Cravings (Fierce Hearts)

Avon, Massachusetts

Copyright © 2015 by Lynn Crandall.
All rights reserved.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

Published by

Crimson Romance

an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A.

www.crimsonromance.com

ISBN 10: 1-4405-8937-2

ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8937-9

eISBN 10: 1-4405-8938-0

eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8938-6

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

Cover art © iStockphoto.com/Ladida

To Mike, for always being there in just the right way.

I owe a big thank you to the people who offered support, expert information, and valuable input. So thank you to my technology expert, Jamie Kurtz, my medical and drug expert, Carol Scott, my expert in human emotions and relations, Lynne McLewin, my beta reader HiDee Ekstrom, and all my editors at Crimson Romance, especially Jess Verdi.

• Title Page
  
• Copyright Page
  
• Dedication
  
• Acknowledgments
  
• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• About the Author
  
• More from This Author
  
• Also Available
  

If it weren’t for her parents—correction,
fake
parents—trying to take over her life, maybe even trying to kill her, Kennedy would burst out laughing. The situation was all so surreal.

Laughter would be better than giving in to the urge to curl up into a ball and cry. What good would that do?

So she sat there in Lara Monroe’s kitchen wearing her best stoic face and not saying a word while Lara, Tizzy Sands, Asia Blue, and Asher Monroe, members of the were-lynx colony that rescued her two weeks ago from William Carter Enterprises’ drug research project, chatted about the handling of her day for her. She suspected they meant well; they just wanted to keep her safe and away from her adoptive parents. Muscles throughout her body tensed at the idea that they didn’t trust her. But the truth lying in the bottom of her stomach reminded her that from the first moment they’d released her from the cage at William Carter Enterprises, she hadn’t trusted them, either.

That day two weeks ago was the day everything she’d known as her life crumbled beneath her. When she’d learned her real parents were not dead and had not abandoned her either—both lies from her fake parents. When she’d learned the colony leader, Casey Mitchell, might be her brother. Yes, they were both black, but that didn’t mean they shared DNA. Heck, before her fake parents had handed her over to William Carter’s experiment, she hadn’t even known other were-lynxes existed. She’d been told she was one of a kind, a lone freak. But there were more freaks, at least a whole colony of them. And maybe none of them were freaks, but just another species. For a brief moment after her rescue she’d been at once shocked and encouraged by the discoveries. She wasn’t sure what was the truth. At least the one about Casey, her sibling or not her sibling, would be cleared up as soon as the results from their DNA testing returned. As for his colony, so far, the eight were-cats were very real and very interesting, and each one had their own special ability beyond their preternatural senses, just like she did.

But the whispered voices when she was out of the room and the pointed looks they shared between them clued her in that they were assessing if she was genuinely trustworthy or a plant, gathering information to report back to The Nexus Group, a group of people who were interested only in acquiring more power and more riches, regardless of the pain and chaos they caused. The group her parents belonged to.

Hurt stung her heart at the situation. The colony cats didn’t know how she’d longed for a better life away from her parents and among people who would actually care about her. She was assessing them, too. It was the prudent thing to do. Things were very confusing, but so far, other than treating her like an object, they hadn’t given her any reason to want to leave, especially not to return to her old, unbearable life.

“Kennedy, did you hear me?” Tizzy poked her once then smiled, her big eyes the color of cognac peeking out from the blond bangs that swept across her forehead. She tossed her head, and her short hair gleamed in the sunlight slanting in through the kitchen window.

“Oh, sorry. I was zoning out.”

Smiles, understanding and sweet, came her way from the three female were-lynxes. Asher just stared at her. Which was okay, because all the smiles made her stomach tighten.

In the two weeks since her rescue from the insane project aimed at turning were-lynxes into warriors and headed by the now-dead kingpin of The Nexus Group, William Carter, she’d gotten so much understanding and sweetness she dripped with it. She knew she should be more grateful. They’d been so kind. They’d even taken her shopping to buy a new wardrobe since hers was left behind. But in her whole life, kindness and caring had been absent. Memories of her adoptive parents’ idea of showing their love slivered through her mind, making her shiver. Memories of them forcing her to stand in a corner for hours, all in the name of helping her reach her potential. The things they made her do growing up were done out of love, they’d said. The training, the fasting, and harsh treatment were good for her, they’d said. And finally she’d come to understand that even gestures that seemed soft and fuzzy would be followed with something painful. Soft and fuzzy was just a way to catch her off guard and administer pain. So was it any wonder she felt at once skeptical and appreciative about the colony’s treatment of her?

“That sounds fine. I’ll spend the day with Tizzy in her elementary classroom.”

“Right. I’ve already cleared it with my principal. With your bachelor’s degree, I was able to get you certified quickly as an aide, so you’ll fit right in.” Tizzy slanted her head and beamed. “It will be fun having you there.” Tizzy was a beigeish lynx who also had a very dramatic, very enthusiastic human side.

Kennedy gave a smile back but couldn’t muster much enthusiasm. Her fingers began following a familiar pattern of touching each one to her thumb, first one direction then back again. It kicked in without conscious thought as a response to stress. Just as did her counting. Focusing on the number of crackers in a bowl when she was nine had helped prevent her fear of lack of food later from overwhelming her completely.

Asia rubbed her arm soothingly. “This is a hard time, I know. But we’re just trying to keep you safe.”

Kennedy shook her head. “Oh, I know. I appreciate all you’ve done, all of you.” She lowered her gaze to the table. It was the truth, nothing to hide there. But still, the raw reality of her life throbbed through her painfully as if she were still living in that life, under her adoptive parents’ thumb, being prepared to help The Nexus Group expand its power. As before, living with her fake parents, she was being handled, like an object. An object with no last name, because the one she’d known for all of her twenty-two years of life was fake. An object that was told how her day would be spent and only as she needed to know. No chances were taken that she would have an opportunity to share information with the enemy—Jonathon and Kathryn Novak, her so-called parents, and other members of The Nexus Group, the group everyone in the colony wanted more information about from her. Her special cellphone, the one her parents had complete control over, had been taken from her when she’d been crated by TNG. It had not been returned to her in the rescue. The colony didn’t want her near one or near a computer. Like TNG people, the colony was keeping her isolated, at least until she gave them information.

She felt their frustration that she couldn’t fill them in. She’d never been told much, and parts of her memory were like dead computer cells—dark and nonfunctional.

She picked up her breakfast dishes and joined the others in cleaning up. Then she went to her room and closed the door behind her. She glanced around, near-panic seeping through her veins. This handling was all too familiar. Different in that these people showed compassion. But so close to her old life that she couldn’t breathe. She needed air and right now.

Kennedy quietly slid open the window, grateful Lara’s apartment was located on the first floor, climbed over, and jumped the short distance to the ground.

Her skin itched, and the longing to shimmer—to change into her lynx form—pushed up her adrenaline several notches. The urgency in her gut sent her racing down the street, past the line of apartments, past the strip mall, until finally she found an alley to disappear into while she made the transition. She pulled at her sweatshirt, then stopped. She caught a whiff of another were-cat.

“What are you up to, Kennedy?” It was Asher Monroe, a were-bobcat who was one of the colony cats and Lara’s brother, standing at the opening of the alley.

She sagged to the ground, clothes still intact. She watched him shuffle toward her and with little effort tamped down the adrenaline surge she’d been running on. She was all about control of her body and its mechanisms and emotions, thanks to her training with her fake parents and her handlers with The Nexus Group.

Asher’s blond hair caught a glimmer of sunlight, and suddenly, it was all she could focus on. The mussed-up look fit his devil-may-care expression. His broad shoulders and muscled biceps under his jacket spoke volumes about his fit physique. She might be numb inside, but she wasn’t dead, and her rapid heartbeat proved it. “I’m not up to anything, you idiot. I just needed some air.”

He looked down at her, his eyes a startling, pale yellow rimmed in brown, and chuckled. “I get that.” He squatted near her, not so close that her invasion alarm went off but not so far that he felt impersonal. “The colony can crawl down your neck without knowing it, but they mean you no harm.”

She sent him a glare. “What are you, the sentinel? Making sure the subject doesn’t escape?” Her remark landed hard, she could see that in his eyes, but she wanted him to know no one was pulling the wool over her eyes. They didn’t trust her any more than she trusted them.

Asher shook his head and pursed his lips. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you,” he stated rather than asked. “It should be obvious to you that these people are only protecting you and exercising caution. It’s prudent to do so. A skilled lynx knows that.”

The dried autumn leaves in the alley suddenly lifted on a cold breeze and whirled around briefly before scattering at their feet. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you the designated tracker?”

“No. But we are keeping an eye on you. The Nexus Group is a nasty bunch of people. Our colony got involved to protect the animals the group was hurting through their experiments aimed at developing a drug that would turn were-animals into warriors, and we’re going to see this situation through to the end. Lives, not just yours, are at stake. The colony is going to make sure The Nexus Group’s plans don’t go off well. We’re the good guys. You’ll find that out. I just hope you’re not on the wrong side of right when you do.”

He stood and offered her a hand. She stared at it for a solid minute, and he waited. Silently, she took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. Walking beside him, a sense of calm settled over her. It stood in stark contrast to the flat sense of control she was accustomed to as her inner state. The calm soothed her as nothing ever had before. It penetrated her, relaxing her muscles and prompting deep, even breaths. This lull should have set off alarms, warning her to beware. Letting down her guard had never led to anything but emotional and physical pain. She’d nearly lost her ability to relax and just be while living with her parents and enduring the training that was her life.