Fierce Protector (Sierra Pride Book 3) (5 page)

“How old were you when it happened?”

“Ten. Old enough to know better.”

“Gabriel, that’s too much responsibility for a ten-year-old.”

“Nobody put me in charge—I just felt that way.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what responsibility I actually had. It matters what I felt. My two younger brothers weren’t old enough to look after anyone. It was usually me and Starla, in charge of the others.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Shifters usually have big families. I’ve got three brothers and two sisters. It was three sisters, with Starla.” His voice caught on her name, and he cleared his throat. “So how about you? What’s your family like?”

She gave a little laugh. “Nothing like yours. I’d love a big family. Mine’s too small, just me and my mom. My dad left when I was six. He was a big shot scientist, and now you could say I have all sorts of daddy issues, since I’m following in his footsteps, trying to get my PhD and prove I’m good enough.”

“But do you love it? The science? What you do?”

She sat back and looked at him. No one had ever asked her that before, not even her mother. “Yes. I do. I’m doing important work, and I love it. I’d do it anyway, wouldn’t I?”

His smile made her melt inside. “I wouldn’t know, but it sounds like you would.”

“I guess I always questioned my motives before. But thanks to you, now I’m sure I’m doing this for the right reasons.”

“Good.” He nodded and looked around. “I know I was too pushy before, but I’m worried. Your advisor said she’d be coming out. You should try calling her again.”

The last thing Miranda wanted was for Dr. Gutierrez to show up and see Miranda in the throes of lust with Gabriel. Unprofessional at the very least, and highly embarrassing. Gutierrez would probably wonder if he’d been around this whole time, and if he was the reason Miranda was having such trouble getting samples.

Well, he sort of was the reason, but not in the way Gutierrez would think.

Picking up the satellite phone, Miranda punched on the power and dialed her advisor. It rang and rang before switching to voicemail. Miranda ended the call with a huff of impatience, and fought off a wave of irritation. “Figures. Gutierrez wouldn’t give me any help when I needed it, and now that I don’t want it, she’s coming out anyway.”

He froze with his hand on her leg. “Gutierrez?”

“My advisor at the UC, yeah.”

“Evelia Gutierrez?” His voice was a harsh whisper.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “Why do you know her?”

He stood up and began pacing back and forth next to the cot.

“Shit.
Shit
. I have to go. We can’t…I can’t…fuck. Fuck!” He punched the side of the shack, splintering a plank of wood.

Miranda jumped back, clutching the old blanket to her chest. “Gabriel, what is it?”

“You have to pretend, we have to pretend. Shit, you won’t be able to…this never happened.” His voice sounded broken, cracked, like he was talking through broken glass. He yanked on his jeans and pulled on a shirt. “She can’t know.”

“She can’t know what? Gabriel, talk to me. You aren’t making any sense.”

“I thought you were it,” he said. “I thought you were the one for me, my mate. Maybe you are, but we can’t do this, not anymore. Go back to your life, Miranda. Live well.”

A hollow, empty feeling was spreading through her chest. “Could we please talk about this?”

“No. And please, don’t say anything about me to anyone—especially not your advisor.”

And suddenly, the best thing to ever happen to her in her entire life stood up and walked out the door.

Exactly like her dad had done.

Chapter Nine

Gabriel stalked through the darkening forest. Evelia Gutierrez. She was an award-winning scientist who had published books under a pen name, postulating the existence of shapeshifting humans. One of those crackpots trying to expose his kind. He knew because he’d been following up on her and a few others—not personally, but he knew who they were, what they were up to. The prides talked to each other, and he’d heard of her specifically.

She couldn’t be allowed to access any kind of data on shifters of any kind, and now, suddenly, one of her PhD students had fallen in love with a shifter. With
him
.

How could they make it work? Miranda shouldn’t have to decide between him and her studies, and it would be impossible for her to lie convincingly when her very work centered around Evelia Gutierrez’s research. He couldn’t expect her to abandon her studies and disappear with him.

He thought about the ranch back home, and how well Miranda would fit in there. Mav would idolize her—he’d pester her with questions about college and science and the best places to do undergrad studies to prep for the right graduate programs. Blake and Jude would love her like a sister, too, and he could imagine all of them, Hera included, tooling around the trails of the ranch on ATVs, racing around in the mud. In the evenings, they’d grill steaks and vegetables out on the patio, and play those damn games that Jude was so fond of. Pictionary, Trivial Pursuit, Killer Bunnies.

Gabriel would throw it all away, though, to keep her safe from her advisor, and to keep the rest of them safe, as well. Her advisor could never know about him. And maybe, eventually, Miranda would be able to move on. Find someone else.

Hell and fuck. The very thought of her with someone else killed him inside. But better that than her being lonely for the rest of her life. He knew he’d be lonely for the rest of his.

Although he was hundreds of yards away, he could hear her sobs echoing behind him. Hell, she was probably crying inside his head now. Or maybe that was him, crying. He touched his cheeks, which were wet with tears.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do it either way.

What kind of Neanderthal was he being, anyway? Not letting her make her own decision? Walking off without talking about it? Maybe he hadn’t always agreed with Nan on political issues, but she’d taught him enough that they’d both agreed on feminism. Now he was behaving like a jackass, and he knew Nan would tell him so.

There was no good answer here, but maybe they could figure something out, together.

He turned back to the shack, shouting, “Miranda! Miranda!”

He hadn’t gone very far before the dart sank into his shoulder. He felt the sting and twisted to swat it away, but it was too late. Everything around him faded to gray, and then black.

Chapter Ten

Crying tears mixed with equal parts sorrow and rage, Miranda pulled on her pants and top. No way was she going to let Gabriel walk away like that, like she hadn’t meant anything to him, like what they’d immediately felt for each other wasn’t more powerful than anything they’d ever experienced. It was the purest, highest love, and she was going to let him yank it away because…why? Some fear of her advisor? Did he think Miranda would sell him out and reveal his secret?

When she stepped from the shack, she saw shadows moving in the darkening forest.

“Gabriel?” she whispered. It looked like him, rushing toward her, head down as if he were charging.

“Miranda!” he shouted.

There was a shadow to the left, and Miranda lifted her arm to point, but he suddenly fell to the ground, sliding as he went.

“No!” Miranda skidded to the ground, trying to reach him. A dart stuck out from his shoulder, and she moved to grab it.

“Ms. Hsin!” Dr. Gutierrez’s voice came from the left. “Perfect. Help me tie him up—I have some good strong rope here.”

“Dr. Gutierrez?” How had she gotten here? When? How much had she heard between Miranda and Gabriel? Miranda turned and tried to keep her face free of the confusion she felt. “Rope?”

“Yes, come on, now. Don’t worry—the ropes are reinforced with metal fibers. He won’t be going anywhere.”

“We can’t do that,” Miranda said. Dr. Gutierrez was a stickler for the rules, so Miranda tried to reason with her, “He’s a person. We don’t study people, and there are all kinds of ethics codes. We would need his signed permission.”

“I think you know very well what he is,” Dr. Gutierrez said. “He’s not human. This is a great opportunity for science.”

For science, or for
you
? Miranda wondered. But she didn’t dare say it. “I don’t understand why you shot a man.”

“I tranqed him. And he’s not just a man, Ms. Hsin.”

There was no pretending that Dr. Gutierrez didn’t know what Gabriel was. She’d probably known about him—or shifters like him—from the very beginning, when she’d sent Miranda out here. Probably she had guessed that Miranda would eventually come across sets of prints too interesting not to report. And as soon as she had, Dr. Gutierrez had gathered her things and come out.

“When did you leave Sacramento?” Miranda asked.

“Last night,” Dr. Gutierrez said. “I drove to Nubston, and this morning I was already out on an old access road. My cell barely worked, but I’m glad I was able to get the coordinates from you. You’ve helped us more than you can imagine.”

Miranda shook her head. This wasn’t possible.

“Ms. Hsin, do you realize what an accomplishment this is for you? Your career? Your name will be on the covers of the most prestigious scientific journals, for years. For the rest of your life.”

Her name on journals, like her dad’s. It was what she’d always wanted.

But not at this price.

“Of course,” Miranda said. It made no sense to argue at this point. “I found him, of course. Let me help you.”

Together, they bound his arms and legs. His head and shoulders were heavy in Miranda’s arms, and she tried to stifle the pulse of tenderness that washed through her. Easy enough, as that tenderness was tempered by the horror of what Dr. Gutierrez had turned into.

Gabriel was a person, not a science experiment.

Miranda hoped for an opportunity to loop the restraints loosely and provide him some means of escape, but Dr. Gutierrez didn’t trust her yet. So Gabriel was tightly bound, and Miranda resisted the urge to stroke his broad chest as it rose and fell with each shallow breath.

She couldn’t stand hurting him. Moments ago they’d been telling each other how they felt. He loved her, he’d said, and for some insane reason, she’d felt his love throughout her whole being. She reciprocated it, even, and she’d thought herself incapable of trusting in real love. Maybe love didn’t make sense. Maybe none of it ever would make sense.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to make sense, and maybe on some level, Dr. Gutierrez had a good reason for doing what she was doing.

Fuck that. Miranda had found the man of her dreams. She wasn’t about to let anyone take him away from her.

Chapter Eleven

Gabriel woke with his arms behind him. His head ached like a motherfucker, but otherwise his senses were dull.

Where was Miranda? Was she okay? He moved to get up, but putting his hands out was impossible; his wrists had been bound in something heavy and coarse—thick rope—that he couldn’t break apart by pulling against it. The same thick rope was wrapped around his ankles, too tight to offer any give.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, but that only made the ache worse. So instead he stilled and tried to listen. Women’s voices, one of them slightly higher-pitched with tension, the other perfunctory and almost business-like.

Miranda’s voice was the tense voice, but at least she was alive. He could figure out later how to eliminate whatever threat was making her feel anxious. Because he
would
eliminate it, and with great pleasure.

He carefully turned his head to search for her. The forest was growing dark, and night would be here soon.

There Miranda was—unbound, moving around freely, talking with a woman who must be Evelia Gutierrez. Gabriel couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. Why was Miranda there, free, and talking with Gutierrez? Why wasn’t she helping him?

It didn’t matter, because he still had to get both him and Miranda as far from Evelia Gutierrez as possible. The woman was pure evil in the name of science, and who knew what her plans were for Gabriel. He had some guesses, and they weren’t pretty.

The two women turned suddenly, and Gabriel closed his eyes to slits. Only if they got up close would they be able to see his eyes were open. Although he could see quite well in the fading light, he knew they could not. Miranda had a confident look about her face, and a tinge of pink decorated her high cheekbones. How could she look in such good spirits?

But he remembered the tension in her voice. Maybe she felt bad for him. Maybe she was having regrets.

“Let me get a quick blood sample,” Miranda said.

Gabriel couldn’t believe his ears. Miranda? Taking samples from him? She’d seen how thoroughly he’d destroyed some of her samples—she had to know how important it was that samples of him and his kind weren’t held by scientists.

“We should take another sample once he’s…transformed,” Miranda added. “See if the blood matches in the same ways, or if it transformed, as well.”

“Good thinking,” Gutierrez said. “Spoken like a true scientist.”

Miranda approached, one soft footstep ahead of the other, as if afraid of waking him. He forced himself not to flinch or react when she pressed the needle to his skin. Feigning sleep would buy him time to come up with an escape.

There was nothing more than the initial prick of the needle, no pain except for the growing emptiness in his chest. He wanted to believe that she had some greater purpose for doing this, that she was merely pretending to help Gutierrez, but there was no mistaking the very real scent of blood when she removed the needle a few seconds later.

She didn’t touch him. She could have given him a gentle caress or stroke with those long fingers of hers, but there was no contact.

“Got it,” she said cheerfully.

Miranda, his mate, the woman he loved—she’d betrayed him.

He wanted to roar with grief and anger, but there was no time. He had to find a way out of this, a way to escape these scientists.

“I should wait to leave until you get the second sample,” Gutierrez said.

“Of course, Dr. Gutierrez,” Miranda answered. “I’ll just…hmm. Do you know how to make him transform?”