Deceiving the Protector (12 page)

No, as she stared at him, she wondered what else could be a lie. How many of the bonds they’d tied her to Asher with were nothing more than fabrications to keep her in line? What if Laurel had died the day Lia had left her behind?

Or the question she never allowed herself the luxury of asking.

What if Laurel was already free?

Lia took a step forward.

“Lia, goddamn it, run.”

But running wouldn’t do any good. So she took another step. Then another one. Maybe it was a lie she was telling herself. That by siding with Tate, there was a way out for her. That there was freedom for her. Mate or not, she couldn’t truly escape Asher. But she did still have one choice left and she needed to make it.

So she walked until she stood before Death, holding his sickle in hands that grew stronger with determination. He stood patiently, arrogantly. Never seeing her as the threat she was.

Not until she shoved the ax up under the plates protecting his belly.

The scream was still echoing through the trees long after the shadow disappeared into the darkness. Lia lay on the ground where the bastard had flung her, the ax still in her grip. She’d hit hard, the shadow’s rage at her betrayal like a blast that slammed her to the ground even as it ran for its own life. Tate could hear her breathing, rough and broken with gasps. He dropped to his knees, the icy burn of the double wound in his belly ceding to a fiery agony now that the adrenaline was fading.

God, he was exhausted just from the strain of staying on his feet. From trying to reach out to her…He still wasn’t sure if it had worked or if he’d only imagined the connection between the two of them. Part of him felt stupid for even trying, but there hadn’t been anything else and he could see the glassy-eyed expression taking over her face like before. The way she’d looked at him, as if she could hear him across the expanse…it had been almost enough to make him believe in Jade’s crazy stories.

She wasn’t looking at him now, though. She’d curled into herself, shoulders shuddering as if she were crying uncontrollably without making a sound. He stared at her, both moved and shaken. It made no sense, none of it. She’d taken an incredible risk for him. But she’d also kept him from killing her nightmare and gotten him carved open like a fucking holiday turkey.

He sat back on his heels and peeled back his hand to try to see the wound. That motherfucker had stuck him with his own goddamn blade. The stupidity of it pounded in his head. Too angry, too impulsive, too fucking
stupid.
He’d left everything at the camp undefended, including his own weapons. Whoever this bastard was, all he’d had to do was wait for Tate to leave and take a few minutes to search through their belongings before following after. Pale would be chewing his ass off for a mistake like this, and he’d deserve it, but Pale wasn’t here. Because Tate was supposed to be smart enough to handle this on his own.

Instead he was kneeling in the dirt, naked and bloody with a four-inch hole in his gut.

So much for smart…

“Take this.” Lia’s hand shot out, her flannel shirt bunched in her fist. “Staunch the blood.”

He looked up at her, gritting his teeth at the black bruise around her eye and cheekbone. She looked like she’d been plowed by a redwood. Instead of grabbing the shirt, he took hold of her arm. Gently. A hold she could break without effort. “Lia.”

“You’re going to bleed to death before the wound closes, take it.” But she didn’t shake him off.

“Lia.”

Making exasperated noises, she knelt in front of him and shoved the fabric over his wound. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. She wasn’t gentle, this woman, but her hands were firm. He slipped his hand out from under her impromptu compress, covering both of hers.

“You’ve got to tell me, Lia. Stop fucking hiding and tell me why you didn’t let me kill him.”

She shook her bowed head. “We need to get you somewhere safe, before the healing sleep takes over.”

“
Now
, Lia.”

She kept her head down, but her shoulders finally slumped. She let go slowly, making sure he could hold the fabric in place before edging back. Rather than say anything, she stiffly began unraveling the scarf he’d started thinking of as part of her. One loop, then another. Carefully unwrapping her neck before she turned her head, staring away, her bruised face filled with shame.

He wanted to touch her cheek, wipe that misery away. But then he saw what she was revealing. A dark, ravaged bite right where her shoulder met her throat. An open wound, by the looks of it. The bite of a poisonous snake.

“Asher wasn’t lying. We’re bonded. If you’d killed him, you’d kill me. That would have consequences you don’t understand.”

So the shadow had a name. “Then you’ve known all along he wasn’t human.”

She nodded, face still averted. “He’s a shifter, a Wolf just like us.”

“Not like us.” Lia had a soul beneath that crusty exterior. So did he, even if it was a scarred one. “Whatever that bastard used to be, it’s gone.”

She seemed to think about that for a moment. “He’s not the first one that happened to in a facility. I knew kids who went into the training rooms and came back like empty shells. The things they do to you there, you can’t imagine…” She trailed off, a distant frown crowding her brows together as she seemed to go to a place in her mind he couldn’t follow. “I think he’s one of the ones they captured as a baby. At least early enough that they considered him trainable. He’s an experiment to them, an opportunity to test an army of stronger, faster, expendable soldiers. All he’s ever known is what they twisted him into. A chained monster who hunts and kills his own kind to please his masters.”

Not to mention himself.
Tate had covered enough cases interning at the D.A.’s office in Moonridge to recognize the kills Betha told him about for what they were. Vicious, joyous in their cruelty. “And how do you fit into this?”

She blinked, her face blank. “When I came along, they realized they could exploit the mating bond and use it to give him the specific focus of hunting down other males. Every three months, we rendezvous with a medical team for our injections and to make sure the bond is holding. My shots ensure I go into Heat for brief but frequent intervals. After that, I’m walking, talking bait.”

“You’re
not
bonded.” He knew that so deep down in his bones, it was impossible to question.

Her face jerked back his way, her expression a mask of frustrated disbelief. “How do you know?”

She had no respect for male instincts.

“I
know.
”

“That’s not good enough, Tate. You can’t just say something and make it true, believe me. I’ve tried.”

Ruthless enough to snarl, he instead reached for her shirt, dragging her up against him. Close enough to taste, if he wanted to—and God, he wanted to. Her eyes widened for a second, but instead of pushing him away, she stayed put, those plump lips parted, her eyes on his mouth. Waiting, breath held, for him to take from her. It happened every time they were this close. This electric charge of awareness crackling between them, but this time, he stretched for her, willing himself in her direction as he had before. With the Wolf.

Just like before, a connection clicked into place almost instantly. His request, her acceptance. Even with a conflagration of pain in his gut, he felt it. Not lust, exactly—lust, he could ignore—but more. Like a magnetic pull calling him north. She took him in the same as a breath, effortlessly, her energy flowing toward him until she became all his senses could register. The strength of her, her warmth. Her scent flooded him, drowning out the forest and everything in it. There was only her breath, her heartbeat,
her.

“Tell me you don’t feel this,” he whispered, his voice rough as gravel in his throat. If she turned him away this time, he wasn’t sure he could take it.

Lia’s hand spread over his heart, fingers splayed wide. He waited for the push, but it didn’t come. Instead her fingertips probed, soothed. As if she wanted to touch him, to learn the feel of him. He bucked lightly against her, pressing his forehead to hers as he fought the urge to seal their mouths together. It would be so easy, and she wouldn’t say no. He could feel her acceptance surrounding him. Calling to him. But he couldn’t take from her. Not ever.

“I…feel…
you.
” Damn if there wasn’t wonder in her voice.

“You
want
me,” he corrected, strangling on the words as he let go. Now wasn’t the time for this. They weren’t safe.

She sank back onto her butt, looking dazed.

He forced the words out of his mouth, unable to hold back the note of gruff satisfaction in them. “If you were bonded, you wouldn’t want anyone
but
him. And no one would want your Heat but him, either. Didn’t anyone explain that to you when you were growing up?”

She shook her head. “I’ve
never
wanted him.” The bitterness in her was unmistakable. “I never wanted any of them. I just never had any choices.”

His gaze settled on the angry bite to her neck. It still looked fresh. Tortured. “If that thing is anything to go by, you have.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That claim on your neck. You reject him at every turn, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

It was a hell of a time to laugh, and it hurt like a son of a bitch, but there was relief in it too. “I doubt you’ve even completed the mating, much less a bond. Remember what I told you? The female has to accept. She has to submit in some way. He tried to mark you, but until you accept it, that mark is never going to take.”

She tried to peer down at her own neck, giving up almost as soon as she started. He could tell she was trying to believe him, trying to listen, but the frown pulling down those lips he wanted to taste warned him she couldn’t grasp it. Whatever lies those scientists had told her must have been rooted enough in her own truths to blur her reason. The best kind of lies always did.

“Killing him won’t take you with him, Lia. I promise you that.”

A muscle in her jaw ticked, her eyes taking on a hard gleam. “You don’t understand, it’s not
my
death I’m worried about. It’s Laurel’s. And she’s not the only one. Anyone he comes into contact with is at risk. You don’t know him. He kills indiscriminately when he’s in a rage. Because I betrayed him, there won’t be anything I can do to stop him. Believe me,
no one
is safe.”

It was tempting to ask more questions, to demand what he wanted to know, but he’d get nothing from her that way. Demanding got him locked out. At least now he knew why—she’d been helpless too many times in her life. A slave without rights even over her own body. Listening, waiting, letting her choose to tell him was the only way with Lia. It might go against his grain to wait, but for her he could make an exception.

Besides, he was in no condition to make demands anyway.

He looked down again at his own wound. Seeping, yes, but the skin had finally closed. He could feel that awkward itch of cells knitting together, nearly twitching. He could move safely and they needed to. But he needed to ask one more question, even though he shouldn’t.

He bit back a curse as he forced himself to his feet. Muscles wrenched, pulling where they’d just started to seam together. She was right, the healing sleep would hit soon. He tied the wet flannel around his hips securely. Bad enough to be bare-assed in the dirt, he didn’t want to be limping that way next to her.

To his surprise, she fit herself under his arm, draping it over her shoulders and offering one of her own around his back. Together they began walking, slowly, toward camp. He should have been concentrating on getting back, but with every shuffled step, the question grew stronger in his mouth. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, but he wasn’t sure he believed it. She thought she was mated and she was so protective of this Laurel person to the point that this other female was being used against her. He had to ask, logically. If only because it might dictate how far he could push this Asher person. Finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Is Asher Laurel’s father?”

She almost dropped him. “What?”

“Laurel.” Tate’s grimace was likely from pain, but she didn’t think so. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “He mentioned her too. Is she your daughter with him?”

“My—
what?
”

“How many times are you going to make me ask?”

“As many times as it takes to make some sense.” He thought Laurel was her
daughter?
She meant to explain, but just then, they stepped into their campsite. Or what
used
to be their campsite.

“Son of a fucking bitch.” Tate’s frustration came through even though he only breathed the words through his lips.

Clothes strewn everywhere, some in pieces, packs torn and upended, pallets sliced open.

Asher.

Lia let go when Tate settled on a large rock. She couldn’t take her eyes off the disaster area. It would take forever to find a way to make all this portable again.

“We’re going to have to leave it,” Tate decreed, dispassionate.

“What?” She turned to him, disbelieving. “This is everything I have.”

“No, it’s everything you carry. Right now, it’s worthless. We’re losing time every minute we stay here. Do me a favor and see if he left me anything intact. Especially the sat phone and the first-aid kit. And keep your eyes peeled for three small leather books. We’re not leaving without them. We’ve got to get to the last safe house. It’s only another couple of miles.”

God. He still expected to save her.

“I can’t.”

“Look around? Hell, I’d do it myself, but I’m saving myself for the walk.”

“No, the safe house. I can’t go with you.”

His consternation made her chest ache. He wasn’t going to like this. “I’m not leaving you out here, if that’s what you think.”

It wasn’t what she thought, it was what she knew. “He tracks me, Tate. No matter where I go or what I do. He finds me. You can’t take me to another point on the Underground.”

The perfect stillness of him spoke volumes amid the silence. “You’re tagged.”

She tried to shrug, but her shoulder still hurt from falling so many times. “It’s as good a name for it as any, I guess. They injected something into me before they let me go. They’re always injecting things into me, actually, but I know this works. He has a terminal on his arm, he keeps it locked on my frequency. He can find me anywhere, anytime.”

She could see his jaw working, the stubble on his cheeks adding to the shadows across his face. “He’s used it to find you before, hasn’t he?”

She nodded, not wanting to face that steady stare. She started picking through the clearing for anything he could wear. “It was early days then, almost a year and a half ago. Right after they released us from their compound to start the active experiment. I thought the bond was just more of their bullshit. That if I ran fast enough, far enough, he’d never catch me. He let me go just long enough to think I was safe.”