Page 3 of Angel/Hiss


  Something dark and dangerous flared through his eyes, an enticing musk scenting the air before he gave an abrupt shake of his head.

  “You’re not Pantera.”

  Her lips twisted at the accusation in his voice. Did he assume that no one but the Pantera had suffered at the hands of Locke and his cronies?

  “No. I’m human.” She shrugged. “Or at least I was until my mother sold me to Benson Enterprises.”

  He did another long, disturbingly intense survey of her, sweeping down her taut body before he met her guarded gaze.

  “Benson?” he finally demanded and Indy released the breath she hadn’t even known she was holding.

  She hated trying to explain how any mother could willingly sell her only child to a monster.

  “They’re a research lab based in New York,” she explained.

  “It’s owned by Locke?”

  Indy didn’t have to ask the male’s opinion of Stanton Locke. The very air sizzled with the force of his seething hatred.

  “His name is on the dummy corporation that runs it,” she qualified. At the beginning she’d devoted every waking thought to how she could destroy Locke for what he’d done to her and dozens of others. But over the years, she’d uncovered enough evidence to make her realize that Locke was just the tip of the iceberg. “Although I suspect he’s nothing more than a flunky for a man, or men, who prefer to hide in the shadows.”

  His expression was unreadable as he considered her words, but Indy didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he remained deeply suspicious of her.

  Not to mention…pissed as hell.

  Not that she blamed him. But she had to find some way to convince him she had no choice. How else could she plead for him to help Willa?

  “While you were at the lab did you see any Pantera being held there?” he abruptly demanded.

  “Yes. They were being held in the secret tunnels built beneath the labs,” she revealed, a tiny shiver racing through her body at the memory of their agonized cries that echoed through the vents. “The rats were kept a floor above them. I could hear them sometimes. At night.”

  His brows snapped together. “Rats?”

  “The humans, like me, who were kept for experimentation.”

  ***

  Angel pressed his hands against the cold cement floor, struggling to remain upright. Fucking malachite. Even though it had burned out of his bloodstream, it still left him feeling weak and dangerously vulnerable.

  Even worse, his cat was restless and distracted, prowling beneath his skin as it urged him to break through the bars and reach the female who’d taken him captive.

  A reasonable response, if the damned thing was anticipating the taste of her blood. Or the sensation of his claws ripping through her flesh.

  She’d tricked him, darted him with a toxic brew of malachite, imprisoned him, and admitted that she knew their enemy, even if she claimed she was as much a victim as the Pantera.

  He should be foaming at the mouth to destroy the bitch.

  Instead the animal inside him was far more intent on getting a better sniff of her enticing scent of wildflowers. And licking that creamy smooth skin to see if it was truly as soft as it looked. And getting her pinned beneath him so he could sink into her heat…

  Shit.

  With an effort he leashed his beast, trying to clear his foggy mind. Later he would worry about his reaction to the tiny, dark-haired female.

  For now, he needed to uncover her true connection to Stanton Locke. Maybe she was the victim she claimed to be, or maybe this was just another trap set by their enemies.

  Either way, he had to discover what she knew about Locke and his connection to the Pantera.

  After that…she belonged to him.

  His cat gave a low growl of anticipation. He had every intention of hauling Indy to the Wildlands. Not because he wanted the aggravating female in his homelands and in his power… Okay, that was a lie.

  He desperately wanted her in his power.

  But most importantly, he couldn’t allow a human with the knowledge of malachite to simply roam around. Not until they could be damned sure she wasn’t going to reveal the Pantera weakness to others.

  But first things first.

  “What kind of experimentation?” he demanded, grimly forcing himself to his feet.

  “It was different for all of us,” she said, her expression distracted as she became lost in the past. “Karen was a brood mare.”

  Angel’s brows snapped together. Was she implying what he thought she was implying?

  “What’s that mean?”

  “She was inseminated with Pantera sperm.”

  Angel’s hands curled into tight fists. Yep. It was exactly what he feared.

  Dammit. They’d been searching for additional property that Locke might own, but Angel had fiercely hoped the Haymore Center had been his only Frankenstein laboratory.

  “She became pregnant?”

  Indy glanced toward the door of the locker room, as if ensuring they were alone. Angel abruptly realized that she was talking about the female he’d sensed in the room before he’d opened his eyes.

  “Several times,” she admitted in clipped tones. “Most ended in miscarriages, but she managed to go full term for three children.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “The two older boys were taken away before I could help her escape.” Her stunning eyes darkened to deep shade of indigo, her anger heating the air just as if she was a Pantera. Odd. “We did manage to save her younger son, Caleb. We’re still searching for the older ones.”

  He took a step forward, fascinated by her obvious frustration. This was a female who not only cared about others, but took an active role as a protector.

  “Were you a brood mare?”

  “No.” She gave a sharp shake of her head, the silky ebony strands falling across her forehead. “I was a cavy.”

  A nasty sense of dread clenched his stomach. He was a doctor. He knew exactly what a ‘cavy’ meant.

  “A test subject,” he said in flat tones.

  She wrapped her arms around her slender waist, her cocky bravado missing as she visibly struggled with the demons from her past.

  “Exactly,” she rasped.

  Angel could sense the truth of her words. Her pain was too raw, too soul-deep to be faked. Not that he trusted her. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was letting down his guard until he had the female locked in his home in the Wildlands. But he was beginning to accept that she truly had been tortured by Locke.

  “What did they do to you?”

  “I’m not entirely sure.” She grimaced. “Layton was given blood transfusions with Pantera blood—”

  “Layton?” he sharply interrupted. The male had better hope he didn’t have a claim on this female.

  “One of the young men I rescued from the New York lab,” she explained, her tone one of an older sister instead of a lover. “Along with Nadia, who was given a bone marrow transplant.”

  Angel sucked in a harsh breath. “Christ.”

  She hunched a shoulder, her expression defensive as if uncomfortable at the thought he might feel sorry for her. Something dangerous tightened his chest. Not just his cat that was raging with the need to punish anyone stupid enough to hurt this female, but a strange sensation that was all human and all male.

  “I was always unconscious when they took me from my cage into the lab, but I suspect they somehow screwed with my DNA,” she admitted in harsh tones.

  Angel grimly leashed his perilously intense reaction to this female and instead forced himself to concentrate on her confession.

  “Why do you think they did something to your DNA?”

  She shivered, no doubt reacting to his barely contained fury.

  “I’m stronger than most women and faster. I can also see in the dark.”

  Angel narrowed his gaze. “And you can sense Pantera?” he pressed.

  “How did…” Her startled words broke off as she
grimaced, realizing she’d given herself away. “Yes.”

  “What else?”

  “I can also sense cavies.”

  He frowned. If she could sense the lab rats then she had to have even more Pantera blood than he’d first suspected.

  Damn.

  “Any other gifts?”

  Her lips twisted with a bitterness she made no effort to hide. “Gifts? Is that a joke?” she snapped. “I’ve been cursed, Dr. Savary.”

  He stepped forward, halting just inches from the bars that were laced with malachite.

  “Angel,” he corrected with a soft growl.

  She frowned. “What?”

  “My name is Angel.”

  Her gaze swept over his face, a faint blush of arousal touching her cheeks even as she sent him a taunting smile.

  “Did you give yourself that nickname?” she demanded.

  “No.” He hid his amusement at her ridiculous attempt to pretend indifference. Who did she think she was fooling? The air sizzled between them. Heat. Desire. Hunger. She was being consumed by the merciless awareness that burned between them. “The day I was born my mother took one look at me and announced I was as beautiful as an Angel.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Yeesh.”

  He shrugged. “You asked.”

  “I thought it was ridiculous my mother named me Tuesday because that’s the day she had me.”

  He stilled, suspicion making his hands clench. “I thought you said your name was Indy?”

  “My mother called me Tuesday. After she sold me, I was taken to the clinic and my captors called me Patient F.” She gave a defiant toss of her head, the courage it’d taken to survive her harsh life etched on her face. “When I finally escaped I named myself Independence. It was Caleb who shortened it to Indy.”

  Angel released his breath on a low hiss. God. Damn. This woman was…special.

  Sensing her pride would rebel at any hint of sympathy, he instead concentrated on the men who’d hurt her.

  He had every intention of destroying them.

  “Tell me more about the lab.”

  She stepped toward the cage, the scent of wildflowers spicing the air.

  “I’ll answer any questions you have after you do something for me.”

  Ah. So at last they came to the reason she’d taken the extreme risk of capturing him.

  About damned time.

  “What?”

  She licked her lips, looking astonishingly young and vulnerable despite the biker outfit.

  “Six months ago I got a lead on the Haymore Center,” she said, her voice strained. “We hoped we could track down one of Karen’s sons.”

  Angel studied Indy’s tense features. She was afraid. But not for herself.

  “I’m assuming they weren’t here?”

  “No.” Her gaze darted toward the door before returning to meet his unreadable expression. “I did, however, manage to sneak out a young girl we named Willa.”

  Angel felt a stab of surprise. They’d searched the center before it’d burned to the ground. Had she gotten the child out before they arrived?

  “She was in the lab?” he demanded.

  Indy shook her head. “Actually we found her in an annex two blocks from the center.”

  He barely resisted the urge to pull out the cellphone that was strapped to his ankle along with a lethal dagger. Whoever had frisked him before tossing him in the cage had done a piss-poor job. They’d found and disposed of the phone he used when he was dealing with hospital business, but failed to continue the search. Sloppy. When he had Indy in the Wildlands, he would teach her how to do a thorough frisk. A slow, delectable frisk that would end when they were both naked and he was buried deep inside her.

  “Parish is going to have a shit fit when he realizes we overlooked an annex,” he growled.

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing to overlook. It burnt to the ground last week.”

  Of course it did.

  Locke was nothing if not brutally methodical in covering his tracks.

  His lips flattened as he felt a burst of impatience to be out of the cage.

  “You still haven’t told me why you’re holding me like I’m an animal.”

  She bit her bottom lip, something that might have been regret darkening her stunning blue eyes.

  “I need you to save Willa.”

  “You said you rescued her.”

  “I did. But now she’s sick. Unless you can help her I’m afraid—”

  Her words trailed away and Angel realized she was afraid the little girl was going to die.

  Abruptly Angel was all business.

  He was a Healer. It didn’t matter if his patient was Pantera, human or some strange mixture in between.

  “Take me to her,” he commanded.

  Reaching into the pocket of her jacket, she pulled out a small dart gun and pointed it at the center of his heart.

  “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Indy knew that the Pantera walking at her side was furious.

  Not only was the air sizzling with the heat of his cat, but his obscenely beautiful face was tight with an expression that warned of retribution.

  Still, what choice did she have?

  He seemed to believe her claim that she was as much a victim of Locke as his precious Pantera, but for all she knew it was nothing more than an act to make her lower her guard. She had to assume he was going to do everything in his power to escape.

  Right?

  Unfortunately, Angel wasn’t impressed by her need for caution. His accusing eyes had never wavered from her face as she’d carefully unlocked the door and moved to shove the gun into his side.

  In tense silence they’d left the locker room, stepping over the rubble that littered the hallway. The entire building was a deathtrap, but until Willa was better she couldn’t risk dragging her to New York.

  Urging him into the nurse’s office, she pressed the dart gun even harder into his side.

  “Remember, if you try anything I’ll zap you,” she warned in low tones.

  Turning his head he regarded her with eyes that held the golden power of his cat.

  Angry. Ruthless. And unnervingly patient.

  A predator willing to wait for the kill.

  “I won’t forget, honey.” He bent his head to whisper directly into her ear. “Not a damned thing.”

  She didn’t even bother trying to hide her shiver of unease. Or was it arousal?

  More than likely it was a toxic combination of both.

  “Willa is across the room,” she muttered.

  Slowly he lifted his head, his hair shimmering with the purity of platinum. Sucking in a deep breath, he used his heightened senses to sort through the various scents.

  He made a sound of shock as he jerked his head to the side, studying her with an accusing glare.

  “She smells like Pantera.”

  “I know,” she swiftly agreed. “But she’s human.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She gave a firm nod. Over the years she’d become an expert at being able to detect the subtle differences between a born Pantera and one that’d been created by transfusions or insemination.

  Tarin called it her ‘super-power.’

  “Yes.”

  There was a faint rustle of cotton sheets, before the soft sound of a young girl’s voice was floating across the room.

  “Indy?”

  Keeping a wary eye on Angel, she crossed the room, half expecting him to bolt. Instead, he moved to the bed with long, confident strides.

  Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Indy allowed herself to glance down at the tiny girl who barely made a bump beneath the thin blanket.

  Her heart squeezed with fear at the sight of the too-pale face and the overly bright eyes. God almighty. This beautiful child was slipping away and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do to help her…

  No. Wait. That wasn’t true.

  She’d done the one and only thing in her po
wer to save this precious soul.

  “Hey, kitten,” she murmured, reaching to tap Willa on the tip of her nose. “I brought someone to see you.”

  Her eyes widened with excitement, although she was too weak to lift her head off the pillow.

  “Who?”

  “Angel,” the Pantera murmured, taking the last step so he was in Willa’s line of vision.

  Willa blinked in wonderment, openly enchanted by the male’s splendid beauty.

  “You’re an angel?” she breathed.

  The Pantera’s lips twitched. “Something like that.”

  Indy snorted, wondering if there was any woman immune to the male.

  Ignoring the dart gun that Indy kept pressed against his side, Angel leaned over the edge of the bed, his expression oddly gentle.

  “May I touch you?”

  Willa cringed back. No one knew precisely what the poor child had endured in the Haymore Center, but the memories were enough to make her wake up screaming in fear.

  “Will it hurt?” she asked.

  Heat blasted through the air as Angel realized that Willa had been tortured, but his expression never changed.

  “No, little one,” he promised, his voice husky. “I swear it won’t hurt.”

  “It’s okay, Willa,” Indy assured the girl.

  Willa gave a slow nod. “’Kay.”

  Taking care not to press against her fragile body, Angel ran his fingers over her arms and down her legs before he concentrated on her torso.

  Indy kept a careful watch on him, not entirely sure what he was doing. She’d heard the Pantera healers had a mystic talent, but she didn’t know how it worked. Hell, she wasn’t even certain it could help a child who was human.

  Angel’s expression was distracted as his hands moved to brush over her cheeks.

  “Do you hurt anywhere?”

  “Sometimes my head hurts. And—” Willa’s words broke off as she glanced toward Indy.

  “You can tell him,” Indy urged.

  Willa instinctively tugged the blanket up to her nose. The little girl had learned to protect herself from the open derision when she confessed the truth.

  “There’s something inside me,” she whispered.

  Angel leaned forward, his dark eyes glowing with a golden light.

  “Inside?”

  “It’s a voice, but not a voice,” Willa reluctantly admitted. “It shows me pictures.”