Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1 (33 page)

BOOK: Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1
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Where was Warrick? Her heart hurt at the idea he might be wounded. She couldn’t even consider the possibility that he was anything but unconscious right now.

The door to the building loomed closer and she saw her future changing. Saw herself and her father locked in a small room, her father forced to create a drug that could destroy the shifter species.

Her vision grew hazy, redder. The fear inside her began to shift to anger, expanding, clawing to get out. A snarl built low in her throat and she dug her nails into her captor’s wrist, trying to get him to release her.

A savage roar behind them was the only warning she and the man carrying her received before they were sent sprawling to the floor.

Sienna scrambled to her feet, quickly distancing herself from the flash of fur and fangs on human flesh.

The gray wolf wasn’t Warrick, but he was one of the agents.

“Wait!” the man who’d been trying to take her screamed, terror in his voice. “What are you—”

The rest of his words ended in a gurgle of pain. Of death. Sienna rolled away from her captor, her stomach roiling.

Another man’s scream tore through the air. High pitched and laced with terror. Then snarls and the sound of teeth snapping. There was another wolf off in the shadows, fighting someone else.

“Sienna!”

She spun to her left and with a sob launched herself into her dad’s arms.

Tears filled her eyes as she clung to him. “You’re okay. How did you—”

“Shh, I’m just fine, honey.” Kevin Peters wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tightly. “Warrick arrived to assist me just in time. I do believe at this moment he’s severing my captor’s head from his shoulders.”

Warrick! Oh God, Warrick was alive. Relief slammed through her so hard her legs buckled and she fell weakly into her father’s embrace with a sob.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Relief spilled through her at having her dad back and at the fact that the man she loved wasn’t dead. The emotion was strong enough to block the carnage around them from her mind.

And just as quickly as chaos had filled the building, it went shockingly silent again. It was enough to bring her back to the present and the situation at hand.

Sienna pulled away and glanced around the dim building. The wolf who’d attacked her captor padded toward her, then shifted back into human form.

Rafferty.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Not a problem. Are you okay?” he asked gruffly, his face etched with concern.

“I’m fine. Are they—”

“Dead. Both of them.”

Nausea rolled through her, but Sienna nodded and bit her lip.

“It’s no more than they deserve, Sienna.”

“I know. I just don’t understand.” She watched as her dad walked back toward the dead bodies of their captors. “I thought they just wanted the jump drive.”

“They wanted you,” Warrick said tersely from her right.

Hearing his voice, knowing he was human again, she turned with a gasp and flung herself into his arms.

“They always wanted you,” he muttered, holding her tight and stroking a hand down her back. “I knew it was too fucking easy.”

“I thought you were…oh God. I didn’t want to believe it. I refused to believe it.” Sienna swallowed against the large lump in her throat. “But what about the other agents? Are they okay?”

“Just knocked out it looks like,” Rafferty grunted. “They’ll come around.”

Warrick pulled back from her and glanced around the building, his scowl deepening. “We need cleanup on this. ASAP, because I’m going to be shocked as all hell if no one called the local police, with all the ruckus we made.”

Rafferty nodded. “Agreed. I’ll call for a cleanup crew. It’s a bloody mess in here. Excuse the pun.”

Sienna wasn’t even tempted to crack a smile, she was still too far on edge and couldn’t find the slightest bit of humor in the situation.

Of course, this kind of scenario could very well be commonplace to these agents by now. Maybe they used humor to diffuse the tension and horror they sometimes dealt with.

Her gaze drifted around the darkness and she half expected more bad guys to come flying out of the shadows. Like a video game where they just keep flinging more monsters in front of your path.

Warrick caught her hand, his gaze searching hers. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Her head moved back and forth in a jerky denial, and for a moment she was morbidly tempted to slide her gaze to the motionless body of the man who’d tried to drag her out of the building. But she knew the sight would probably bring up the contents of her stomach.

Thank God Rafferty had killed him before the man could take her. If the men had captured her and her father, good Lord, she didn’t even want to imagine the horror that could have resulted. It all made sense now. Her father would never have helped them, even with his own life threatened. But threaten his daughter’s…

A shudder ran through her and she swallowed with difficulty. Her stomach clenched, this time almost with pain.

“We don’t have much time,” Warrick murmured, his fingers tightening. “I need you to go outside with your dad, take one of the vans and head straight back to the hotel. Can you do that for me, baby?”

She gave a stiff nod, and regretted it when her head began to pound again. More than anything she wanted to curl into his arms again, feel the safety in his embrace. Absorb his strength and replenish her own. But that would be pretty damn selfish of her.

Warrick pressed the keys into her hand, but didn’t let go immediately. His gaze softened and she saw hesitation in his gaze.

“Donovan,” Rafferty’s voice cut sharply through the quiet. “Hilliard’s not coming around. I’m going to need help getting him out of here.”

He wanted to stay and comfort her. Sienna could see the internal conflict in his eyes, knew that he was torn between staying with her and helping his fellow agents. And the realization stole her breath away.

Her heart pinched as she realized fully just how much Warrick had done for her. Time and time again. The sacrifices he’d made since rescuing her in the lab, and would continue to make if she didn’t stop him.

Sienna pulled her hand free and stepped back from Warrick. She glanced over at her dad, who still stood in the shadows, staring at the dead captors.

“Go,” she said, a bit numb now, and turned away. “We’ll be fine.”

“Sienna.”

She froze, but didn’t look over her shoulder.

“Be careful.”

Tears burned her eyes, but she gave another short nod before striding off to find her father.

She knew where they needed to go, and it wasn’t the hotel.

 

 

Warrick’s glance slid over the empty waterfront building and satisfaction slid through him as the last of the P.I.A. cleanup crew departed into the thick shadows of night.

“Looks pretty damn good.” Hilliard, his wounds apparently healed, approached him from behind and gave a small sigh. “Don’t think anyone would realize there was a bloodbath that went down in here an hour ago.”

No, they wouldn’t. The interior of the building looked just as abandoned and insipid as it had hours ago. The only incongruity being a floor that nearly sparkled from being cleaned. But there were no body parts, pieces of flesh or bloodstains anywhere.

Gruesome stuff. But, occasionally, a reality in their line of work.

“I need to head back to the hotel to see Sienna,” he said warily, turning to glance at the other agent. “How are the others?”

Hilliard shrugged and pursed his lips. “Fully recovered. Quinton and Larson are heading back to check on the ferals, and Rafferty is going to take the jump drive over to Sienna and her father so they can start working on a cure.”

“Good. The ferals need all help they can get and I have no doubt that Kevin Peters will be able to give it to them.” Warrick glanced over at Hilliard, his gaze narrowed. “I’m surprised you’re still here. What’s up?”

Warrick had volunteered to be the last one out, making sure everything was pretty much the way they had found it. He’d thought he was alone until Hilliard had appeared behind him.

“This isn’t easy for me, Donovan.” Hilliard shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed, his gaze sliding away to a corner in the building. “I’ve been asked to bring you in to talk to the elders.”

“The elders want to see me?”
Jesus.
He hadn’t seen this coming. Not so soon anyway. Warrick struggled not to show any reaction, but figured the blood that slowly seeped from his face betrayed him.

“Yeah, the call came in about twenty minutes ago. It’s why I’ve been hanging out waiting for you.” Hilliard sighed again. “Damn, I am so sorry, man.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Warrick knew he’d made his choices—everyone knew. And now he would face the consequences of them.

“We all knew this was coming,” he added flatly, wanting to ease some of his fellow agent’s discomfort.

Yes, they’d known it was coming, but just not so soon. Then again, he shouldn’t have been surprised. The immediate threat to Sienna and her father had just been carried off in chunks in big black trash bags. And Kevin Peters was safely back in P.I.A. custody, ready to develop the desperately needed cure for the ferals.

“Shit, Donovan, I didn’t think they’d be all over you this fast.” Hilliard reached out and gripped his shoulder. “You’re a damn good agent. I hate that they’re going to force you out.”

They wouldn’t just force him out of the agency, they’d force him out of the community. But he couldn’t bring himself to remind Hilliard of that fact. Or maybe his friend knew and just wasn’t voicing it aloud. Soon enough actions would speak for themselves.

“Pisses me the hell off,” Hilliard continued to mutter. “I personally have no problem whom you mate with, but unfortunately I’m not an elder.”

No, he wasn’t.

“We should go,” Warrick said, pushing aside the heaviness in his chest. “No sense in putting it off.”

Hilliard nodded and they both made their way to the door.

Warrick wouldn’t regret his choices. He’d meant it when he’d told Sienna that she was his future. Whatever punishment the elders passed down on him, he would accept.

The only way he’d abandon Sienna now was if he were dead. And if that’s the punishment the elders wanted to pass down, then they’d better expect one helluva fight from him.

Chapter Twenty

It had been years since he’d been in the elder’s chamber. Any time a new shifter was inducted into the P.I.A., the elders held a private ceremony and bestowed their blessing. Warrick hadn’t been in here since that day and certainly couldn’t have foreseen his return under these circumstances.

He paused outside the room, taking a moment to draw in a slow breath and try to gather his thoughts. Exhaustion coated his entire body like he’d been double-dipped in the stuff.

Every muscle within him ached and his eyelids felt like they needed to be stapled to his forehead to stay up. But his mind was on heightened alert as he braced for what was sure to come.

He knocked on the large solid-oak door of the chamber and waited for it to open. His nerves grew more and more taut with every passing second.

When it finally swung open, a female servant in a black, loose dress and a nonjudging gaze greeted him.

“Mr. Donovan,” she murmured in a smooth, detached voice. “We’ve been expecting you. Please do come in.”

Warrick gave a slight nod and stepped into the chambers.

People who had never been inside imagined all kinds of wealth and luxury. But the elders didn’t glorify their position or crave extravagance. They were simple beings, sage and wise with their years. Elected by the members of the shifter community and held in the highest regard by the tribe.

Their evenings were spent in modest homes, and their days in this old wood building with the high roof, where comfort and convenience were most important. Except for tonight, when it seemed they’d met for a late-night assembly.

Seven elders sat behind a long oak desk, files in front of them and their gazes resting upon him.

“Please have a seat,” a shaky voice of one of the members called from the middle of the table.

Warrick sat down in the high-backed, wood chair in front of the table and forced himself to breathe normally.
 

“Do you know why you have been summoned here today, Mr. Donovan?” One of the two female elders asked quietly.

Tension commanded his muscles, but Warrick kept his tone even. “Yes, Madam Sovereign, I do.”

The woman, hair white and thinning, adjusted her glasses and flipped open her file.

“These past few days you have acted both questionably, and admirably. Your behavior has been under review by the committee of elders.”

“As I expected it to be.” Warrick braced himself for what was to come.

“It is noted that several days ago you killed a fellow shifter.”

He might know his fate, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t defend himself to the elders.

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