Craving Her (Keeping Her Series Book 4) (16 page)

“Yeah, you would have,”
Logan shot back grimly.  “If not tonight, then when they retaliated against us,
and the real war started.”

Lucas thought about that
as he leaned back in his chair and waited to get back to Lionsgate.  He would
like to think he would not have been so foolish as to start a war with
all
the prides, but Cleo was in harm’s way.  He could not definitively say he would
not decimate the lot of them to get his daughter back.  But he
hoped
he
wouldn’t.

One good thing did come
of this night. Gerent’s pride was finished.  No way was anyone going to have
dealings with a pride dumb enough to take on Lionsgate.  And as a bonus, he
pretty much assured that no one would think to come after his kids again.  They
had looked death in the eye tonight and he had proved beyond a shadow of a
doubt how crazy he and his men were by facing all the lion prides at once with
just a handful of men. 
Who wanted to breed in crazy?
  More likely, they
would point at this night as proof positive he had lost his mind, and leave him
and his the fuck alone.  Not a bad night’s work actually.  Now if he could find
his daughter unharmed, and rip all of Gerent’s limbs from his body, he would
call it a success.  Any other end to this scenario he refused to contemplate,
but he had not lied.  If Cleo was hurt,
anyone
who had
anything
to
do with it would feel the burn.  He would light the fucking bonfire under their
ass himself.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

Returning to the house
they all hit the vault together, searching William both electronically and physically
before they shoved him into a chair and left him with Mac, Ben, and Demon in
the living room just staring at him.

The boy looked around the
rustic simplicity of Lionsgate with big eyes and Lucas saw nothing of his own
kids in the almost naive gaze.  There was a bruised innocence in those eyes
that made him uncomfortably aware that he was younger than he looked.  He
understood better why Cleo had been so insulted by Gerent’s choice of jailer
for her.  Cleo could eat this kid for breakfast despite his height and lion
brawn.  It was disconcerting but not exactly important to think on right now.
Lucas left him for now, his thoughts moving to his wounded man and his mate. 
He was suddenly very anxious to get to Miley.

He joined Logan at the
vault entrance off the kitchen.  “Where’s Ian?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at
seeing Logan waiting for him.

“He went to suit up.”

The words had more
meaning than Lucas was comfortable with and he narrowed his eyes at his oldest
friend.  “He was already suited up as much as he needed to be to wait in the
vault.”

Logan shook his head at
his commander and followed him through the opening that appeared when the code
was entered.  “You know how he feels about this.”

“He beat that horse dead
already; I allowed him to go to possible war with lions.  That was enough.  He
stays here.”  Even though they all knew the prissy lions were never going to
attack armed men in their fancy suits.  More like attempt assassination and
back stabbing at a later date.

Logan was quiet too long
and Lucas simmered all the way down the stairs.  “Just say it straight, you
taciturn son of a bitch.”

“What would you do in Ian’s
place?”  Logan’s voice was mild compared to Lucas’ but that did not make the
words less irritating.

Lucas ground his teeth as
the shot hit home.  No way would he sit by while family was in danger.  “Fuck!”

“He can handle himself.”

“He’s seventeen, two
years older than that scared kid fidgeting on my couch.  The one,” Lucas added
grimly, “I may have to kill if this turns out to be a trap.”

Logan snorted.  “We both
know that kid is not part of some elaborate trap.  Everything he is feeling is
right there in his face, unlike Ian who hides everything behind teenage snark. 
You are comparing apples and oranges.  Ian has been training for this since
birth, and like his father, and his sister I might add, he can handle whatever
gets thrown at him.”

“I don’t want him there.”

“Knowing what you would
do in his place, can you stop him?”

“Fuck!”  Lucas’ words
were heartfelt when he pushed his way through the command room door of the
vault.  Like every Lionsgate house, there was a safe house built into the
foundation.  It could survive a nuclear war, let alone a normal armed assault. 
When they had left, Miley, Cassandra, Clytie, Roxanne, and Shawn had all been
placed in the vault and locked down.

Eli had headed down first
and was looking at the room video feeds on the computer.  He turned to Lucas with
a grim look on his face.  “Boss, I think you better get to the infirmary.”

Lucas looked at the
computer screen spanning the wall in front of them and saw Shawn in the
infirmary with Miley sitting beside him on the bed.  Her hands were glowing,
and even as he watched, she seemed to be slumping to the side while Clytie held
on to her.  He could tell she was trying to get Miley to stop, but as usual,
Miley wasn’t listening.  “Fuck!”  He turned at a run for the infirmary and his
mate, who was going to get her ass spanked by him personally for disobeying a
direct order.  That was if she survived the healing.

With a roar, Lucas rammed
the infirmary door just in time to see both Clytie and Cassandra pulling Miley
to the floor away from the injured man on the bed, but it was almost too late. 
She was unconscious.  The tortured roar that fell from his nearly completely
lion throat could be heard through the vault and beyond.  On the bed, Shawn
stirred but Lucas was too busy pulling his mate into his arms to feel for her
pulse to pay him heed.

“Damn you, Miley, I told
you not to do this,” he snarled, even as he collapsed to the floor and pulled
her into his arms.  He ran his hand to her neck and felt the life that still
flowed there, and then he finally breathed.

Miley snuggled feebly
closer.  She had the gall to yawn in the face of his terror.  “Had to, Viking. 
Shawn wasn’t waking up.”

At the sound of her tired
voice, something crushing his chest loosened and he was able to breathe again. 
He closed his eyes in sheer relief and then leaned over her, whispering
directly into her ear, “I’m going to pound your ass for this.”

She smiled at his
promise, her eyes still closed as she snuggled closer.  “Will you wear the kilt
this time?”  She practically purred the question, her voice all sleepy against
his neck.  He heard a couple of snorts and two very feminine giggles that were
quickly hushed up when he looked up and glared at the entire room.

But it was Shawn’s
roughened voice that hit the room like a blast horn and stopped the relieved
humor at his expense.  He said one word: “Cleo?” and everyone shut the fuck up.

***

Shawn woke up to the
usual sound of Lucas roaring.  But even as he floated and listened to the
voices without really hearing them, there was something on his mind.  Something
he had to remember. 
Cleo?

“Cleo?” he asked out loud,
finally forcing his heavy eyes open as his body fought to slide back into its
healing sleep.  But why was he so tired?  What was he forgetting? And where was
Cleo?  The need to see her was almost a feral drive.  His raptor seemed hidden
from him behind sheets of cotton in his head, but he could feel the agitation
coming through mutely.  Something was very wrong.

“Can you hear me, Shawn?” 
Lucas’ voice had him trying again to open his eyes.

“Where’s Cleo?”

“Taken” was the grim
answer, and it all came flooding back.  Being shot, Cleo with her hands covered
in his blood being darted, and taken while he was left for dead. He jackknifed
out of the bed, his talons sprouting from clawing hands.  If he still had the
chest wound, the move alone probably would have killed him.  As it was,
everyone jumped back to a safe distance pulling the women behind them.

Shawn looked at the faces
of his pack mates, and directly into Lucas’ grim eyes.  “Where?”  The word was
practically a hiss as he fought his change.  His hawk was back and the driving
need to get to his mate was no longer muted and distant, but right fucking
there.  It felt like claws were screeching across the surface of his brain, but
he ignored it.  He had one thought and one thought only – getting his mate back
and killing the men who took her.  “How long?”

“Two days.  We leave as
soon as the plane is refueled.”

Shawn narrowed raptor
gold eyes.  “You found her?”

Lucas looked even
grimmer, but he firmed his jaw and spoke like he didn’t like the words any
better than Shawn did.  “We have a lead.  We proceed with caution but it’s from
more than one source.”

Shawn pushed the covers
off him, and with no regard to the women in the room, he stood up fully naked
and with gold fire in his eyes.  “I’ll be ready when the plane is.”

“You should be dead,”
Lucas muttered.  “You need, a shower, food, and rest, not a fucking mission.”

“I’m taking a shower.” 
Shawn said his words smooth and cutting like ice, leaving no room for
negotiations.  “I’ll eat and rest on the fucking plane.”  Then he prowled naked
from the room, leaving a hush behind him.

“Wasn’t he shot in the
chest yesterday?” Cassandra asked unnecessarily, her bright eyes still on the
bathroom door Shawn had prowled through, naked.

“He was,” Logan answered,
though they all knew the answer.

“That’s some kickass
power Miley has.”

“Which we do not discuss,”
Lucas snarled, standing up and turning his exhausted mate in his arms.

Cassandra blinked her big
hazel eyes up at the snarling lion and his mate.  “Absolutely,” she quickly
agreed, backing up into Clytie as she got out of the doorway, “not going to say
a word.”

Lucas growled and stomped
past, careful not to bump Miley on the way out.  Cassandra watched him walk
away, until Clytie nudged her back from the doorway she was leaning around.

“Stop staring at his ass,”
she said exasperated.

“I was not!”  Cassandra
sounded deeply offended.  At her cousin’s doubtful look, she shrugged, “It was
just romantic, the way he carried her off that way.”

Clytie studied her cousin
with narrowed eyes.  She could agree it had been a romance-worthy mood, but the
way Cassie was carefully looking anywhere else with that bloom on her cheeks
had Clytie pressing her lips in suspicion.  “You were picturing him in a kilt weren’t
you?”

Cassie looked from her to
Logan and cleared her throat.  “Is that . . . pertinent?”

Clytie snorted and walked
out of the room with a roll of her eyes.

“Don’t judge me,” her
cousin yelled after her with a laugh, then followed.

Looking around the now
empty room, Logan shook his head at the ladies’ antics.  One thing you could
say about Lionsgate now that some of them had mates – it was never dull.

He lost his smile when
Shawn came back into the room, freshly showered and with implacable steel in
his raptor eyes.  He saw that Logan was the only one still there and he raised
his chin.  “Tell me everything.”

Logan nodded once.  “I’ll
talk while you suit up.”

With that, Shawn headed
for the room in the vault that held their extra gear, dropping the superfluous
towel as he went.  Logan followed behind and talked.

***

True to his word, Shawn
slept during the flight, after consuming as many calories as he could shove
down his throat.  With the healing, he was pain-free but exhausted.  The scar
on his chest so close to his heart would forever be a reminder of what he could
have lost, and he wasn’t talking about his life.  In his line of work, there
was a certain risk you accepted.  What killed him in this situation is the
danger he left Cleo in.  He only hoped he had the chance to learn from his
mistakes.  For now, he let sleep take him, knowing he would be no good to
anyone if he didn’t get some of his energy back before they landed.

It should have been easy;
the seats were wide in supple leather that reclined.  Or he could have headed
for the back of the plane and the private sleeping area that actually had a
bed.  But he needed to be in the middle of the action, even if he was
unconscious.

He closed his eyes with
every intention of sleeping, but all he saw when he did was Cleo’s devastated
face while she tried to hold his heart blood in his chest.  His eyes snapped
open raptor gold, and in the darkness of the jet shown like two back-lit orbs.

The first thing he saw
was the young Gerent lion trying to make himself as small as possible in his
own seat.  He narrowed glowing eyes on the boy who lost what color he had left
in the beam of that stare.

“You were the boy who
tried to hold Cleo when Gerent went after her the first time?”

The young lion swallowed,
his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing from across the wide aisle.  But he nodded
just the same, then waited for the blow he seemed sure was coming.

“Gerent told Cleo he
punished you for her escape.”  It was not formed as a question, but there was
one just the same.  Shawn watched the boy swallow again, and then with a look
in his eyes as if he was remembering something terrible, he shuddered, his wide
boy shoulders hunching over.

“Yeah,” the boy looked
away and only then seemed to realize he had the attention of the entire silent
plane, “Uncle Arnaud likes his punishments.”  His voice turned bitter and he
looked down at the floor of the plane, but not before Shawn saw a jagged spark
cross his expressive eyes.  When no one said anything else, just stared at him,
waiting, the boy looked up with bright eyes and firmed his chin.  “What he
doesn’t like is a nephew who does not have
manly
pursuits.”  He actually
air quoted the ‘manly’ turning a touch angry.  Shawn was surprised; he did not
think the cub had it in him.  But William was going on, clearly feeling teenage
fire for the subject.  “When Cleo kicked my ass, he figured it was not because
she is a crazy badass superhero, but because I was too weak to hold a
simple
female
.”  More air quotes, more angst. It almost made Shawn smile when the
kid described Cleo as a superhero.  He guessed if he was a teenage boy he would
see her that way, too.  “To punish me and make me a
man
,” here the boy’s
voice cracked and some of his bravado faltered as he very carefully looked away
from everyone, “he gave me to the Unger pride . . .”, the boy swallowed and
looked haunted, but he finished, quivering chin and all, “for my first
breeding.”