Wicked Bite

  Didn’t mean he had to mate a witch. His stomach ached in the center. He sighed. Maybe he’d messed himself up too badly with that dragon shift and was gonna die anyway. But he’d saved Simone, so what the hell. “What about you? Who’s the woman?”

  “I’ve just been playing around. Nothing serious,” Lucas said, finishing his beer.

  “I thought you said—”

  Lucas reached for another beer in the fridge. “Was just messing with you. I am nowhere near ready to settle down with one woman.” He shuddered. “Forever.” Then he paused and gestured toward the screen. “The boys have caught a scent.” He grinned. “That’s why we’re still here, right? We want to watch those boys in action.”

  “Exactly.” Bear wanted to see how Kayrs and Kyllwood would handle things. See if he could trust them to stay alive in the Seattle underground. He took another drink of his beer, his gaze on the screen.

  The bounty hunters were moving smoothly between trees, navigating through the snow and barely leaving any trace of their presence.

  Garrett and Logan circled around them, moving as gracefully as any shifters. Not a branch stirred.

  “They move well together,” Lucas mused.

  Yeah, they did. “They also move like they’ve been hunting prey for centuries,” Bear noted. They hadn’t.

  “They’ve seen some shit, Bear.”

  True. The boys zeroed in from different directions, still somehow in sync. “I like that they’re not playing around,” Bear said.

  Lucas nodded. “All business. Even with something simple like this. Sometimes it takes centuries to learn that.”

  Bear leaned forward. “It’s as if they’re hearing the same beat. Watch their footsteps.”

  “They probably train together daily,” Lucas said. “What was the story about their getting in trouble on vacation?”

  “Something about too many girls,” Bear muttered. “They were being stupid kids, and the king yanked them home and put them here. To give them direction.”

  Lucas set down his bottle. “The king wants to keep tabs on us. On everyone.”

  “He is a busybody.” Bear didn’t care. He kinda liked the kids. His heartbeat picked up. “They’re about to make a move.”

  “Yeah.” Lucas kicked back in his chair.

  The boys attacked at the same time, each taking a bounty hunter. The hunters fought fast and hard, showing impressive training. Some of the punches were too fast to see clearly. Fire danced down Redmond’s arms, and he threw plasma at the boys. They ducked and dodged, hustling in to punch. The other hunter also threw fire, but he lacked Redmond’s speed. The fight continued, bloody and precise.

  In the end, Garrett and Logan stood over two unconscious witches. Each boy hefted a body over his shoulder and stomped to the edge of the territory, throwing the witches across the road.

  Garrett, blood pouring from a cut above his right eye, turned and saluted the camera.

  “Smart-ass.” Bear grinned.

  Approval curved Lucas’s smile. “I guess we don’t need to worry about them in Seattle.”

  “No. I’d say not. Track down all the information you can on Slam downtown and that bartender. As soon as we have decent intel, we’ll send in the boys.” Bear finished his beer. The scent of roses still tempted him. “I think I’ll go see how Nessa is doing in the office.”

  Lucas didn’t even try to hide his grin. “Whipped.”

  Bear flipped him the finger and strode through the war room to the storage room. His vision narrowed. He kept going, trying to appear nonchalant to the prospects already cleaning up the rec room. Nobody stopped him.

  He stepped outside, and the freezing snow slapped him in the face. His knees went weak.

  Damn it. He had to get himself under control. Why wasn’t he staying healed? He didn’t want Nessa to see him like this. Not again. Biting his lip, he turned into the second garage and staggered up the steps like an old man, finally reaching one of the small rooms they kept for anyone who wanted to crash. He shut the door and dropped to the bed. Just a small rest, and he’d go find Nessa.

  With that last thought, he passed out.

  Chapter 15

  Nessa sneezed for the seventh time but kept organizing papers into neat piles. Payables. Receivables. Correspondence. Within an hour, she’d created file folders for each and set up a system in the file cabinet, after she’d taken several engine parts out of the various drawers. Apparently, Bear had a pretty good business going.

  The shifters worked on just about anything with an engine or motor, and they seemed to have a consistent clientele.

  Another hour later and she’d set the entire office to rights. Even the desk drawers contained neatly organized supplies.

  She angled her head and looked outside. Club members had come and gone, several giving her a wave. The sense of belonging was foreign, and she tried to pretend it was real. Oh, her uncle was more than enough family for anybody, but she’d missed having siblings. With her work, she didn’t have close friends.

  The Grizzlies seemed like family.

  It was funny, because Bear was such a loner. Yet he’d created this family in a safe place for himself. But he’d still shifted from bear to human form in the last few months, and it seemed nobody around here knew about that. What kind of a secret was he keeping?

  She sat at a surprisingly new computer and booted it up. If she had time, she wanted to digitalize all of Bear’s records. There was no need for so much dusty paper.

  But for now, she had a job to do. She backtracked through the Internet to a secure site and then put in several of her codes. Soon there was a beep, and Jasper came into view. He had a black eye, a broken nose, and a fat lip. Static came across the line, and she tapped the monitor. “Jasper?” she gasped.

  “I’ve been trying to get you,” he said, wheezing.

  What in the world? Jasper was one of the best-trained members of the Guard. “Are you all right? Were we attacked?” She partially stood.

  His eyes were hangdog. “Where’s your phone, damn it?”

  She took out her phone and shook it. “Dead.” Bloody hell. She’d been too busy having sex with Bear to remember to charge it. “I’ve been a bit busy. What happened, and do you need me?”

  He winced. “I’m sorry, Nessa. I really am.”

  Her lungs seized, and her breath stopped. “What?” she whispered.

  “Your uncle. We were having dinner at his place—”

  “What?” She stood upright. “Where is he? What happened?” God, she had to get home.

  Jasper held up a hand. “I don’t know. We were at dinner, and a force of ten just showed up. I have the entire Guard searching for him. It’s our top priority.”

  She gulped, and tears filled her eyes. Okay. She could handle this. “He was taken?”

  “Aye.”

  All right. Boondock Lansa had more money, knowledge, and secrets than anybody else in the witch world. There were a multitude of people who might have taken him. “Has there been contact?”

  “No,” Jasper said.

  So no ransom. As of yet, anyway. “Send me your report,” she said. Jasper would’ve immediately written a report after the altercation.

  “I will. I was knocked out for several hours,” Jasper said, pain in his eyes.

  Translation: Boondock could be anywhere.

  Nessa’s shoulders shook. “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. “Just bruised.”

  Good. Time to think. “We’ve handled kidnappings before.” She kept her voice strong and her gaze as direct as the tears would allow. “This is just another one. Keep on top of everything, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Jasper nodded. “You need to check all your e-mail accounts. See if there’s a ransom demand or if he somehow got word to you.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “And charge your damn phone.”

  She clicked off before she started bawling like a frightened baby. The blank screen stared bac
k at her. Okay. She needed to get busy. She opened up her accounts and booked a plane ticket under one of her aliases, one of the names that even her uncle didn’t know. He was the one who’d taught her to create identities that nobody else in the world knew.

  He had to be okay.

  She flashed back to when he’d taught her how to grapple and choke out an opponent without messing her hair. God, he was funny. Sweet and kind and strong—and he’d raised her by himself. He’d taught himself how to braid hair and paint nails and cook. For her.

  She’d find him. He’d be okay. Hunching over the keyboard, she began checking her several e-mail accounts. There was nothing interesting until she reached her more public account. That one held about three hundred e-mails, but the one at the top caught her eye. The subject line: Uncle Boondock.

  Her stomach dropped. She sat back down. Her hands shook, but she reached for the mouse and clicked open the message.

  A video was embedded in the e-mail, and she hit the play button.

  She gasped.

  Her uncle sat tied to a chair, his face a bloody mess, his blue eyes furious. An old rag was stuffed in his mouth, and it looked like his hands were tied behind his back. Somebody kicked his chair, and he fell over.

  Nessa cried out.

  The camera shuffled, and a man crouched down.

  Bloody hell. Nessa glared into the face of George Flanders. The witch was several hundred years old, but didn’t look more than thirty, with dark brown hair and deceptively placid green eyes. His face was angled, his nose crooked, and his mouth full. To most women, he was handsome. To her, he was a dangerous pain in the ass.

  “I’ve underestimated you,” she whispered to the monitor.

  He pushed a button on the camera. “I hope by the time you see this that I haven’t just killed this old bastard for fun.” He turned toward a ruckus offscreen. “He is making it far too tempting to slice off his blustering head.”

  Rage lanced through Nessa, and she struggled to sit still. Oh, she was going to kill him. Dead.

  George focused back on the camera. “Nessa? My sources tell me you’re in Washington State. That’s rather convenient, since your uncle and I will be in Los Angeles by tomorrow night. I need to check on some of my businesses.”

  Like that impressed her.

  “I’m sorry it has come to this, but you just won’t listen to reason. So be in Los Angeles tomorrow night at 9:00 P.M. I will send a message to this e-mail address with directions for you once you’re in in LA. We shall mate, as is our destiny, and you will get your jerk of an uncle back. If you don’t show, I’m cutting off his head.”

  Nessa slapped a hand on the battered desk.

  “And come alone. If you have anybody with you, especially the Guard, then I kill Uncle.” George smiled. “Part of me hopes you don’t show, by the way.”

  The video stopped.

  Her hands shook, but she dialed up Jasper.

  “Did you have contact?” he asked without preamble.

  “Aye. Send me everything you have on George Flanders, and especially anything about his California interests.” She didn’t trust that LA would be her final destination, but it was a start.

  “Does Flanders have Boondock?” Jasper asked, leaning forward.

  “Affirmative.” She needed to schedule her flight to Los Angeles.

  Jasper quickly started typing. “I can be in LA by tonight and will bring forces.”

  “No,” Nessa said sharply. “George will kill Boon if the Guard shows up.”

  Jasper paused, his gaze narrowing. “You’re no longer a field operative, Nessa. You haven’t been for a long time.”

  “Yet here I am in the field,” she shot back. “This is a one-operative mission, and I’m it. You know the meet won’t be in LA. He’s setting us up, and he wants to kill Boon.” She cleared her throat. “He may have a plane waiting to take me back to Dublin. Stay put until we know more.”

  Jasper lowered his chin, looking like the warrior cop he was. “Then I want full tactical gear on you. Got it?”

  “Affirmative.” She’d have to go shopping in LA.

  “Camera, too,” he snapped.

  “Right.” She stood, panic gripping her again. What was happening with her uncle right at that moment? “I have to go. I’ll be in touch when I set down in LA.” She disengaged the call.

  Her head hurt, and her stomach felt hollow. Okay. She had to go, and now. Sucking in air, she hustled out of the office and ran through the snow and down the narrow trail. The jog helped to clear her mind, and her limbs were just loosening up when she reached the cabin steps.

  She shoved open the door and went for her luggage, quickly repacking a small bag. Then she paused.

  The cabin smelled like Bear. All musky male. Her gaze dropped to the bed, and her stomach tingled. He might try to stop her, so she couldn’t tell him she was leaving. Should she leave a note?

  And say what?

  That was silly. Shaking off regrets, she quickly pulled her phone out and plugged it in to an outlet. After a frustrating call with a taxi service, she finally got a driver to agree to meet her at the end of the private drive.

  Now, all she had to do was get there.

  * * *

  Bear stretched awake, feeling mildly better. He shoved himself off the saggy cot and lumbered down the stairs to the garage, his joints aching again. Maybe Nessa would take time to heal him a little.

  He was getting the uneasy feeling that her healing only lasted for a short time, like how an aspirin soothed a headache but didn’t fix the underlying cause.

  The wind slapped against the garage door, and he looked around for his jacket. Where had he left it?

  Oh well. It was time to check on Nessa, anyway. He pushed outside just in time to see a flash of pink down the private drive. What the hell? He focused his eyes, trying to peer through the storm. Yep. It was Nessa. She was struggling through the wind, her shoulders hunched, a bag over her arm.

  She was leaving him?

  A bomb slammed into his gut and exploded. The woman was deserting him without even a good-bye? Had their night together meant that little?

  Fury swept over him. Where was she walking in the storm?

  He ducked his head and moved into a run, his head reeling and his lungs burning. Pain grabbed his ankles and held on, but he shoved it away, ignoring everything but the anger propelling him.

  She must’ve heard him coming, because she whirled around, her wild hair flying in the snow. Her mouth dropped open.

  He reached her and looked beyond her to see a taxi waiting at the end of the Grizzly private road. A growl ripped from his chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Her chin snapped up. “I have to be somewhere.” Then she turned on her stylish and snow-covered boot.

  He grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Excuse me?” Steam poured out on his breath.

  Her blue eyes glittered. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t time for this. I’ll call you when I can.”

  There was hurt behind his anger, and that pissed him off even more. “You’re not going anywhere,” he bellowed over the storm.

  She drew in air. “I donna’ want to fight you.” In her pretty pink suit with her little boots, she looked as dangerous as a baby rabbit he’d once had for a pet. “But I will. Just back off, Bear.”

  How could she leave like this? He yanked her bag off her arm and stomped toward the taxi. She followed, but his stride was much longer.

  The taxi driver rolled down his window.

  Bear flashed his canines. “Go. Now.”

  The driver’s dark eyes widened, and he jerked the cab into gear. Without rolling up his window, he sped off, sliding on the icy road.

  “Damn it, Bear,” Nessa yelled, throwing up her hands.

  He turned on her.

  She took a step back.

  “Too late, baby,” he snapped. “Now explain yourself.”

  Fury rippled red across her high cheekbones to match her pink nose. “
I have to go.” Desperation lit her words and gave him pause.

  “Why?” he thundered.

  She looked down the very empty main road, and her shoulders slumped. “George has my uncle. He’ll kill Boon if I don’t show up in LA by tomorrow night.”

  Bear’s temper cooled. Slightly. “You’re being blackmailed?”

  “Aye.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He gestured toward the snowy road. “Why just leave?”

  “I didn’t think you’d let me go,” she mumbled, her face pale in the snowy day.

  He sighed. “Does this kind of thing happen often?” Damn witches.

  She shrugged. “Often enough.”

  His leg tingled. So she was throwing herself into danger to save her uncle—and she still lacked the ability to create fire. Oh, she could fight, but size mattered, and she didn’t have it. At some point, some asshole with a dart was going to hit her, and she’d be gone. He couldn’t let that happen. “Is it possible that your healing attempts are temporary? I mean, on me?”

  “I donna’ know,” she said. “It’s possible. You really harmed yourself.”

  He looked down the now vacant road to the city. His mind spun. His only chance for survival might hinge on actually mating her—which was what she’d wanted from the beginning. “You want the ability to throw fire so you can defend yourself.”

  “So I can fight.” She nodded, looking incredibly delicate standing in the angry snowstorm. “I could really use it.”

  His chest heaved. Oh, this was crazy. “If you’re mated to me, then George Flanders has no reason to keep your uncle.” That didn’t mean Flanders wouldn’t harm Boondock, but the bounty for Nessa’s kidnapping would cease to exist. This was beyond insane. Nothing in Bear wanted Nessa to mate his brother. He didn’t want to examine why, but he wasn’t that clueless. He wanted her for himself. At least for now. “Do you still want to mate me?”

  Snow fell on her pert nose, but she ignored it. “Aye.” She faltered, sticking her hands in her jacket pockets. “With conditions.”

  The animal in him rose up, quickly pushing logic aside. “No conditions.” The blood pounded through his veins. She needed fire, and he needed to heal completely. Matings for convenience had been part of their cultures for centuries. But this was more. Her scent. Her mind. Her spirit. She called to him, and he was tired of denying it. “The only thing I agree to is a mating. Right now.” The rest he’d figure out later.