“You’ll walk away and leave me?” she husked.
He flinched, deliberately misinterpreting her soft plea.
“You should be safe,” he assured her. “The master believes you’re dead and as long as you don’t deliberately draw attention to yourself there’s no reason for him to suspect you’re still alive.”
She wasn’t fooled.
She knew he was avoiding her question.
“This is what you want?” she insisted.
“This is what I want.” Framing her face in his hands, Stanton lowered his head to kiss her with a bittersweet longing he felt in his very soul.
“Stay,” she whispered against his lips, her hands grasping his shirt in a tight grip.
“Run from here, Chelsea,” he urged her, giving her one last kiss before he was pulling away. “Build a new life.”
“Locke—”
“Be happy,” he pleaded, turning to head out of the kitchen.
Not allowing himself to glance back, he halted only long enough to pay the guard an obscene amount of money to keep his mouth shut before he was climbing into his silver Jag and gunning the engine.
Soon New Orleans would be a speck in his rearview mirror and Chelsea would become a fond memory.
He repeated the words over and over as the city streets were replaced by the tangled greenery of the wetlands, not really surprised when they did nothing to ease the heaviness of his heart.
CHAPTER 7
Indy couldn’t deny a stab of surprise when Angel at last led her out of the private cottage into the Wildlands.
Okay, she hadn’t expected mud huts and treehouses, but it was all far more civilized than she’d expected.
First they’d headed to the state-of-the-art medical facility where Angel had run a dozen tests on her before she was surrounded by eager Pantera mates who’d pampered her with a hot bath and clean clothes.
Next he’d led her across the open space in the middle of the bayou to reveal the private headquarters of the Suits.
The elegant Colonial-style structure that was painted white with black shutters had an old-world feel to it that was only emphasized by the six fluted columns that held up the second-story balcony.
The inside, however, was buzzing with electric energy and high-tech security systems that would make Homeland Security shit a brick.
Trying to ignore the curious gazes that followed their path through the crowded public rooms, Indy inched closer to Angel. She’d never been surrounded by so many Pantera at once and it was unsettling.
Her nerves weren’t eased when they stepped into the private office of a large male with long, golden blond hair and jade green eyes.
The force of two alpha males in the same small place was enough to make her body feel as if it was being pressed between a rock and a very hard place.
The head of the Diplomats rose to his feet at their entrance, blatantly inspecting her as Angel urged her to the center of the room.
“So you’re the female who finally captured Angel,” he murmured.
Angel gave a sudden laugh, wrapping his arm around Indy’s shoulders.
“In more ways than one.”
Indy sent her mate a wry smile, recalling how she’d awoken handcuffed to the bed only hours ago.
“Actually, I’m not sure who caught who,” she said.
Angel pressed a swift kiss against her temple. “Let’s call it a mutual agreement.”
Raphael watched them with open satisfaction. “Did you complete your testing?” he asked of Angel.
“Yes,” Angel said. “I have a few preliminary results.”
Raphael folded his arms over his chest. “And?”
Angel’s arm tightened around her shoulder. Only days ago, Indy would have been furious at his possessive touch. Now she relished the knowledge that whatever happened, she would have this glorious male at her side.
“Specific parts of her DNA have been altered,” he admitted, the rough growl in his voice pure cat.
Raphael’s gaze slid in her direction. “Altered how?”
It was Angel who answered. “I don’t know. Which means our enemy has technology way beyond what we understand.”
Raphael grimaced. “Perfect.” He continued to study her with open concern. “Do you feel okay?”
“I do,” Indy told him. “No doubt better than I would if I’d remained a mere human.”
“She has increased strength and endurance, and if she’s anything like Tarin she’s probably immune to most human diseases,” Angel added.
Raphael’s brows snapped together, his lean body, currently attired in a pair of khakis and a cashmere sweater, rigid with his barely leashed emotions.
“Dammit,” he breathed.
“What’s wrong?” Angel demanded.
“We’re constantly a day late and a dollar short,” he snarled, his eyes glowing gold as his hunger for the blood of his enemies prickled in the air. “Tell me what you remember about the labs,” he snapped toward Indy.
Angel instantly moved to stand in front of her, his body clenched as he glared at his companion.
“Easy, Raphael,” he growled.
Realizing both males were on edge, Indy reached up to run a soothing hand down Angel’s back.
“It’s okay,” she assured her mate, keeping her hand on his lower back as she met Raphael’s smoldering gaze. The older male was worried about his people. She better than anyone understood his frustration. “We were divided into different groups. The Pantera were kept in the lower basements. I was never down there so I’m not entirely sure what happened to them.”
Raphael abruptly turned to walk across the room that was furnished with a simple but sturdy oak desk and leather chairs, with shelves overflowing with pictures of a pretty dark-haired woman and a newborn child.
“Obviously they had blood and semen taken from them,” he said.
“Yes,” Angel agreed. “And bone marrow.”
Raphael turned back, his expression bleak. “What else?”
Indy didn’t know exactly what he wanted to know, so she shared what she assumed was most pertinent.
“There were women used as breeders.”
“We’ve heard about them,” Raphael said. “They were using the Haymore Center as a fertility facility.”
Indy nodded. “Karen was one, but she was held prisoner in New York. I think there are several other labs scattered around.”
“So do I,” Raphael swiftly agreed. “Caleb is her son?”
“Yes, plus she has two others who we’ve been searching for,” Indy revealed, hoping her friend didn’t mind her sharing the information. If the Pantera went in search of the people responsible for taking them captive, it was possible they might be able to locate her missing sons. “She was never given Pantera blood,” she continued. “But she was artificially inseminated with their semen.”
Raphael nodded. “Willa must be an offspring created by a breeder.”
A growl rumbled deep in Angel’s chest. He was already deeply attached to the little girl.
“They’ve clearly improved their technique over the years,” he said.
Raphael nodded, his attention still locked on Indy. “And you?”
“I was a cavy,” she revealed without hesitation. She never apologized for being a victim. “We were all test rats used for different experiments.”
“You don’t know what they wanted from you?” the Pantera male pressed.
“No.” Indy shook her head. She’d sensed she was changing, but she’d never had a clue what the end result was supposed to be. “All I know for certain was that they took large vials of blood from me every day.”
Raphael’s expression tightened, clearly annoyed she couldn’t offer the answers he needed. But before he could try to demand more information about what had been done to her, Angel made a low sound of warning.
The older male clenched his jaw, but surprisingly he nodded his head in silent capitulation. Not that he was done questioning her.
>
“What about the people who were holding you?” He turned his attention to their mutual enemy. Which was just fine with Indy. “Do you know anything about them?”
She wrinkled her nose. She’d spent a lot of time investigating the bastards. Unfortunately, they had the sort of resources that made it almost impossible to penetrate their security.
“The guards were all well trained and well armed,” she shared.
Raphael narrowed his eyes. “Military?”
“I would guess they were military trained but after I managed to escape I couldn’t find any connection to the government.”
“They would make sure they kept it a secret.” The male’s lips twisted with disgust. “Even animals are supposed to be treated humanely.”
“True,” Indy murmured. It’d been her first thought as well, but so far she hadn’t discovered any link. “From all the information I could dig up, the labs appear to be owned by a private corporation.”
“Locke?” Raphael spit the name out like it was a curse.
“He’s the one listed on the paperwork.” Indy shrugged, searching for the words to express her vague suspicions. “But I sense there’s someone else lurking in the shadows.”
Indy felt an odd sense of pride as the leader of the Suits gave a brisk nod, accepting her words without question.
She’d half expected to be treated as an outsider, or even as one of the enemy. Instead they’d made her feel as if she was a part of the community.
“Can you lead us to the lab in New York?” Raphael asked.
She grimaced. She’d been expecting the question.
“I can, but it changes every few months,” she explained. “I doubt we’ll find anything but an abandoned building.”
There was a burst of heat as the two males glanced at one another. Clearly they’d hoped she could provide them with a starting place.
The tension in the air was abruptly interrupted as the door was thrust open and a tall stranger with a scarred face and dark hair stepped into the room.
Indy shivered. Christ. If two puma males were enough to make the room seem overly small, then three were enough to make it positively claustrophobic.
Seemingly unaware of thick heat that threatened to choke her, Raphael moved toward the intruder while Angel once again placed an arm around her shoulders, tugging her tight against his side.
“Yes?” Raphael demanded.
The stranger briefly studied Indy before turning his attention to the golden-haired male.
“There’s a human female who we caught trying to sneak into the Wildlands,” he said, his voice a deep growl.
Raphael swore beneath his breath. “Another reporter?”
The newest Pantera shook his head. “She says her name is Dr. Chelsea Young.” A lethal smile curved the male’s lips, emphasizing the scars on his lean face. “She claims she can tell us where to find Hiss.”
HISS
by
Laura Wright
CHAPTER 1
“Hiss?”
“I’m here,” he uttered, his eyelids heavy, his heart nearly dead. “Another nightmare?”
She exhaled softly. “They’re coming all the time.”
Despite the debilitating weakness that lived inside him now, Hiss forced himself from his cot and crawled over to the bars of the cage. Gia’s hand was already through the metal, waiting for him. It felt cold. But everything felt cold down here. It was truly where his soul was meant to dwell.
“Tell me,” he whispered, desperate for the sound of her voice again. It kept him sane. Though Goddess only knew, he didn’t deserve it.
She entwined her fingers with his the way she had every night for the past twenty-two days. He knew it’d been twenty-two because each night before he collapsed, he’d scraped another line into the brick wall of his cage with his fingernail.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he told her. “Ever.”
“My weakness, my fear. I hate it. This isn’t me, wasn’t ever me. I was a water Hunter. Fought an alligator for prey. I hate forcing you to listen to my…”
He gripped her hand so tightly she gasped. Then released it. “Tell me, Gia. Talk to me. Use me. None of us are what we were.”
She was quiet for a moment. He hated when she got quiet. It scared the fuck out of him. When a Pantera got quiet down here it meant they’d either been moved or had perished…sometimes in body, sometimes in mind.
“The dream, Gia,” he pushed, his voice a harsh whisper. Had to be a whisper. Always. Forget about touching—if they were caught talking, they’d be beaten, and then separated. Hiss had seen it happen more than once. Whoever was running this freak show, torture chamber and laboratory wanted no connections made, no emotions shared.
It’s why they’d stolen his mother from him the night he’d first come here. If she truly was his mother. He wasn’t certain. More than once he’d wondered if maybe it was a plant, a fabrication to fuck with him, make him feel mentally unstable. Or maybe it was his imagination. Maybe he was mentally unstable.
“When they come to get me, I go with them. I don’t fight.” Gia was talking, telling him her dream. Hiss closed his eyes, let his head fall back against the brick. “I just walk out of my cage and go with them.” She tried to move closer to him, tried to thread herself through the metal bars. He felt her shoulder press against his. “It’s the same room they always take me to, and I’m docile, you know? I don’t fight like I have for the past eight months. I’m hoping it changes how they treat me. I lie down, offer them my arms, wait for the bands—wait for the needles to be shoved into my veins. But they don’t do it. They don’t want my blood.”
His chest tight, Hiss waited for her to continue. He knew where this went. Knew her greatest fear.
“It’s not going to happen, Gia.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m not going to allow it.”
She turned to face him. There were no windows in the Sub. It’s what they called the lowest level of wherever they, and at least ten other Pantera, were being held. The Subterranean Level of Hell. Where they were being used. Drained. Infected. Poisoned. Experimented on. Injected. Impregnated. It was pitch black. He couldn’t see the outline of her body. But he felt her warm breath on his cheek. He turned to face her too.
“How many times were you bled today?” she asked.
“Only three.”
She laughed softly, bitterly. Careful to not let the sound carry. They didn’t want to wake up the others. Although it was common for the rest of the Pantera to lie awake.
“We can’t even summon our cats,” she said. “There’s no strength for either one of us to drawn on. We’re at their mercy.”
“You can draw strength from me, Gia,” he said. “Always.”
“Oh, Hiss…” She played with his fingers. Reveling in his touch, his comfort. His valiant words. Not knowing who he was—what he was. The traitor to his kind. A base-level beast. She didn’t know because she was from a different sect of Pantera, a secret community set somewhere in Florida, from what he’d been able to gather. She didn’t speak of it much. It seemed to pain her to remember. And there was nothing Hiss wanted less than to give her any more pain.
“Tell me something good,” she whispered. “Tell me a story. About your Wildlands.”
My Wildlands. Had they ever been his? He’d wanted them to be. Back when he’d been a cub, when he had a family, they were. And later when his family had disappeared, when the elders told him—lied to him—about their passing, he’d made some good memories. With friends. All while he plotted against them.
A buzzing started in his head. It came every time he thought about what he’d done. To himself. His family’s name. To all the innocent Pantera.
“Hiss?” Gia whispered, her tone desperate.
Yes. I’m here. “You speak of your water often,” he began. “But let me tell you of ours. There is a place in the bayou where the wa
ter is so warm and so fragrant it lulls you to sleep. It changes you from cat to male at whim. And you let it because you trust it. I would swim for hours in it, floating among the Dyesse lilies, so calm, so peaceful.”
“What are those? The Dyesse lilies?”
“They’re these large, white water lilies. They turn purple when they bloom. And they make our moon purple, too.”
“Really?” she exclaimed softly, and he could almost hear her smile. “Oh, how beautiful. I’d love to see that.”
His gut ached. Not from the hunger that constantly plagued him. But from the knowledge that he would never be able to take her there. He wasn’t welcome. And odds were that he wouldn’t be leaving the Sub alive anyway.
“The lilies have this incredible scent,” he continued. “We believe…” We. His nostrils flared. “They have magical properties that create absolute happiness within us, and a kind of sensual euphoria.”
“Oh.”
The word came out breathy, warm, and his lips twitched ever so slightly.
“Did you meet your females there?” she asked tentatively. “In the pool? Among the lilies? Under that purple moon?”
“I have no female, Gia.” I deserve no female. “Where you’re from, did you leave a male behind?” It was something he’d wanted to ask the first night they’d ‘met.’ The night she’d been drained of blood so badly, she was having trouble breathing and couldn’t move off the floor. He’d forced his arm through the bar to hold her hand. He’d stayed like that until dawn, everything from his shoulder down numb.
“Yes, I have a male,” she said.
Rarely did the cat inside Hiss attempt to emerge. After all, he was out of the Wildlands, devoid of magic. It wasn’t possible for his puma to be released. But hearing that Gia had been claimed by another had the beast clawing at the walls of his chest.
“His name?” Hiss asked in a harsh whisper. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know it—why he needed to know it.
“I call him Grandfather.”
It took only a moment to register, but when it did he felt her smile in the dark.