Branded by Fire (33 page)

Right then, she didn’t care. Because this was her mate. How could she not touch him when he was in front of her? How could she not give him what she knew he needed, the simple skin-to-skin contact they both craved?

“Mercy.”
The snarl in his voice said the wolf was very much in control.

She went to speak, then decided to hell with it. Framing his face in her hands, she took his mouth in a slow, possessive kiss that made her toes curl. He kissed her back, but his arms remained planted on either side of her body. Still mad. That was okay, she thought, nibbling at his lower lip. Coaxing Riley sounded like a fun night to her. Especially if it involved getting that towel off his body.

His eyes were wolf-amber when she drew back, his cheekbones drawn sharply against his skin. “Come by for an ‘okay’ time in the sack?”

Not mad. Seriously angry. “Maybe I came to apologize,” she said, linking her arms around his neck. “And maybe you’ll hear it if you stop snarling at me.”

“What, you’re going to tell me I’m a better than okay lay?”

Oh, man, but he was pissed. In his defense, she thought, men had a way of becoming that way if you insulted their sexual prowess. And coming from the woman meant to be his mate . . . damn, how was she going to fix this? “Of all the things I’ve said to you, that’s the one you decided to take to heart?”

An unwavering amber stare.

“Damn it, Riley, you know you make me crazy in bed,” she said, consigning any attempt at subtlety to Hades.

“Do I?”

“I’m ready for you right now and you know it. My panties are so damp it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh?” And then he was unsnapping her jeans and one big hand was sliding into said panties, parting her liquid-soft flesh with a single smooth move.

She yelped.
“Riley.”

“Just checking the evidence.” His face was implacable, but his skin, his skin burned so hot, she could feel the heat brush against her in lapping waves. “Maybe I want to see it, too.”

Her eyes were all but rolling into the back of her head from the exquisite pleasure of his stroking fingers. He knew just how to caress her . . . including how very much it frustrated her to have her clitoris circled but never touched. “Kincaid, you have a mean streak.”

“Only around you.” He slipped a single finger inside her, teasing her body into moving on him. “You make me act like a damn juvenile.”

“Good.” Curling her fingers in the damp hair at his nape, she leaned in for another long, wickedly sensual kiss. “Now, stop teasing.”

He withdrew his hand.

She moaned. “I didn’t mean that! Come back.”

“You ready for a full-time man?” Hard words. “Because I don’t do part-time.”

“Neither do I.” Her words had been said in anger, thoughtless, unmeant.

“I haven’t heard an apology yet.”

“Oh, God, Riley.” She ran her hands over his chest. “You’re an incredible lover. Now, can I play with your beautiful cock?”

He blinked and the wolf retreated to show the man. “Christ, Mercy.”

But she was already pushing that damn towel to the floor to expose him. Her breath came out in a shuddering sigh as she closed her hand around the rigid length of him. “Oh, I have plans for this gorgeous thing.”

Riley jerked in her hand, his next words a growl. “Give me your mouth.” The kiss was wild, untamed, real. They were both breathing in jagged gasps by the time it ended, and she was sliding her hand up and down his length in desperate need. It didn’t surprise her when her clothes ended up shredded on the floor and Riley lifted her up against the door.

“My boots,” she muttered.

“Hot,” Riley muttered, tugging away her hand so he could grip her hips and ease her onto him slow and easy.

Trembling, she held on to his shoulders and decided she’d died and gone to heaven. The man was simply magnificent—possessiveness, dominance, and all. He was also hers. If only she could figure a way out of the minefield between them.

 

 

Riley stroked his hand through the silky red hair spread across his chest. It was a kick to the gut to see Mercy here, in his domain. The wolf wanted to bite her again, not to hurt, never to hurt. Just to make sure she really was here.

Then she stirred, scratching her claws lightly over his skin in lazy affection. “I still have my boots on.”

He grinned. “A naked redhead with her boots on. Nirvana.”

“Smart-ass.” A kiss pressed over his heartbeat, a hand stroking across his chest, playing with his chest hairs in a way that was very feline. Petting him, he thought. She was petting him. He wasn’t a man anyone petted. But coming from his mate . . . he relaxed into it, content.

“Riley, about this afternoon.”

“We’re square, kitty cat.” More than square. Never in a million years had he thought that wild, untamable Mercy would come to him.

But she gave a frustrated sigh and sat up, pushing her hair off her face. When he couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful breasts, she growled in her throat and flipped the long strands back over them.

He looked up, scowling. “Now what?”

“Have you thought through the consequences of our mating, Riley? Have you?” She poked a finger into his chest. “One of us is going to have to break from our pack. One of us is going to have to cut out our heart.”
Her.
She was the one who’d have to break. She knew that beyond any shadow of a doubt . . . because Riley
was
just a fraction older, just a fraction more dominant. Not enough to change the dynamic of their relationship, but more than enough to rip her from DarkRiver.

“We’ll still be close physically—”

“That’s bullshit. You know it and I know it.” Fisting her hands, she thumped them on her thighs. “DarkRiver is as much a part of my soul as SnowDancer is yours. Sentinels don’t leave their packs, not unless they choose to follow a new alpha. Neither do lieutenants.”

“We have an alliance,” Riley said, feeling a chill creep up his back. “There’s no reason for either of us to break from our packs.”

“But we will! Soon as we mate, for one of us, the connection to our alpha, to our pack, the blood bond, will break. We’ll feel it right here.” Mercy slammed a fist into her heart. Because he understood her—damn it—he didn’t say it, but she knew he was as aware as she was that it would be her.

“You’re not going to give up your mate to stay in your pack.” Ground out through clenched teeth.

She couldn’t argue with him. “No.” Having a mate was a gift, a brilliance of being. “But it’ll destroy a part of me. I won’t be the same woman. I’ll be less.” That was what had so terrified her this afternoon, the recognition that to be with this man, with her mate, she’d have to give up not only her pack . . . but part of herself. “I don’t know if my leopard can accept that.”

Riley swore, then reached out to close a hand over hers. The leopard snarled, making her jerk back in reflex. His mouth tightened. “You’re not just a leopard, Mercy, you’re human, too. You won’t be less—you’ll adapt.”

“I might be human,” she said, aching to touch him, yet angry with him at the same time, “but I’m also a pack animal. I’m not a loner, Riley. I never have been. I can’t be whole without my pack.” She sucked in a breath. “If it had been another leopard pack, it would’ve hurt like hell but I think my cat would’ve learned to adapt. But to come into a pack of wolves—”

“If that happens, if yours is the bond that breaks,” Riley said, sitting up to face her, “SnowDancer will treat you as its own, you know that. You
know
.”

“The woman understands,” she said softly, breaking his heart with her sorrow, “but the leopard doesn’t. All it knows is that if I take my wolf, I might lose everything else that ever mattered.”

CHAPTER 44

The next morning, by mutual agreement, Mercy and Riley drove to meet Nash down the road from Nate and Tamsyn’s house. The entire Baker family was staying there while their home was being fitted up with all sorts of high-tech security.

The drive was quiet. Neither of them mentioned the painful truth they’d talked about in the den, but the fact that they hadn’t been apart since the night before . . . well, it spoke for itself.

“Thanks for meeting me out here,” Nash said, taking a seat at a picnic table in the backyard of Zach and Annie’s house—the couple had already left for the day, but Zach had called Mercy with the location of the hidden key. Using that key, she’d put on the coffee while Riley escorted Nash over. She’d figured the boy would do better with a male.

Now she put three empty mugs on the table as Riley headed in to bring out the insulated pitcher. “You didn’t want to worry your parents, right?”

A nod from the young man across from her. Brown eyed, with hair a few shades lighter, he was good-looking in a gentle kind of way. But there was an underlying toughness to him, the lynx within.

“Coffee.” Riley poured and grabbed a seat. “I’m going to cut to the chase, Nash. It’s been a week and we’re still not clear on why the Alliance targeted you rather than any number of more experienced researchers. MIT’s playing the commercial sensitivity card and you haven’t exactly been cooperative, either.”

“Secrecy’s vital to our funding.” Nash met Mercy’s eyes. “We all had to sign complex nondisclosure agreements.”

Given the alacrity with which the lynx had agreed to this meet, Mercy had a feeling he simply hadn’t wanted to say anything in a medium that could be recorded or traced back to him. “Okay, I get that,” Mercy said. “But we need to calculate the odds of another attempt—whether by humans, changelings, or Psy. It’ll affect not only the security arrangements we make for you, but your family’s as well.”

Nash didn’t even take a moment to think about it. “Odds are very high. Any of the three, but changelings probably not so much.”

“Damn, that’s what I was afraid of.” Mercy chewed on her lower lip. “This company that’s sponsoring you, will they pay for bodyguards?”

“I think so.”

Riley nodded, as if following Mercy’s line of thought. “We’ll provide the bodyguards.”

“You would anyway,” Nash said. Then smiled. “But the sponsor doesn’t have to know that. The pack might as well get paid for protecting my ass.”

Mercy grinned. He was okay, was Nash. “They’re also the most likely source of the leak.”

“Yeah. I had a call from the managing director to say they’re going through all personnel who might have links to the Human Alliance.”

“Good.” Riley tapped a finger against his coffee mug. “This company—your gut reaction?”

Nash’s face turned serious. “They’re out to make money, but they’re willing to put in the hard time funding research that might never go anywhere. I figure that’s fair.”

Mercy agreed. “Their ethics?”

“They’ve agreed that if I’m successful, they’ll allow medical use at cost or less if possible. Everyone else will pay a premium.” Nash met Mercy’s eyes. “The owner’s daughter has a condition that might be helped by my work. Believe me, he won’t withhold it from other kids. He’s one of the good guys.”

That convinced Mercy as nothing else could’ve done. Heart, love, it had a way of fighting off darkness. “I have to admit I’m curious as anything about what you’re doing, but I understand commercial sensitivity. We can work with what we’ve got.”

Nash thrust a hand through his hair. “When I started, I didn’t realize all the implications. I was thinking of purely medical use, but, well . . . everyone wants to be stronger.”

Mercy went motionless at the oblique hint. “No wonder the Alliance wants you.” She despised their tactics, but could see what drove them. Humans were the weakest of the three races—Psy were weaker physically, but had psychic abilities to compensate. If humans could at least level the playing field so they had changeling strength . . . yeah, she could see the temptation.

“It’s a very long-term project,” Nash told her. “I think the Alliance thinks we have functioning prototypes. We’re nowhere near close.”

“But you’re on the right track,” Riley said. “Enough to make you a serious target.”

Another shy grin. “Good thing I have leopards and wolves on my side, then.”

 

 

In a van parked on a street packed with tourists out to sample the area’s world-famous crabs, several screens came to life. “We have eyes on Nikita Duncan,” said the operator.

His partner watched the Councilor enter the office building and—frustratingly—take the stairs to the mezzanine floor, where she apparently had a meeting, judging from the focus with which she walked toward the first door on the left. “Damn.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll move.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this—we were meant to act when we
knew
what her exact movements would be.”

“We’re still on schedule.”

“But we lost hours trying to keep ahead of the wolves and cats. Our reconnaissance wasn’t anywhere near as good as it should’ve been.” A pause. “Maybe we shouldn’t have killed the information broker.”

“It’s done now.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, the chairman seems to have some kind of a top source of his own—he’s been giving us good tips.”

“Hmm.” A pause. “What a waste.”

“Huh?”

The man shrugged and brought up a screenshot of Nikita Duncan’s form. “Look at that face, those cheekbones, those legs.” The Councilor had an exotic mix of Irish, Japanese, and Russian blood and had inherited the best from all sides. Tall and lithe, she had the almond eyes of a goddess, and the kind of silky hair men liked to see on their pillow. “Too bad she’s a heartless bitch.”

“She’ll be a dead bitch soon enough.”

 

 

Mercy was meant to be doing a shift on the continuing security patrols in the city, but after she and Riley went their separate ways, she asked Clay to cover for her so she could drive to Tammy’s. She’d deliberately picked the one sentinel who wouldn’t ask questions, but to her surprise, he gave her a narrow-eyed glance and stroked the back of one hand over her cheek. “You okay?”