progress. Eventually the yells of August’s goons faded and disappeared. She’d always stayed in good physical condition, but she thought her lungs might explode if he didn’t slow down.

  No matter. She’d die before asking him for any favors because she’d practically forced him to allow her to come. He might’ve read her mind. Where the foliage gave way to a tiny clearing, he stopped and turned to face her, his broad chest heaving.

  Sweet Jesus. He affected her like this every time.

  Her mate was a sexy beast. Camouflage pants hugged his long thighs and a matching T-shirt with the sleeves cut out displayed the ropy muscles in his arms. Tousled blond hair fell into his blue eyes. He stood with his booted feet planted apart, his gaze like twin lasers raking her in kind. Two hundred pounds of powerful male.