Branded by Fire p-6

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Branded by Fire p-6 Page 6

by Nalini Singh


  He held her for another couple of seconds, pure male muscle and heated skin. “We need to make time.”

  It was an order.

  The cat hissed. The woman narrowed her eyes. “What you need to do is let go of me before I give you some scars that won’t heal over as quick.”

  One big hand skated down her back to tease the top edge of her jeans. “I bet if I touched you now, I’d find you silky and hot and damp.”

  Her stomach grew taut as his fingers slid in past the denim, a little rough, all determined. Pushing. He was pushing her. But she was no tabby cat. She was a leopard. Biting those sensuous wolf lips just hard enough to sting, she shoved away using a move that snaked her out of his hold. “I meant what I said, Riley. Once was enough.” Liar, liar.

  He didn’t attempt to grab her again, watching her dress with eyes gone amber as he finished pulling on his own clothes. “That’s not what your body says.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not the best judge of character.” Ignoring the weight of his gaze, she scraped her hair into a tight ponytail, having finally remembered stuffing a thick rubber band into her jeans as she left work a couple of days earlier. “I’ve got no room in my life for a male who’s going to tell me what to do.”

  “This is just sex.”

  He was trying to make her mad. As if she’d fall for that. “Oh, puhleeze.” Snorting, she went to grab her boots. “Nothing’s just sex with men like you—the instant you take a lover, you become all ‘I man, you woman. You do as I say.’ ” And no matter how much she wanted a mate, Mercy couldn’t submit. Not that way. Not to a man who wanted her to be something different. It would break her. “Then you beat your chests and howl at the moon.”

  Riley wasn’t amused. “You don’t think you can handle me?”

  Okay, so maybe he was really good at pushing her buttons. “I said I don’t have the time.” Hopping on one foot, she put on her boot.

  Fighting the urge to trap her against the tree and bring this conversation down to the basics, Riley fisted his hands. Mercy sucked in a breath at almost the same instant. He froze. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  But her teeth were gritted in obvious pain. Looking down at the bare foot she was now holding off the ground, he quickly made the connection. “What did you step on?” His wolf rose to the surface, protective and more than a little possessive.

  “Nothing.”

  Stubborn cat.

  He headed over and knelt down in front of her, lifting her foot higher so he could look at the sole. “This nothing sure looks like a big, fat thorn.” It angered him to see her flesh marred by the spike that had already drawn blood.

  Her hand landed on his shoulder as she balanced herself. “I can take care of it.”

  Instead of dropping her foot, he held on tighter. “Have you had your shots?” he asked, knowing she’d hate any kind of sympathy. Mercy was as proud as they came. And for some reason, it was important to him that that pride never be crushed. “I don’t want to catch rabies.”

  “Ha-ha,” she muttered, but her voice was strained. “Since you won’t let go, can you get it out?”

  He checked the ground to make sure there were no other dangers. Mercy’s opinions on the matter notwithstanding, he was a protector. Taking care of the woman he was rapidly coming to consider his own was as natural to him as breathing. “It’ll be easier if you sit.” He didn’t offer to help her down, just watched to make sure she didn’t hurt herself any more.

  Once she had her back to the trunk, he put her foot on his lap and grimaced. “It won’t be pretty—I think your skin’s started to heal around it.” That was the problem with changelings—they healed quickly, especially when it came to minor flesh wounds. But if this healed over, the thorn would remain embedded in her heel.

  “Do it.” She set her jaw.

  Shifting so his back was to her, he pressed the flesh on either side of the thorn with enough force to send it through the surface. He heard Mercy suck in another breath, knew she was hurting. The damn thorn had barbs. His wolf swept over his skin, hackles raised. Every male instinct in him wanted to give comfort, but he knew Mercy would hate that with a capital H. “You know,” he said, fighting to keep his tone even, “I think I see a family resemblance. Maybe that’s why it was drawn to you.”

  “You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” It was a little breathless.

  Another hard press got the thorn most of the way out. “Say ahhhh.” One final application of pressure and the ugly thing was out. He made sure to crush it using a claw before dropping it to the ground.

  Mercy didn’t say a word as he checked the already healing wound. He was fast about it, but thorough. “I don’t think it left any traces. Get Tammy to have a look anyway.”

  “It’ll be fully healed in another hour.”

  He shot her a narrow-eyed look, noting her strained expression. “Do you want me to report you to your healer?”

  She glared daggers at him, color rapidly returning. “I want you to let go of my foot.”

  He kept hold, gently massaging the area around the wound, ensuring good blood flow. It would help her heal even faster. “Will you see Tammy?”

  “Yes! Fine! Can we go now?”

  “In a second.” He checked the wound again. “It’ll be a bit tender to walk on until it heals. Be careful.”

  It looked like she was going to snap something at him but she clamped her mouth shut and put on her remaining sock and boot. Standing, she tested the foot. “It’s fine. The sucker just hurt like hell while it was in there.”

  Riley nodded, but kept his eye on her balance. It was good. His wolf retreated. “Let’s head in.” Grabbing the identity bracelet, he slid it into a pocket.

  Mercy folded her arms. “Thanks.” It was a grumpy acknowledgment.

  “So gracious.”

  As she closed her eyes as if to count to ten, he felt the wolf rise again, this time with pure mischief as its aim. “You never answered my question.”

  “What?”

  “Whether you’re running from us because you don’t think you can handle me.”

  “I did answer it. I said I didn’t have time.”

  “Chicken.” Said as they came within hearing distance of the men and women guarding the house.

  Mercy’s mouth fell open. Surely she’d heard wrong. Surely solid, staid, stick-in-the-mud Riley Aedan Kincaid had not dared her by calling her a chicken?! “What did you say?”

  “You heard.” He greeted the four others who’d joined Monroe and Owen. Two of them were wolves.

  Monroe walked over. “I saw nothing under the house that could’ve been used to pipe gas into the home, but I’ll make sure the techs recheck,” he told them. “Thing is, Owen does some sharpshooting—he says if you were good enough, you might be able to get some sort of gas pellet through the little vent in the bathroom.”

  “That vent is tiny,” Mercy muttered.

  Riley made a sound of disagreement. “I know two men who could do it.”

  Dorian and Judd. Nodding, she glanced at Monroe. “Tell the techs to pay extra attention to that area when they arrive.” Raising her voice, she held up a hand. “Owen and Monroe, stay on the house. Rest of you—with us.”

  Mercy hit pay dirt barely five minutes into the search. She knocked on the door of a small cottage with frilly curtains and a garden so neat that no weed would dare show its head, and found herself being scrutinized by a tiny woman with such strength of will in her that it fairly pulsed in the air. Bright brown eyes looked Mercy up and down. “So, you tumbled that wolf you were with?”

  Mercy was too much a pack animal to take offense at the personal question. She grinned. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Do I look senile to you?” Not waiting for a response, she continued. “I was coming out to you, but you took off too fast.”

  Every sentinel instinct came on alert. “You saw something?”

  For an answer, the woman picked up a piece of paper
from a table beside the door and shoved it at Mercy. “Registration number of the van that was parked here for much too long—I knew they were up to mischief.”

  “Did you call Enforcement?”

  “ ’Course I did.” A pause. “Got a nephew in there. Good kid. He says it was off a stolen vehicle. But I wrote down the description of the van, too.”

  Mercy was already pulling out her cell to get the DarkRiver techs onto surveillance.

  “So?” her informant prompted before she could code in the call.

  “Yes,” Mercy said. “And I’m not doing it again.” If she kept telling herself that, maybe her traitorous body would actually notice and shut up with its demands.

  The older woman gave her a sour look. “Damn shame. What, you like them prettier?” A snort. “In my day, we liked men who looked like men.”

  Mercy had no chance to reply, finding the door shut in her face. Everyone was a critic today. And coming on top of Riley’s “chicken” taunt, it didn’t put her in the best of moods. But the tech answered then and she gave him the info. He promised to get back to her the second they had anything.

  Riley was waiting for her by the curb, explaining how the old lady knew what he looked like. “Get anything?”

  The woman’s words in her mind, she ran her eyes over him as she shared the intel. He definitely looked like a man, she thought, all hard and solid and rough. Strength, there was incredible strength in Riley. Which made the gentleness of his hold as he’d gotten that thorn out of her foot all the more extraordinary.

  She knew what he’d been up to with those cracks of his. Damn wolf had been looking after her. And he’d done it right. Even now, the leopard didn’t know quite what to make of it, so she concentrated on the hunt. “It’s a good lead.”

  “There’s something wrong with this,” Riley muttered, rubbing at a jaw that already bore the faint shadow of afternoon stubble. “That chip tells us this was an elite Alliance force, but why would they leave the evidence behind if they’re so organized? And being so careless with the van?”

  “You thinking the chip could be a plant?”

  He looked down the street, as if seeing what had happened the night before. “I had a call from Lucas while you were talking with your informant—Nash’s professor says he’s being courted by several Psy firms.”

  Mercy blinked. “Psy are very, very insular. Especially with R & D. Why would they want a changeling?”

  “A gifted changeling. Nash’s apparently a genius in nanotech. And we both know the Council is missing two of its top technical scientists.”

  Mercy blew out a breath between her teeth. “The Implant Protocol crashed and burned with Ashaya’s broadcasts.” That protocol had been meant to turn the individuals of the PsyNet into a true hive mind, interconnected and seamless.

  “Yeah, but what if someone’s got the idea to keep it on the back burner for the future?” He shrugged. “It’s a theory.”

  “But if you’re right, either the Psy took Nash and pinned the blame on the Human Alliance, or—”

  “The Alliance took him and did a sloppy job.”

  Mercy rubbed her forehead. “Or we could be screwing ourselves up by making this too complicated.”

  “I guess we’ll find out when we find Nash.”

  She jerked up her head, hearing a very dangerous thread in his voice. “Hey, cut that out. We’re in a human neighborhood.”

  The eyes that looked at her weren’t brown anymore. “And this is wolf territory.”

  “Leopard and wolf.” She refused to back down under that predatory gaze, though it chilled her to the soul. She’d never seen Riley lose it like that. And so rapidly. “What flipped your lid?”

  “If Nash is hurt, Willow’s going to blame herself for not being able to help her brother.”

  Oh. “He won’t be—he’s a predatory changeling. We’re not easy to kill.” She made her voice as arrogant as she could. “Now, pull yourself out of that slobbering mess of self-pity and get with the program. This isn’t about you.”

  Riley stared at her with those cold wolf eyes, a rich amber that held pure menace. “One day,” he said calmly, “your mouth is going to get you into more trouble than you can handle.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Mercy felt a whisper of relief brush across her face. She was confident she could hold off Riley in a real fight long enough for help to arrive, but if he truly went wolf on her, there was a high chance he’d kill her. Unless she cheated. Which, in a fight to the death, she absolutely would. Sometimes, it wasn’t about strength, it was about intelligence. “Oh?” she said, and very deliberately ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip.

  Riley sucked in a breath and the wolf was gone between one heartbeat and the next. “Using sex to distract me?”

  “Whatever works.” Oddly enough, much as she liked to piss him off, she didn’t like to see Riley hurting. Not over this. He’d gone through hell when Brenna had been abducted. So now, she grinned and said, “Plus, I know you’re going to be tormented by that image the rest of the day.”

  To her surprise, Riley’s lips curved. Just a little. Just enough to make her stomach dive. “So, you want to play, kitty cat?”

  “Men.” A disdainful snort, but Riley saw the flash of something richer, hotter, far more enticing in those changeable leopard eyes. Good. Because this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  “Can we get back to work now?” An arch question.

  No one ever talked to him like Mercy. If he hadn’t had her all but purring for him only a night ago, he’d have imagined she didn’t know how. “There’s not much more we can do at this stage.” He thought over their options. “Lucas and Hawke have taken care of getting the word out to our informants, and looks like the Bakers weren’t able to give us any other possibilities to investigate. Have the comm lines been tapped?”

  She nodded. “Nate organized it. Techs know to check all other cell phones and computers in the house—data’ll go through to Dorian automatically.” The blond sentinel was a genius at computers. “He’ll alert us if anything jumps out.”

  “I’ll get Brenna to work on the satellite end of things.”

  Mercy knew SnowDancer had full control of at least one satellite so that made sense. “I also tagged some out-of-state packmates while we were back at Tammy’s. They’re going to go chat with Nash’s friends at MIT.”

  “Then, until we get a tip about the van, or the scene processing team comes up with something, we wait. Could be the abductors contact us.”

  Mercy made a sound of frustration. “I hate waiting.”

  “Leopards are good stalkers.”

  “The human half of me prefers action.” Kicking at the grass, she nodded. “Okay, you’re right. Are you going to head back to the den or stay down here?”

  He glanced at his watch. It was five after four. There was a chance something would break today. “We might as well go over the new training schedule.”

  “I’d rather eat needles.” But she started walking back to their vehicle. “Why did we think it was a good idea for the cat and wolf juveniles to mix?”

  “So the alliance would become stronger.” Riley wasn’t sure anyone had realized how volatile the combination would be. Leopards and wolves were both predators used to being at the top of the food chain. Add teenage hormones to the pot and you had a recipe for trouble. “It needs to be done.”

  Mercy’s cell phone rang before she could respond. “Yeah?”

  “Merce,” came Rina’s voice, “I’m tracking two gorgeous men heading to your place. Do I let them go?”

  “They’ve got safe passage,” Mercy muttered, rubbing at her temples. She loved her grandmother to pieces, but she was going to strangle her for this. “And I don’t plan to be home anytime this century.”

  “You need to make time, because wow. Hot. Beautifully, lickably hot.”

  “You’re welcome to them.”

  “Oh, no, I think they most definitely want you.”


  Mercy hung up to the sound of the younger woman’s laughter . . . and realized Riley’s wolf was in his eyes. “Don’t go there.” She immediately turned down the volume of her phone.

  “Who are they?”

  “No one you need to concern yourself about.” Shoving the phone into a pocket, she raised an eyebrow. “You hungry?” Neither of them had eaten since before lunch.

  It took him a long time to respond, but he finally nodded. “Yeah.”

  They ended up parking in front of a fast-food place along a small suburban shopping strip. “Meat and grease. Yum.” She licked her lips, stomach rumbling. “I luuuuuuve burgers.”

  “It’s crowded,” was Riley’s only comment.

  “You can sit in the car. I’ll bring you something after I finish eating.” A smirk. “It’ll be cold and congealed but hey, wolves have no taste buds anyway, right?”

  He got out and followed her to the restaurant. When he paid for her order, she shrugged and decided that was one battle she didn’t care to fight. With predatory changeling men, you had to make some allowances, or you’d give yourself a concussion. They were that bloody hardheaded. And since she still wasn’t letting Riley drive, this was a good enough compromise.

  Not that Riley thought so. His expression was so irritated when they took their seats that the teenagers sitting at the next table—a group of nonpredatory changeling kids—gave them wary looks.

  “Relax,” she told the kids. “He’s just grumpy because they didn’t have sweet-and-sour sauce.”

  One of the girls ventured a nervous smile, but the kids went back to their meal.

  Riley thrust a burger at her. “Put that in your mouth.”

  “Are you telling me to shut my piehole?” She bit down on her burger and made a low purring sound in the back of her throat. “Nice.” It came out “Niishe.”

  Riley ate half a burger with one bite, then started on the biscuits they’d both added to their orders. When she stole his fries, he didn’t even growl. The cat decided to be nice to him during the meal, given that the food was clearly mellowing him out. She was on her third burger—hey, she was hungry—and he was on his fourth when the hairs on the back of her neck rose in warning, even as Riley went predator-still.

 

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