by A. C. Arthur
He was assembling his squad. Each Faction Leader had a core squad they worked with to enforce the laws of Ètica in their zones. If the Rogues were stepping up their game in Rome’s territory, he and his squad would be ready to do whatever was necessary to neutralize them.
Nick nodded. “Eli stays with you tonight. I’ll send Ezra back to Ms. Harper.”
“They weren’t after me,” Rome said.
X stood. “They are now. You’re the Faction Leader, they know that. And you took something they wanted. They’ll be after you just for the fun of it.”
Rome went back to the window, looked out into the night. “Hunting me won’t be fun for them. I can promise that.”
* * *
Vicious claws sank into flesh with a sickening sound that mixed with the howl of a wounded cat. Rage spewed through each strike, filling the room with the acidic stench of blood and evil simultaneously.
They were in an old warehouse off Interstate 95 just outside DC in the northern Virginia area. The building had been abandoned long before they arrived but they’d taken over earlier this year. Slowly but surely, as money poured in, they were making it a more livable space. Soon it would be the headquarters of their empire. Just as soon they would rule, as their kind was meant to do.
This was Sabar’s goal. He’d been born in the jungle, treated like an animal for the first years of his life, until he’d been taught differently. His eyes had been opened, his mind awakened to what was theirs for the taking. Now twenty years later he was here, in the United States, doing what was necessary for his species to survive. To rule.
His cat clawed at the surface, wanting to dominate the situation, to handle the reprobates itself. But that would end in death, and while he was no stranger to the act of killing, in this instance Sabar wasn’t quite ready for these shifters to meet that end.
Still, they had to be punished. If there was one thing Sabar could not stomach, it was failure. These three should know this by now—they’d been with him long enough. Well, two of them had. The other one had only been with his group a few years, but he’d come highly recommended. Now Sabar wondered if that was a mistake.
“Get up!” he yelled, following the order with a kick to the shifter’s stomach with the tip of his steel-toed boot. “Get your sniveling sissy ass up!”
He was a sissy because he wasn’t a jaguar. In the forest the tribes were separated according to the feline family each cat was born into. That was the way of the Elders and the Assembly. Sabar had long since cursed their doctrine and their ways. So he’d accepted any and all members from any and all tribes. It didn’t matter which tribe they were from, or even if their tribe didn’t live in the Gungi; they were all shifters, all powerful in ways humans could never fathom being. But this one, this sniveling cheetah who’d been brought to him by one of the female shifters one night, could very well have been the weakest link tonight. The one that caused them to lose a key component to Sabar’s success as a ruler.
“Tell me again why she’s not here right now?”
He could hear the other two behind him, smell the relief that he’d backed off them for the time being.
“Sh … she got away,” Chavez, the freckle-faced man, answered. With blood gushing from the wound at his neck where Sabar had first swiped at him, it was a bit hard to see the freckles that marred his face and neck. But Sabar didn’t give a rat’s ass about how he looked when this was over. He wanted answers.
“He came in and took her. We were going to get her but he took her,” Chavez managed without stuttering this time.
“Who took her, Darel? And why didn’t you stop them?”
From behind him Darel struggled to stand, then pushed out his chest, put his shoulders back, and spoke clearly. “Faction Leader Reynolds took her, sir. They disappeared in the crowd and probably left through some secret exit. We decided to go to her house hoping Reynolds would drop her off and we could get her when he left. But he didn’t. When we approached he wasn’t alone. They’d already shifted and were waiting for us. We were fighting them off when the cops arrived.”
Sabar growled, blood dripping from his fingers where his claws tore the skin. “Where are Reynolds and his flunkies now? More important, where’s the female?”
Sharpened teeth pricked at his lips. That’s all he could allow of the change right now. Taking cat form at this moment would only cause the others to shift as well, and that would definitely lead to bloodshed and death. Beasts did not rationalize who they fought and why, they just fought to survive. In this Sabar reluctantly embraced the human half of himself, worked with the intelligence bred into human brains and adjusted accordingly.
“We all left before the cops could get to the alley to see us,” Chi offered. He, too, was now standing at attention as Darel did.
Chavez was just pushing himself up, using the wall for leverage. “They ran first,” he stated, as if that made a difference.
“You should have run after them. Your kind’s supposed to be faster, right?” To his own ears Sabar sounded prejudiced—against his own kind, at that. The thought didn’t sit right in his mind, the human part. But the animal in him prowled close, ready to snap the other cat’s neck at a moment’s notice. He didn’t trust this one, had thought about killing him just days ago. But as an old saying went, it was best to keep your enemies close.
“I don’t care what you have to do, who you have to kill to get it done, but I want her and I want her now!” His words ended with a deafening roar that rattled the windows of the warehouse and shook each man/beast standing near him.
None of them spoke another word, but the trio filed out, walking along the cement floors to the back door they used to keep anyone riding on the highway from seeing them.
* * *
Rome ran as if his life depended on it. Through the forest that bordered a dense mountainous region in Virginia he ran and ran until his flanks were damp with sweat. Only then did he stop, realizing he was in a favored spot. Pacing around the two large trees, he padded along the softened foliage-covered ground. Lips drew back over large sharp teeth, and he panted air in and out. Through the slits of his gold-green eyes he saw the dark of the forest, loved the feel of the night air against his furred body. Leaping up he balanced on his hind legs, gripping the tree trunk with the paws of his front ones. With quick ragged strokes the cat scored the tree just as he had in the past.
This was his land—the human had purchased it and held the deed. But animal had marked it, claimed this territory so that any who dared walk on it knew. This tree in particular wore the claw marks of the cat that ran through this forest on a daily basis. Tonight’s run was fueled by so much—anger, anticipation, hunger, lust. All these things ran through the human, pushing at Rome until he wasn’t quite sure what needed to be done first. They clawed at the animal viciously, making him impatient and irritable.
Even in this form he couldn’t outrun his demons. The dark parts of his past continued to haunt him years later. He was thirty-five and he was a successful attorney. He should be thinking of finding a wife, settling down to start a family—that’s what his mother would have wanted him to do. His father, too, for that matter, was a man about family and heritage. Both his parents instilled a great love of their heritage in Rome so that now his loyalty to the shifters and their home in South America was as big a part of his life as his career. And with that came one of Rome’s biggest burdens: finding out who murdered his parents.
The night of their murder was still fresh in his mind even though he’d been so young. He’d stayed in that closet because Baxter told him to and he’d been taught to listen to his elders. But he’d known something was wrong. Deep in his chest he’d felt a rising heat, then he heard the screams, his mother’s screams. He’d stood then put his small palm on the knob of the door, ready to turn it.
“Sit tight, Mr. Roman. Do not move until I come back for you,” Baxter had said.
Rome had already disobeyed because he’d moved from the sittin
g position. What harm would it do if he left the closet? His mother needed him. But he didn’t leave and with each sob he inhaled the tangy scent of blood. It consumed him until he sat in the closet close to vomiting. Then it was quiet for what seemed like forever, and Baxter did not come. He had to go to the bathroom and his stomach growled from hunger. But he stayed where he was told. And his parents had died at the hands of another shifter.
Opening his mouth the cat growled in pain, for the loss, for the memory, for the time he could not shift and protect those he loved.
But now he could. Rome was as powerful as a cat as he was in the human world. When he found his parents’ killer he would most certainly make him pay.
And now there was another for him to protect. Kalina.
He hadn’t known who she was two years ago, and even now he didn’t know her all that well—or at least his human self didn’t. Yet his cat felt a connection, yearned to break free each time he was with her. Of course he fought it, even wondered why the animal wanted to be free with her. He’d never felt that urge with another woman before. The attraction was strong, so much so that just thinking of her made Rome hard and the cat hunger for more.
When he’d touched her tonight, felt the clench of her inner muscles around his fingers, the man wanted to roar with pleasure. In her eyes he saw a banked fire, hidden for whatever reason. Beneath his touch she melted, her response as eager as if she’d known what to expect. But she wouldn’t have, just as he hadn’t known. Until he touched her. And now he wanted more.
Wanted her with a fierceness he’d never experienced before, which made this yet another issue for him to try and resolve. That was his job as Faction Leader—to resolve the issues of the stateside shifters. As an attorney he resolved the issues of his clients. Now the man had an issue. A woman who both perplexed and aroused him, and who also needed his protection.
Running again Rome remained still while the cat took what it needed, fed from the elements in the only possible way.
Moonlight could now easily be seen; that meant he was nearing the edge of his forest. Rome always made sure to unleash his cat only in the deepest depth of the forest so no human passerby could sneak a peek. Even though this was his own private land and the perimeter was gated, he left nothing to chance.
Just as the last line of trees displayed themselves the cat slowed, falling to its side still breathing quickly, sensitive nostrils flaring and lifting scents from the air. As the heart rate slowed, the beast calmed, opening itself to the man. In seconds the sinewy skeleton of the cat transformed into the male—six foot two and a half inches tall, 235 pounds of male muscle. Walking to the spot where he’d dropped his robe, Rome picked up the black silk, slipping it on as he walked through the last blanket of trees out into the night air. The grass was cool and just a little damp from the humidity as he walked barefoot back to the house.
Golden light spilled from the open patio door. When he stepped inside it was to a marble stand with a silver tray on top. And a glass of scotch. Baxter knew him too well.
Picking up the glass, Rome lifted the remote that would close the door behind him and initiate the alarm system.
“Get some rest, tomorrow will be a busy day,” Baxter said in his slow precise tone from the shadow of the doorway that led to the game room.
“Has the meeting been arranged?” he asked. He took his first swallow of the drink, let the burn soothe the ache deep inside his gut.
“Yes. Mr. Dominick took care of everything. Mr. Eli will stay in the house with us tonight.”
“And Ezra?”
“He is with Ms. Harper. But you may consider bringing her here. It will not rest until it knows she is safe,” Baxter whispered before disappearing in the darkness.
He’d thought of that already. Knew his cat was hungry to see her again, to scent her, touch her. The protective edge was growing, pushing at all his restraints in its effort to keep her safe. Inside the cat began to pace, growling every few seconds as Rome considered the options.
It wanted Kalina, there was no doubt about that. And right now Rome wasn’t up for questioning the other part of himself. He was who he was because of his jaguar; they were partners, working together to make a whole. The cat wanted Kalina. The man craved her.
They both would have her.
Chapter 9
Tonight hadn’t gone well for them, which usually meant it was going to go even worse for someone else.
Chavez was in a foul place, his beast ripping free as they walked down the dark street. It was close to dawn, the sky already shifting so that it looked like an angry storm of colors from deep indigo to rich fuchsia. They were still out prowling the streets after Sabar had finished with them.
What was still bothering them was not the missed opportunity to catch the woman Sabar had sent them for, but the heavy strain of unleashed lust that built up in a shifter, manifesting like a bitch of a hangover. Each of them felt it, maybe because their sexual exploits had been shared as of late. The animalistic desire mixing with the human sex drive rose to explosive levels among shifters. But in Rogues the feeling was absorbed, allowed to spread and anchor itself deep within until depraved sexual acts were a part of their natural state.
“You smell that?” Chi stretched out both his arms, stopping Chavez on one side and Darel on the other side of him.
The threesome inhaled simultaneously, then looked up at the building they were standing near.
There were females nearby, females in heat.
Without another word they entered the building, followed the alluring scent up a dark, dirty stairwell. There was a door at the end of the hall. Actually there were three doors on this floor, but only one beckoned to them. Like trained animals they followed the scent, each of them growing harder with every step. Arriving at the door where the scent rested, Darel lifted his hand to knock. Chavez pushed it away, lifted his foot with the size eleven boot, and kicked the door in.
Two females who had been sitting on the couch hitting a blunt jumped up. One who wore only underwear, her large breasts all but falling out of her bra and a barely there thong, stood first, raising her arms as if she were under arrest.
Darel’s mouth watered at the sight of those large mounds lifting with her motions.
The other one was too high to care. She rolled onto her stomach, peeking at them from the couch. Her ass was out, too; she didn’t bother to wear a thong at all. She wore a bra but her breasts weren’t visible because she was lying on them.
The three shifters stood there for only seconds letting the smell of weed and female desire fill their nostrils.
Then they pounced.
* * *
Through the open window came a stifling breeze. Kalina inhaled instinctively and the scent of rain permeated her senses, filled her with such longing she coughed in response. Rain and air and a fragrant scent filtered throughout the room, wrapping her body in a warm cocoon that she embraced wholeheartedly.
Kalina sighed, a lone tear traveling down her cheek. The breeze touched every pore of her naked body, and now she tingled all over. Standing, she walked to the window, pushing to the side the long sheer curtains now billowing in the breeze. When she looked out the window it wasn’t to the scene she was used to seeing. Gone were the city street, the parked cars, sidewalks, and other houses. It had all been replaced by darkness. A darkness that was eerie and yet comforting at the same time.
Glaring outside felt like standing in the middle of nothing. No cops, no drugs, no competition. If serenity could be bottled and that bottle dropped and broken, this would be it. She couldn’t see anything, but she could feel, and what she felt was like heaven.
“It’s yours, baby. You just have to be brave enough to take it.”
A deep voice sounded from behind, and the tingling against her skin instantly grew hotter.
He was there, again. Finally.
Her heart beat a little faster, her breasts rising and falling with her steady inhaling and exhaling. “I can�
��t,” she responded in the tiniest whisper.
Fingers that felt like feathers touched along her spine, moving downward until hands splayed across her bare bottom. She sucked in a breath as those same fingers slipped deftly into the seam, whispering softly over the tightened back entrance.
“You can.”
She was shaking her head because his touch, there, in such a forbidden place, rendered her momentarily speechless.
“Tell me what you want and you can have it.”
What she wanted, what she thought she wanted didn’t seem half as important as this moment, this feeling. It was beyond intimacy, more than she’d ever thought could be a part of her. She knew him, had known him for a long time, and yet tonight his touch felt new, exciting, enticing.
She wanted to do what he said, to tell him what she wanted, to take what she needed. The urge to take had never been so strong before. And yet there was something else. Not too far in the distance was something that she feared, a being, a place—what was it that held her back?
Again she didn’t speak.
But it didn’t stop him. One hand slipped over her hip to brush past her clean-shaven mound. Thick fingers parted plumped dewy folds, touching the tender and tightened clit. She moaned, her head falling back to rest along his shoulders.
“You want me to touch you here? To fuck you this way,” he continued in a voice that simply lulled her into a pleasurable abyss.
Kalina didn’t know the answers. There was his other hand, behind her, pressing one finger slowly against the tight back entrance. Another finger moved through her wetness, finding her center then pressing inside. Sensations rippled through her and she sighed, moaned, welcomed.
Against her bottom was also the heated pressure of his arousal. Thick and hot it felt against her, and her nipples tingled with awareness.
She wanted him, desperately.
“Yes, that’s what I want,” she heard herself whisper.
Sharp teeth nipped at her shoulder, traced a pleasure–pain path along the nape of her neck, and ended at the other shoulder.