Rage & Killian (4 page)

 “Tough, I have things to do.”

“What things?”

“None-of-your-business things.”

Rage heaved a sigh. Dammit. He should have kept his hands to himself. If she ran off before he could ask for her assistance, then Parish was going to kick his ass.

Not that it had been a choice, he ruefully acknowledged. Even now his fingers were twitching with the urge to reach out and touch those glorious golden-red curls.

“I told you Parish sent me, but it’s Xavier who needs your help,” he said, hoping to stir her curiosity.

They were all cats at heart, after all.

“He has an entire posse of Geeks,” she grudgingly pointed out, unable to resist temptation. “Why does he need me?”

“They don’t have your particular talents.”

Her gaze slowly narrowed, the golden eyes smoldering with a dangerous heat. “You mean he needs a hacker?”

“Exactly,” he agreed, grimacing as she gave a sharp burst of laughter. That couldn’t be good. “What’s so funny?”

She stepped forward and poked her finger in the center of his chest. “The self-righteous pricks gave me the option of throwing away my computer or leaving the Wildlands. They claimed I was an undisciplined criminal.” More poking. “And now that they need my services, they suddenly aren’t so worried about ethics?”

She had a point. Rage grimaced, the guilt that he’d felt since Parish had revealed details about her childhood feeling like a lead ball in the pit of his stomach. No one would blame her for telling them all to go to hell.

Unfortunately, they needed her. And it was his responsibility to convince her to forget the past.

“Things change during times of war,” he informed her, not surprised when she rolled her eyes.

“Now who’s being overdramatic?”

“Make no mistake, Lucie, the Pantera are under attack,” he insisted. “You haven’t been around much, but—”

“I know what’s been happening.”

Rage’s brows snapped together. “How?”

She shrugged. “Not everyone considers me a leper.”

“Parish?” he guessed.

Her hands landed on her hips, her expression warning that she was tired of his questions.

“Once again. None of your business,” she growled.

It wasn’t. So why were his hands clenching and his cat pressing against his skin with the need to get out and track down the leader of the Hunters?

Because he was jealous
.

The simple answer sent a jolt of shock through Rage. He’d never been jealous in his entire life.

Shaking off the strange desire to punch Parish in the face, he forced himself to concentrate on the reason he’d come to New Orleans.

“Are you refusing Xavier’s request?” he demanded.

She folded her arms over her chest, her expression defensive. “What if I do?”

“Then I return home and we figure out a new plan.”

She hesitated, licking her lips. “I can just walk away?”

It took a second for the insult to sink in. Then fury pulsed through him.

“Christ, Lucie, what did you expect?” he snarled. “Waterboarding? A couple broken kneecaps? Thumbscrews?”

She at least had the decency to look embarrassed as she hunched her shoulders. “I don’t even know what thumbscrews are.”

Rage stepped back, waving a hand toward the door. Beneath his anger was a sharp-edged hurt that she would ever believe he would threaten her with violence.

“Fine. Go,” he rasped, spinning away with a low curse.

He’d managed to fuck up this meeting on an epic scale. Clearly, Parish should have sent a Suit.

Expecting to hear the slamming of the door, Rage was caught off guard when he heard Lucie heave a sigh.

“Tell me what Xavier needs,” she muttered.

Slowly he turned, studying her with a suspicious frown. “Why?”

* * * *

Why
.

A hell of a question. A shame Lucie didn’t have the answer.

She knew beyond a doubt that it didn’t have a damned thing to do with the male who was staring at her as if she’d just crawled beneath a rock. Hell, if it was up to her, she would walk out the door and never set eyes on him again.

He was flat-out, do-me-now trouble.

She’d always sensed it, even when she’d been too young to know why she watched him. Now that she’d actually tasted his lips and felt his touch…she ached for him with a desperation that was downright dangerous.

If she had one ounce of self-preservation, she’d be running as fast as her feet could carry her.

And it didn’t have anything to do with loyalty to her people. She’d put aside her life as a Pantera, hadn’t she? Okay, her cat demanded the occasional trips to the Wildlands so she could shift and absorb the magic. But she was no longer a part of the pack.

They’d never given a shit about her. Why should she care if they were in danger?

She heaved a deep sigh. The only explanation was that there was a small––very small––part of her that whispered she would regret turning her back if something truly terrible happened.

“Lucie, are you just screwing with me?” Rage abruptly growled, jerking her out of her dark thoughts.

She forced herself to meet his accusing gaze, shuddering as her cat purred in anticipation.

“Tell me what Xavier needs.”

“And you’ll help?”

She held up a hand. Only a fool would commit to some vague request for “help.” She wanted details.

“It depends on what it is.”

The violent eyes smoldered with annoyance, his lips parting only to snap together as Rage made a visible effort to accept her hesitation.

“Fine.” He pointed at the wooden kitchen table. “Grab a seat.”

Lucie frowned, watching as he crossed toward the stove. “What are you doing?”

“I’m starving,” he said, reaching into the cabinet to pull out two bowls. “I didn’t have time to eat before I left so my mother sent some of her famous gumbo with me.” He scooped up two heaping bowls of the spicy stew and placed them on the table. “Don’t tell me your mouth isn’t watering.”

It was. Rage’s mom was a Nurturer who’d offered comfort to the sick Pantera with her delicious cooking. Not that Lucie had ever been allowed to be consoled by the warm-hearted woman.

Unable to resist temptation, she slid into a seat and grabbed for a spoon. “Spoiled,” she muttered, more than a little jealous.

Rage had been petted and adored by his mother and four older sisters.

“Probably,” he admitted, cutting thick slices of bread and grabbing a bottle of wine before he returned to the table and took his own seat. “Eat.”

She sent him a glare, but she readily dug into the gumbo. Her loathing for being told what to do was no match for the enticement of Andouille sausage and plump shrimp and chopped okra, all poured over garlic rice.

A groan was wrenched from her throat as the rich flavors exploded on her tongue. “It’s delicious,” she muttered, keeping her head down as she cleaned the bowl and soaked up the juices with a slice of bread. “I can see why everyone was so eager to taste your mother’s cooking.”

She was oblivious to Rage’s unwavering gaze until he leaned across the table to fill her wineglass.

“Lucie, it’s no excuse, but I didn’t know.” He abruptly broke the silence.

She glanced up in confusion. “Know what?”

His expression was somber. “About your grandfather.”

With a jerky motion she was on her feet, knocking the chair over in her haste to step away from the table. Dammit. Had Parish shared the humiliating details of her childhood?

The thought was…

Horrifying.

The very last thing she wanted was this male’s pity.

“I don’t discuss the past,” she rasped. “Not ever.”

He slowly rose to his feet, regret shimmering in his eyes. “You should have been protected. We all failed you.”

Lucie wrapped her arms around her waist, her mind locked against the grim memories. It was the only way to survive.

“Are you deaf?”

“I had to say it.” Rage rounded the table, prowling forward even as she instinctively backed away. “I’ll never forgive myself for not doing something to help.”

Lucie stiffened. There was no denying the sincerity in his voice. What he felt wasn’t pity for her, but guilt that he hadn’t prevented her grandfather’s brutality.

Oh hell. Her heart melted. She’d always been fascinated by his concern for others. Well, that and the fact he was gorgeous, charming, and sexy as hell. His ability to display such tenderness was a stark contrast to his cat, who was vicious when provoked.

But she’d never directly experienced his fierce need to protect.

It was…intoxicating.

And oh, so dangerous.

“It wasn’t your responsibility,” she muttered.

“It was,” he countered, moving to stand so close she could feel the heat of his body wrap around her. “I’m a Hunter.”

Desperately, she tried to ignore the urge to reach out and run her fingers over his beautiful face. Just to prove to herself he was real.

She needed to put some distance between them.

“And here I thought you were just another pretty face,” she mocked.

His mouth twitched. “Actually, I’m pretty all over. Just in case you were interested.”

“I’m not.”

“The lips say no, but those eyes…” He gave a low chuckle as she lifted her hands to shove him away.

“Are you ever going to get to the point of why you brought me here?” she growled.

His teasing expression slowly faded. “If you’ve been in contact with the Wildlands, then you know we recently prevented a military contractor from using Pantera blood as a serum to create super-soldiers in the military.”

She nodded. It’d been several weeks since she’d been to the bayous, but Parish had called only a few days ago to update her. As always, she refused to tell her friend where she was living, but she couldn’t break all ties with him.

“I thought Stanton was dead?”

“He is, but Xavier intercepted an e-mail from one of the researchers who was working with Locke,” he said, referring to the human who had been Christopher’s right-hand man and responsible for building the laboratories that experimented on Pantera as well as humans. “The mystery man claims he downloaded the data before we torched the place.”

“Do you believe him?” Lucie asked. It would be an easy claim to make.

Rage shrugged. “Impossible to say, but we can’t take the risk he isn’t bluffing.”

“Why not contact the human authorities?”

His beautiful features tightened. “We don’t know who we can trust.”

Lucie snorted. She knew exactly who she could trust.

No one.

“What do you want me to hack?” She went straight to the point.

“Whoever sent the e-mail was setting up an online auction,” Rage explained. “In twenty-four hours, the top bidder will receive the supposed intel.”

Lucie hesitated. She had never been able to resist a challenge. Something that’d gotten her into trouble more times than she wanted to remember.

If she intended to walk away, she had to do it now.

Rage wisely remained silent, waiting for her to sort through her inner conflict until she at last accepted the inevitable. She might want to deny the Pantera as her pack, but in her blood, they were still family.

“Show me,” she muttered in resignation.

Not giving her the opportunity to change her mind, Rage turned to head out of the kitchen. They walked through a large front room with molded ceilings and a sweeping staircase before they crossed the hall into the library.

Lucie glanced around the large space. It was more or less what she expected. Traditional mahogany furnishings that were arranged around the wooden floor. On the far side of the room was a deep alcove with a brocaded chaise lounge, and at the back was a marble fireplace. Her lips twitched as she caught sight of the velvet Elvis painting that was hanging above the mantle.

Someone clearly had a sense of humor.

Rage headed directly to the large desk that was loaded with high-tech electronic surveillance equipment and a computer system that would have been a wet dream for most nerds.

Lucie, however, had a setup that was illegal in most countries.

“Xavier said he’d send the info to this computer,” Rage said. “It’s encrypted, but he said you should be able to—” He bit off his words as Lucie slid into the chair and swiftly lost herself in the world of electronic data.

This was the one place she felt safe.

The one place where no one and nothing could hurt her.

Chapter 3

For the next hour, Rage paced the library. From the bay window to the fireplace. From the alcove to the towering bookcases. All the time keeping a covert watch on Lucie as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

She was completely engrossed in her work, unaware that the glow of the monitor was emphasizing the delicate beauty of her face and shimmering in the fiery highlights in her golden hair.

Rage, however, was painfully conscious of her exquisite temptation.

Something that should have bothered him, not filled him with a joyous sense of anticipation.

Of course, now that Lucie had agreed to assist Xavier, his duty was more or less complete. Why shouldn’t he savor the attraction that sizzled between them? His cat had already decided she was going to be his lover. Maybe even more.

He might as well enjoy the ride.

Right?

Accepting his fate, Rage made another circle of the room, only halting when Lucie at last rose to her feet and lifted her arms over her head to stretch out her tight muscles.

Rage’s cat purred, wanting to lick the pale strip of belly revealed as her tee rode up.

“Whoever set this up was clever,” she said.

Rage reluctantly leashed his animal. Later he could lick. And taste. And maybe bite.

“Can you trace them?” he asked.

“Yes. The auction is set up through a remote computer.” She lowered her arms and leaned against the edge of the desk. “The program is designed to pick the highest bidder, and once the money is transferred to an overseas account, the payload is released.”

Rage frowned. He was a Hunter, not a Geek.

“Payload?”