Her Wild Protector (Paranormal Romance) (11 page)

Denzel laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? You always were naive, Marshall. Who the hell do you think sent me here? Your own precious organization. Oh, don’t look so surprised. They use us corrupt rogues when they don’t want to sully their own hands with dirty work. You were going to be given the honor but I guess they decided to let a real professional do the job.”

“Why do they want Tara dead? Dr. Freeman said…”

“The doc is full of shit. He lied to you. There’s no way to fix her, other than a bullet to her pretty head. Come on Marshall, relax. This is not the first person you’ve killed to protect DOSA and it won’t be the last.”

“No, there has to be a way to reverse whatever happened to her brain.”

“Maybe there is, but it’s not worth the time to find out. I shoot her, she goes missing, drowns in a tragic boating accident, an easy solution to the problem.”

“Since when did DOSA start solving problems that way?” Marshall asked. “They’ve already threatened her with dire consequences if she talks about them. She’s promised to cooperate.”

Even in the dim light, Tara saw his features distorted with rage.

“Since long before you and I came on board, trust me. This is the sure, easy way out for them. Why take any chances on an unimportant human? DOSA is not the fine, upstanding organization you think it is, and if you have any sense, you’ll quit them and come join me.”

“I don’t kill innocent people for money.”

“You kill people DOSA tells you to. How do you know who’s innocent?”

Tara tried to move and Denzel tightened his grip and brought his gun back up to her head.

“Let’s just get this over with now,” he said.

“No one will believe I was in a boating accident. I hate boats,” Tara said, struggling to keep calm. Looking into Denzel’s cold gray eyes, icy fingers danced along her spine.

“Okay, so you didn’t get on a boat, you decided to go for a swim. You had a few too many drinks, insisted on going out in these rough waters. I’ll pay a few witnesses to corroborate. Your body will never be found.”

“There’ll be an investigation…” Her voice shook.

“You watch too much television, little girl. There won’t be much of an investigation and what there is, DOSA will be in charge of. The right people will be paid off and no one will care about you.”

“Someone
will
care about me, you shithead,” Tara said, hot anger replacing the fear as she pictured her mother and sister crying over her coffin. Recalling a move Marshall had shown her from their tai chi lesson, she stomped on the top of his foot with her heel and jerked out of his grasp. Marshall grabbed her and pulled her in to his body, wrapping his free arm around her. She whimpered and hugged him tight.

“Oh, I see, that’s the way it is.” Denzel chuckled. “Come on, man. You’ve had your fun with her, it’s time to get down to business.”

“Why did you kill the Hendersons?” Marshall asked, his gun still trained on Denzel.

“They were supposed to be helping me out with this assignment, but they changed their minds at the last minute. I guess they liked your little friend, too. They were going to tell you what was going on and shoot me. How rude. Now let her go and let’s finish this. The boat’s coming by in the morning to pick me up. I’m going to be on it. What about you?”

“That’s all I needed to know.”

Before she realized what was happening, Marshall shoved her to the side, swung a kick at Denzel and knocked the gun from his hand. With a roar and a surge of heat, his body transformed into a large wolf.

“Holy shit,” Tara muttered under her breath, and backed up against the wall.

“So that’s how you want to play it, motherfucker!”

In the next instant, Denzel shifted, and a cheetah stood in his place, teeth bared.

Chapter Seven

With a roar, Denzel leaped, pushing Marshall out of the bedroom into the hallway. The two animals rolled, snarling and biting, down the hall into the living room. Tara stood frozen for a heartbeat, then grabbed the lantern and scrambled on the floor for the gun.

She dashed to the other room and watched for a moment as the two beasts fought. She smelled blood and saw patches of wet on the floor. Holding the lantern with one hand, she found the safety catch on the gun with the other. Which way had Marshall said to push it? She gave it a nudge forward with her thumb, pointed the gun at the ceiling and fired.

Both animals paused at the sound, and holding the lantern out, she took aim. It was so dark. Was that Denzel or Marshall? It looked like the cheetah, but she wasn’t sure. Knowing she did not have time to hesitate, Tara fired. The animal howled and she heard a thud. She raised the lantern higher and took a step back, not sure which man moved toward her. Into her circle of light walked Marshall.

Tara dropped the gun and lantern and threw her arms around him. He squeezed her back.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“Only a little. Pick that gun back up and give me the light. I need to take care of Denzel.”

She handed him the lantern and followed him to where Denzel lay, now back in human form.

“Did I kill him?” she asked in an unsteady voice.

“No, he’s knocked out but still breathing. The bullet went through his shoulder. While he’s unconscious his body will make repairs, but I need to have him sleep longer.”

Tara watched as Marshall laid his hand on Denzel’s head. A faint blue light shone, the same as she’d seen that day at the port. He stayed there for several moments then took his hand away.

“He’ll be out for a while,” Marshall said.

“What do we do now?”

He stood. “We have a stiff drink, clean up my wounds, then have another drink.”

“You’re bleeding.” Tara touched his arm. Even in the dim light she could see liquid running down his leg and chest.

“It’s just scratches. I’ll disinfect them and I’ll heal quickly.”

“I was afraid I shot you. I could have killed you.” Tara’s voice broke and Marshall wrapped his arms around her.

“You had to take the shot, Tara. You did good.”

She buried her head in his chest, drawing strength from his warmth.

He went to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the cupboard.

“Drink up,” he said pouring them both a shot.

“I don’t drink whiskey. It tastes like lighter fluid.”

“You do after you’ve shot a man. It’s a time-honored tradition.”

The liquid burned going down her throat but produced a pleasant warmth in her stomach. A slightly numb feeling took over after the second shot, and Tara let out a deep breath.

“There’s peroxide and antibiotic under the bathroom sink,” Marshall said, handing her the lantern. “I’m going to get more light out here and see about keeping the rain out of this house.”

“You Metamorphs are tough on doors, aren’t you?” Tara asked as they both glanced at the demolished entryway. She was rewarded with a faint smile from Marshall. She took a step toward the hall, then stopped. “You’re a beautiful wolf, you know that?” she asked.

“Thank you,” he replied quietly.

She located the first-aid supplies, and when Marshall returned, Tara cleaned his wounds in silence. The scratches weren’t deep and she watched in wonder as they healed even as she worked. She tried to keep her mind on her mission but was distracted by the proximity of Marshall’s naked body. He did not appear to even be aware of his state of undress. His masculine scent was stronger, possibly because he’d shifted to his animal form and back. Combined with the tantalizing scent of sex, his aroma stirred her senses and to her dismay, she felt arousal building again.

This was ridiculous! She’d just avoided an attempt on her life and had shot a shape shifter—something she hadn’t even known existed until a few days ago. She should be terrified or at the very least, highly frightened. She should not be so incredibly horny, wanting nothing more than to go back to bed with Marshall. Reminding herself of the danger they were still facing, she gathered up the medical supplies, stepped away from Marshall and focused her mind on the situation at hand.

“If DOSA can make your body so efficient, why can’t they repair my brain?” she asked. “Do you think Denzel was telling the truth, that my condition can’t be fixed? Do they really want me dead or was he just looking for an excuse to get rid of me?”

“I don’t know. I need to do a little digging, contact some friends in the agency. Either way, we’re getting out of here tomorrow when the boat arrives.”

“Is it going to be able to dock in this weather?”

“The last I saw, the storm will be over by midmorning. It’s already calming down.”

Tara listened and realized he was right. The wind and rain were lessening just a bit.

“Help me tape the shower curtain to this doorway, then let’s try to get some rest.”

Marshall headed to the bathroom and Tara held up the light, straining to see Denzel. She knew he was unconscious but didn’t want to get any closer. If she had her way, they would tie him up and lock him in the shed.

“Do you have a plan for tomorrow?” she asked Marshall as he rummaged in the kitchen. He appeared back in the living room with tape and more candles, which they lit and positioned around the area. Their glow had been comforting earlier in the day. Now, every dancing shadow seemed to be a menace, a monster ready to leap.

“Yes I do, but you don’t have to worry about it. We can talk further in the morning.”

Tara paused as she tore a strip of duct tape. The dismissive tone of his voice made her give serious thought to inflicting another wound on his body.

“Marshall, don’t keep me in the dark. I’m not a child. I need to know what’s going on.”

“I’m just trying to protect you. What you need to do is rest and not worry about what’s going to happen next.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a delicate flower. I’ve managed to make it through an incredible amount of shit in the past few days. Seriously, do you think a little more stress is going to be the pivotal factor in keeping me awake the rest of the night?”

Marshall sighed, then chuckled.

“All right, I suppose you are tougher than you look. Here’s what I have planned. When the boat comes for Denzel, we’ll be ready. You’ll distract the captain, get him to come on to the island. I’ll sedate him and tie him up. We’ll have a few hours to get to an airport and get out of here. Then we can catch a flight from Nassau to Costa Rica.”

“What happens there?”

“We lay low for a while. I’ve got a few friends there that can keep us hidden. If what Denzel says is true, DOSA will soon come after us both. It’s time to start playing dirty.”

“How do you propose to do that?”

“I know where a lot of bodies are buried. Figuratively and literally. If DOSA doesn’t agree to leave you alone and let me quit the agency, I’ll expose them.”

“You’re going to quit DOSA?” Tara stopped what she was doing, a piece of tape dangling from her fingers. “They’re not going to like that.”

From what she’d learned about the agency he worked for, Tara didn’t think they’d take kindly to threats. She was also sure they would have no problem killing one of their own if he became a liability to them.

“No, they won’t.” He continued fastening the curtain to the doorway.

“You don’t really want to quit working at DOSA, do you? Don’t do this just for me.” The thought of Marshall giving up his life’s work to protect her was gallant but alarming. Tara did not want the responsibility of forcing him to alter his life.

Marshall paused, then took one of her hands and squeezed it. “I’m more than ready for a change. This job is becoming intolerable. The things they’re having me do…” His voice trailed off and she saw the tension in his face. His brows drew downward and his mouth set in a hard line.

“You’ll miss it, parts of it,” she said.

“Yes, I will.”

They were both silent as they finished the job, then Marshall, grabbed their glasses and put them in the sink. He kept the bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“How long will this take? I can’t hide out on a tropical island forever,” Tara said, admiring the play of his muscles in the dim light. His silhouette on the wall closely resembled the magnificent wolf she’d seen earlier. Her libido stirred again and the thought of a few weeks together with Marshall actually sounded like a fine idea.

“I don’t know, Tara. It could take months.”

“Months?”

“Possibly, though I hope not. Come on, let’s go to bed. We can get another few hours of sleep.”

“Denzel…”

“He’s fine. He’ll remain unconscious for a long while.”

Lying in bed, Tara tossed and turned. Though part of her had wanted a repeat of their lovemaking and to cuddle up with Marshall, she needed time to be alone with her thoughts and sensed he did also.

Here she was again, going along with what a man told her to do, never mind what her needs were. Circumstances were entirely different than with her ex-husband, she knew. Marshall would not be in this situation if it weren’t for her and they didn’t have many options, but the feeling of being trapped enveloped her like a thick fog. Her chest constricted and apprehension coursed through her. Eventually, she calmed enough to allow sleep to take her.

* * *

Tara woke to the sound of a loud engine, the smell of coffee and the sight of sunshine edging its way around the shutter on her window. She lay in bed for a few moments, savoring the remnants of her last dream. Though her sleep had been fitful, with images of large-toothed animals, the last vision she’d had was one of Marshall, running his hand through her hair. She finally rose, pulled on her last set of clean clothes and went out to the living room.

Marshall was at his desk, staring at the computer screen.

“Is that the generator I hear?” she asked. He nodded, preoccupied with his task. “It
is
noisy. I can see why you don’t like to use it more than necessary.”

“But it’s a lifesaver when we need electricity. All right, if the boat gets here soon, we can go to Nassau and head to Costa Rica this afternoon before DOSA notices we’re gone. I’ll make sure Denzel and the boat captain stay asleep long enough for us to get a good head start. Give me your full name so I can buy your plane ticket.”