Predator's Refuge (10 page)

“Easily,” Gabi spat. “He slit their throats while they slept. You know Istvan was the only one of the three of us father trusted. His golden boy. His sick protégé. Istvan kowtowed to him so long, always telling him what he wanted to hear as if he were fucking King Lear. He was the only one with a key to their suite. He lured Father’s guards away on a pretense and then killed our parents. He then visited me in my suite, his knife still dripping blood. We scuffled and I got away. The castle is in an uproar. The tribe is panicking. It was all I could do to disappear the same night.”

“Has he been arrested?” Marci asked.

Anton, his heart heavy, tried to explain. “Marci, my brother will never be arrested or tried for his crimes. You know as well as I do, shifters live under a rule of secrecy. We govern ourselves and police ourselves. The human authorities will not receive word of these murders. And Istvan, being the only one of us in Hungary, he basically controls the shifter authorities. No one from our tribe will go against him. He might as well be a god.”

“But—” she began, her shocked face reflecting her true horror.

“This is not unheard of in our tribe,” Gabi interrupted. “We have a history of ritual killing of the Grand Prince by his son. Because shifters tend to live long lives, certain sons have grown tired of waiting for their chance to rule. One ancient Grand Prince was dismembered by his son as he slept. Another one in the eighteenth century was guillotined by his progeny. He must have had a bit of French in him.”

Her hand flew to her mouth.

“We need to contact someone back home,” Anton said. “To see what’s happening.”

“Good luck,” Gabi replied. “Istvan will see to it that no one speaks of this. You know he never leaves loose ends.”

Anton nodded. It was true.

“And now that our parents are out of the way, our brother will turn his attention to you and me. It’s why I’m here. It’s not safe for either of us in Hungary, brother. Istvan knows our people hate him. He will seek to eliminate every threat to the throne.”

Marci turned to Anton. “I don’t understand why you’re not more shocked. You’re so calm.”

“I am only surprised by one thing, Marci,” he replied in a voice that was much steadier than he felt. “That I didn’t kill my brother and father first. All my life, the need for revenge has driven me almost to madness. I have had visions, nightmares. And in all of them, I kill the Grand Prince in retribution. Living under the threat of committing patricide was so bad I left home, seeking refuge wherever I could, so I would not do these horrible things.”

“Oh, Anton,” she said on a breath, her eyes watering. “Your nightmare.”

He nodded, glad she understood.

Gabi leaned over and touched Marci’s forearm. “Would you be opposed to me staying here for a while, Miss Lennox, until my brother and I decide what should be done?”

“Of course you can stay. As long as you want.”

Anton looked at her and knew his own face must reflect his own wonder now. She was incredible. Kind and giving and strong. Like so few people he’d known. And this miserable tale had made her wretched. First April’s accident, then this. Poor Marci must be ready to run away.

And yet, she didn’t. She pulled out her walkie-talkie and clicked the button. “Sandy? It’s me. We have a special guest staying with us indefinitely. Gabi Gaspar. Put him in Cabin 15, please, and make sure he gets the VIP package. No charge.”

“Marci…” Gabi interrupted.

She silenced him with a kind smile and turned off the walkie-talkie. “It’s done and you’re welcome here. Stay as long as you want. My boss would agree. Sandy at the front desk will take you to your cabin whenever you’re ready.” She held her pretty chin up and blinked back tears. “Here, we take care of our family.”

“I don’t know what to say.” He turned to Anton. “This lynx has some tiger in her, doesn’t she, brother?”

Anton smiled, unable to drag his gaze from Marci, and completely unable to regulate the feverish hiccupping of his heart. His tiger roared its approval and readied itself, knowing the man who housed him was growing weaker by the second where the lynx woman was concerned.

No matter how much he tried to attribute it to his sex-starved tiger, her hungry lynx, or the universe in general, he couldn’t deny he wanted Marci. And with each passing moment, it grew clear that it wasn’t just about wanting to get his rocks off with her.

Fuck it. His damn heart had become involved now.

* * * *

After helping his brother get settled in Cabin 15, Anton and Gabi talked for a long time. Gabi had explained how he’d suspected Istvan’s treachery for some time, but talked himself out of believing it. Anton couldn’t say he blamed him. They’d grown up together in that castle, and both had felt the harsh sting of their parents’ discipline. They’d also experienced cruel taunting from their younger brother, who saw their attempts at peace as weakness. At a young age, Istvan had understood the family dynamic and joined their father’s camp, eager to prove himself to their parent. His need for approval led him down a dark and frightening path.

From the moment he was able to call on his tiger, Istvan had spent his days bullying and torturing those smaller than him. He’d learned his lessons at their father’s knee, seeing how intimidation won the day. Father egged him on, making Istvan his muscle, giving him tasks Gabi and Anton would not perform. Istvan had had no trouble eliminating Father’s enemies. It always struck Anton that his youngest brother’s favorite activity was cornering a foe, shifting into his massive tiger self, and sinking his unforgiving teeth into his throat.

Istvan adored watching people die before him, soaking up their fear like a vampire.

Thank God Gabi, a formidable tiger himself, had gotten out of there alive. He knew he must ask him how he’d bested Istvan, but decided to leave that for another day.

Once he left Gabi’s cabin, he made a pit stop at the edge of Lake Gemini and stared into its chilled waters. A flock of Canada geese frolicked in the crystalline lake, honking at each other in their funny language, enjoying what might be one of their last dips in their northern home before they headed south. He envied their simple lives, so free of drama and heartache. Being a shape-shifter had its merits, but the residents of the real animal kingdom had innocence down to a fine art.

He knew he should be mourning his parents, but found he couldn’t. Never having experienced their love in any fashion, it was difficult to drum up sorrow now they were gone. He knew it would hit him like a raging fury eventually, but he wasn’t ready to travel to that dark place just yet.

Instead, he decided to get back to work to distract himself. He spent an hour reviewing his class plans for the next couple of days, but Marci kept ringing him to see if he needed anything. Despite the situation, he smiled every time he heard her worried voice on the phone.

She cared. It made him feel better than he deserved, and more than a little excited.

He felt even better when she popped in on him at the office, bearing sweets.

“Here,” she’d said, thrusting a small box in his direction, her cheeks pink. “You need to keep your strength up, and in my world, that means more sugar.” She stood in an awkward stance, one leg wound around her other. “I would have brought Maltesers, but they can be an acquired taste to some.”

Wanting to smile like fucking Mickey Mouse with a new piece of cheese, he’d instead bitten the inside of his cheek and frowned at the box. “What’s in there?” He poked at the cardboard.

She’d dashed forward and opened it. “Whoopie pies.” She shrugged her pretty shoulders. “I bake when I’m stressed.”

He almost choked on his tongue. “Whoopie pies?” He’d never seen those particular cakes before and only knew one translation of the word
whoopie
. “You mean sex pies?”

Her machine-gun laugh could have been a romantic ballad, it rang so sweetly in his ear. “Just eat one.”

He did. And then he ate another, his eyes almost rolling back in his head at the decadent taste. “Dear mother of God, these
are
sex pies.”

She’d watched him eat three of the buttery treats before she left the mentoring office, refusing to eat any herself because she said she’d already sampled too much icing while baking them. And after she’d left, he’d dragged his finger through the icing in a fourth pie, licking it, thinking of her.

He didn’t know what to make of this Marci Lennox, but his senses were on hyper-alert every time he so much as caught a whiff of her divine scent, as delicious as the buttercream in her whoopie sex pies.

A little later, he checked in on April, and was happy to see the hare girl was healing and recharging. He sat with her and her parents for a while and did his best to assure them her safety was top priority at the resort.

Once he’d visited her, he headed over to the security office. Killian Moon was already ensconced in there with his buddies, and there were a few police officers from the mainland force, all shifters, he’d learned. “Any updates on April’s attack?”

One of the officers responded. “There’s no evidence of foul play. We’re pretty sure this was a case of teenaged hormones running amok. One of the bigger shifters was probably out for a run and mistook April for a real hare. It happens.”

Anton shook his head. “But she was out in human form. She wasn’t playing bunny at the time. This can’t be right.”

Killian threw him a strangely sour look. “Look, we’ve got this, Princess. Don’t worry. Why don’t you go head up the dodgeball game with the teens?”

Even though Killian turned his back on him, Anton strode forward and made himself part of the group. “I want to know what’s happening to fix this situation. I’m one of the mentors here and I need to be informed. There’s no way this was just an accident.”

“We have enough people working on the case already,” Killian argued. “Too many chefs in the kitchen. Leave it to those of us who understand life at the resort best.”

If this blind little shit had been part of his father’s court, he’d have already been punished. Suddenly in the mood to tar and feather someone, Anton choked back his anger and poked Killian’s shoulder. “A moment, please.”

Rolling his eyes, the jaguar shifter joined him at the other side of the office. Anton faced him head-on and looked him square in the eyes, whispering, “What the fuck is your issue with me, Moon?”

“Who says I have an issue?”

“The sneer on your face every time you see me says you have an issue. Now spit it out like a man.”

Killian’s bright animal eyes shone under his blond curls and the pulse point at his temple throbbed. “Okay. Fine. I’ll tell you.” He inhaled and exhaled. “When Marci’s world fell apart, I was there for her. I’ve been her friend for years and she relies on me. She finally managed to clear her head, and then you showed up. You wanna know what I think? I’ll tell you. I don’t want you spending time with Marci. I don’t like how she looks at you, and I certainly don’t like how you look at her. There. I’ve said it.”

Well, fucking shit. He’d known the other man was after her, just from a glance. Deep inside him, his tiger faced off against Killian’s jaguar. Already it wasn’t pretty. Yes, tigers might be the biggest of the cat family, but Anton knew full well jaguars had their own admirable skill set. In the wild, jaguars possessed the most powerful jaws and teeth of any cat, with bites so vicious they could pierce skulls. Killian looked about ready to pierce his.

Still, Anton was no cute kitty cat. And the issue with Istvan was already making his blood boil. If Moon didn’t watch himself, he’d be on the receiving end of some very misplaced resentment. “I will look at Marci however I like,” he threatened with a smile. “And I will be happy to receive any looks she sends my way.”

Killian advanced. “Is that right?”

“You heard me. You don’t tell me what to do. And you have no right to discuss Marci like this.”

Moon’s eyes grew twice their size. “Don’t I?” He let out a laugh. “I think sleeping with her gives me that right!”

The office door creaked. Anton turned and saw Marci standing there, red in the face. All was silent in the office as she gawked at Moon. “Killian,” she said flatly. “I trusted you.” Without meeting Anton’s gaze, she turned on her heel and left.

As much as he wanted to toss Moon across the room, Anton ran after her. Of course, he had to. He was beginning to think his legs were created to follow her.

* * * *

She tore a path right down to the dock area, conscious of the fact Anton was right behind her. She ignored his calls and couldn’t think for her humiliation, made worse because Anton had been there to witness it.

The next time she saw Killian Moon she was going to string him up from the flagpole by his Calvins. The big blond twerp.

Marci marched onto the dock, mumbling a stiff hello to a couple of the fishermen gathered there. She walked to the end of the wooden structure and whipped off her favorite charcoal patent pumps. Tucking her skirt between her legs, she got into one of the vacant boats and plunked herself down on a padded bench. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the horizon.

She felt Anton’s presence before she saw him. The boat dipped under his weight and wobbled as he made his way to her. She dared to look at him as he sat next to her on the bench and was surprised at his expression. She wasn’t sure what she would have seen in his gaze, whether he would have given her another of his imperial sniffs or just plain old disdain, but she hadn’t expected a bright smile to set her heart fluttering.

He reached for her hand and laughed quietly, almost as if to himself. “Please tell me Killian Moon’s penis doesn’t match his inflated ego.”

Marci burst out laughing and covered her face with her hands. “What was I thinking, sleeping with him? We were friends. I could always rely on Killian for his calm head, and now he’s acting as if he’s got sunstroke,” she croaked into the shelter of her hands. As her shoulders shook with relief and insane glee, Anton threw a casual arm around them and pulled her closer. “Do you really want to talk about his inflated penis?”

“No.” He winked. “But if it’s impressive enough, maybe he and I will talk later.”