In that way Chris and Allison were stronger—fearless, willing to reach out no matter how much it hurt.
Dios
, she’d run him off in terror and revulsion, but still he’d come back. That spoke volumes.
She’d make it right. She’d beg his forgiveness. Hope kindled inside her for the first time since the attack. Yes, they’d lost loved ones, but if they didn’t fight, it was over. Valle would be doomed, with nothing beautiful left in the post-Change world.
Rosa wouldn’t let that happen.
But she couldn’t carry it all anymore, nor did she want to. For the first time she realized that being fallible didn’t mean she would automatically lose everyone’s regard. She could laugh and cry. She could be
wrong
, as people often were. And even so, she would still be worthy of respect.
If—no,
when
they rebuilt, she would propose a town council. No longer would it be
la jefa
and her bravos. Issues would be put to a vote, just as they had been in the
taberna
. This wasn’t her feudal kingdom, run by a tyrant with an iron fist, but a community where bonds of concern and affection kept everyone working hard and doing the right things. She had made Valle a strong, safe place where people wanted to stay, but it was time to open her hands.
Ex watched her, his gunmetal eyes heavy with anticipated heartbreak. He had already lost so much to the Change. They all had. And she had been so judgmental, condemning her lover because he didn’t meet her expectations. If she trusted Ex, then she could offer no less to Cristián.
“I need to talk to Chris,” she said softly.
“I thought you might.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
Chris held still, assessing the new data his senses so relentlessly provided. Rosa was standing right behind him. How exactly had he known? Her respiration was agitated, yet calm enough that she still breathed through her nose. Her scent, that particular mix of desert and a woman’s salty sweetness, swept over him in a torrent of want.
He tried to push it away, hold
her
away, but there was no changing what he was.
Steeling himself for another face-to-face encounter with Rosa’s disgust, he turned slowly away from the desert night.
At least his amplified senses permitted him some measure of surprise. Her expression, for example—he never would have guessed before seeing it himself. She looked devastated, almost childlike in her pain.
The impulse to drag her close and hold her was so strong. He crossed his arms over his chest in what felt like a shield. But physical strength—never something he’d placed much stock in before the Change—would do little to protect his heart.
“What can you see?” she asked softly, moving to stand by his side.
He’d been practicing all evening, but not in a way he could ever explain. The information was there. His practice had been in trusting instincts that provided answers he couldn’t possibly know. Not as a human, anyway.
“About two hundred meters out, there’s a fox scratching under a creosote bush.”
“You see it?”
“Some. The shadow moving. But I can hear the scratching. I can smell its musk and know it’s a lone male.”
Rosa let out a shaky sigh. “You saved my life. I wanted to thank you.”
The moments before Chris’s life-altering change swarmed in tight. Rosa on her knees. A gun to her forehead. Even now, hours on from that trigger, he crossed his arms more tightly. That remembered threat to her sparked the impulse to shift; it hung
right there
under his skin. He tipped his face to the sky and focused, really focused, on a single star until the urge passed.
For the first time, he wondered if he could change at will. Jenna had always said it took moments of panic or anger, but he hadn’t seen her in years. Maybe it became easier in time—giving over to the animal, then reclaiming one’s humanity.
“No matter what you think of me now,” he said, “remember me as we were last night. Could I have let you be killed? Hell, no. Not when I could do something about it. He may as well have shot me too.” Forcing more and more calm into his body, Chris let his tense arms drop. “So I attacked.”
“You really didn’t know, did you?”
“No.”
“And it’s important to you that I believe that.”
Daring a glance down at her face, he bit his back teeth together. She stared out into the desert, as if she might see what he did. Her breath came quicker; the shallow rhythm lifted her breasts. But it wasn’t fear or revulsion. Rosa seemed . . . nervous. Not a word he would have associated with her before.
“Yes,” he said. “No matter what happens, I can’t have you thinking I deceived you. I never have.”
“So when you . . . shifted . . . you were just as scared and confused as me.” She faced him. Surprising tears shimmered beneath the pale moonlight. “And I sent you away.”
Chris could only swallow.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I said I was protecting Valle, but I don’t think I was. Not right then. I was in shock. Everything was burning, and Viv . . .”
Her voice cracked. Chris could no longer maintain the protective wall between them. He folded her against his chest as agonized sobs tore her apart. Her shuddering grief sank into his heart. He wrapped his arms around her, relishing the feel of her, even as she mourned.
Salt stung his eyes. His pain was grief too—the grief of saying good-bye. If this was all he got, all that was left of him and Rosa, he would soak up every precious detail.
The last of her sobs quieted. She slowly lifted her face, wiping tears away with surreptitious movements. Red rimmed her lids. She sniffed. But she didn’t pull away.
Chris knew it wouldn’t last. Soon she would realize who she held—
what
she held.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “I haven’t cried . . .”
“It’s okay.”
He steeled himself and did what he needed to do, taking the step so she wouldn’t have to. He pushed her gently away from his chest, then eased the blunt action by rubbing her upper arms before letting go.
“Are all the plans in place?” she asked. “The bravos know what to do?”
And she was back. Chris was glad. At least he knew where he stood with
la jefa
.
“Yeah, they’re good to go. We’re low on ammo and gas, but going in on foot will solve that. It’ll be grim. Knife fighting. Hand-to-hand. But frankly, I think most of the boys want it. This is a grudge match as much as a rescue.”
“How long by foot?”
“We can get to the border of Valle territory in the pickup. Then about five kilometers beyond that. Maybe an hour?” He shrugged. “If they’re as drunk and stupid as we hope, we should take them by surprise. Unless . . .”
“Unless?”
“Unless they have a shifter too. If there’s anyone in that camp with senses like mine, we’re done.”
Rosa tipped her chin up, meeting his gaze. “You want something from me. What is it?”
“Two things. But know that I don’t ask them for myself.”
“¿Qué?”
“Once we’re nearby, I’ll want to go on ahead, scout the area and make sure we can attack without warning.”
“Fine. And?”
“I need you with me on this. On all of it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, as if the eyes of all of Valle bored into him. He’d never felt more conspicuous as when the bravos had taken that vote, but he knew it couldn’t have been any easier for Rosa. “The result was only three in favor of having me along. Together, though, we need to get everyone in the right frame of mind for fighting. To work as a team.”
She was quiet for a long time, simply staring at his sternum. Plans and fights and things left unsaid flittered across features that were both soft and tough. Then she squared her shoulders and nodded. “It’s actually four in favor of having you along. No one bothered to ask my vote.”
Chris frowned.
I’m not hearing her right.
“Maybe that’s my own fault,” she said with a wobbling smile. “Being
la jefa
for so long, they probably just thought I’d overrule any outcome I didn’t like.”
She’d needed to offer her thanks and her apology. She’d needed a shoulder to cry on. And now she needed the best tool for the job. All of it was more than he’d hoped. But no matter how much her grudging acceptance lightened his heart, Chris knew that things weren’t back to the way they were.
He exhaled heavily. “Good. Thank you.”
“But I ask that you take Ex with you when you do your recon.”
“Rosa, I’m going to try and do it as . . .”
“As the cat. I know. Believe me, Ex can help.” She tipped her head. “Just what are you, exactly? Some sort of leopard?”
Another frown from Chris.
“I want to know what we’re dealing with,” she said. “Strengths and weaknesses.”
“Right.” Information. Leadership. That was all. “Yes, a leopard,” he said at last. “An African leopard, actually. They’re opportunistic hunters, stealthy and strong. Very adaptable to terrains from jungle to desert. Great at climbing trees and dragging up prey. And they’re relatively fast, about fifty-five kilometers an hour.”
“They,” she said softly, her fingers brushing his forearm. His hairs prickled at the touch. “You used to study them. And now . . .”
“Now I am one. Yeah, don’t mention that too often. I don’t think I can handle it.”
The tension between them spiked again. Chris wouldn’t trust any of it, not on the verge of such violence. They would fight like hell to do their jobs, to come back alive. Then, if they had any future at all, they’d figure out how it looked.
The truck fired to life. A whoop of male voices followed. Chris couldn’t help but smile. There would be death and there would likely be more heartache, but the thrill of the hunt was something he was quickly learning to indulge.
“Showtime,” he said, grinning.
“They deserve everything that’s coming to them.”
“Damn straight.”
Rosa threw him a cocky, hard-edged smile. Wrapped in moonlight, her features still slightly exaggerated after crying, she was the strongest, most erotic creature he’d ever seen. Chris threw away his caution and the last of his shame. He was what he was. And he was still a man in love.
He framed her face with his hands, swooping in for a hard kiss. Mouth met mouth. She was warm, smooth, so damn sweet. It seemed a lifetime had passed since he’d last tasted her. The blood in his ears became a crashing tide.
Rather than shove him away, Rosa looped her arms around his neck. Her tongue slipped between his lips. Roughly, her body shaking, she kissed him back with a fervor to match his own. Soon it wasn’t enough. Kissing her was beautiful and utterly overwhelming, but it would never be enough.
It was nearly midnight. They had work to do.
“Ah, Rosita,” he whispered.
“Buena suerte.”
“Tú también.”
She eased out of his arms, pushing a tangle of black hair behind her ears. “We’ll talk, Cristián. When we get back.”
He nodded. “When we get back.”
The words felt like a promise. It was all he needed.
They rejoined the bravos, many of whom were decked with armaments he didn’t recognize. He glanced at Rosa. “Where the hell did all that come from?”
“We kept a secret store of weapons, buried out by the scrap yard. Emergencies only.” Rio and Falco flanked her, offering ordnance. She took a machine pistol and a serrated blade from her men. “Invasion was always a possibility, but we made sure that retaliation would be possible too.”
Rio stowed his rifle in a holster across his back. “Might as well go down fighting.”
Rosa climbed atop the truck. She stood like a goddess on a mountaintop, demanding their attention.
“
Mis bravos
, dawn is a long way off. Darkness and death wait between now and morning. But you all wear a tattoo in the shape of the shadows leaving this valley when the sun rises. That’s what I saw when I first came to Valle. It’s what we’ll see when we return victorious.”
A shout came up from the armed men. Chris couldn’t turn his attention away from Rosa. His woman. She would be his again. That kiss, that thawing of fear and pride—they could start again. In the meantime he simply indulged in the fierce, stunning sight of her shaded in darkness, eyes flashing pain and rage. She had forged both into an arsenal that would see her through.
He had to believe that.
“The dust pirates, those filthy
hijos de putas
, have taken women from our town. Free women who deserve happiness and security.” She paused, every bravo in the palm of her hand. “Tonight, we take them back and we end that threat for good.”
Green light.
The men channeled their shouts into action. Someone gunned the truck, which was soon packed with eager bravos.