Hunger's Mate (27 page)

His body vibrated with pulses of heat. His nostrils flared, fists clenched as he inhaled deeply, searching for her scent as he headed into the bathroom. All he could think about was her, all he could see were her eyes, the vibrant tint of her hair; he could taste her essence on his tongue, felt the wetness of her surrounding his lips.

She'd left while he'd slept. Exhaustion had overtaken him like it never had before so that his last memory was of coming while buried deep inside of her. Then there was the dream, the visit from his worst nightmares, and now, there was only the beast. And the beast was very angry.

He yanked at the bathroom door, heard it crack on its hinges, and stepped through until he was facing the two shifters again. His vision grew blurry and the room tilted a bit, his breath coming faster and faster, words echoing in his mind.

It is her. It is her.

Ezra had heard it. The cat had sensed it. The beast wanted to control it, to control her. Jewel would not be controlled, not ever again she'd told him.

She is your lifeline.

“Jewel,” he whispered just before Syfon stuck a needle in his neck and he fell to the floor.

*   *   *

“I told you to come here and you deliberately disobeyed me!” Bas yelled at Ezra, who now sat at a stainless-steel table in one of the highly air-conditioned rooms at Rendezvous.

“I had it under control,” Ezra said in a low raspy voice.

“And that's why she's gone now?” the FL grumbled. “That's why my fucking resort is in ashes and my best friend is dead!”

“I didn't kill him!” Ezra roared back. “And neither did Jewel so if you're thinking of letting those words fall from your lips … don't!”

Ezra felt woozy from the tranquilizer they'd given him.

Bas slammed both palms down on the table just inches from where Ezra's hands had landed. Bas leaned in closer, his cool gray eyes like flint as they glared at Ezra.

“I know precisely who killed Jacques. Just like you know where Jewel is. I'm just wondering when you're going to get off your ass and do what needs to be done,” he said through clenched teeth.

“That's what I was doing,” was Ezra's heated retort. “Until you sent your goons to drug me and drag me back here.”

Bas was shaking his head. “No. That's not what you were doing. You were letting that dark smoke the shaman blew into your mind take over.”

Ezra grew absolutely still, his skin crawling, eyes stilling on the leader.

“Yes, I said what everyone in here's thinking. And before you decide to fight me, know that there will definitely be a fight. One that will waste a hell of a lot of time, which we do not have if we want to stop that bastard Crowe and save Jewel and her father.”

Ezra didn't like the words coming out of Bas's mouth. He didn't like the fact that the worst time of his life had just been thrown in his face as if it meant nothing more than a paragraph inserted into a file that every shifter with access to the database could see. And he damn sure didn't like Bas's presumption that he wasn't taking care of business.

He rose instantly, albeit slowly, his head still a little foggy. He moved around the table, keeping one leg against the cool metal for added support until he faced the FL once again.

“When this is over, I'm kicking your ass,” he told him.

Bas shook his head. “Not until I kick yours for being a stupid S.O.B.”

Ezra's chest rose, his fists clenching at his sides as he took another step. Bas came closer as well, the man absolutely serious about the fight that seemed to be brewing between them.

“You're a Shadow Shifter guard,” Bas said, his brow furrowed, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he paused. “A leader in the Assembly Leader's staff. You train other shifters to fight for our cause and to be strong, loyal shifters. And yet you can't even do something as simple as claim your mate.”

Ezra reached out immediately, grabbing the lapels of Bas's dress shirt. “Watch your fucking mouth!”

“Or what? You're going to do something to me, Preston? What are you going to do to me that you won't get your ass out there and do to Lawrence Crowe? She's your mate, dammit, claim her and put a stop to this bullshit because I've got an army of Shadows ready to take Crowe and his prototypes down. All I need is for you to get Jewel out of the line of fire.”

And only he could do that, Ezra thought with a growl. She was his mate. If Bas or another Shadow went in to get her, Ezra would never feel man enough to claim her, he'd never be certain that he could protect what was his. Just as he hadn't protected Eli.

He gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might actually break free of his gums. The cat inside roared voraciously, pacing impatiently as the darkness hovered on the sidelines, waiting for Ezra's defeat. It wanted to control him, and so far it had. But just as Dagar said, Jewel was the one. She was the female that could save him from that darkness, she could save him from the self-imposed hell he'd caged himself into.

“Get out of my way,” he said finally, pushing past the FL and heading to the door. He was glad that his feet and legs got the message that they were going to get their mate and didn't give out beneath him. Bas would no doubt have received great pleasure in watching his face hit the floor.

*   *   *

An hour later Ezra had showered and was wearing fresh jeans and a black T-shirt that barely allowed his skin to breathe. On his feet were heavy steel-toed boots. He walked into the small room with Dyson and Bas and sat down in the chair at the end of the table.

“The herbs the shaman gave you contained damiana,” Bas began. “It's a drug that originated in the Gungi—”

“We've been over all this before,” Ezra muttered.

“It's what created that darkness in you and enhanced your senses. It's the key to finding your mate and bringing down Crowe.”

Dyson cleared his throat and continued where Bas left off. “I've been running some programs, using the information Ary Delgado uploaded to the database about the drug and its effects. The purified form of damiana has gone through some tribal blessing process before being administered. Nobody really knows how that works since none of us are shamans. At any rate, Ary's research concluded that the purified version versus the unpurified version of the drug, which is what Ary was given in the Gungi and what we suspect ADAM may have been given, has less permanent reactions. It's more likely that the mixture you received contained purified damiana, which may also be why the manifestations of your emotions on the surface don't appear as uncontrollable as the victims of that savior drug, which was mixed with unpurified damiana. It's still making you pretty angry, edgy, and lethal though.”

Ezra growled his response.

“It also gave you extrasensory power as it mixed with your shifter DNA. That's how you can find Jewel. You've had sex with her,” he said, coughing and looking away from Ezra momentarily. “That means your mating has already begun. You've exchanged bodily fluids so a part of her is always with you now. You can use that to search for her, to figure out where she is.”

“I'm not a physic, I can't just close my eyes and visualize where she is,” Ezra argued.

“You may be able to, or at least get a feel for where she might go.”

“She went to Crowe. He has her father so she would go where he was to get him. I know that for a fact,” Ezra told him. “And that's without any extrasensory crap.”

“There are two addresses listed for Crowe,” Dyson said. “I found them online.”

“So we'll check them both,” Ezra said, standing, ready to leave. His temples had been throbbing incessantly since he'd awakened in that cool, antiseptic-smelling room down the hall. Tereza had assured him the low-dosage tranquilizer that he'd been given would not have any lasting effects. Yet, hours after the drug had entered his system, he still felt like someone was driving a syringe through his skull.

“Not just yet,” Dyson intervened, his voice a little louder, more authoritative than it should have been considering who he was in the room with. “I mean, um, I have more information,” the young shifter corrected.

“Proceed,” Bas told him. “And make it quick.”

Dyson cleared his throat. “This address belongs to a Lilah Melrose. She works at Comastaz and, according to the time clock, everybody at the lab is supposed to punch in when they enter and when they leave. She hasn't been at work for a couple of weeks.”

“So what,” Ezra stated, his irritation growing quicker.

“So, Crowe's personnel file lists the same address. His pay stubs go to that address.”

“He's living with this female,” Bas stated.

“Or that's what he wants everyone to think,” Ezra added.

“So where would he keep the girl's father? At his real house or at the house leased to this female?” Dyson asked.

“If he were planning to kill the father and…” Bas's words were cut short by the loudness of Ezra's growl.

“They're at that female's address. He'd want to cover his tracks.” This time he didn't wait for any more words. He was at the door when he looked over his shoulder and said, “Text me both addresses, the female's first.” He looked to Bas to say something else but Bas nodded and finished his thoughts.

“I'll send teams to both locations. You go claim your mate and when you give the signal we'll move in,” the FL stated, his face still grim, shoulders squared as if he were ready for a battle.

Ezra wasn't going to give him one. Bas had endured a substantial loss tonight and here he was standing in front of Ezra, telling him to go claim his mate, when he could have rightfully gone straight out to kill Crowe and anyone connected to him. So he only nodded to the FL, letting him know that he agreed with the plan and would do his best to follow through accordingly.

 

Chapter 19

The drive to Grand Canyon Village would normally have taken two and a half hours or less. Today, for Jewel, because hell had officially broken loose in her life, it had taken almost four as she'd had to stop repeatedly to fill up the gas tank. What she thought had been the reliable-looking sedan, and better choice of vehicle, actually had a broken gas meter that kept giving the impression that at any moment she would run out of gas and be stranded on the side of the road.

To make matters worse, she'd been redialing the number Larry had called her from for the past two hours. She wanted to tell him she was on her way, to let him know there was no reason to hurt her father. He hadn't answered, not one freakin' time, and she was about to scream in frustration. And fear.

No, she told herself. That's exactly what Larry wanted to see. He fed off her fear, had all these years he'd basically held her hostage to his money and all that it could afford her father. He was a sick bastard that she'd allowed into her life, no matter that her intentions were honest and pure.

Jewel knew that she was partially to blame. If she hadn't been dancing in that strip club, Larry might not have gotten the impression that she would do anything for money. And if she hadn't been almost broke with a sick father that she'd sworn to her mother she would take care of, she wouldn't have been gyrating against men's rock-hard erections for payment.

She slammed a palm on the steering wheel as she took the next exit that would take her into Grand Canyon Village. She'd only been to this house one time, the day Larry had brought her here.

“It's gorgeous,” Jewel had said the moment she stepped out of the car, lifting her sunglasses and propping them atop her head so she could have an unfettered view.

The cabin was large with its stone chimney and log exterior, the green roof bright against the afternoon sunshine. Trees surrounded the front of the house and she found herself wondering how much land there was and if there were more trees, a back porch with a swing where they could watch sunsets … maybe.

Larry's fingers wrapping tightly around her elbow, pulling her close to him jarred her from that serene thought. That foolish thought, she'd corrected herself. Larry was not her husband and neither was being with him her happily ever after.

“Let's go in, the sun's scorching out here today,” he'd told her before practically dragging her inside.

“I got this place for a steal,” he said once they'd walked through the door, glossy wood floors greeting them.

“You already have two homes, why do you need another one?” she'd asked absently as he'd released her arm. She hadn't hesitated to walk away from him.

“Because I can have whatever I want!” he yelled back.

She whirled around to face him, recognizing instantly the switch in his tone. He was glaring at her, his squared jaw stiff, eyes steely. If she let her gaze linger lower, she'd see that he was rock hard. That's the way it was with him. It seemed violence, anger, everything about his life in the military made him hornier than hell and any time that happened, his attention turned to her full force. He'd never hit or beat her—Jewel figured she should be happy about that fact. But his abuse was still brutal, still painful as it struck with stinging accuracy against her self-esteem and everything else she thought she knew about herself.

“Okay,” she'd said, her voice quieter than it had been before. With a frown directed solely at herself she'd turned away from him again.

Big mistake.

He was behind her in seconds, pushing her against the paneled wall and holding her there. Jewel didn't cry out, she knew better. Screams, tears, fighting back, all spurred him on even more, making the vile things he did to her too much for her to bear and stay conscious. She'd learned that fainting didn't help her situation either. What Larry would do to her awake, he would continue without her being coherent. The perverted bastard.