Tangling with the Tiger: Lone Pine Pride, Book 5 (20 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Grace didn’t sleep particularly well after Dominec set the record for fastest walk of shame in history. She’d left his room and returned to her own, but unlike last time her sated glow hadn’t outlasted his departure.

The man had literally run from her vagina. It was almost enough to give a girl self-esteem issues. Except for the fact that it was Dominec—who wasn’t exactly a normal lover on the best of days—and he’d been
very
satisfied about two seconds before he went all Road Runner on her.

She’d spent most of the night tossing and turning as she tried to figure out what had set him off this time. So she’d been in no shape to drive the next day and it was Tyler behind the wheel when they rolled through the high gates of Lone Pine’s perimeter fence around two the following afternoon.

She had been tempted to blindfold Maeve and the twins—turnabout was fair play, after all, and the sight of Dominec in a cage still burned in her memory—but it would have been petty and pointless. Lone Pine was a sanctuary, accepting shifter refugees from all over the world. If Black Lake didn’t already know how to get through their gates, they hadn’t been paying attention.

And Grace had a feeling the wolves always paid attention.

With so many shifters coming and going from Lone Pine over the years, it wasn’t surprising that the wolves had already known who she was, but for them to know that she’d been sleeping with Kelly, when she’d hardly advertised the fact, still bugged her. Who had told?

Hugo? One of Kelly’s other lovers who had gotten jealous and run off to Canada? It was senseless to wonder and yet she couldn’t help dwelling on how exactly Black Lake gathered all its knowledge. They seemed to know too much for simply harvesting information from those who arrived asking for boons. Did they have spies actively going to other prides and packs? Were they buying and selling secrets beyond their own borders?

Grace had been turning the problem over in her mind all morning as Tyler drove. At least when she hadn’t been obsessing over what had happened with Dominec the night before.

The man really took commitment avoidance to a whole new level.

He was riding shotgun, gazing out the window and never even looking at her, never even acknowledging the connection that she felt humming between them like a live wire. He hadn’t said a single fucking word to her. She would be pissed if she wasn’t so fucking confused.

At least she had plenty of pride business to occupy her muddled thoughts.

Kelly, Zoe and Grace crammed into the second seat and the wolf trio occupied the third. The Archive had shifted in the car and now sprawled across the laps of the twins sleeping soundly, like a breathing blanket of faded auburn fur.

Grace had called ahead, so Hugo and a pair of other advisors were waiting for them when they arrived at the parking lot closest to the Alpha’s mansion. The pride was designed mostly for pedestrians, so the lot was a ten-minute walk from the towering house—but with an unobstructed view of it and the zig-zagging staircase leading up the hill.

Roman and Patch would be waiting at their castle on the hill, ready for the intimidating house to do its job and instill awe and respect into the wolfy visitors. Grace somehow doubted that River and Cadence would be cowed by the power of Lone Pine, but a girl could dream.

Everyone piled out and began the walk up to the house—once the wolves were settled, the rest of them would be debriefed. She half expected Dominec to pull one of his usual tricks and disappear into the shadows, but he walked along with the rest of the group, his gaze on her every time she glanced over, though he still said not a single word.

She resisted the urge to flip him off.

Barely.

Xander fell into step beside her, and she tensed, remembering the last time they’d seen one another. The awkward send-off. She braced herself for some bullshit drama, but he simply grunted, “Good trip?”

Grace nodded to the wolves. “We’ll see.”

Grace had kept Roman updated as much as possible, but they had been speaking in riddles and codes as a precaution. Now she was itching to demand an update on how things were progressing at the pride. She felt like she’d been on a different planet on the trip to Black Lake.

It was tempting to quiz Xander about what had happened while she was gone, but as much as she wanted to know how the prisoners were, how Mateo’s project to locate other prides and packs had gone, and how the plans for the mega-strike were progressing, wolf shifter ears were just as sensitive as hers and she didn’t need the blackmail patrol to know every detail of pride business.

So she held her tongue and trudged up the hill.

It was hours later, after her own debriefing and long after the wolves had been handed over to more tactful members of the pride to be pumped for information, when Grace cornered Xander in his office at the mansion.

The cell phone that linked her to the pride security network was back on her hip, making her feel whole again, but there was still so much she needed to know. They had only been gone five days, but a lot could happen in that time.

And it looked like a lot had. Even Xander—the impervious asshole from whom shit seemed to naturally slide right off—had circles under his eyes and a haggard weariness about him. He was, she supposed, good looking in the classic lion sense—strong build, strong features, hair of mutli-hued browns and blonds cut shaggy and just a little too long so it always seemed mane-like. He came from one of the oldest and most traditional pride families and had always acted like that made him God’s gift to lion-kind, but when he wasn’t being a total self-important, sycophantic ass, he could accidentally be a good lieutenant. They were close enough in age that they’d pretty much grown up together—bickering all the way—and they’d even earned their promotions to lieutenant at the same time, which had led to more competition than camaraderie, but if she needed to be brought up to speed, she knew Xander could do the job.

And she wanted something to take the flavor of their last conversation out of her mouth.

“You look like shit,” she told him as she kicked his door shut behind her for privacy.

Xander looked up from the papers he’d been going over on his desk and grimaced. “I fucking hate the prisoners,” he complained. “And actually doing all this paperwork I usually fob off on you sucks donkey dick.”

Grace flopped down on one of the two chairs facing the mahogany stretch of his desk. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you actually using that desk,” she commented. His office was stylish and large, but rarely used. More for appearance than function—as most things were with Xander.

“Don’t get used to the sight. I plan to shirk the fucking paperwork again now that you’re back.”

No surprise there. “What did I miss?” she asked, done with small talk.

“You mean besides when one of the prisoners broke his own fucking arm so he could get taken to the infirmary to try to kill Dr. Russell because she’s a traitor to the Organization?”

Grace sat forward sharply. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. No thanks to the dumbass kids we had guarding the prisoners. Moira saved her and then the Hawk went ballistic. The kid who was supposed to be keeping the prisoner in line was useless. Of course, half the kids guarding the prisoners are fucking useless and yet we’re stretched so thin we don’t have any other options.” His eyes met hers. “I hope you’re coming back with good news.”

“I hope I am too. Has there been any progress on the Organization front?”

“A couple of the patrols beyond the perimeter fence have started reporting strange human scents in the area.”

“Hikers?”

Xander gazed at her steadily. “You want to gamble on it being innocent hikers?”

“So they’re watching us.”

“Scouting for weaknesses would be my guess. Planning their attack on us even as we’re doing the same.”

Grace eyed the calendar on the wall. How much time did they have before the Organization hit them here? The Big Bad had never come at them full force in a frontal assault—that wasn’t their style. They were more likely to go for kidnappings and preying on the weak or isolated. But it seemed like things were coming to a head now. Thanksgiving was in a few days. Would they strike before then?

Just two months ago everything had been different. They’d known about shifter disappearances in the south, but the danger hadn’t been at their door. Greg had still been Alpha. Patch hadn’t even been living on the pride lands full time. No one had known to call the bogeyman “the Organization” and Grace’s job had been standard border patrols, guarding against exposure to the humans and keeping the peace among the volatile shifters of the pride.

Two months and everything had changed.

What would life at the pride be like two months from now? If there would even be a pride left…

“Do we need to talk about what happened before you left?”

She tore her eyes off the calendar, turning back to Xander, and in her distraction it took her a moment to recall what he was talking about. Something in his expression clued her in. The discomfort. The awkwardness.

Shit
.

“We can’t have things be awkward between us,” he went on when she didn’t speak. “We have to be able to work together without weirdness.” When she still didn’t speak, he rolled his eyes. “Patch said I have to talk it out with you, so I’m talking it out. What do I need to say?”

Gee, thanks, Patch.
So much for just hoping she could forget that whole conversation ever happened. What did he need to say? “I guess I wondered why. Why me? Why now?”

“My folks are on me to breed.” At her raised eyebrow, he rolled his eyes. “I know. Crap timing, right? But they’re scared and that’s how they cope, by pretending if I just get married and give them grandbabies everything will be normal and okay.”

“Mine are the same,” Grace admitted. It was a little weird to have something in common with Xander.

“Yeah, well, you’re the only single female I spend any time with, so, you know.” He shrugged. “I tried something. No offense. I was surprised when you said no.”

“Of course you were.” She rolled her eyes.

He shrugged, the same cocky ass as ever. “I always thought you had the hots for me.”

“Not a chance.”
Ew.
But honesty forced her to continue.
“But you’re a decent lieutenant when you aren’t trying to kiss everyone’s ass.”

He grimaced. “I’m too tired to kiss ass. I can’t remember the last time I had a full night’s sleep.”

“Go get some rest,” Grace said. “I’ll keep an eye on your prisoner situation.” She didn’t think she would be able to sleep anyway. Not with so many puzzles that needed working out clattering around in her brain.

Dominec and Kelly and the wolves and the Organization…there was too much. So she waved off Xander’s half-hearted protests and started out toward the secluded cabin where the remaining prisoners were being kept, using the walk to clear her head.

She made good time, stretching out her legs, so she was already halfway to the cabin when the distress call went out. Never a dull moment at Lone Pine.

Grace cursed softly, responded that she was on her way and ran.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Dominec was shadowing Grace—stalking was such an unnecessarily loaded word—when she suddenly bolted through the woods. She spoke into her phone as she ran, but he wasn’t close enough to hear what she was saying.

Whatever the problem, she was approaching it at full speed, not waiting for backup. Not taking a single fucking second to consider her safety.

Dominec snarled something uncomplimentary about stubborn ass lionesses who thought they were invincible and charged after her. She might feel safe on Lone Pine land, but safety was an illusion, no matter where you were.

He paced her easily, not trying to overtake her, conserving his energy if he would need to fight when they got wherever the hell they were going.

There wasn’t much out here. A few scattered cabins were tucked among the trees, but this part of the pride lands was largely uninhabited. If she was heading toward the perimeter fence, she wasn’t taking the most direct route, but he couldn’t figure out what else she could be rushing out to.

Until she burst into a clearing ahead of him and the powerful stench of humans wafted toward him on the breeze.

The Organization prisoners.

This was where they’d been hidden after the riots.

Something violent and instinctive roused at the scent of them, but Dominec pushed it down, forcing himself to focus on Grace. She ran for the front door of the cottage, flinging it open and disappearing inside.

Another scent hit him—heavy on the air as soon as she opened the door. Blood.

Dominec scrambled down the incline to the clearing, forfeiting stealth for speed. He couldn’t see her.
The scent of blood…

“Xander, urgent assistance required at the prisoner’s cabin. Bring Kelly and Brandt.”

Grace’s voice. Sharp. Businesslike.

His heart rate eased at the sound of her barking out commands, but panic didn’t entirely release its vise-grip on his chest until he saw her through the open door. He stopped on the step. Anyone inside could have seen him standing there, but no one paid him any mind, all eyes fixed on the drama inside.

Grace was kneeling beside a young guard on the floor, her hands red with his blood as she attempted to stem the bleeding from an uneven gash in his neck. Another guard sat beside her, eyes glazed as he watched her, his own hands painted red, with smears of blood across his clothes from where he’d tried to help his partner before Grace took charge.

“How did this happen?” she snapped out, without taking her attention off her patient.

It wasn’t looking good for him. The wound in his neck would have killed a human, and even a shifter would be hard pressed to come back from something like that. They’d probably picked this location for the prisoners because it was remote, but without quick access to the infirmary soldier-boy was most likely screwed.

“I-I don’t know,” the other boy stammered, rocking himself as he watched Grace work to save his friend’s life. “I don’t know how she could have gotten a hold of a knife. We were outside—threats come from the outside,” he babbled, gaining momentum now. “We’re trained for external threats! No one told us they would try to kill one another. We didn’t even hear anything. Then she started screaming. The girl was dead, blood everywhere, and the woman was moaning and screaming, covered in blood. Parker thought she was dying so he went to check on her and—” He made a vague gesture with his hands, swallowing with visible effort. “I didn’t know what to do. I had to help Parker, didn’t I?”

Another of the prisoners pressed both hands to a wound in her thigh, watching their attempts to save the guard with large, silent eyes.

“How many escaped?”

The boy looked around, confused, surveying the remaining prisoners who huddled in corners around the room. “Three? Four? I think four. Or it could have been three—”

“Where is Parker’s tranq gun?”

The boy paled, looking around frantically as he folded both hands over his own gun protectively. “I—oh God, I saw him drop it. But it isn’t—the man. The tall one. He took it. When the bloody woman stabbed Parker, she just ran but the first man who followed her stopped to pick something up. It must have been the gun, right?”

He didn’t know. Dominec couldn’t imagine that kind of sloppiness. But then he couldn’t imagine leaving two virtually untrained kids as the only guards for a house full of Organization assholes.

Three had gotten away. Maybe four.

There was no one here to protect her from—the prisoners who remained looked too weak to be threats. He couldn’t help her heal the wounded guard. But hunting, that was something he could do.

The trails were fresh. Three of them—though one was so heavily layered with blood it might have masked another scent. Another had a tinge of sickness to it. One wounded, one sick. The third shot off to his left. Dominec turned in that direction, identifying it as the most likely threat.

He kept his human form—it was too easy to kill as the tiger and Grace wanted these assholes alive, for some inexplicable reason. The going was slower on two feet rather than four, but not by much. The human had a head start, but that wouldn’t help him much. It must have been days since he bathed since the scent was potent enough Dominec didn’t even have to slow to follow it. The fool must be running randomly—he’d changed course twice and was now pointed back toward the heart of the pride, which was doubtless the last place he wanted to be running.

Dominec heard him before he saw him, crashing through the brush. Typical fucking human. He was a tall man and wore one of the Organization’s security uniforms. He had once been muscular and even now still carried more bulk than most of the other prisoners. He moved like a freight train, panting heavily, and Dominec was almost tempted to let him run himself into the ground—but there were at least two other prisoners loose and he didn’t have time to play.

The asshole never saw him coming.

Dominec grabbed a sturdy branch. Moving quick and fast, he overtook the human from behind, striking him once on the back of the head. The man’s momentum carried him forward to crash to the earth on his face. Dominec stood with his branch ready and flipped the man with his foot, ready for him to leap to his feet and fight. Eager for the chance to throw a few punches. But the bastard couldn’t oblige.

Out cold.

From one measly hit.

Humans.

Dominec flipped aside the branch, stripped the man of the tranq gun he’d tucked into his belt and considered the dead weight sprawled on the ground in front of him. Dragging his heavy ass all the way back to the prisoner’s cabin was not high on his wish list, but he hadn’t thought to bring anything to tie the bastard up with so he couldn’t very well leave him here.

Dominec bent, grabbing the man by one wrist and his belt and slung him, as best he could, over his shoulder in a modified fireman’s carry, grunting under the weight.

He hadn’t thought he’d gone that far in pursuit, but with his cargo the trudge back to the prisoner’s cabin seemed to stretch. By the time he got back to the little ravine that housed the cabin, it was a hive of activity. He stopped in a dense part of the woods above the clearing, letting his baggage slide down to the ground as he surveyed the movement below.

Grace was outside, her hands wiped clear of the worst of the blood. She directed the swarming security personnel—most of whom were still too young and green for any sort of responsibility—as she spoke to the Hawk and his pretty pet doctor.

Dominec bent to collect his prize again and take it down to toss at her feet, but before he could do more than grab one meaty wrist, Grace broke away from the Hawk and Dr. Russell, jogging over to greet a pair of newcomers, her face etched with relief.

Kelly and Xander.

He’d heard her call them for backup. Her two ex-lovers. He’d heard how automatic it was for her to reach out to them.

She hadn’t called him for help. Even after last night.

He had failed her before. She might have said it meant nothing to her, but clearly on a deeper level she acknowledged his failure. She knew instinctively that he didn’t deserve her.

But neither did they.

The Hawk took flight and Grace ran into the woods on two feet, already directing half of her young security forces to shift and the other to stay human as they began the search. Thanks to the big bastard’s circling, Dominec had not approached the ravine from the same direction he’d left it, so the trackers raced away from him, completely missing him standing there watching them fan out.

Dr. Russell slipped into the cabin as the rest of the security team raced away, leaving only Xander and Kelly guarding the door.

Xander and Kelly.

The two Grace had called for.

The two she thought were good enough for her. The two she trusted to protect the prisoners. It would be so easy to drop them both. His hand flexed around the tranq gun he didn’t even remember drawing. She deserved to know they would fail her. He needed to prove that he was stronger, faster, better.

Kelly was speaking, saying something flirtatious into his comm device. Xander at least tried to be vigilant, but his eyes were glazed and bruised from lack of sleep.

Xander looked up a moment before the dart hit him in the throat. Kelly never even saw it coming.

Dominec nudged them each with a foot, unsure what to do now—go back for the unconscious prisoner he’d left just beyond the clearing?—when a whisper of sound inside the cabin caught his attention. The door wasn’t quite pulled shut. He nudged it and it creaked ominously open. Dr. Russell looked up from the prisoner with the thigh wound, the expression on her face making it clear he looked exactly like a horror movie villain. Ironic, when her people were the masters of horrors.

“Hello, Doc. Fancy meeting you here.”

The good doctor met his eyes, fear vivid in hers. “Where are Xander and Kelly?”

“I didn’t kill
them. They’re just taking a little nap outside.” Everyone was always assuming he was murdering people left and right. Though he supposed Dr. Russell had a right to think that, all things considered.

He pocketed the tranq gun in a show of good faith, giving it a little twirl in an attempt to lighten the mood that obviously fell flat. Rachel sidled away from her patient and he kicked the door shut, moving to crouch in front of her, trying to make himself a less threatening presence.

“You smell like the bird.”

The doc nodded. “I’m on your side. I helped one hundred and fifty-two shifters escape from the Organization. I got them out.”

“You didn’t get me out.”

No one had gotten him out. All his years in hell and no one had been looking for him. No one had been fighting for him. It wasn’t a condemnation, just a fact.

“No. I didn’t,” she whispered.

His control was slipping. He could feel it happening, his teeth sharpening. The scents of these humans…the same humans who had bent him until he broke.

And he had broken. That was his great secret. He had buckled beneath the force of them. They hadn’t just shattered him, they had
mastered
him. These people who huddled against the walls and gazed at him, smelling like prey.

“You think I’m crazy?” he asked the good doctor.

“No.”

“I am. I’m a killer.” He smiled, though she cringed from the sight. He tipped his head, letting the light play vividly over his scars. “But I wasn’t always. Your Organization did that.”

“They aren’t mine,” she whispered. “We’re on the same side.”

“So you’ll let me kill these people?” he asked, indicating the prisoners who watched silent as ghosts, still as juicy rabbits. “You won’t stand in my way?”

The doctor trembled. “I can’t do that either.”

Brave little thing. No wonder the Hawk loved her to hell and back. “I can smell your fear.” But she didn’t let it stop her. He could almost admire that.

“I know.”

“Smells good.” She smelled like prey. Like temptation. Like hunger about to be sated.

It would be so easy. Going back to that cold hard place where everything was icy and calm. Where there was no confusion. Where his chest didn’t ache on a daily basis. It was simple being the monster.

It would be so easy.