by Dani Harper
She sat cross-legged, facing the front of the cage so she could watch the doorway on the other side of the room. Her body was still, but her mind was busy. Despite her words, she didn’t have a lot of hope that she’d find an ally among the humans who worked here. If IBC paid Nate as much as he’d said for her and Anya, they weren’t likely to let her go just because she was wearing blue jeans.
No, her best chance was to try to make contact with someone on the outside. More than anything, she wished she could talk to Josh. She owed him a huge apology for the hurtful things she’d said, made all the worse because they weren’t true. He’d accused her of being scared, and he was right. Fear had made her push him away, deny her own heart. She was still afraid, of course, but Nate’s casual betrayal had given her a whole new perspective on Birkie’s words—“Honey, it’s the heart that counts. Being a Changeling doesn’t necessarily make a man good relationship material. And being human isn’t a reason to write somebody off. There are good and bad individuals in both species. ”
Good and bad. And Kenzie had ditched the good in a meltdown of misdirected fear. Way to go. She sighed and tried to focus on the task at hand. She couldn’t broadcast a general message that all shapeshifters could hear or Nate would pick it up too. Instead, she had to tightly focus her mindspeech and direct it to a specific individual—and there was only one Changeling she knew of who might hear her. If he was in range. And if he was still alive.
Chapter Nineteen
“Jesus, Stanton, you’re bleeding like a stuck pig.” Josh blotted at the head wound, trying to clean it so he could get a better look, but the old vet’s unruly hair kept getting in the way. Finally Josh gave up and simply applied a pressure bandage.
“Ow, dammit, be careful.”
“I thought you said it’s not as bad now.”
“It’s not. Changing form tends to improve things. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting like a sonofabitch.”
Improve, hell. How bad had the gash been before? And his arm was definitely broken. “Come on, we’re going to the clinic.”
“Fine. I can take care of my own wounds, you know.”
Stanton obviously thought he was going to his veterinary office and slowly but willingly followed his friend back along the game trail to the clearing and then to the truck. Josh wisely didn’t say anything different until he pulled up in front of the Glennallen Medical Clinic. There, they argued for ten full minutes before Stanton reluctantly agreed to be looked at. Once a doctor came on the scene and Josh was confident Stanton wouldn’t sneak out, he left to gas up the truck and think. It had nearly ripped him in two to leave the trail behind with Kenzie and Anya both missing, and he was anxious to return, even though the sun had dipped below the horizon.
At least Josh now knew where Anya was because Stanton had overheard some of the hunters’ conversation. That information plus the familiar white ATVs and unusual dogs cinched it: the little wolf had been taken to IBC. Kenzie was certain to have followed her to the facility and heaven only knew how that had turned out. The minute he was sure Stanton was going to be okay, Josh was going after her. Maybe Kenzie had simply walked up to the gate, talked nicely to the IBC staff, and walked away with Anya. Maybe Josh didn’t have to worry about rescuing either one of them. But if everything was rainbows and unicorns, why had the little Afghan girl been appearing to him? Nope, he was going with his gut on this one and his gut said he needed to be prepared.
As he paid for the gas, a monstrous yellow Humvee pulled up to a pump. The big vehicle looked ridiculous in that color—it practically glowed in the goddamn dark. The thing sported a shiny chrome bumper too, unlike the practical dust-colored workhorses that Humvees were in Afghanistan.. . . With a start, Josh recognized Nate Richardson behind the wheel and instantly all of his senses shot to high alert. When he was a child learning how to track, his father had told him to look for things that were out of place. Richardson was definitely out of place in such a small town, even more so than his silly macho truck.
“Nate, isn’t it? Didn’t expect to see you outside of the big city.”
Richardson looked up from the pump as Josh approached. There was a split second delay between recognizing Josh and putting on a smile. Josh could also see a faint ripple of unearthly green in the blue aura that surrounded the big Changeling, usually a sign of anger. So Richardson was pissed to see him? Good.
“Fund-raising takes me to all kinds of exotic locations. Just passing through. What about you?”
“Home base.”
Nate glanced around. He made no comment but his expression made obvious what he thought of Glennallen. Josh ignored it and pressed on. “So, Nate, you’re good friends with Kenzie. Didn’t happen to visit her camp today, did you?”
There was a faint, barely perceptible change in the man’s pupils, but he recovered quickly. “The last time I saw her, she was with you,” Nate said lightly, as he clicked off the gas nozzle. “Lose her already, did you?” He smirked and swiped his credit card on the pump face.
It was obvious to Josh that the guy was hiding something. Civilian life was complicated, however. In Afghanistan, Josh could have pulled Richardson in for questioning, but here, he hadn’t the slightest authority over this man unless he mowed down a moose with that big-ass vehicle. “Haven’t been able to raise her on her cell phone, that’s all. With all the bear problems she’s had, I’m a little concerned.”
“I’m sure she’s happily digging in the dirt somewhere. Probably just forgot to turn her phone on. You don’t know her like I do—we have a long and intimate history—or you’d know how forgetful she gets when she’s working on a project.”
On the outside, Josh didn’t react to Richardson’s baiting and maintained his casual facade. On the inside, he couldn’t help wishing the jerk was human....
“Tell you what,” said Nate, wiping his hands. “If I see her, I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.” He waved airily as he got in the Humvee. “See you around.”
Bet on it. As the Humvee sped off toward Anchorage, there was no doubt in Josh’s mind that the jerk knew exactly where Kenzie was. And if Josh hadn’t also known where she was, he had no doubt he’d be cleaning Richardson’s clock right now to get the information. The guy was a shapeshifter, sure, but his attention could probably be gotten with a two-by-four.
Josh turned to look at the tiny figure standing where the bright yellow Humvee had been parked. The air was still but her red and green clothes fluttered in some cosmic breeze and her big dark eyes regarded Josh solemnly. “I know,” he said to her. “He’s involved with this somehow but I’ll deal with him later. I’m going to get Anya and Kenzie first, make sure they’re safe.” The apparition faded from his sight then, and he released a shaky breath, glancing around to see if anyone had observed him talking to himself.
Christ, he was never going to get used to this.
The harsh fluorescent lighting of the hospital lobby contrasted starkly with the moonlit night just outside the door. Josh blinked, willing his eyes to accept the unnatural brightness, and nearly ran into a young doctor in the hallway.
“You brought in Bygood Stanton, right? Your friend will have to give up rock climbing for a while.” The guy referred to a clipboard in his hands. “Fracture of the radius and ulna—that’s both bones of the right forearm. The usual treatment is surgical placement of a plate and screws, but Mr. Stanton has refused this. I’ve set and cast it as best as I can, but it’s going to be incredibly fragile. Maybe you can talk some sense into him, because I just can’t guarantee it’ll heal properly.”
A plate and screws ... Josh imagined that wouldn’t work so well on a shapeshifter. The thought of what would happen to them during the conversion from human to animal made him queasy. Small wonder Stanton had refused the surgery.
“The proximal humerus is also fractured—that’s his shoulder—but the only way to manage that is to place his arm in a sling.”
“He’s okay otherwise?”
&
nbsp; The doctor all but rolled his eyes. “Depends how you define okay. There’s extensive bruising. Had to stitch a couple of the lacerations in his scalp. And he’ll have a lot of pain in that arm and shoulder, of course. We’d like him to stay overnight for observation, but he’s not receptive to that idea. If you’re willing to watch him, I’ll discharge him.” He headed off down the hallway, no doubt to spread cheer to some other poor souls.
Josh entered the hospital room and was jolted by how pale Stanton seemed against the white sheets. His eyes were closed, and his eyebrows looked wilder than ever when unrestrained by his glasses, but he was perfectly alert. “There’s a woman who won’t stop talking in my head,” he muttered.
“What?”
Stanton opened his eyes. “There’s a woman who won’t quit talking to me. Here I am, a shell of a man, and I can’t get a lick of sleep until I pass on the message.”
“Kenzie? Are you talking to Kenzie?”
“Barely. It’s quite a distance. But her broadcast is coming in loud and clear. Adrenaline will do that to you.”
“Why would she need—”
“Looks like she’s been captured, bud, just like Anya. IBC’s got her locked up tight and they know what she is.”
It happened too fast. Josh wasn’t prepared for the emotions that suddenly ripped through him, and he plowed his fist into the nearest wall. “ Shit. Why’d she have to go off by herself? I shouldn’t have left her alone, I should never have left her alone.” And I should have cleaned Richardson’s clock when I had the chance.
Stanton surveyed the large hole punched in the drywall with a barely raised eyebrow. “It’s my fault that any of this happened. Kenzie wouldn’t be a prisoner if I’d managed to protect Anya.”
“Bullshit. You might be a shapeshifter but you’re not a superhero. Who knew that you were going to have to deal with bears and dogs and hunters all at once? You wanna lay a guilt trip on somebody, then put it on Kenzie and me for leaving you alone.” He blew out a breath. “Or we could all come to our senses and go after who’s really responsible: IBC.”
“You’re mounting a rescue mission?”
“Damn right.”
The vet nodded. “Count me in.”
“You’re supposed to stay here overnight for observation.”
“So observe me. But I’m going.”
You didn’t go into a situation without intel, you didn’t go in without a plan, and you sure as hell didn’t go in alone.
Those were basic rules that kept soldiers alive in Afghanistan. It was tough to pay attention to rules, however, when every instinct Josh had was screaming at him to fly straight into the IBC compound and beat down their door with an M240 machine gun. The woman he loved was in a cage and a child was in danger. His heart wanted to charge in now, but his head knew better. This was a mission he couldn’t risk failing.
Already there were complications. Kenzie and Anya were not kept in the same area. At least eight other shapeshifters were imprisoned as well. At least he had some maps of the compound, thanks to Stanton’s conspiracy theorist hobbies. They’d gone to the vet’s house and Stanton had dug out the maps before Josh insisted he get some sleep. There were even some general layouts of the main building from its construction permit application. Added to the little sightseeing tour Josh had taken with his friend, he had no trouble orienting himself. But that was only part of the equation. He knew nothing about the security once he got past—if he got past—the formidable front gates. Just how many people lived and worked at IBC? Plus, he had no idea who their friends were, or who they’d call on for help if they were threatened. State troopers? Military? On-site mercenary? How fast would they respond?
He was trying to plan an operation that wouldn’t get anybody killed, and was rapidly realizing it might not be possible. His watch beeped—another hour had passed and Josh went into Stanton’s room to check on him again. He was sleeping well, his breathing even and easy, and his color looked better. Technically, Josh was supposed to wake him every hour, but his friend had assured him that it wasn’t necessary with werewolves. It was probably bullshit—Stanton likely just wanted to sleep.
Earlier, Stanton had gleaned everything that Kenzie could tell him, mind to mind, but she didn’t know much of what went on beyond her cage. What she did know was scary. IBC obviously had a hell of a lot of money, enough that they could afford to kidnap a dozen people with incredible abilities unknown to science, imprison them, and keep the whole thing secret. Worse, those prisoners were far more valuable to IBC’s purposes than the untold millions of dollars the company would make if they revealed them to the world.
With so much at stake, Josh knew that IBC was potentially more dangerous than a drug cartel. They’d have state-of-the-art electronic security in those shiny new buildings. The presence of dogs was already confirmed. And although IBC probably felt their isolated facility was safe, it stood to reason they’d have hired guns as well. He’d spotted one in a window when he and Stanton landed there. Now he was certain there’d be more. Not rent-a-cops, but people trained to protect IBC’s investment. Josh surveyed the weapons he’d laid out on the table. He could be dangerous too.
So far, however, he had no idea who he was going to tap for backup on this, and going alone was stupid. At best, he’d get taken out and then there’d be no one to help the prisoners. At worst, Kenzie and Anya could be hurt or killed. Stanton healed fast as a shapeshifter, but his arm and shoulder were going to take a few days. Meanwhile, Josh couldn’t involve law enforcement, not even his fellow wildlife officers, because he couldn’t risk Kenzie’s secret being revealed and the existence of shapeshifters making the national news. Too bad he didn’t know any changelings besides Stanton who could help him—
Or did he?
Josh pulled his cell phone out and looked at it. He had a number and a name. To borrow a phrase from Mamie Dalkins, the Macleods didn’t know him from a bar of soap. Plus, it was the wee hours of the morning. They’d probably think he was a lunatic and hang up. But Josh knew what it was like to be a big brother, and what he’d do if anyone ever threatened one of his sisters. Hell, he knew what he was prepared to do right now for the woman he loved. Shapeshifters or not, he had a feeling that the Macleod brothers would react along the same lines. Kenzie would likely kill him for involving them of course, if she ever spoke to him again. He figured he’d manage to live with that if she was safe and sound.
He punched the number.
Kenzie figured she must still be experiencing the effects of the drugs in the dart. How else could she have slept so soundly, and on a hard floor to boot? There was a rubber mat in each cage for sleeping, which provided some insulation from the cold floor. Nikki’s doing, Roy had said. But the mat wasn’t much more comfortable than the cement. She rose and stretched, wincing at her bruised thigh and wanting nothing more than to punch Nate in the face. Repeatedly.
To her surprise, three of her fellow prisoners were on two legs; Roy, Dempsey, and Shaggy Sam. Sam, as it turned out, was rather shaggy in human form as well. He sported waist-length hair in a long thick braid that hung down his back, and eyebrows that could rival Stanton’s. “Morning, guys,” she said. “You’re looking unusually good today.”
Roy grinned sheepishly. “Thought about what you said and figured it was worth a try. Who knows, maybe they’ll finally give us some coffee.”
The veterinarian came in at that moment, and paused to take in the changes in her charges. For a moment, Kenzie thought she might turn and run, but Nikki appeared to square her shoulders and approached the cages—slowly. She walked along each one, saying nothing, until she came to Kenzie’s cage.
“You didn’t really believe it, did you?” Kenzie asked softly.
Nikki shook her head.
“Can you tell me if the wolf cub is okay? She’s just a little girl and I’m worried about her.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “F-fine. She’s okay. We’ve got her upstairs where it’s warmer.”
; “Thanks for that. Can you help us get out? We’d all like to go home.”
A crash at the door interrupted them and five men came in wheeling a low stainless steel cart. Two of the men had dart guns at the ready, but Kenzie could see that all of them had sidearms—and the holsters were open. The leader strode over to Nikki without hesitation and stood looking at the Changelings with one hand on his holster.
“What the hell is this?” the man demanded.
“They’re werewolves, Gessler, what did you expect?” said Nikki, as if finding human beings in the cages hadn’t thrown her for a loop too. “They have a human shape.”
“Well, whatever shape they are, the clipboard says Number Six is due at the lab.” With one smooth movement, he moved forward, drew his dart gun and fired through the mesh. Dempsey’s lupine instincts were fast enough to try to dive out of the way but the fluorescent dart caught him in the shoulder.
“No!” shouted Nikki. “We don’t know how it will affect them in this form.”
Kenzie was horrified at how quickly the drug took effect. Within a few seconds, Dempsey’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped bonelessly to the cement floor. Despite Nikki’s protests, Gessler nodded to his men. They wasted no time opening the cage door and loading Dempsey onto the cart like a sack of potatoes. Nikki knelt and checked his pulse, used the stethoscope that was around her neck and pushed back his eyelids to check his pupils. “I don’t like the way he’s breathing. You idiot, you could have killed him.”
“My job is to dart subjects and transport them back and forth to the lab. I was just doing my job.” He motioned at his men to wheel Dempsey away. “You don’t want them darted, maybe we’ll go back to tying them up. Remember how much fun that used to be? After all, we only had to shoot three of them to keep them from killing the staff. Besides”—he pointed at Kenzie—“it’s that one’s fault. Dr. Richardson warned us she was a troublemaker and to keep an eye on her.”