Page 7 of Shards of Hope


  Her stomach suddenly cramped again and this time, she couldn't control the nausea.

  Bending forward to throw up, she tasted blood.

  *

  ADEN helped Zaira up after her convulsive retching, shivers wracking her body so uncontrollably that it felt as if she'd shatter. Holding on to her more tightly, he used all his energy to help her move.

  "I'm going to lose consciousness soon," she said against his ear when he bent toward her. "I'll be dead weight."

  He'd carry her until he couldn't walk anymore. Because he would never again watch one of his people die without doing everything in his power to stop it. "Do you know how many Arrows I had to let go?" he asked her. "How many I couldn't assist, couldn't get out when they began to fracture?"

  "They understood, Aden. We all did." Her fingers clenched in his jacket, her left leg beginning to drag. "You were fighting for our survival and they died in battle." Harsh breaths. "Don't take that honor from them by using their deaths as a whip with which to punish yourself."

  His shin hit a rock hidden in the dark, the impact hard enough to bruise bone, but he kept going. "Stop talking. Conserve your strength."

  "And stop winning the argument?"

  If Aden had known how to smile, he thought he may have at that instant. Zaira's razor-sharp words told him she was still fighting. But he didn't know how to smile, his emotions crushed beneath the heavy weight of Arrow training until he wasn't sure they existed--but he wanted to find out.

  "Thank you," Zaira said unexpectedly the next time he bent toward her. "For not leaving me alone in the dark." A breath that didn't sound right. "For keeping your promise."

  You'll never be alone again. I will always be there for you.

  He'd made that promise to the suspicious, ferocious girl she'd been. Tonight, on this desolate landscape under an unfriendly sky, he made it again to the strong, determined, just as ferocious woman she'd become. "I will never leave you. No matter what."

  No answer.

  "Stay awake!" He shook her slightly, only breathed again when she made a protest. "Tell me about your first assignment."

  "I cocked it up." Her voice was sluggish and almost inaudible in the howling wind, but she was still breathing, still conscious. "I was sent in to retrieve evidence of a serial killer and I got caught in the room with him."

  "Since he ended up dead, I don't think you erred."

  "Everyone ends up dead around me. You should be careful."

  "You've kept those in the Venice compound alive and functional and they're some of our most fractured." He squeezed her when she didn't reply. "Zaira."

  " 'm awake," she mumbled as the rain suddenly slowed to a light drizzle then cut off altogether, almost as if they'd passed the line of demarcation of a heavy cloud bank. Aden knew the lull wasn't going to last, so he took the chance to scan the area, saw a large stand of trees not far in the distance. They appeared much more solid than the ones under which they'd previously taken shelter--and as far as he could see, none was in any danger of collapsing.

  If he and Zaira made it there, they could hunker down and he could try to figure out how to fix her injuries. Part of his brain tried to tell him it was too late, that he didn't have the equipment to fix the damage, but Aden wasn't about to give up. He would fight for her till the last beat of his heart and hers.

  "Aden, my mind wants to reach out."

  "Fight it." Another burst of pain could incapacitate her. "Think about the next dinner at Ivy and Vasic's house."

  "Do you think," she said between gasped breaths, "Ivy expected so many Arrows to take her up on her offer of an open door?"

  "Ivy is an empath. She likes people--she even likes Arrows."

  Zaira's body got heavier, but she continued to drag her feet forward. "I think I'm hallucinating."

  She sounded too lucid to be hallucinating. "What do you see?" He couldn't see anything of interest.

  "Giant paw prints in the mud."

  Stilling, he glanced toward the ground. He hadn't focused on it except to make sure they didn't run into anything, but Zaira's head had been hanging down. He lowered her into a seated position against a large rock and, wiping his hand over his face to rid it of the water dripping from the hood, took out the penlight.

  "You're not hallucinating. I can't be certain, but I think they're feline." And very fresh. The prints had to have been made since the rain stopped, and that couldn't have happened more than two minutes earlier.

  "What kind of cat has paws that big?"

  Using the penlight to trace the edge of the print, he saw the shape of claws, measured the size of the pad using his gloved hand as a comparison. "A changeling cat. One of the large predators. Tiger, leopard, jaguar."

  Zaira's body rocked with another wave of shivers, her teeth clattering together as she tried to form words. "A-a-r-re we--" Clenched teeth, clenched fists as she brought the shaking under control with icy strength of will. "Are we in the Sierra Nevada?"

  While the Sierra was SnowDancer wolf territory, the SnowDancers had some kind of a treaty with the DarkRiver leopards, so Zaira's question was a valid one. "We might be, but probability is low--the chopper would've never escaped SnowDancer notice."

  Everyone knew the wolves were very unwelcoming when it came to outsiders--"shoot first and ask questions of the corpses" was their rumored motto. "A small cabin, a small group--that could've flown under the radar in such a vast territory, but the chopper would've lit up their surveillance satellites and, bad weather or not, we'd be drowning in wolves by now."

  "Terrain wrong for DarkRiver."

  "Yes. I don't think we're in Yosemite." It was possible they were near the territory of another feline pack. On the other hand, given the cats' reputation for roaming far distances in their youth, it was equally possible they were near a single solitary changeling. If Aden could locate the owner of these paw prints, that changeling could go for assistance--if he or she didn't attack them on sight. Many changelings remained leery of Psy.

  It was, however, their only chance.

  They walked as fast as they could, hoping to beat the rain that was starting to spit again. If it poured down, the trail would be erased in a heartbeat, and with it, their first real chance of survival. Zaira finally lost consciousness what must've been about eight minutes later, and from the blood she'd coughed up, he knew she'd die if she didn't get medical attention soon.

  No, he thought, you do not get to die.

  Lifting her into his arms, he carried her tucked against his chest. She was so small in comparison to the others in the squad, but she was deadly and strong and part of their future . . . part of his future. When he went to his knees in the mud, he got up again, muscles straining and arms locked around her. His body protested, the leg injury he'd sustained in the fight outside the bunker starting to make itself felt, but he was still functional, still able to walk.

  Following the tracks of the changeling deep into the trees just as the rain pounded down again, he wasn't prepared for the tracks to simply disappear. Not with the canopy offering enough protection that he should've had another minute or two at least. He put Zaira down very carefully before taking out the penlight again and checking the ground. Nothing . . . but big cats could often climb.

  He turned just in time to see the glowing eyes of a large jungle cat coming at him.

  The impact crushed the air from his lungs, slamming his body into the rain-soaked forest detritus. His training told him to fight, but he lay quiescent. "My partner is badly injured and in need of medical attention. Will you offer assistance?" If the answer was no, Aden would use the knife he'd palmed, get away from the changeling.

  It might not be an easy fight, but he wasn't going to fail with Zaira's life at stake.

  Growling, its teeth flashing in the dark, the changeling walked over to Zaira's body. Aden could see spots now, realized this was a leopard, but, judging from the "welcome," not any leopard he knew. Sending Aden a glowing yellow-green glance after sniffing
at Zaira, the leopard bared its teeth and took off, moving so fast that Aden had no hope of following him.

  The darkness swallowed him up a heartbeat later.

  Either the cat was going for help or his answer was no to the request for assistance. Regardless, Aden had to keep going, try to locate a vehicle so he could get Zaira to a medic, or find a comm beacon he could hot-wire to send a message to the squad. Simply hunkering down was not an option. She'd die.

  He refused to think too hard about the fact that so far, they'd glimpsed no signs of civilization, no evidence that there might be a comm beacon or station in the vicinity, much less roads or traffic. That was self-defeating behavior and he was an Arrow trained to survive.

  Rising, one of his ribs feeling as if it had cracked under the impact of the leopard's pounce, he picked Zaira up again and continued on. As long as his body functioned, he would walk.

  A hard droplet of water penetrated the canopy to hit his cheek, then came another and another and another, until all around him was a torrential rain that sought to shove him to the earth. And then the wind slammed into him, the gale so strong that each step felt like fighting his way through a brick wall.

  So be it.

  "Stay alive," he said to Zaira, then gritted his teeth and took the next step.

  That was when the bullet wound in his leg finally tore wide open.

  Chapter 9

  REMI RACED THROUGH the rain, the pads of his paws soundless on the wet mass of leaves and branches under the trees, surefooted over the grassy open area that threatened to turn to mud at any instant. When the rain thundered down again, he growled low in his throat. On the list of his leopard's least favorite things in the world, icy cold rain rated very high, but that was an easily shrugged-off concern, his mind on the two people who'd been tracking him until he turned the tables on them.

  He'd kept his claws sheathed as he slammed into the man, intending only to pin the stranger down so he could figure out if he'd attracted unwelcome attention that could pose a risk to his pack. It was only as he hit the man that he'd caught the acrid scent of wet iron, a scent the wind had hidden from him until that instant.

  The woman, he'd realized almost at once, was bleeding badly. Her companion might be conscious, but he wasn't in much better condition.

  Remi had recognized the man's face a heartbeat after Remi's paws made contact with his chest. No way to mistake those sharp cheekbones, the intense eyes, the ruler-straight black hair that had become visible when his hood slid off: Aden Kai. The reputed leader of the Arrow Squad, according to the reports Remi had seen on various news platforms.

  No one seemed to know too much about the Arrows. Rumors ranged from calling them a death squad to a highly trained black ops team, but everyone had witnessed their actions in the past months. The black-clad men and women had saved Psy, human, and changeling lives across the globe--and they hadn't stuck around to lap up praise or play to the media.

  Arrows apparently did what needed to be done and didn't bother with the niceties.

  Remi could deal with people like that--if he didn't end up having to kill them. Right now, though, the question of what the fuck two Arrows were doing out in the middle of the Smokies could wait. A woman was dying and Remi would do everything in his power to attempt to save her. That didn't mean he wouldn't execute her if she proved a threat to his pack. It just meant he'd do it after she was healthy.

  Reaching the spot where he'd parked his rugged all-wheel-drive vehicle after deciding to use the cover provided by the storm to come up here to spy on RainFire's reclusive neighbors, he shifted into human form and hauled on his jeans. Once in the driver's seat, he didn't switch on the headlights. The jet-chopper he'd heard earlier in the night had disappeared, but it was possible it was simply circling above the heavy cloud layer, ready to drop down through any clear patches--and given the fact that the Arrows had headed away from the sound of the chopper, it was a good bet the two had company they wanted to avoid.

  Normally he'd have let the two parties fight it out among themselves, keeping his fledgling pack out of it, but every part of him rebelled against such an unfair fight. The Arrows were wounded and on foot, with a tiny knapsack of what he assumed were supplies, while the other side had a jet-chopper and likely ground forces. There was also the fact that his leopard had never liked the scents left behind by the neighbors who owned this tract of land.

  Sour sweat and cold metal had been the most prominent elements.

  Another growl rumbling in his throat, he drove on. Even with the torrential rain, his night vision and knowledge of the terrain meant he was at no risk of a fatal crash. RainFire might not own this land--yet--but no alpha worth his salt wouldn't be fully aware of every aspect of the landscape around his pack.

  The odd rock scraped the undercarriage, a few branches hit his windows, and he definitely lost a side mirror as he maneuvered through the forested landscape, but the vehicle was whole when he reached the farthest point he could go. Getting out, he ran on bare feet to where he could scent the Arrows. That scent was dull, buried under the rain that pounded his bare upper body and plastered his jeans to his legs, but the wind was on his side this time and those two didn't belong in this environment.

  The leader of the Arrows was down on his knees, but he still held on to his gravely wounded partner, shielding her face from the elements by curving his body over hers. Even as Remi ran to him, Aden attempted to get up. Stubborn fucker. But will alone couldn't overcome a body that had apparently been through the wars, and Aden was unconscious by the time Remi reached him, his body curled protectively over his partner's.

  Leopard and man both growled in approval.

  Psy, especially combat-trained Psy, were meant to be heartless bastards who balanced every action on a cost-reward ratio. Remi had picked up that fact from a couple of Psy he'd worked with on an oil rig back when he was nineteen. The two had been cold enough, but according to them, they were sunshine and roses compared to their more dangerous brethren. In this situation, leaving his partner behind would've given Aden a better chance of survival, yet he hadn't, was still protecting a fallen member of his squad.

  Assassin or not, Remi decided Aden Kai had at least one redeeming feature.

  Taking the woman first, after tugging her from Aden's tight grip, Remi put her in the backseat, then went back for Aden. The bastard was heavier than he looked, and he woke as Remi was hauling him to his feet, a knife suddenly in his hand. "Stand down," Remi growled, his claws slicing out of his fingers to prick at Aden's side. "I have your squadmate in the truck."

  A nod, Aden managing to stay conscious as Remi helped him into the backseat with the other Arrow. As he started to drive down to the pack's base, he saw Aden check the woman's vitals. "How far?" the Arrow leader asked.

  "Thirty minutes." He was driving hell for leather.

  "She won't make it. Go faster." An order from a man used to giving them.

  Remi was a predatory changeling alpha--he didn't take orders from anyone--but his cat didn't snarl. He could forgive a man trying to protect someone who belonged to him. "Strap in," he said, waiting only until Aden had put the safety belts around both himself and the other Arrow before he accelerated to a breakneck pace that would've equaled certain death for most people.

  Remington Denier wasn't most people. He wasn't even most alphas; he'd spent five years of his life working on race cars before he decided he didn't want to roam alone anymore, his hunger to set up a pack of his own a bone-deep pulse in his body. He'd set it up all right, but now he had to hold it together. Today, however, his days testing how cars handled on the track, combined with his night vision and heightened hand-eye coordination, kept them from going over cliffs or slamming into trees.

  "Cat." A faint sound from the back.

  "What?"

  "Zaira--internal bleeding. Gunshot wound. Abdomen."

  "Got it," Remi said, knowing the pack's healer would need every detail he could give him. "What else?"

>   "Small implants. Embedded in our brains," Aden ground out between short, rough breaths. "We got them out, but there could be damage."

  Fuck, that did not sound good.

  "Zaira's laser seal needs to be broken, the internal repairs checked."

  "I'll tell Finn," Remi said, but when he asked Aden to explain further and received only silence in return, he realized the Arrow leader had lost his battle with consciousness. Just as well--at least Remi didn't have to worry about revealing the location of RainFire's central base. He'd taken his cue from the DarkRiver leopards and set up a public HQ, while ensuring the pack's heart remained protected and off the grid.

  However, unlike with DarkRiver, RainFire cats weren't spread out across their territory. Such closeness could've been a source of primal tension since leopards weren't natural pack animals. It was the human side of changeling felines that made them want to create large extended families; in ordinary circumstances, the cat's need for space was accommodated by having plenty of land area between packmates.

  That wouldn't work for RainFire. They just didn't have enough people and resources to function as a united pack while scattered over the territory. One day, that would happen, but for now, their struggle for survival as a pack had trumped the need for space. Not that packmates didn't go off on their own now and then--he'd convinced a number of loners to join him in setting up RainFire, after all. But they always returned because RainFire was now home, their loyalty sworn and unbreakable.

  Screeching to a stop beneath the sprawling network of aeries built in the massive trees in the heart of their territory, permanent bridges connecting aeries and retractable rope ladders going down trunks, he hit the horn in the emergency pulse. Senior packmates boiled out into the rain-lashed dark a heartbeat later, including their healer, Finn.

  RainFire had lucked out snagging Finn--at a couple of years past forty in age, he was highly skilled and had full medical qualifications as well as a powerful gift. His birth pack had been sorry to see him go when he joined RainFire as one of the founding members, but had understood his choice; the healer who'd trained Finn had decades more life left in him, as well as another apprentice, and Finn was too strong to be anything but the senior healer in a pack.