Hunger's Mate Read online

  “Kill me and you’ll never know what it is, and believe me,” he said with a smirk, “you want to know.”

  * * *

  “Let go of me!” Jewel said the moment she looked into his sea-green eyes. Correction, right at this moment they looked like a storm-ravaged sea, his brow creased, lips clenched tight as he glared down at her.

  His fingers gripped her arm, causing her shoulder to ache as she attempted to pull away.

  “I told you not to move,” he said through gritted teeth. “You were trying to get away.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed there’s a mini-war going on down there,” she said with a nod toward the balcony and the many military trucks parked all over the driveway. “I’d rather not stick around and become a casualty. Now. Let. Me. Go!”

  All her pulling and resisting was futile. His grip was simply too strong and he was too damned stubborn to listen to reason, as evidenced by the low growl she thought she heard coming from him, and the way he quickly snatched her away from the balcony.

  In the next seconds he was pulling her along behind him so fast she doubted her feet were actually touching the ground. But the pack was secure at her back, her cell phone stuffed into her front pants pocket. For now, that and getting out of this building alive were all that mattered.

  Ezra just about yanked the door off its hinges, pulling her into the hallway right behind him. People were running everywhere, wet from the overhead sprinklers and yelling in an attempt to find a way out.

  “The exit’s that way!” she yelled to Ezra.

  “I know where the goddamned exit is,” was his quick retort.

  She figured he knew because he knew just about everything that was going on in this place, even though he’d only been here a couple of weeks.

  “I wasn’t talking about us, I’m talking about them!” she continued to yell over the noise. “They’re going the wrong way!”

  He stopped abruptly and she ran straight into his back, almost falling to the floor with the force. He grabbed her around the waist then scooped her beside him as they backtracked to the part of the hallway that split. One directed them to the elevators and one to the stairs that would lead to the front lobby. When he finally let her go, she thought it was a mistake and she was ready to run, to get away from him and get out of this building until she saw his arms raised, waving back and forth.

  “This way to the exit!” Ezra yelled. “Down the hall, this way to the green exit sign.”

  Momentarily shocked, Jewel didn’t know what to say or do for that matter. Then she started grabbing people that were too frantic to listen and turning them in the right direction. “Go straight down this hall. Follow the neon signs,” she told them.

  They stood there a few seconds more, directing all that ran past them, watching as the masses started heading down the hallway, busting through the exit doors at the end.

  “We gotta go,” he said to her, and she nodded her consent.

  The elevator doors opened and soldiers with guns in hand came charging out.

  “Get in front of me and run as fast as you can,” Ezra instructed her. “Don’t look back! Just run!”

  With those words he pushed her in front of him. She heard more gunshots, some sounding awfully close to her but she ran, lifting her feet and moving as fast as she could, the weight of her bag hindering her slightly, the adrenaline kicking in, edging her forward.

  Jewel used both hands to push through the exit doors, taking the stairs with a burst of energy. There were still lots of people in the stairwell and she didn’t want to push past them, causing more chaos than there already was. She did, however, want to turn back to see if Ezra was still with her. But she didn’t. He’d told her not to look back. She needed to get out of this place, to get to her car and to get to her father. Ezra would be fine. He could take care of himself, she was absolutely sure of that fact. Still, when she reached the bottom of the stairs and edged her way outside she did stop. She turned around and felt her chest clench because Ezra wasn’t there.

  Her head spun one way and then the next as she tried to find him. People were everywhere, running and screaming, falling and crying out. Gunshots were still sounding, but only from the inside. The men had left their vehicles and rushed the building; none of them stood outside to guard the property. That wasn’t a good sign. Jewel didn’t want to move from that spot, she wanted to wait for Ezra, but the others around her had a different idea. In seconds she was being pushed forward toward the rest of the crowd, toward what they thought was safety.

  This exit had taken them out the side of the building. If she ran just a few feet she’d be in the employee parking lot where her car was. She could be in it and on the road in ten minutes. Looking around once more she searched the crowd for a man who would be taller and broader than the others, whose eyes would find her in the masses, she knew without a doubt. But she did not see him.

  What she did see, however, took her by surprise. Men she’d seen throughout the resort in the time she’d worked there. Some she knew from either being in the gym or helping out when they had big events to set up for. People she’d seen talking to Jacques or Mr. Perry and even going into those private meetings they held in the second-floor conference rooms. She knew most of them by name, knew their personalities and habits. Seeing them now, guns in hand, grim faces, eyes alert, wasn’t the norm. Right now, in this moment they ceased being hired help around the resort and looked more like the soldiers she’d watched disembark from those trucks. They looked like they were ready and waiting to kill.

  She’d just figured this situation was much worse than she’d originally thought—if that were at all possible—and decided her best bet was to get the hell out of here right now. She could blend in with this crowd and disappear just as she’d been planning to do all along and this time, there was no one here to stop her. Jewel turned, ready to break out into a run when she was grabbed by the waist and lifted into the air. The breath was knocked out of her as she was turned, her stomach flopping against something rock hard.

  She was moving then. Or rather the person carrying her was moving, quickly through the crowd as if the people knew they were coming and parted the way for them. In the next instant she heard tires on the asphalt, more yelling, more gunshots, then she was tossed into the backseat, doors slamming closed behind her. The vehicle was moving by the time she’d managed to right herself and look forward. There was a partition there, blocking her view of who was driving or where they were going. With both fists she pounded on the surface, yelling to be let out.

  Then the door to her left opened and Ezra slipped inside. Her fists slid down the partition to her sides because she knew the yelling and pounding was definitely futile then. Instead she twisted, leaping over the seat until she could pound her fists into his massive chest instead.

  “Where were you? Where did you go? I turned around and you weren’t there, you asshole!” she screamed at him.

  He let her continue for what seemed like endless seconds. She knew he was letting her do this because she was well aware of how strong he was and how commanding his mere appearance could be. Still, it was a minute or so before he grabbed her wrists, pulling her up so close their noses now touched.

  “I told you not to look back,” he said through gritted teeth. “You are so damned hardheaded.”

  “Well, you’re a jerk and a—” Her words were cut off as his lips took hers in a hungry, desperate kiss that melted every word in her mind, every plan she’d conceived, every dream she’d ever had into a puddle of molten hot desire.

  * * *

  Jacques held tight to his gun, but lowered his arm. He was outnumbered, or so it seemed. There were six human men, counting the one that looked more like a life-sized toy soldier complete with crew cut, combat boots, and fatigue wear. On Jacques’s side were the only two shifter guards left standing, which actually meant there were three fully grown and experienced jaguars against six humans with firearms. They could still take the
m down, or do a hell of a lot of damage in the meantime.

  But he held his free hand flat behind him, signaling his men to stand down, for the time being.

  “You’re not going to get away with this,” were his first words to the commander, for he knew this was the guy in charge of this little ambush. “Whatever it is you want or think you can find here is not going to work out to your advantage.”

  The man threw his head back and laughed, a rifle tucked securely in his right hand. Not only did Jacques know the gun by sight, he knew exactly what it could do to him and his guards once aimed and fired. His cat roared beneath the surface, pressing so hard against his bones he thought at any moment they might crack under the pressure and against his will. The two cats behind him were having the same battle, the humans using every bit of their training to keep them in control.

  “Let’s put it this way, little man,” the commander, who Jacques suspected might be the infamous Captain Lawrence Crowe they’d just been told about from the Comastaz Labs, said to him with a knowing sneer. “If I don’t get what I want, this situation’s going to get a whole lot uglier.”

  “Uglier than you?” Jacques taunted. This man, this soldier-gone-bad was definitely a killer. There was no doubt about that in Jacques’s mind.

  But even a killer was smart enough not to get rid of the one that could help him, or at least Jacques figured it worked in his best favor to make the lunatic think that.

  He hadn’t anticipated the captain’s speed as he took a step forward, lifted the gun, and brought the barrel across the side of his face. Jacques’s head snapped to one side, his dreads flicking along with the motion. Behind him the two guards stepped forward, no doubt holding their guns pointed at the captain. “Stand down,” Jacques commanded. “Stand the hell down!”

  “Good move,” the captain said. “Good fucking move.”

  He grabbed Jacques by his dreadlocks then, pulling his head back until it could have been ripped right off his neck. Jacques’s skin burned, the animal inside busting its way through the human barrier. He gritted his teeth, pushing the beast back, commanding that it too stand down and wait for his next order.

  “Now I want you to tell me where they’re keeping Dawn Montgomery,” the captain continued.

  “Oh, that’s what you’re here for?” Jacques replied mockingly. “I saw a bit of resemblance to this other ugly motherfucker we have locked up here, figured you were looking for your brother.”

  That earned him a knee to the gut, then a kick in the base of his spine as he’d been bent forward. His claws ripped through the skin of his fingers at that moment, the cat too long gone to wait. Jacques shook his head, his teeth sharpening, elongating, but he continued to fight, continued to hold the beast back as best he could. Because if he shifted, the others with him would undoubtedly shift too and then this hell he thought they were in now would be significantly worse. Bas would be disappointed. For Jacques, that just wasn’t an option.

  So he stayed down. He stayed bowed over, hoping his guards would keep their heads as well in this situation.

  “Cap’n?”

  Jacques heard one of the men call. He took advantage of the distracting moment by working to steady his breathing. Balling his fists and pressing them to the floor he tried like hell to retract the claws that had the skin around them burning.

  “You might want to look at this,” the man continued.

  Jacques turned his head a bit, but kept his bowed position, watching in horror as the soldier lifted a file folder from Bas’s desk, holding it out to the captain. The commander took the folder, tucking his gun under his arm to free his other hand so he could flip through it. “Smarter than I thought you were, my Dawn,” he said. “Smarter than I thought you were.”

  Turning quickly, the commander pushed the file down into the front of his shirt. He nodded his head and Jacques’s cat pushed so hard he heard the bones in his shoulder cracking. That was seconds before the gunshots, before he heard his guards fall to the floor and felt the sting of hot bullets penetrating his skin.

  “You two get down there and make sure ADAM is secured. You come with me. She’s definitely here!” were the last words Jacques heard Captain Lawrence Crowe mutter as he fell to the floor, his face flat down, the cat inside hissing at the pain of the bullets lodged in his back and legs.

  When the soldiers had stepped over their bodies, leaving them for dead, Jacques did the only thing he figured he could do. He spoke into his com link, taking short shallow breaths because that’s all the pain would allow. If there’d been medical assistance close to him, a curandero, or even a human doctor, he might have a shot at living. Shadow Shifters healed at a much faster rate than humans, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be mortally wounded, it didn’t mean they couldn’t die. And without any treatment, he would surely die, there was no doubt. But that wasn’t the issue right now, his situation was what it was. His duty, however, would continue until he took his last breath.

  So he spoke as quickly as he could. “Crowe’s on the … property…” He gasped, waited a second, and continued. “Looking for … ADAM … Dawn … armed. The … bastard … is … armed,” Jacques informed every shifter that was on the secure frequency. Then he dropped his head, heard the deep, muted roar of his cat, and succumbed to the pain, to the darkness, to the enemy.

  Chapter 14

  Bas had been just about to close the door to the SUV after Priya climbed into the third seat of his Tahoe. His plan had been to see the vehicle safely off Perryville grounds. Riddick, one of the senior members of the blue team was in the driver’s seat, while Dyson and the veterinarian rode in the second seat. The moment he’d realized Perryville was under attack he’d ordered Dyson to his rooms to gather all the backup information regarding the resort, the Mountain Zone Faction, and everything they’d obtained from Comastaz. The young shifter seemed competent enough when he’d told Bas that it had already been done and his computers were not only equipped with X’s self-destruct mechanism should they ever be hacked into, but that he’d developed his own firewalls to take down every computer throughout the entire resort. There would be only two people able to retrieve the information—Dyson and Bas.

  Riddick would take them all to the underground shelter each Faction Leader had been ordered to have constructed within the last year. At the time, Bas and Cole, the Central Zone Faction Leader, had thought it a bit of overkill since they all had a main headquarters that they figured would be the safe haven for all of their shifters. As he looked up at the building, wondering exactly which room the voice on the com link was transmitting from, Bas noted the smoke coming from broken windows, the gunshots that still sounded, and figured the underground shelter had been a good idea after all.

  Closing the door, Bas walked slowly, replaying what the voice, what Jacques Germain, his longtime friend and second-in-command, had said. When he was at the front of the truck and Riddick no doubt expected him to climb into the front seat next to him, he pounded a fist twice on the hood of the vehicle, nodding his head, telling Riddick he should take off. The shifter did not hesitate, but put the vehicle in drive and turned directly onto the lawn, avoiding all the military vehicles that otherwise blocked the driveway.

  “What’s your location?” Bas asked, breaking into a slow jog, heading back toward the building. The place that had consumed a huge part of his life over the past years.

  “Germain, what’s your location?” he asked again, his heart pounding with each second of silence.

  “… suite,” was all that came through the connection, a weak voice that changed Bas’s jog into a full-fledged run as he moved with the sole purpose of saving his best friend’s life.

  * * *

  Ezra grew absolutely still, pulling his mouth from Jewel’s, feeling his cat’s instant anger at that movement. She’d been slightly resistant when he’d first pulled her close, but the moment their shared heat combined with the atmosphere, it was nothing short of combustible. She’d locked her h
ands at the base of his neck, holding his head so he couldn’t retract. He hadn’t wanted to, not at the time. He’d wanted nothing more than to sink into the delicious warmth of her mouth, to inhale and catch every fiber of the floral scent that encased her today.

  His body had been rock hard, wanting, no, needing, so much more than just this kiss. He needed to be inside her, deep, buried to the hilt, locking his body inside hers as his release shot straight to her womb, claiming that spot for himself and no other. It was all about claiming this woman, he’d conceded not too long ago. Whatever he had to do, however he had to do it, he needed her to be his, or rather he needed everyone around them to know that she was his.

  Did that mean she was his mate? He wasn’t sure and at this point didn’t care. All he knew for certain was that the shield he’d thought would protect him from debilitating memories had just shifted, leaving him vulnerable to something much more dangerous than the shifter vixen that had tormented him and his brother in the deep recesses of the jungle.

  “Repeat,” he said, pressing his right hand to his ear as the connection was coming through with lots of static. “Repeat, goddammit!” he yelled, knowing he’d probably heard correctly the first time.

  Jewel stared down at him quizzically. “Who are you talking to?”

  He shook his head at her, pointing to his ear as she eased off him, looking as if she knew exactly what he was doing. She scooted even farther across the seat, folding her arms around her midsection but keeping her eyes on his.

  “Repeat last message,” Ezra said once more.

  This time, the voice he heard was from a different shifter.

  “Three down up here,” Bas said, his voice solemn, strained. “Jacques is down.”

  Ezra’s lips were ready to form the word “repeat” one more time, but he knew that would be futile. He’d heard correctly the first time.