Hostage to Pleasure (43 page)

The voice cut off as Dorian shot through the tree and hit his target. The sound of bullet meeting flesh was close. They’d surrounded the tree.

“Fuck this,” someone said. “Shoot!”

And suddenly the tree was a war zone. Dorian moved swiftly up. They weren’t aiming high enough yet but sooner or later they’d figure it out. He put his body in front of Ashaya’s, intending to tell her that they’d need to move. There was a possibility he could jump them to another tree. But before he could get to that, he caught a familiar scent on the breeze. His leopard snarled, but the man grinned. “Damn wolves.”

Ashaya made a questioning face. “Wolves?”

“Wolves.” Knowing backup was on the way, he leaped back down to a lower branch and began to pick off the attackers once more. They were close to getting a fix on him when the first scream sounded. He hoped to hell Ashaya had Keenan’s ears blocked, because the wolves were being noisy about their work. Then the cats arrived.

In spite of the fact that the fight was now over, Dorian didn’t lower his guard. It was a good thing he didn’t. One of the human hunters had evaded everyone. Dorian caught the man’s scent from his left, and realized he’d climbed over from a neighboring tree. Not wanting to chance a shot going haywire, he stalked the man with quiet leopard focus. A whisper of air was the last thing the man heard as Dorian snapped his neck. The body crashed through the branches and to the ground.

A few minutes later, a whistle rang out. “All clear, Boy Genius.”

“Ice-fucking-cold water,” he muttered. “I’ve got Keenan up here.”

“Give us a couple of minutes.”

When he climbed up to Ashaya, she said, “Is Boy Genius another nickname?”

“No. It’s a way to get my temper going.”

Her lips curved slightly, despite the white-knuckled grip she had on Keenan. The kid gave him a pleading look. Dorian kissed Shaya and reached for him. “We’re safe. Give the K-Man to me.”

Keenan came without hesitation. “I want a
big
gun like yours.”

Trying not to smile, Dorian dropped an absent kiss on Keenan’s hair. “Did he . . . ?”

“No. I shielded him.” She looked down, eyes worried. “Will there be anything down there . . . to see?”

“They’re tidying up.” The bodies would be hidden away, the blood covered up, by the time he came down with Keenan. Since the boy didn’t have changeling senses, he wouldn’t smell the carnage.

Ashaya touched his cheek. “You protected us.”

He wondered how she’d known to say exactly what he needed to hear. “It was my own stupid—”

“Shh.” A feminine finger on his lips. “If it was your fault, it was mine as well. No ifs, no buts. You did good.”

Strangely, that simple sentence did more to soothe him than a thousand flowery words. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s go home.”

 
But it took a while for that to happen. After stashing Ashaya and Keenan in the Tank, the large vehicle Clay had driven to the location, he left them under Rina and Barker’s careful eyes, and returned to the scene of the kills.

The instant he saw the wolves, he realized the reason for the amount of noise—the boys weren’t juveniles, but only by a year or two. “Tai, what were you doing down here?”

Tai looked a little green as he shrugged. “Kit, Cory, and the others pulled a stunt in our territory, so we were, you know, paying them back.”

Dorian wondered what the DarkRiver boys had done. “Do I need to talk to them?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, swallowing as a wave of scent rose up in the shifting air currents. “We were just playing stupid games. Kid games.”

“You didn’t act like a kid today. Thank you.” Dorian held out his hand.

Tai gave him a shaky smile as their hands met. “We’ve never killed. Not people.”

Dorian glanced at Clay. “You called Hawke?”

“He’s on his way.”

Knowing the wolf alpha would take care of the boys, he told Tai and his friends to grab a seat on the forest floor a good distance away from the carnage. They obeyed without argument, leaving Dorian to walk over to the bodies. “Any ID?” he asked, crouching down beside Clay.

“No. But we found this.” The other sentinel pulled up the pant leg on one body, revealing the back of the shooter’s calf. The tattoo was simple. The letter
A
bordered by two straight lines. Except Dorian knew that that wasn’t what it was. It was an
A
overlying an
H
.

“Human Alliance.” He’d guessed as much, but it was good to have proof. “The others?”

“Yeah, ones with their legs undamaged.” Clay’s tone was predator-quiet as he said, “Two of them didn’t have bullets in their guns, but some kind of a dart.”

“Tranquilizer?”

“Probably. I’m going to send it up to Sierra Tech for tests, have one of our people run it.” To Dorian’s surprise, he leaned in to lift the dead male’s hair away from his neck.

Dorian spotted the reason why an instant later. “What
is
that?” The man had some kind of tiny metal device embedded at the top of his spinal cord.

Clay drew back his hand. “Maybe Ashaya can figure it out—they all have them.” He tapped a finger on his knee. “Important thing is, I don’t think we have to worry about another attack.”

“I’m not letting my guard down again.” He felt a sharp sense of disapproval along the mating bond. Ashaya, refusing to allow him to give in to guilt. It almost made him smile. “Why do you think this is over?” he asked Clay.

“There were fifty of them. All are dead.” Clay shrugged. “Whoever is running this would have to be an imbecile to send more people in now that we’ve been forewarned. And judging from their prep, I don’t think he’s that moronic.”

“No, he’s not. If I hadn’t had backup, they would’ve got what they wanted. Still, we make sure the word gets out that Ashaya’s got no info worth this much death.” Dorian didn’t kill easily, and he hated this fucking waste of life. But these men had come in with the intent to attack a predatory changeling’s mate and child. They’d made their choice.

“I’ll get the Rats on it,” Clay said, eyes narrowed as he began to go through the man’s equipment. “It’s time we began paying serious attention to the Human Alliance.”

 
It took Ashaya most of the next day to settle her thoughts enough that she could talk to Dorian about his latency. Even then she had to wait until Keenan was in bed and Dorian had returned from a meeting with Lucas; Hawke, the SnowDancer alpha; and several others.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked as he came out of the shower and collapsed facedown on the bed. Naked. This cat had no shame. Lucky for her, she thought with a smile.

“About the chips we found on the humans?” He all but purred as she straddled his back and began to knead his muscles.

“No. I’m still working on that. It’s a complicated piece of technology—some kind of a neuroinhibitor.”

“Mmm.”

She pressed a kiss to his nape. “Don’t go to sleep. This is important.”

“I’m awake.” He yawned. “Mostly.”

“I think I did it, Dorian.”

Something in her voice cut through the drowsiness, making Dorian turn onto his back to look up at her. “What, sugar?”

“I’ve figured out how to correct the mutation that makes you latent.”

He froze. “Shaya?”

“I’ve run and rerun simulations. I think . . . I think if it works, you’ll be able to shift. Gene therapy isn’t as rare as it once was—this one is a complex and very, very fine genetic change, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure of success.”

Not since his father had explained to him that he was different—at age two—had Dorian ever allowed himself to think about this. “Jesus, baby. How?”

“I don’t think I could’ve done it without being mated to you, not even with my abilities.” Her eyes filled with the devotion of a strong woman for her man. “It gives me a connection to you that’s so deep, the work’s intuitive. It’s like my gift recognizes you on a primal level. Once I stopped trying to think and let instinct guide me, it was almost easy.”

He blew out a breath, trying to make sense of the chaos in his brain.

“You don’t have to decide now.” She put a hand on his chest. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do it. I just wanted you to know the option was there.”

“Would it matter to you?”

“Of course not, Dorian.” A bright, beautiful smile that knocked out his heart. “I’d love you even if you were a damn wolf.”

“Now you’re learning.” But despite his teasing words, his mind was pure turbulence.

CHAPTER 52

In a large room in the sunken city of Venice, several people sat silently around a long table and considered the abysmal failure of their most recent operation.

“We wipe Aleine from the target list and go under,” the man at the head of the table said. “And we stay under until the furor dies down.”

A slow murmur of agreement. Some of them were grieving the loss of friends and colleagues. But not one,
not one
suggested that perhaps they’d taken the wrong path, that blood and death wasn’t the right way.

In truth, it was likely that the idea hadn’t even entered their minds. They were too blinded by the knowledge that the Psy Council was beginning to falter in its totalitarian rule, that the changelings were slowly gaining ground. Things were in flux, as they had not been for centuries. For a race that had spent eons in the shadows, it was a heady time, a time when empires might be felled . . . and power might be taken.

CHAPTER 53

 
—From the encrypted personal files of Ashaya Aleine

 
 
Dorian was sitting outside the cabin in the middle of the night, drinking a beer and attempting to get his head around the gift Ashaya had offered him, when a black panther prowled out of the forest. Dorian had caught Lucas’s scent long before his alpha appeared before him, and now waited as Lucas shifted to human form.

Changelings weren’t particularly concerned with nudity, but since Dorian’s cat got snarly at the idea of Ashaya walking out and seeing Luc that way, he went back into the cabin on silent feet and found a pair of sweats. Lucas pulled them on with a nod of thanks, and took the beer Dorian threw him, continuing to stand while Dorian sat.

“Let me guess,” Dorian said. “Sascha sent you after me.” He adored Lucas’s mate, but Sascha’s empathy tended to make brooding difficult.

“Actually, I figured this one out all on my own.” Lucas took a drink. “I think my first clue was when Nate called you Boy Genius this afternoon and you didn’t threaten to throw Tally in a lake.”

Dorian grunted, staring out at the forest. “Where’s Sascha?”

“In the aerie.”

“You left her alone?”

“As my mate would say—she’s a cardinal, fully capable of protecting herself.”

“So you left at least two others on watch.”

“Of course I did.” Lucas took another swallow of beer. “Why am I here in the middle of the night?”

“I didn’t call you.”

Lucas just waited.

Dorian was a sniper. He could’ve outwaited his alpha, but the truth was, he needed to talk. “Shaya’s figured out how to fix the misfire in my body, so I can shift.”

Lucas’s face went very quiet. “Well, hell.”

“Yeah.” He dropped the hand holding the beer bottle between his raised knees.

“You don’t want to?”

“I don’t know what the fuck I want.” He thrust his free hand through his hair. “All this time, I’ve done everything I could to be better, deadlier, faster.” Talin called him Boy Genius because she thought he was a compulsive overachiever. She was right. “It wasn’t enough that I was good at computers, I had to become a top-level hacker. Not enough that I got into architecture—I had to ace every exam. Hell, I even became a fucking pilot because it was a skill none of the other sentinels had. That drive—it was because I couldn’t shift.”

“Made you one tough son of a bitch, even as a kid,” Lucas agreed. “Now you’re wondering if you’ll lose that drive if you gain the ability to shift?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Dorian, that’s pure bullshit. We both know you’re too fucking hardheaded to ever be less than the best.” Throwing Dorian the empty beer bottle, Lucas folded his arms. “You’re scared, man.”

Dorian’s leopard growled. “And you know shit, Luc.” He got up and went into the house, closing the door behind him. He felt Lucas shift back into panther form and disappear a second later.

But as he slipped into bed beside Ashaya’s curvy body, soothing his beast with the lush warmth of her, the words of two very different men kept circling around and around in his head.

Turning, he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Ashaya’s sleeping face.

Her eyes opened a second later. “You’re thinking too hard.” A complaint followed by a yawn.

“Sorry.” Their bond wasn’t telepathic in the true sense, but it had become obvious that they picked up thoughts from each other at random times.

“You’re still worrying over the shift, aren’t you?” Her eyes darkened. “I should’ve kept silent. You were hap—”

He pressed a finger against her lips. “When you want something so bad it hurts,” he said quietly, “and you bury it, bury it so deep that you convince yourself it no longer matters . . . and someone tells you you can have it, it’s terrifying. What if you take the chance and you’re wrong? What if you let yourself feel the loss and it’s this huge pain and you can’t put it back in the box?”

Ashaya kissed his finger and moved his hand so it lay over her heart. “I’m not an expert on emotion,” she said in her honest way. “Most of the time, I have no idea how to deal with the storm inside me.”