Taming the Fire (30 page)

Time to do what needed to be done, no matter how much he didn't want to.

He pressed a kiss to Meg's forehead. “I gotta go.” Wincing, he buttoned his pants and avoided looking at her. She tugged her robe together and sat up with him.

“So, um… what now?” Her voice was morning-raspy and so freaking hot. He'd love to hear it every morning.

It was so tempting to tell her he wanted to see her again, but not until he got himself back. “Now I go back to work, and you go back to what you were doing before I kidnapped you.” He'd made his voice as gentle as possible, but the way hurt flashed in her eyes told him it wasn't enough.

“That's it?” She stood, jerked the ties of her robe around her waist with shaking hands. “After all of this—not just the sex, but…
everything
, you're just casually walking away?”

He came to his feet in an instant, grabbed her shoulders and brought her hard against him. “There's nothing casual about it,” he growled. “But you're so much better than me, and I can't risk hurting you. So yes, that's it. But dammit, don't
ever
think there was anything casual between us.”

With that, he swept out of the room.

And he didn't look back.

U
LRIKA SAT
in the corner of her cage, waiting for Trance to come back. He said ACRO would find a way to remove her collar, and she believed him. Kira had been in too, had tried to convince Rik to come out of the cage, but she'd refused. Until the collar was gone and she could be sure that no one would use a remote to force her into beast form or blow her up in a crowd of people, she was staying put.

Kira had brought her food, blankets, clothes, even a few magazines to read. Then she'd tried to communicate with Rik's inner wolf, but that hadn't gone so well. The beast was furious at having been stopped from killing Trance, and right now, it wanted to strike at anyone who came near.

The door opened, and Trance walked in. He was wearing black BDUs and combat boots, and Rik's mouth watered. He wore the uniform as if it had been custom-made for him, and she had the sudden urge to lick it right off him.

“Hey.” He approached the cage but didn't unlock the door, and her heart dropped a little. Especially because the expression on his face said that something was not good. And he smelled like irritation. And anxiety.

She came to her feet. “What is it?”

“Dev found someone who might be able to remove your collar.”

Good news. So why did he look like he was announcing a funeral? “But?”

“He doesn't want to do it.”

She blinked. “Oh. It's the explosive charge, isn't it?”

“No. He can stand back several feet, so that's not the problem.”

She frowned. “Then why?”

Trance didn't have time to answer before the door opened and a tall, dark-haired man walked in. Instantly, a cold sweat broke out over her skin, and her lungs seized. She stumbled backward, slamming into the cage bars.

The man who walked in wanted her dead. The look in his eyes revealed nothing less than murder.

Her mind flashed back to the day she'd escaped from Itor, the day she'd been tasked for the assassination of TAG's chief, Faith Black.

Rik's handler had activated the collar as Rik approached Faith in a park, turning Rik into a raging monster that attacked the operative. The beast had delivered a fatal blow and had nearly finished with her when the dark-haired man came out of nowhere, his bellow of rage something that haunted Rik's dreams to this day. Without touching her, he'd thrown her several yards away. She'd crashed into a tree, felt bones crack.

As the man tended to the woman, Rik had shifted back into her human form and crawled off, somehow managing to climb into the back of a farmer's truck several miles away. She'd covered herself with hay and made her escape, but never knew how things with the woman had turned out.

From the expression on the ACRO operative's face… not good.

Trance moved to him, grasped his shoulder. “It wasn't her, Wyatt. It was the beast.”

Wyatt's green eyes drilled into her. “Ulrika.” He'd said her name, but his tone said,
Die, bitch
.

She swallowed. Hard. “I—I'm sorry—”

“Sorry?”
he roared. “You ripped my wife's throat out!” He shrugged off Trance's hand and slammed his own hands onto the cage bars. “If I hadn't been there, or if I'd been ten seconds later, she would have bled out and died. Her and the baby.”

Baby?
Faith had been pregnant? Rik wanted to throw up.

“The only reason they survived is that I'm biokinetic and I was able to repair on the spot some of the damage you caused. But she was in intensive care for weeks, you—”

“Wyatt!” Trance snapped. “Check the fuck up. Faith's okay now. And so is the baby.”

Wyatt rounded on Trance, fists clenched. For a long moment they were nose-to-nose, the air between them roiling with tension. Finally, Wyatt shook his head. “I'm not doing this.”

He stormed out of the room, and Trance went after him. “Dammit, Wyatt! She was under orders! Don't tell me you haven't done some questionable things to get the job done.”

Trance's voice was muffled through the door, but she heard them both clearly enough, and her heart pounded while she waited. Maybe it would be better to not have the collar removed, because she wouldn't put it past Wyatt to detonate the collar
accidentally
.

“I don't care!” Wyatt said, and she heard the distinct sound of a fist hitting a wall.

“Come on, man.” Trance's voice was calmer now, and barely audible. “They made her do it. They tortured her. Turned into an uncontrollable creature that did their dirty work. She couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't her fault.”

There was a long silence, and finally, the door opened again. Trance and Wyatt entered, and though hate still gleamed in Wyatt's eyes, he looked a little less homicidal. Like maybe he'd kill her quickly instead of making it hurt.

She took a tiny step away from the back of the cage.

“Stand still!” he barked, and his eyes began to glow amber, the way they'd been when he'd thrown her against the tree.

Her whole body began to tremble uncontrollably. He was going to kill her. She knew it. “Trance…”

Trance's gaze tore between Wyatt and her, and with a curse, he entered the cage.

“What are you doing?” She backed away from him, bumped into the bars. But his arms came around her and he pulled her close. “What—”

“Shh,” he whispered into her ear. “Just stand still. I'm here. I'll stay with you.”

“No!” She struggled to get out of his grip, but his arms were steel. “If the collar detonates—”

“It won't. Wyatt won't let it explode if it'll kill me too.”

“Goddammit, Trance,” Wyatt snapped. “Get away from her!”

“Do it.” Trance's voice was hard, but his hand stroked her back gently. “Hurry up.”

Wyatt's curses flooded the room. She felt a brief tingling in her throat. Heard some faint clicking noises. Each one made her heart leap. Sixty seconds later, the collar sprang loose and hit the floor with a clatter.

Relief and joy struck her like a blow, and she collapsed. Trance caught her, held her as she sobbed against him. She was safe. No longer bound to Itor by a device that turned her into a monster at their will.

Sniffling, she turned to thank Wyatt, but he was gone, reminding her that even without the collar, she was still a monster.

T
RANCE REMAINED
on the floor with Rik in his arms while she cried quietly. As her breathing became less hitched, he shifted and stroked her hair, whispered that it was done and over.

He didn't want to let her go, because having her cradled against his chest was what he'd been thinking about since the last time he'd been able to have full body contact with her.

Tearing himself away wasn't easy, not when they were alone and he was aroused and all he needed now was her body under his, on his, wherever she wanted him, but it wasn't the time for that. He still had amends to make and he wanted to let Rik taste the freedom she'd now have.

She deserved nothing less, no matter Wyatt's opinion.

She looked surprised when he moved to her and stood, leaving her curled against the wall, one hand pressed against her now naked throat. There was a mark there that would fade over time, but he suspected the memories of what had happened to her would take far longer to heal.

“Come on, Rik—you can come out of here now.” Trance held his hand out to her, but she ignored it, stared at the door Wyatt had left through as if all the ghosts of her past were there.

“No,” she said hoarsely. “I can't. Don't you understand—I'm still the same inside. I can still change. I'm still a danger.”

“We all are.”

“Not like me.”

“So you want me to have tea served at your pity party, then?” His voice was angrier than he'd expected it to come out, but it made her snap to attention, nonetheless.

“I'm not in the mood to play Dom/sub.”

“And I'm not ready to leave you in this cage. You wanted that collar off—it's done. The rest—controlling the beast that lives inside of you—well, that's all up to you now, isn't it?”

“I haven't been in control in so long… I don't know what it's like,” she admitted. “I'm scared.”

He still held out his hand, and several agonizing heartbeats later, she accepted it, let him help her up from the ground. She stood in front of him unsteadily, as if having the collar gone had temporarily messed with her sense of balance.

With her hand still in his, he finally told her what he'd wanted to before Ryan broke into the safe house and sped up his time line. “I didn't lie to you about my issues with my strength when we first met, Rik. You have no idea what you did for me. I've never let anyone in the way I did you—never let my guard down. And I lied to you before, when I told you that the reason I care is because it's my job. And now you fucking hate me and I get that. But if I can make it up to you somehow…”

“And then what?”

“And then, if you don't hate me… I'd like to see you. In a non–work-related situation. Take you out. Maybe even make love to you, if you'll let me. But you don't have to agree to any of that now—let's just walk out of here together and get you moved into a trainee billet.”

Her eyes studied him carefully—they were an almost brilliantly ringed topaz and he waited for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she tugged her hand out of his and looked long and hard at the opened doorway before she exited ahead of him.

He understood that she had to do it on her own, without him. But once she was on the other side, she turned back to look at him and gave him a small smile and he knew that, somehow, everything would be all right.

The next twenty-four hours passed quickly for Ulrika, and for the most part, her inner wolf behaved.

Trance had taken her to ACRO's training quarters, which were, to her surprise, not scary, gray cells with bars, but dormlike rooms complete with beds, kitchenettes, private bathrooms, desks, bookshelves and even a small television. An exotic, dark-skinned woman had arrived immediately after Trance left, introduced herself as Neema, a Tanzanian-born martial artist whose venomous bite could stun an opponent for up to ten minutes.

She would be Rik's primary trainer and handler.

Neema had taken Rik on an orientation of the base, had been patient and understanding when Rik would suddenly need to sit somewhere quiet for a few minutes and gather her wits after the beast grew agitated about something. It had never liked men, and it grew tense every time she walked by one. And the medical facility had sent it into a tizzy Rik almost couldn't control.

“We'll avoid Medical for now,” Neema had said, in her lilting British accent.

After that, Neema had loaded Rik down with books. Apparently, every trainee had to learn the history behind ACRO, the rules they must follow if they wanted to work there, and the basic structure of the operation.

Rik figured she'd be reading for a month.

The cool thing? No one had poked her with a needle, threatened her or chained her up. They did lock the door to her room as a precaution, but she was okay with that.

Locking the door ensured everyone's safety.