Buried and Shadowed

  “Get the dogs,” he at last snapped. “I want four separate search parties.” He lifted his hand to point toward each corner of the office. “North. South. East. West.”

  The soldier gave a nod, eager to be away from his furious commander.

  “I’ll get it arranged at once.”

  “Don’t come back without her,” Donaldson warned in dark tones.

  The soldier saluted, backing out of the room and closing the door with a firm snap. Markham’s lips twitched as he heard the sound of footsteps scurrying down the hall.

  Markham might not be intimidated by Donaldson’s bluster, but obviously, the Colonel’s small army was easily bullied.

  “Dammit.” Donaldson whirled on his heel, slamming his fist into the open palm of his other hand. “If she’s with one of the animals, we’ll never find her.”

  Markham stiffened. He’d just assumed that Mira had discovered whatever she was looking for on the SAU’s private network and done her vanishing act.

  Now he studied his companion with a deep frown.

  “What makes you think she didn’t do this on her own?”

  The Colonel flashed a patronizing smile that made Markham want to pull the Glock he had strapped to his ankle. Then, the pompous fool strolled across the office to open the window.

  “I assume that she destroyed the computers and security system, she’s the expert, after all,” he drawled. “But there’s no way she did this.”

  Reluctantly Markham crossed to study the gouges that had been dug into the windowsill.

  Claw marks.

  Biting back a curse, Markham forced himself to turn back to study the office. Shit. He should have done a more thorough inspection of the office the minute he’d realized that the computer woman was gone.

  Now he had to act as if Donaldson hadn’t managed to outwit him.

  “There’s no sign that she was forced to leave,” he said.

  “No,” Donaldson agreed, slamming the window shut. “I would say Mira Reese has been playing us for fools. She’s obviously working with the shifters. They wanted the use of our computers, so she let herself be taken.” He paced to the center of the over-priced, hand-woven rug. “Which means she got what she wanted and called in one of the animals to get her out.”

  Markham scowled. How could anyone choose one of those freaks over her own people? He’d heard that some humans even took the animals as lovers.

  Sick.

  Of course, if she did have a lover…

  Markham abruptly reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, tapping the password onto the screen.

  “I never did trust her,” he said.

  Donaldson pivoted on his heel, his lips twisted in a humorless smile.

  “That’s not what you were saying less than an hour ago.”

  Markham held up his phone. “Do you need proof?”

  Donaldson folded his arms over his chest. “Astonish me with your brilliance.”

  Markham once again thought longingly of his Glock. At the Division headquarters, he was treated with respect that bordered on reverence. His companion, however, was roughly on the same level as he was when it came to the SAU hierarchy. Which meant Markham couldn’t demand the deference he so richly deserved.

  Dammit.

  “After we brought the woman here, I called a security team in Fort Collins to install a camera in case someone decided to come searching for her,” he said, thoroughly enjoying Donaldson’s brief spurt of annoyance before he was smoothing his expression.

  “Can you access the tapes?”

  “Of course.” With a few taps on the screen, Markham was rewinding the images. “Your technology might be easily compromised, but mine is far more dependable.”

  Donaldson said a foul curse. “Jesus, you’re annoying.”

  Markham didn’t bother to hide his satisfied smile, quickly skimming until he was at the beginning of the tape. The camera had been hidden in a tree in the front yard, giving a perfect view of the house, along with the driveway.

  He paused as a woman appeared from the brick house next door, holding a cat.

  “The neighbor,” he said as the woman used a key to enter the house and then left ten minutes later.

  “Doubtful that she’s the animal that helped Mira escape from here,” Donaldson said.

  Markham agreed. A woman didn’t risk her life for a neighbor, no matter how friendly they might be.

  She did it for someone who satisfied her in bed.

  He fast-forwarded, abruptly slowing the images as a truck pulled into the driveway, and an unknown man climbed out.

  “There.”

  “Damn, we can’t see his face,” Donaldson said. “Can you zoom in on the license plate?”

  Markham scowled, oddly convinced that there was something familiar about the set of the man’s shoulders, and the way he moved. But unless he turned, it would be impossible for him to place whom it might be.

  Dismissing the odd sensation that he might be acquainted with the stranger, he halted the video. Then, sweeping his finger over the screen, he managed to enlarge the image.

  “Got it. I’ll send this to my division.” Taking a screenshot of the license plate, he quickly had it emailed to his head of security. “They can start a search for the truck as well as contact the cops to put out a BOLO.”

  Once again put in the position of follower, not leader, Donaldson squared his shoulders.

  “Okay.” His expression was condescending. “It’s a decent backup plan if my men don’t find her first.”

  Markham released a sharp laugh. “Accept defeat, Donaldson,” he urged the older man. “You and your soldiers let the woman slip from beneath your noses. Now it will be up to me to save your ass.” He pocketed his phone, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s hope Colonel Ranney doesn’t learn of your slip-up before we can get her back.”

  Donaldson jerked at the unmistakable warning. No one wanted to be on the wrong side of the SAU’s founder. Not unless they wanted to end up in an unmarked grave.

  “Bastard,” the military man hissed.

  ****

  Mira was doing her best to ignore Sinclair’s brooding gaze. This wasn’t the first time they’d been in a small motel room together.

  This wasn’t even the worst motel room. In an effort to avoid detection, Sinclair had often set up meetings in places that were barely fit for bedbugs. This room was at least clean with comfortable furniture.

  Including a soft, inviting bed.

  She gave a sharp shake of her head. Nothing has changed, she fiercely reminded herself.

  Okay, Sinclair had actually gone to the effort of tracking her down. And he’d been possessively protective as he’d carried her away from the air base.

  But she would be a fool to let herself think this was anything more than a desire to guard a valuable asset.

  “So now you understand why I need to get to the Great Plains Home of Tranquility.”

  His expression was guarded. “I understand that someone needs to go. But not you.”

  She stiffened. “You don’t trust me?”

  Some ephemeral emotion flared through the ice-blue of his eyes. “With my life.”

  The words rasped against the wound he’d inflicted when he’d believed she could have betrayed him.

  “You were quick enough to accuse me of working with the enemy.”

  He grimaced. “I’m sorry, Mira. More sorry than you could possibly imagine,” he breathed.

  Mira abruptly turned away. There was something unnerving about the raw regret that softened his features.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said.

  “It does.” He moved until he was standing in front of her. Then, when she kept her gaze lowered, he gently cupped her chin in his hand and tilted back her head. “Look at me, sweetheart.” He patiently waited until she grudgingly lifted her eyes to meet his steady gaze. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never.”

  Her lips twisted. “I know what you mea
nt to do.”

  He arched a dark brow. “Really?”

  “Of course. I might be naive, but I’m not stupid,” she assured him. “I always knew that you were using me.”

  His thumb lightly traced the curve of her lower lip. “Then you know more than I do,” he said.

  Sparks of excitement raced through Mira, his mere touch enough to make her heart race and her palms sweat.

  He was just so freaking gorgeous. And sexy.

  And male.

  Ruthlessly, deliciously male.

  With an effort, she forced herself to not to melt into a willing puddle at his feet.

  “Are you trying to say that you didn’t seek me out because of my position with the CDC?”

  He paused, no doubt carefully considering his words. Although she didn’t know why he would bother. She sensed their relationship—no, it’d never been a relationship—or whatever it was, was about to come to an end.

  There was no need to treat her as if he cared about her feelings.

  “That was my initial reason, but we both know that my interest became far more personal.”

  “Don’t,” she rasped. “Please, don’t lie.”

  He scowled. “I’m not.”

  “You’ve never seen me as anything more than a tool in your plans for revenge.”

  He shook his head in denial of her accusation.

  “Mira, if you were just a tool, then why did I meet with you so often?” he demanded. “I could have asked for your help and waited for you to contact me.”

  Anger sizzled through her. Why couldn’t he just admit the truth?

  “You were well aware the reason I was assisting you was because I was half in love with you,” she snapped. “You had to keep me infatuated, or you took the chance of me deciding it wasn’t worth the risk to help you.”

  His fingers brushed along the tight line of her jaw. “Only half in love?” he teased.

  She jerked back her head. Dammit. It wasn’t fair that his mere touch was enough to make her body clench with an aching hunger.

  “This isn’t funny,” she said between gritted teeth.

  He released a deep sigh, slowly lowering his hand. “No. It’s ironic.”

  She tilted her chin. “What’s ironic about it?”

  “I thought I was fooling you, when I was really fooling myself.”

  Mira frowned, studying him with a wary gaze. “Is that supposed to make sense?”

  “Not really.” He scrubbed his hands over his face before he nodded toward the nearby bed. “Can we sit?” He waited for her to move. When she stubbornly refused to budge, he at last pulled out the P word. “Please, Mira.”

  “Fine,” she said, spinning on her heel to cross the short distance so she could perch on the edge of the mattress.

  He was swiftly moving to settle next to her, the heat of his leg pressing against her thigh.

  “Thank you,” he said, reaching to grab her hand.

  “Sinclair,” she protested, making a half-hearted attempt to free herself from his grip.

  Not surprisingly, he tightened his hold. Stubborn wolf.

  “You’re right. I did seek you out because of your computer skills, and because you worked for the CDC,” he said, his voice low and husky.

  Perfectly designed to make a woman think of dark nights and hot sex.

  “Are you trying to make me feel better?” she complained, inwardly chastising herself. When the hell was she going to get over her pathetic yearning for this man? “If so, you suck at it.”

  “I’m not finished. But you’re right, I do suck at it.” He lifted her hand to press her knuckles against his lips. “I’m not used to explaining myself.”

  Breathe, Mira, just breathe.

  “Because you’re an Alpha?” Thankfully, her words didn’t come out as a croak.

  Another lingering kiss landed on her knuckles before he was lowering her hand to his lap, his expression somber.

  “Because I spent almost ten years of my life locked in a cage the size of a dog kennel.”

  It took Mira a full minute to accept that the stark words weren’t some horrible joke.

  Finally, her eyes widened, her stomach clenching with a sick sense of disbelief.

  “The SAU?”

  He shook his head. “My neighbor.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes darkened, and Mira suddenly realized she was catching a glimpse of the wounded wolf deep inside him.

  “My parents suspected that the containment centers the SAU were creating for the supposed safety of the shifters would eventually become prisons,” his voice was laced with sadness. “Unfortunately, before they could organize a safe place for us to disappear, the soldiers were knocking at our door.”

  It was an all-too-familiar story. Although Mira had been a mere babe when the Verona Virus had swept around the world, she’d heard rumors of the mass roundups of shifters and even the violent clashes that had led to thousands of unnecessary deaths.

  “How old were you?”

  “Five.”

  Her mouth dropped open, her brain struggling to take in the knowledge that anyone could be twisted enough to lock a five-year-old child in a dog’s kennel.

  “What happened?”

  His expression was tight, the air prickling with the power of his inner animal.

  “My parents lowered me out a bathroom window and told me to run. I had just gotten through the back fence when the neighbor caught me.” Sinclair’s lips twisted. “He promised he would keep me safe.”

  She squeezed his fingers, instinctively pressing closer to his side. Sinclair could be harsh, impatient, sexy, and occasionally charming. But he carried with him an air of aloofness. As if nothing could truly reach him.

  Now she was beginning to understand the reason he so rigidly protected himself from the world.

  “What did he do to you?” she said, urging him to continue his story. As awful as it was, it explained so much about this complicated male.

  “He used me as a new source of income.”

  The air was squeezed from her lungs. “Income?”

  “He would take me to underground parties where people would pay to see me shift into a wolf.” His voice was laced with bitterness. “After all, most shifters were being hidden behind the walls of the compounds. It was a rare opportunity to treat one like a circus animal. An indulgence they were willing to pay a fortune to enjoy.”

  “God,” she breathed, leaning close enough to inhale the rich, musky scent of his skin. “I’m so sorry.”

  His face hardened, his expression grim. “I survived. And planned. I knew it was only a matter of time before I managed to escape.”

  “And you did,” she said.

  “On my fifteenth birthday.” His lips curled, revealing his fangs. Mira shivered. Not from fear, although this was the first time she’d seen him lose control of his human form. It was, instead, a renegade thrill of wonderment. This male was truly a survivor. “The bastard got careless when he opened the door to the cage. Before he could get the muzzle on me, I managed to get out and knock him off his feet.”

  “I hope you killed him,” she said.

  The darkness that was shrouded around Sinclair abruptly lightened as he smiled at her fierce words.

  “So bloodthirsty.” His gaze dropped to linger on her lips. “I like it.”

  Mira rolled her eyes. “Did you?” she pressed. She needed to know that monster wasn’t out in the world hurting other shifters.

  Sinclair snapped his fangs. “I ripped out his throat.”

  “Good,” she said. “He was even worse than the SAU. What kind of sicko torments a child to make a profit?”

  His smile faded. “I’ve stopped underestimating the depths of human depravity.”

  She grimaced, but she couldn’t accept that such evil existed everywhere. Yeah. She was an incurable optimist. But she needed to think there was also good in the world.

  “We’re not all bad,” she said.

  “No
. You taught me that.” He once again lifted her hand, turning it over so his lips could trace the fine veins beneath the skin of her inner wrist. “And not all shifters are good.”

  Tiny shivers raced through her. Oh…yum. Why the hell hadn’t he done this months ago? She’d been desperate to get him naked.

  It didn’t matter that he was only using her. Or that she might hate herself once it was over.

  She’d just wanted one night of glorious passion before she was dropped back into her boring life.

  Now it was all too late.

  “What did you do once you escaped?” she abruptly demanded.

  He held her gaze as he continued to stroke his lips over her sensitive skin.

  “For a while, I hid in the most remote sections of the Rocky Mountains I could find,” he said. “I just wanted to be alone.”

  “You didn’t seek out other shifters?”

  There was an unnerving watchfulness in his ice-blue eyes. Was it the wolf? Or the man.

  Perhaps a combination of both.

  “No, I was half feral, and I spent most of my time in my animal form,” he admitted. “Then one day I crossed paths with another wolf shifter who was being hunted by the local SAU. I took her into my hidden liar. I only intended to allow her to stay until the danger passed, but she refused to go. Even worse, she had a friend who tracked us down. The grizzly shifter was just as stubborn.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to reveal that she was jealous of the thought of him sharing his lair with another female.

  She didn’t have the right. She’d never had the right, even if she hoped that someday she could convince him that she could be more than just a means to an end.

  She gave a sharp shake of her head. “It was the start of the Unseen?”

  “Yes.” His shrug was rueful. “I agreed to become the Alpha and to put the members of my Pack first in my life. But, at heart, I’m still a loner.”

  I’m still a loner…

  The words sliced through her. It was, of course, what she’d always known deep inside. She just hadn’t wanted to accept it.

  “I get it,” she said, starting to rise from the bed. “I really do.”

  Without warning, he yanked her back down, his eyes narrowed with frustration.