Michel/Striker (9 page)

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Authors: Alexandra Ivy,Laura Wright

BOOK: Michel/Striker
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“Just what?” Michel demanded, baring his teeth. “Animals?”

“Don’t kill us,” the younger male pleaded, kneeling on the floor. “We were only following orders.”

Michel’s finger tightened on the trigger. It would be so easy. These men had kidnapped, tortured, and potentially killed Pantera. They deserved to die.

Unfortunately, he knew Raphael would want to question the humans.

“You can plead for mercy once you’re in the Wildlands,” he snarled.

The older man made a sound of horror. “You can’t take us there.”

“Okay.” Michel aimed the gun at the man’s head, enjoying his terror. Yeah, it was petty, but he wanted them to suffer. “Then you die here.”

“No.” The older man fell to his knees next to his companion, the stench of piss filling the air.

“Christ.” Michel grimaced in disgust, dismissing the cowardly scientists as he headed across the tiled floor toward the panel built into the wall. A few seconds later he’d short-circuited the locks that were directly connected to the Pantera cells.

Then, studying the captives as they scrambled out of their prisons, he determined the dominant—a female Hunter with short black hair and amber eyes.

“What’s your name?” he demanded.

“Gabriella.”

“Are you healthy enough to drive?”

The female shuddered as her body began to strengthen now she was no longer near the bars that were heavily laced with malachite.

“I will be,” she promised, her gaze sliding toward the researchers who remained locked in their cell.

Michel knew exactly what she was thinking.

Blood. Death. Dismemberment.

Not necessarily in that order.

He moved to block her view. As much as he appreciated her lust for revenge, he had to keep her focused on the larger picture.

“There’s a van parked in front of the bunker,” he told her, his voice filled with the authority of his alpha nature. “Get the others out of here.”

She nodded before she was abruptly stiffening, her head tilted back as she sniffed the air.

“Wait.” She glanced toward the door. “Someone’s approaching.”

“Shit,” he breathed, picking up the unmistakable scent of approaching humans. He knew it’d been too easy to get to the lab. “The guards.”

Surprisingly the Hunter shook her head, her slender body vibrating with tension. “No, this is the same smell as the men who arrived earlier and killed Terri.”

Michel’s brows snapped together. “They’re not Locke’s?”

“No. They belong to Cole Security, the military contractor. The jackasses sent two men earlier this morning to take Terri. There was a nasty fight that ended up with Terri dead and three humans sent to the hospital,” she said, jerking her head toward the broken instruments that had been piled in the corner. “I think there’s some sort of power struggle going on.”

Michel’s breath hissed through his teeth. “I don’t suppose we’ll be lucky enough for them to kill one another,” he muttered.

The Hunter looked grim. “Doubtful.”

Michel turned to the Pantera huddled together in the center of the lab, drawing comfort in being near one another.

“I need those capable of fighting to stay with me,” he said. “And one volunteer to lead the others out of here.”

With speed that would astonish a human, three Pantera had moved to stand next to the Hunter while a Healer entered the cell to scoop the terrified human female into his arms and then herd the other two Pantera out the door that led to an escape tunnel.

Michel followed behind them, closing and locking the door before returning to the Hunters who’d spread out as they prepared to fight.

“They’re coming,” he murmured, lifting his gun even as the female Hunter gave a low laugh of anticipation.

“Bring it on,” she rasped, holding up her hands to reveal four-inch claws.

Michel blinked in shock, his gaze lifting to take in her long fangs and the pure gold of her eyes.
God. Damn.
It should have been impossible outside the Wildlands. “You can shift.”

She shrugged. “Only partially.”

“How?”

Her lips twisted in a bitter smile. “Whatever shit they were pumping into me, altering my DNA.” She slashed her claws through the air. “Now I get to use my new powers to kill them.”

He dipped in head in respect to her fierce spirit. “Ironic.”

“Justice,” she said, turning toward the six humans who entered the lab.

Justice. Yes.
Michel returned her smile as they charged forward, easily overwhelming the intruders.

CHAPTER 6

Chelsea heard the sound of approaching footsteps only a few minutes after Michel disappeared.

Instinctively she tried to follow him, only to realize that she wasn’t going to have time to cross the central room before the intruders entered. With no choice, she darted down one of the long hallways, entered the first office she could find and locked the door.

She breathed a sigh of relief only to give a small squeak of alarm as a hidden door behind her slid open to reveal the male she’d once called her lover.

Hastily she hid the gun behind her back, her gaze taking in the lean face that was pale and almost gaunt in the flickering fluorescent light. He looked as if he’d aged ten years in the few weeks since she’d last seen him.

“I thought that was you on the security camera,” he murmured, crossing the small room to stand directly in front of her. “Hello, Chelsea.”

A bittersweet pain sliced through her heart. She would always care for this man. No matter what he’d done. But she wasn’t a fool. If he realized why she was there he wasn’t going to let her walk away.

Not again.

“Locke.” She twisted her lips into a faux smile. “I was looking for you.”

He arched a brow. “Were you?”

“Yes, I—”

Her words were cut short as he pressed a finger to her lips. “Please, don’t,” he murmured, his voice surprisingly rough. He usually took great care to maintain his polished accent. “The one thing we always had between us was honesty. Don’t ruin that.”

She grimaced. He was right. They’d never been able to lie to one another.

“Okay. I came with a Pantera,” she said, allowing her hand to fall to the side so he could see the gun she was holding. “They needed me to help track you.”

He barely glanced at the weapon, a sad expression softening his too-thin face. “I assumed it would come to this.”

She blinked, hating the sight of him looking so defeated. “Then why did you release me?”

“Because I love you.”

“Not as much as your master,” she reminded him, knowing that this man would never truly understand love.

“I swore an oath.” He shrugged. “What sort of man would I be to turn my back on my pledge?”

“He was never worthy of your loyalty, Locke,” she said.

“Probably not.”

She narrowed her gaze in surprise. Over the years Locke had never flinched, no matter what outrageous sacrifices Christopher had demanded. Now she sensed that Locke was no longer as blindly devoted as he’d once been.

“He’s betrayed you, hasn’t he?” she said, her sympathy genuine.

He grimaced, reaching toward her. “It doesn’t matter. All I care about right now is getting you out of here.”

Chelsea stepped back, avoiding his grasp. “I’m not leaving without Michel.”

“Michel?” Locke frowned, then abruptly dropped his hand. “Oh. You mean the Pantera.”

She met his gaze squarely. She wasn’t ashamed of her growing connection to Michel. Hell, a part of her wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

“Yes.”

Pain darkened his eyes before he was giving a shake of his head.

“You can’t stay, Chelsea,” he insisted. “It’s not safe.”

She stiffened, recalling the sound of footsteps that had driven her into this office. “Is this a trap?”

“It’s not me you have to worry about, Chelsea,” he assured her. “Not ever.”

Her mouth went dry. Something was going on. Something bad.

“Tell me what happened.”

He hesitated, a flush of shame staining his cheeks. “Christopher has sold our research to a military contractor,” he at last admitted.

Chelsea had already suspected the truth, but still, his confession came as a punch to the gut.

“You promised—”

“It’s too late,” he interrupted.

“He’s right. It is too late,” a male voice floated across the room.

Chelsea jerked her attention toward the open door that Locke had so recently used to enter the room.
Gah.
Why had she let herself be distracted by her former lover? She didn’t think he’d deliberately set her up. His expression was as horrified as her own. But still…

She studied the large, bald male dressed in a uniform who was pointing a gun directly at her heart.

“Slide the gun over here,” the man ordered.

Locke moved to stand at her side. “Do it, Chelsea,” he warned in soft tones.

Bending down, Chelsea placed the gun on the floor and slid it toward the man.

He watched the weapon skid to a halt at his feet before he turned his attention to Locke.

“It’s unfortunate that it’s come to this, Locke,” he said, his insincerity patently obvious.

“It’s unfortunate that your men killed a helpless female,” Locke countered, not bothering to disguise his own disdain.

“I’m sure it was an accident.” The man shrugged. “Now, you have something I want.”

“Here.” Digging into the front pocket of his pants, Locke pulled out a key card and tossed it toward the intruder.

The man muttered a curse, his round face hard with anger. “I want your computer, Locke.”

Chelsea glanced at the man at her side. Had he hidden his computer to keep the military from getting their hands on his research?

“I haven’t had time to bring it from my other office,” Locke said.

“Now, Locke,” the intruder snarled, deliberately glancing toward Chelsea. “Unless you want another helpless woman to die today.”

Chelsea’s heart slammed against her chest, her fear thundering through her.

Where was Michel? Was he safe? Had he escaped with the other Pantera? God, she hoped so.

“Wait,” Locke snapped, stepping forward.

The man tensed, his patience clearly at an end. “Your computer,” he repeated. “I won’t ask again.”

Locked nodded and Chelsea reached to grasp his arm.

She wasn’t a hero. But there was no way she could live with herself if she knew she was responsible for the military using her research to create genetically altered mutants.

“Don’t, Locke,” she pleaded.

The stranger gave a small wave of his gun. “I will shoot.”

Chelsea glared at his pudgy face. Shit. She really, really disliked the bastard.

Locke held up one hand while he shoved the other in the pocket of his suit jacket.

“Just relax,” he muttered, pulling out a small disk drive. “I have all my research on this.”

A sickening anticipation smoldered in the man’s pale eyes. “Hand it over,” he commanded, his gun swinging in Locke’s direction. “Slowly.”

Locke stepped forward, only to halt and glance over his shoulder with a wistful smile. “I really did love you, Chelsea.”

“Locke?” she breathed, already knowing what he was about to do before he dropped the disk drive on the floor and crushed it with his heel. Then, with grim determination, he charged forward. “No,” she screeched, watching in horror as the stranger squeezed the trigger and pumped three shots into Locke’s chest.

Her every instinct urged her to rush to Locke’s side as he tumbled to the ground, but she fiercely forced herself to turn away. He’d sacrificed himself so she could escape. She wasn’t going to dishonor him by doing something stupid.

Even as she turned, however, the door was being smashed open and Michel rushed in with a female Pantera.

His swift glance took in Chelsea, making sure she wasn’t hurt, before he turned to absorb the sight of Locke lying face-first on the floor and the large man who was now pointing the gun in his direction.

Astonishingly, the female with short, dark hair gave a low, chilling laugh.

“This one’s mine,” she growled, leaping across the floor even as Michel was rushing forward.

Shots rang out, and Chelsea pressed a hand to her mouth, terrified one of the Pantera might be hit.

But with a blinding speed, both managed to avoid getting hit, and, grabbing the man by the arms, Michel held him captive as the female lifted her hand and slashed her nails across his throat.

No. Chelsea blinked in shock.
Not nails, but claws.

Four-inch claws that ripped through the man’s beefy neck as if it was butter.

Blood flowed and chunks of flesh hung from the man’s throat before Michel was tossing him aside like he was a piece of trash.

A part of Chelsea was horrified. She’d just watched two men die.

No matter what they’d done, it was an awful thing.

But a larger part was so relieved that Michel was alive and unhurt that she barely noticed the bodies sprawled on the floor as she launched herself straight into his waiting arms.

***

Michel stood at the edge of the clearing, taking pleasure in the sight of the Pantera who’d gathered to enjoy a collective meal among the wooden tables spread across the sun-drenched glade.

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