Hunger's Mate (20 page)

But he held his free hand flat behind him, signaling his men to stand down, for the time being.

“You're not going to get away with this,” were his first words to the commander, for he knew this was the guy in charge of this little ambush. “Whatever it is you want or think you can find here is not going to work out to your advantage.”

The man threw his head back and laughed, a rifle tucked securely in his right hand. Not only did Jacques know the gun by sight, he knew exactly what it could do to him and his guards once aimed and fired. His cat roared beneath the surface, pressing so hard against his bones he thought at any moment they might crack under the pressure and against his will. The two cats behind him were having the same battle, the humans using every bit of their training to keep them in control.

“Let's put it this way, little man,” the commander, who Jacques suspected might be the infamous Captain Lawrence Crowe they'd just been told about from the Comastaz Labs, said to him with a knowing sneer. “If I don't get what I want, this situation's going to get a whole lot uglier.”

“Uglier than you?” Jacques taunted. This man, this soldier-gone-bad was definitely a killer. There was no doubt about that in Jacques's mind.

But even a killer was smart enough not to get rid of the one that could help him, or at least Jacques figured it worked in his best favor to make the lunatic think that.

He hadn't anticipated the captain's speed as he took a step forward, lifted the gun, and brought the barrel across the side of his face. Jacques's head snapped to one side, his dreads flicking along with the motion. Behind him the two guards stepped forward, no doubt holding their guns pointed at the captain. “Stand down,” Jacques commanded. “Stand the hell down!”

“Good move,” the captain said. “Good fucking move.”

He grabbed Jacques by his dreadlocks then, pulling his head back until it could have been ripped right off his neck. Jacques's skin burned, the animal inside busting its way through the human barrier. He gritted his teeth, pushing the beast back, commanding that it too stand down and wait for his next order.

“Now I want you to tell me where they're keeping Dawn Montgomery,” the captain continued.

“Oh, that's what you're here for?” Jacques replied mockingly. “I saw a bit of resemblance to this other ugly motherfucker we have locked up here, figured you were looking for your brother.”

That earned him a knee to the gut, then a kick in the base of his spine as he'd been bent forward. His claws ripped through the skin of his fingers at that moment, the cat too long gone to wait. Jacques shook his head, his teeth sharpening, elongating, but he continued to fight, continued to hold the beast back as best he could. Because if he shifted, the others with him would undoubtedly shift too and then this hell he thought they were in now would be significantly worse. Bas would be disappointed. For Jacques, that just wasn't an option.

So he stayed down. He stayed bowed over, hoping his guards would keep their heads as well in this situation.

“Cap'n?”

Jacques heard one of the men call. He took advantage of the distracting moment by working to steady his breathing. Balling his fists and pressing them to the floor he tried like hell to retract the claws that had the skin around them burning.

“You might want to look at this,” the man continued.

Jacques turned his head a bit, but kept his bowed position, watching in horror as the soldier lifted a file folder from Bas's desk, holding it out to the captain. The commander took the folder, tucking his gun under his arm to free his other hand so he could flip through it. “Smarter than I thought you were, my Dawn,” he said. “Smarter than I thought you were.”

Turning quickly, the commander pushed the file down into the front of his shirt. He nodded his head and Jacques's cat pushed so hard he heard the bones in his shoulder cracking. That was seconds before the gunshots, before he heard his guards fall to the floor and felt the sting of hot bullets penetrating his skin.

“You two get down there and make sure ADAM is secured. You come with me. She's definitely here!” were the last words Jacques heard Captain Lawrence Crowe mutter as he fell to the floor, his face flat down, the cat inside hissing at the pain of the bullets lodged in his back and legs.

When the soldiers had stepped over their bodies, leaving them for dead, Jacques did the only thing he figured he could do. He spoke into his com link, taking short shallow breaths because that's all the pain would allow. If there'd been medical assistance close to him, a
curandero,
or even a human doctor, he might have a shot at living. Shadow Shifters healed at a much faster rate than humans, but that didn't mean they couldn't be mortally wounded, it didn't mean they couldn't die. And without any treatment, he would surely die, there was no doubt. But that wasn't the issue right now, his situation was what it was. His duty, however, would continue until he took his last breath.

So he spoke as quickly as he could. “Crowe's on the … property…” He gasped, waited a second, and continued. “Looking for … ADAM … Dawn … armed. The … bastard … is … armed,” Jacques informed every shifter that was on the secure frequency. Then he dropped his head, heard the deep, muted roar of his cat, and succumbed to the pain, to the darkness, to the enemy.

 

Chapter 14

Bas had been just about to close the door to the SUV after Priya climbed into the third seat of his Tahoe. His plan had been to see the vehicle safely off Perryville grounds. Riddick, one of the senior members of the blue team was in the driver's seat, while Dyson and the veterinarian rode in the second seat. The moment he'd realized Perryville was under attack he'd ordered Dyson to his rooms to gather all the backup information regarding the resort, the Mountain Zone Faction, and everything they'd obtained from Comastaz. The young shifter seemed competent enough when he'd told Bas that it had already been done and his computers were not only equipped with X's self-destruct mechanism should they ever be hacked into, but that he'd developed his own firewalls to take down every computer throughout the entire resort. There would be only two people able to retrieve the information—Dyson and Bas.

Riddick would take them all to the underground shelter each Faction Leader had been ordered to have constructed within the last year. At the time, Bas and Cole, the Central Zone Faction Leader, had thought it a bit of overkill since they all had a main headquarters that they figured would be the safe haven for all of their shifters. As he looked up at the building, wondering exactly which room the voice on the com link was transmitting from, Bas noted the smoke coming from broken windows, the gunshots that still sounded, and figured the underground shelter had been a good idea after all.

Closing the door, Bas walked slowly, replaying what the voice, what Jacques Germain, his longtime friend and second-in-command, had said. When he was at the front of the truck and Riddick no doubt expected him to climb into the front seat next to him, he pounded a fist twice on the hood of the vehicle, nodding his head, telling Riddick he should take off. The shifter did not hesitate, but put the vehicle in drive and turned directly onto the lawn, avoiding all the military vehicles that otherwise blocked the driveway.

“What's your location?” Bas asked, breaking into a slow jog, heading back toward the building. The place that had consumed a huge part of his life over the past years.

“Germain, what's your location?” he asked again, his heart pounding with each second of silence.

“… suite,” was all that came through the connection, a weak voice that changed Bas's jog into a full-fledged run as he moved with the sole purpose of saving his best friend's life.

*   *   *

Ezra grew absolutely still, pulling his mouth from Jewel's, feeling his cat's instant anger at that movement. She'd been slightly resistant when he'd first pulled her close, but the moment their shared heat combined with the atmosphere, it was nothing short of combustible. She'd locked her hands at the base of his neck, holding his head so he couldn't retract. He hadn't wanted to, not at the time. He'd wanted nothing more than to sink into the delicious warmth of her mouth, to inhale and catch every fiber of the floral scent that encased her today.

His body had been rock hard, wanting, no, needing, so much more than just this kiss. He needed to be inside her, deep, buried to the hilt, locking his body inside hers as his release shot straight to her womb, claiming that spot for himself and no other. It was all about claiming this woman, he'd conceded not too long ago. Whatever he had to do, however he had to do it, he needed her to be his, or rather he needed everyone around them to know that she was his.

Did that mean she was his mate? He wasn't sure and at this point didn't care. All he knew for certain was that the shield he'd thought would protect him from debilitating memories had just shifted, leaving him vulnerable to something much more dangerous than the shifter vixen that had tormented him and his brother in the deep recesses of the jungle.

“Repeat,” he said, pressing his right hand to his ear as the connection was coming through with lots of static. “Repeat, goddammit!” he yelled, knowing he'd probably heard correctly the first time.

Jewel stared down at him quizzically. “Who are you talking to?”

He shook his head at her, pointing to his ear as she eased off him, looking as if she knew exactly what he was doing. She scooted even farther across the seat, folding her arms around her midsection but keeping her eyes on his.

“Repeat last message,” Ezra said once more.

This time, the voice he heard was from a different shifter.

“Three down up here,” Bas said, his voice solemn, strained. “Jacques is down.”

Ezra's lips were ready to form the word “repeat” one more time, but he knew that would be futile. He'd heard correctly the first time.

“Crowe was here. He has Jewel's file and ADAM is gone. Perryville is gone.”

Bas sounded as if any second now he would announce his own demise, had no other option at this point but to die along with his dream and his friend. Ezra gritted his teeth.

“I'm heading back,” he said, his free hand clenching into a fist.

“You have the package?” Bas asked.

Ezra nodded, knowing the package was the woman his body was still aching to claim. “Yeah, I've got it,” was Ezra's tight reply.

“Get to safety. He's hunting for her. All of this was to get what he wants back. He's got one part of it, I don't think he's going to stop until he has the other.”

Bas was right. If Crowe had the type of power to summon the military at his command and to stage an attack on a civilian dwelling, he wasn't going to stop at only getting half of what he wanted. He was going to go the full mile, which meant he was still gunning for Jewel. And that meant Ezra would face the bastard sooner, rather than later.

“Head to Rendezvous,” Bas instructed. “I'll be there when everything here is done.”

“No,” Ezra replied immediately. “Everyone there will be in danger, again. I'll contact you in two hours.”

“I said go to Rendezvous, guard. That's a direct order!” Bas yelled through the com.

“Then I'm disobeying a direct order. When you get around to it, charge me,” Ezra said, yanking the small device from his ear and tossing it onto the floor.

“What happened?” Jewel asked, her voice quiet in the interior of the vehicle.

Ezra found he didn't know how to say it, didn't know exactly what to say. He'd only met Jacques Germain on a few occasions, so there was no bond there. None other than shifter to shifter, as Ezra had with most of the faction members he knew across the world. He didn't consider Jacques a friend, more like a coworker instead. Add that to the initial thoughts that Jacques might have a thing for Jewel and he had slipped from coworker to mortal enemy. Yet, the moment Bas said Jacques was down, he'd felt a hollowing in his chest. His cat had retreated from its heated state, to going down on its legs, head lowered, thoughts contemplative.

To say there was no love lost between Ezra and Jacques might be a little melodramatic because something had been lost. Not a friend, but a comrade, a fellow shifter committed to living out the rules that governed them, of fighting beside their leaders, and a man who had genuinely cared for Jewel. That much had been obvious from day one.

Now Jewel was asking what had happened. He had to tell her what had taken place, had to also tell her that the man she feared was actively searching for her. In fact, the asshole was organizing impromptu raids on civilian-packed places, not giving a damn about casualties, only focused on one thing: obtaining her. A man like that was dangerous as hell and needed to be taken down immediately, or she'd never be safe. And that was something Ezra couldn't live with. Ever.

Inhaling deeply, Ezra turned until he faced her on the seat. He reached for her hands but she didn't move, didn't release her arms or extend toward him in any way.

“Jacques is dead,” he said quickly, matter-of-factly, getting the “just pull the damn Band-Aid off” vibe she was giving him.

She sucked in a breath. And that was all. She did not move or speak again, just stared forward. Feeling more than a little bit of turmoil himself, Ezra sat back in the seat, letting his hands fall to his sides as he tried to gather his thoughts. He wasn't taking Jewel to Rendezvous, in fact, he needed to get her as far away from Sedona as he possibly could. But that was thinking long term. He still had business keeping him here, so he had to come up with a safe location for her in the vicinity at least for the time being.

He wasn't leaving Sedona until Captain Lawrence Crowe had been smashed beneath his booted foot and until the monstrosity he'd created was buried as deep in the ground.