York (3 page)

Chapter 4

York stood on the street amid the hustle and bustle of the city and was thankful that when the sun had finally dropped the temperature had followed suit.  It wasn’t much, but he’d gladly take the current seventy-eight degrees over the earlier ninety-nine any day of the week.

He lifted sea-green eyes to stare at the white building across the street.  The words Great Western Motel were emblazoned on the façade between the sixth and seventh floors.  He prayed his nose hadn’t let him down.  Completely abandoning his mission
to locate Shy’s sister, he’d followed Shy instead.  Her scent had been hard to trace.  It was her, but different.  Perhaps the local cuisine had altered her scent?  Regardless, he had to find her.  She’d been all-consuming before but now, knowing that she was his Angel, he refused to do anything else until he found her.  He’d secure his mate, and then he’d complete his mission and find her sister.

My mate!
  He smiled as he stepped off the curb to weave his way through traffic toward the motel.  He’d waited a lifetime to be seized by the Walker affliction, and now that he had he refused to prolong his destiny as many of his Walker brethren were prone to do. 

The affliction, as it is named by Skin Walkers, is an instantaneous, animalistic attraction to their destined mate.  Designed to force Walkers to recognize that a particular female holds significance to them, the Walker is instantaneously incapacitated at his recognition of his chosen Angel…afflicted.  Triggered by his primal understanding that he has found his mate, a Walker will forego eating, drinking, and sleeping until the claiming is complete.  A Walker’s preoccupation with claiming, mating, and binding his Angel with his halo is all consuming, an animalistic phenomenon designed to ensure that only the seed of the strongest and most virile of the male Walker species is passed on.  Survival of the fittest. 

Walker men were even known to challenge other males who came in close proximity to their unclaimed mates.

York was halfway across the street, when his feet slowed
, then halted.  The man Sky had attacked earlier appeared on the sidewalk in front of the motel, eyeing the building.  A second—much larger—man appeared at his side.

York bit back his growl and cursed under his breath as vehicles began honking incessantly at his hulking form as it blocked traffic. 

“Shit,” he muttered and stepped back just as a bus passed.  He used the cover to race back across the street before turning to watch the men who were gathered outside Shy’s building.  The wind picked up and as the men talked; his nose caught a familiar scent that had his hackles rising and a feral growl leaving his lips. 
Megalya! 
Were they after his Shy again?

As if sensing him, the
Megalya turned.  The hulking form hidden in a dark trench coat looked out of place in the stifling heat of the archipelago.  His bald head was a pasty white and practically glowed.  The beast lifted hands tipped with pointed nails and removed its dark glasses.  Fully black, beady eyes locked on York as the creature tilted its head to the side, curled back its upper lip and opened its mouth in a silent snarl revealing rows of shark like teeth.

York’s hands curled into white-knuckled fists. 
KILL! 

The instinctual command was instantaneous.  Skin Walkers had few natural enemies, but
Megalya topped them all.  Killers, the Megalya hunted Skin Walkers, decapitated them, and drained their blood in an attempt to glean Walker shifting abilities.  A Walker’s halo—intended solely for his mate, his Angel, was taken by the Megalya and carried as a trophy.

The
Megalya snarling at York now, using his clawed hand to pull back the side of his coat, revealing the unmistakable glint of a half-dozen halos that dangled from the creature’s belt.  Even from the distance that separated them, York could tell that the halos were small.  The “trophies” the Megalya boasted were from women and children. 
Coward
!

York loosed a feral growl and took a step off the curb before the slight man beside the
Megalya drew York’s attention.  His hand snagged on the Megalya’s forearm, earning the man a sneer from the Megalya before he pointed to the building.

Shy!
 

Nothing was sweeter than vengeance, but York’s need to protect his mate kept him from seeking it.  He stepped back into the thick foliage that lined the curb and squatted until he was swallowed by the thick growth.  It took him only a moment to shift
, and then he was flapping the wings of his
Philippine Eagle
form.  He’d studied the animals of the land before traveling, knowing that if he’d need to shift, he’d better find a form that wouldn’t stand out.

It took only seconds to clear the height of the building, and he did so unnoticed.  He circled the rooftop, ensuring it was empty before he sailed low and shifted.  His feet skidded on the graveled rooftop before sliding to a halt.  He didn’t miss a beat as he stomped toward the lone door on the roof.  He had to get to Shy.  The appearance of the Megalya was no coincidence.  They were hunting his mate, and York would die before he’d
ever
let them get their hands on her again.

The roof top door was locked, but it merely slowed the Walker a fraction as he twisted hard, breaking the
handle and using a knee to force the door in.  The second he was inside, he partially shifted, letting his bear lead his nose.  He needed to find Shy fast!

He left the top floor and halted on the next one.  His nostrils flared once before he picked up her scent.  It was Shy, but …
different. 
Not afforded the luxury of time, he opted to sort out her scent once he had the opportunity. 

Quickly, he followed the scent
, and it brought him to a door.  He listened, but heard nothing.  He considered knocking then quickly discarded the idea.  She’d understand the urgency once he explained the Megalya were here.

One large hand gripped the door knob and twisted hard.  He heard the ping of metal before he shoved his shoulder into the door
,  quietly forcing his way into the room.  Stepping inside, he braced for Leto’s attack.  Prepared to defend himself against his fellow Walker, he was disgusted at Leto’s absence.  He must be gone to allow any male to get so close to Shy. 
Why is he absent?

Stifling heat swamped York as well as the heightened scent of his mate.  The sweet scent of her sweat mingled with the ocean air that wafted in through the window.  One closed blind bathed half the room in darkness.  It’s where he found
his Shy, lying asleep on the bed in the dingy room.  Anger was swift.  She looked so small and defenseless lying on the bed.  The fact that Leto was gone while Megalya were on their way up was more than infuriating.  York had to curl his hands against the rage that infused him.  He had to jerk his eyes from Shy to avoid growling at how vulnerable she looked.

Two things struck York as he eyed the small room.  One,
Leto wasn’t simply gone; he’d never been here.  His scent was completely absent.  The Walker hadn’t been in the room at all; and two, the place was a dive by anyone’s standards.  Why would Leto subject his Angel to such frugality?

York shoved the thoughts aside as he crossed the room in a few short strides, his heart swelling with each step until he stood over his sleeping
Angel.  Silently, he admired her shorter hair and smiled at her outfit.  She looked different than he remembered, but it was an improvement.  This Shy seemed designed just for him.  Tight, faded jeans clung to rounded hips.  Her fuller chest was covered by a white tank-top, and York’s brows furrowed at the tattoo peeking out from the shirt that covered her left breast.  
Tattoo? 
It seemed odd for someone like Shy. She’d been so reserved, so…
shy!

Shy moaned and he jerked out of his admiration knowing the
Megalya were near, which meant he and his Angel needed to move.  His anger returned at the fact that, if he hadn’t accepted this mission, the Megalya downstairs would have been the one breaking into Shy’s room and standing over her while she slept.  His gut twisted at the thought of his Angel even being in the same region as the Megalya.

He turned, looking for Shy’s shoes and found them near the window.  Quickly retrieving them, he stood over Shy and was untying one when a soft gasp had his eyes slashing to his mate.  She was awake. 
Good!

Chapter 5

Sky’s eyes fluttered open with the odd sensation that she wasn’t alone.  Blinking, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light and her heart lurched in her chest at the sudden movement she spotted near the foot of the bed.  She swallowed, but didn’t even get the chance to move before the large figure turned to loom over her. 
Big Red!
 

She must have made a noise because his eyes jerked to hers before his brows slowly
creased.  .  She was on her knees in a flash, rolling to the far side of the bed and jerking the lamp from where it sat on the nightstand, wielding it like a weapon.  Her own brows furrowed in an angry scowl.  “What are you doing in my friggin’ room?” she demanded harshly.

Big Red dropped his
hands, and his nostrils flared.  “Shy?”

She shook her head and hurled the lamp at him.  Her body twisted with the
motion, and she was headed for the door when strong arms caught her, lifting her easily from the floor. 

Punching and kicking wildly, Sky growled, “Put me down, fucker!”

“Shy, it’s me.  It’s York!”

York!  What in the hell is that supposed to mean?
And how in the hell does he know Shy?
Still she thrashed but to no avail.  Gripping the massive arm clamped around her, she threw her head back but Big Red was too good.  He jerked his head out of the way at the last second and growled as her head connected with his shoulder instead of his face.  “Stop fighting me!”

Sky was tempted to scream
, and he must have known because a large hand clamped over her mouth.

“Don’t,” the word was a low growl that rumbled in the man’s chest. 

Chest heaving, and limbs exhausted, Sky quieted to take deep breaths through her nose as she eyed the room formulating a plan.  If this asshole thought she’d just give in and let him rape her, he was in for one hell of a surprise.  Taking one last deep breath, she opened her mouth wide and bit down on the hand covering her face.  She’d expected Big Red to release her instantly, but even when she tasted the coppery tang of his blood, he continued to hold his hand clamped over her mouth as she struggled for freedom.  

The chest behind her rumbled deep and low and had her stilling with the feral intensity of the sound.  It was animalistic and frightening. 
Shit!
  She’d hurt the behemoth and now had no means of escape.  Worse, the vision in her left eye suddenly wavered.  She hadn’t gotten enough sleep, and her migraine was back with a vengeance. 

As her eyesight lessened in one eye, her depth perception was thrown off, forcing Sky to clamp her left eye shut as she struggled to calm her breathing.  She waited for her captor to declare his intentions.  Rape, murder, was he the one who had Shy?  She stilled, awaiting the declaration of her fate as she prayed her sight would recover fully.

***

It took York one touch to realize the woman in his arms was not Shy.  It was her sister,
his
mate!  The revelation was thrilling.  He wouldn’t have to kill Leto to claim what was his, and his Angel hadn’t been touched by another Walker.  Possessiveness, longing and sexual hunger tore through him as it mixed with a giddy elation that left him feeling light-headed.  

“Easy,” he crooned at her ear,
completely ignoring the sting in his hand.  The beasts within him, who’d been close to the surface since they’d discovered the Megalya nearby, surged forth excitedly at the fact that their female had already marked them.  He wanted to spin her around to face him, so he could kiss her, gift her with his halo, and then sink himself inside her, but the sudden scent of her fear stalled all thought but comforting and protecting. 

“My name is York.  Shy sent me to find you.”  His declaration didn’t ease any of the tension from the small frame that he held clamped to
his front.  Slowly, he lowered his hand.

“Prove it,” his female snarled angrily.  She was nothing like her timid sister. 

“She said to tell you,”
Aww shit!  What was it Shy had said?
  She’d made him memorize a phrase that would prove to her sister that he was an ally. 
What in the hell had Shy said? 
He couldn’t think straight.  Her tiny body clamped to his front had his mind going other places.

He felt his female go rigid in his arms and knew she was planning something.

“Wait!” he commanded.  “It was something about battle.” 
Yeah, that was it. 
“Battle and blood.”

He got one feminine snort before the petite frame in his arms exploded in a flurry of motion that he didn’t have time for.  The
Megalya and his friend were on their way up, and he had to get his mate to safety.  NOW!

Taller than most Walkers, York’s frame boasted even more muscle than his brethren.  He didn’t even need to struggle to move his unwilling mate.  Simply clamping both hands on slender hips, he lifted and  turned her before bending
and tossing her over his shoulder, and hurrying toward the door.  She punched at his back and tried to kick free of the arm that held her legs clamped, but it was useless. 

“HEY!  PUT ME DOWN!  RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”

He smiled as he stalked down the hall toward one stair well.  His nostrils flared as he opened the door scenting for the Megalya.  The coast was clear.  They must have taken the elevator. 

“Where do you think you’re taking me?  I’m going to
fucking
scream!  LET ME GO!”

He needed his female quiet.  “You need to be quiet, men are coming for you.  We need to escape.”  If it had been Shy, his plea might have worked, but the bundle of dynamite slung over his shoulder wasn’t so easily subdued.  He felt her draw in a deep breath and knew what was coming.  Quickly, he fished in his pocket and yanked out one of the syringes Dr. Jenny
Arkinson had given him.  “My heart, please…don’t scream,” he pleaded one last time hoping he wouldn’t have to put his mate out.

She ignored his plea and when a loud shriek left her mouth, he jerked the cap off the syringe with his teeth and jabbed the needle into her ass.

Her scream turned into a yip of pain before she punched him in the kidneys with a, “You motherfucker!”  He smiled.  She was strong and fierce.  She continued to pummel his back with feminine growls of rage as her body slowly wore down and finally went limp over his shoulder. Her one last whimper had guilt biting hard.  Beneath all the bravado, his mate was afraid, and he didn’t like it.  Worse,
he
was the source of her fear. 

With her out, he lifted a large hand to massage her ass where he’d injected her.  He didn’t want the site to sting later, at least that’s what he told himself.  The firm globe fit perfectly into the palm of his hand and he continued to squeeze and rub as he quickly descended the steps, ignoring the sudden tightness in the front of his pants. 
Some Sentry,
he scoffed.  The Megalya were steps behind him; his mate was in danger, and he was fighting a damn erection!

My mate!
  He was too giddy with excitement and anticipation to care that he was being irrational.  It felt like Christmas Eve and soon, very soon, he’d get to unwrap his gift! 

She’s a cross between Shy and Aries! 
The two most desirable females he knew had been rolled up into one perfect package that was made just for him. 
Mine!
He growled internally and with each step he took, descending the building, he repeated the word until it was a chant in his head,
Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!