Tangling with the Tiger: Lone Pine Pride, Book 5 (23 page)

“Sort of fitting,” Patch agreed.

“He really gets you?” Rachel prompted.

If anyone else had asked, Grace might have brushed it off with a flip remark, but Dominec had held Rachel at gunpoint not too long ago. She deserved a genuine answer.

“Kelly thought I took too much on myself. He was always trying to get me to slow down and rely on him. Dominec just accepts that I’m the kind of person who is always going to push harder than anyone else. That’s me. And I can’t give it up. I need to be the one who pushes the hardest and fights to be the strongest. Dominec would never dream of telling me to take it easy, even when he can’t stand the idea that I’m not safe.” And there it was. The crux of the problem. “It makes him nuts that he can’t protect me and I’m never going to play it safe, so…lose/lose.”

“That sucks,” Whiskey muttered and a chorus of agreement went around the table, along with another toast.

Grace raised her glass. It did suck. And she didn’t have the first idea how to fix it.

“But you have to keep trying,” Lila said with the careful, forceful enunciation of the tipsy. “If you love him, you can’t just give up.”

“I don’t know about love,” Grace said hurriedly. “We’re barely friends.”

“To perseverance and true love!”

“Here, here!”
Raki
shots waved in solidarity.

Lila wasn’t listening. But she did have a point. It might never be love—or anything as conventional as that—but Grace wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Provided she ever saw hide or hair of Dominec again.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Distraction was the key.

If Dominec had learned anything over the last few days it was that keeping his body so busy his brain didn’t have time to think was the only way to keep his mind off Grace. So he stayed busy.

Destroying the Organization was his only goal. He refocused on that. He’d gotten out of the habit of listening for secrets, too preoccupied with Grace. He grew restless lurking in shadows, the itch to act moving beneath his skin.

Mateo kicked him out of his bunker for annoying him, but not before Dominec learned the female prisoner who had started all the trouble a few days ago was being interrogated by Hugo in one of the other outpost cabins.

The pride was large, but the bear’s scent was distinctive and it only took a couple hours to track him out to the cabin—where he flat out refused to allow Dominec anywhere near the prisoner. The old bastard had never liked him and as soon as Dominec realized he was fighting a losing battle he changed tactics.

A quick jog back to the main compound and five bucks in the pocket of one of the kids who ran messages later, Dominec waited outside the Alpha’s mansion to intercept Kye as he ran out.

“Dominec.” The leopard jerked a nod in greeting, never breaking his stride. “I can’t talk now. Mix up in the schedules. I’m late for perimeter patrol.”

“No, you aren’t. I just needed to talk to you.”

Kye stopped, his glare conveying his irritation better than any words could.

“It’s important.” Which would only be a lie if his plan didn’t work. “I need you to get me in to see the prisoner Hugo is guarding.”

“No.” Kye had never been one to mince words.

“If she’s as high up in the Organization structure as everyone is saying she is, she’ll recognize me.”

“And?”

“And I will scare the shit out of her. Trust me.”

Kye frowned.

“Or if you don’t trust me, ask Mateo. He’s seen my Organization file. You guys are just animals to her, but I’m Frankenstein’s monster coming home for revenge. You aren’t going to find anyone better to play bad cop.”

“I think we’re having more trouble finding people willing to play good cop,” Kye said dryly.

“Would you just talk to Hugo? What can it hurt to let me try?”

Maybe he was pessimistic, but Dominec hadn’t actually expected Kye to be successful in his effort to persuade Hugo. So it was with a certain degree of shock that he stepped through the door and crouched in front of Madison Clarke.

The cabin they were using this time was a two-room deal composed of a main room where Hugo, Kye and the guards waited—hanging on every word with their sensitive shifter hearing—and a small, windowless room that had likely once served as a larder.

Madison sat on the floor—there was no furniture in the small room—with her back wedged into the corner and her knees drawn up in front of her. She bore a vague resemblance to Rachel Russell—similar brunette coloring and facial shape—but tattoos marched across her wrists and the side of her neck.

The tattoos, more than anything, marked her as a true believer. Shifter skin tended to reject tattoo ink with the first shift, so Organization operatives would wear them as a mark of their humanity.

She smelled of shampoo and granola bars—someone had been playing good cop enough to make sure she was clean and fed. He knew she had been hiding among the other prisoners, pretending to be a low-level secretary scared out of her wits, but there was no fear in her eyes now. She gazed steadily back at him, studying him as he studied her, completely comfortable with his silence. He tipped his face so the light highlighted his scars, but she didn’t even blink.

No wonder Hugo had grown desperate enough to allow Dominec in. This was not a woman who was going to break any time soon and time was a commodity they didn’t have.

“I killed a lot of Organization personnel,” he began conversationally. “Sounds like I should have killed you.”

She raised one eyebrow.

“You’re one of the big bosses, right?”

She just looked at him, an expression of mild pity entering her eyes, as if she felt bad for him being such an idiot that he actually thought she would talk to him.

“You know who I am, don’t you? You must have heard of me. I was the Organization’s pride and joy for a while. I’ll be offended if you don’t recognize me.”

A superior little smile lifted her lips.

“I suppose the Sigma Project was need to know. Maybe you didn’t need to know.”

Shit
. She wasn’t reacting at all. So much for his belief that his big bad reputation would scare her shitless. She knew him—he could see in her eyes that she did—but she still wasn’t scared. Why the hell wasn’t she scared?

“You’re on the losing side of the battle.”

Her smile didn’t waver.

“Endangered species,” he said conversationally. “Before long the Organization will be crushed beneath a tide of shifters. You’re already dead. You just don’t know you’re walking corpses. If you are going to play mute, we have no reason not to just kill you now.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked him, so fucking smug, certain he would never touch her. “
You’re
the corpses. You think you know us, know what we’re capable of, but Russell only scraped the surface. We’re bigger and more powerful than you could even imagine. The only reason we haven’t crushed you already is because we decided you could be useful and we deigned to allow you to live. You know about that better than anyone, don’t you, Sigma Two?”

The call sign shifted jagged shards of memory against the inside of his brain, leaving bloody grooves, but he only flinched internally.

He had been their pet. A useful weapon. He did know.

They didn’t just kidnap shifters for fun. They
used
them. For experiments. For some ultimate agenda that was beyond even Madison Clarke’s pay grade. He should have known as soon as he saw the tattoos that she wouldn’t talk. True believers would rather martyr themselves for the cause.

He straightened and she watched him, smiling, smug. It took genuine effort not to rip her face off with his claws. He took it as a personal breakthrough that he didn’t give in to the urge to paint the walls with her blood.

A single rap on the closed door and it opened from the outside, just wide enough to allow him to slip out. Kye shut and locked the door again, a slight smile tugging at his mouth. The guards were grinning like idiots and even Hugo was smiling. Were they that fucking pleased that he’d failed?

“What?” he snarled.

“She slipped,” Kye said, soft-spoken as ever.

Dominec shook his head, uncomprehending.

“She said
Russell
only scratched the surface,” Hugo explained. “If the Organization thinks we only know about the locations Rachel knew of, we have a huge advantage. Rachel had a whole network of spies, gathering information across the Organization, but if they think she is the extent of the leak, they won’t be upping security and moving shifters away from the sites Rachel didn’t have personal knowledge of.”

“Unless that’s just what Madison Clarke wants us to think,” Dominec said, though nothing about her had betrayed a lie. She even smelled like she believed what she was saying. “Or unless she knew about the whole team and she’s right and the Organization is bigger than Lone Pine could ever suspect.”

Smiles around the room vanished as if they’d never existed.

“We need to talk to Rachel,” Kye said.

“It’s late,” Hugo rumbled. “We’ll catch her after the feast tomorrow.”

The feast. Thanksgiving. Dominec had never gone and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. Grace would be there. And he couldn’t lose himself. He’d already lost enough of his edge.

But apparently Mateo hadn’t gotten the memo that Dominec didn’t play nice with the rest of the pride. He appeared on Dominec’s doorstep an hour after the day-long feast was scheduled to start, hammering on the door incessantly until Dominec threw it open just to get him to stop.

“What?” he snarled.

He should have gone to ground until the fucking togetherness of the holiday was over, but he’d thought everyone would be busy and he could use this opportunity to pack up his limited possessions and move them to a different location. Somewhere he wouldn’t have memories of the look on Grace’s face when he’d walked out the door. Somewhere she wouldn’t be able to find him.

Mateo grinned, unaffected by Dominec’s mood. He still looked tired, but he’d been annoyingly cheerful ever since he discovered his sister was still alive—albeit missing. For once he wasn’t wearing one of his ubiquitous nerd T-shirts. Dark jeans and a crisp white button-up shirt with a dark blue sport coat hanging off one finger over his shoulder gave him a surprisingly mature look.

“You’re coming to the party with me,” Mateo told him.

“No.”

“Not up for negotiation,” Mateo said cheerfully. “Everyone is going to be manic, desperate to pretend we aren’t scared of the bogeyman and having fun like there’s no tomorrow—because there might not be. It’s a must go. Even you might get laid.”

Visions of Grace jumped to the forefront of his mind. “I don’t want to get laid.”
Liar
.

“That’s fine. I don’t actually care if you get laid. You’re just coming as my wingman. I figure if you’re standing next to me, I look a thousand times sexier.”

“Fuck you,” he said without heat.

“You aren’t my type. Now hurry up and splash on some cologne before all the desperate kittens are taken.”

Dominec narrowed his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Honestly? We’re friends.” Mateo sobered just enough to make the words sound sincere. “And friends don’t leave friends alone on the holidays. Even if those friends are surly loner dicks who would rather be left alone. Everyone suffers through togetherness on Thanksgiving. It’s tradition. So get over yourself and come with me. You can sneak out after five minutes if you want, but I have made it my personal mission to get your ass to the party, so you might as well give in now because I always complete my missions. I blame video games.”

“Video games?” He never knew if Mateo was serious or not.

“Compulsive need to beat the game. It’s a thing. And you’re my new game. So are you coming or am I beginning my campaign of annoyance? I have an off-tune rendition of ‘Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall’ with your name on it.”

He had a feeling Mateo might actually be serious about that. Five minutes. He could do five minutes as long as he stayed away from Grace. “Fine.”

“And my perfect streak continues.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.” Mateo grinned. And Dominec grabbed his coat.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Grace sat next to Kelly at the banquet—which of course sent her mother into paroxysms of delight that almost made her feel guilty about the fact that she wasn’t going to marry Kelly and have a dozen little lion babies.

Almost.

She’d stayed out entirely too long with the girls the night before and had enough
raki
that it was a minor miracle she wasn’t hung over beyond functioning today. By the end of the night, the toasts had segued into a series of drunken pep talks which ranged from Zoe telling her to jump Dominec and ride him like a bucking bronco to Lila swearing drunkenly that love will conquer all. And Patch correcting her that with men sometimes sex will conquer all was a better motto.

She’d fallen into bed at an hour she didn’t want to consider and woke up with a pounding headache and just enough time to sprint to the feast before it started. A few Advil later and she felt reasonably human, though she was sticking to water today. Patch and Lila both looked disgustingly chipper as they honored Rachel—who also looked remarkably composed. Grace was almost relieved to see Zoe looking a little green around the edges and leaning against Tyler, cringing at every cheer that went up at the rowdy celebration.

Two dozen fat turkeys lined the banquet tables that filled the Pride Hall, along with all the fixings, half a dozen hams, and a trio of massive beef roasts. There would be even more food in the main dining hall. The pride had grown too large to all fit into one space—even one as large as the Hall—and many of those with small children had chosen to eat at the other, quieter hall, though Grace’s family was here, front and center. When the celebration descended into a rowdier party—as it inevitably would—the families would move over to the dining hall along with those who wanted to continue feasting.

Grace figured she could make her escape then. She wasn’t much in the mood for festivities today.

Dominec wasn’t here.

Not that she’d expected him to be. She was reasonably sure he’d never attended one of the holiday feasts and he wasn’t likely to start now when he’d been avoiding her all week, but she couldn’t help looking up every time the door opened to see if it was him.

The meal was over. The ceremony honoring Rachel was complete. Tables were already being shoved to the sides of the room to clear a dance floor. He wasn’t coming.

She should go find him. He’d cut himself off from anything resembling family ever since he’d lost his, but she hated the idea of him alone today. If he wouldn’t come to the party, she would bring the party to him.

Except that wasn’t what he wanted. He’d made that more than clear by running out on her.

Again.

And by avoiding her all week.

She always pushed. She always ran at problems head on. She didn’t know how to leave well enough alone. But when was it too much? Should she be respecting his wishes and leaving him be? The idea stirred a violent protest in her, but she couldn’t exactly
force
him to let her in.

“Grace.”

“Hm?” She turned, only realizing when she saw Kelly standing beside her chair that he must have said her name several times. The table where they’d been sitting was being moved—and she was sitting there, staring off into space, in the way of everything. “Sorry.”

She scrambled to her feet and helped Kelly collapse their chairs and drag them over to the stacks forming to one side of the raised platform that served as a stage.

“Dare I ask what you were thinking about?” he asked wryly.

She shrugged. “Pride stuff.”

The lie came easily. And she found herself wondering how many times she had lied to him without even noticing. Little things, yes, but all designed to keep part of herself away from him, keep that safe distance. He didn’t know her, but how much of that was her fault?

Her mother appeared, crossing the stage with Honor and Faith in tow, and Grace climbed the steps to meet them with Kelly at her heels.

“We’re heading over to the dining hall!” her mother sing-songed cheerfully—all happiness, not even sparing a pinched glance for the fact that Grace was wearing jeans rather than a dress.

“Have you had a good time?” she asked and her mother beamed at her and Kelly equally.

“Oh wonderful. Wonderful,” her mother repeated, her laser gaze taking in how close Kelly was standing to Grace. “Everything is wonderful. But we’ll be off now.” She hugged Grace and Kelly in turn.

Around the room, other pride families were splitting off. The twins hugged Kelly, and Grace had to pry the pair of them off him to take her turn. Her mother laughed as she collected the girls, winking at Grace and Kelly. “You kids have fun now.”

Her mother was delighted with her. Not disappointed. Not confused. Just openly delighted. And it was because of Kelly. Part of her wanted to be irritated that she needed a man for her mother to be happy, but another part had to wonder if she was being overly obstinate by pushing away her mother’s idea of happiness.

Grace watched her mother go, waiting until she was out of the building and well out of earshot before she turned to Kelly. “I haven’t really given us a chance, have I?”

His eyebrows flew up toward his ever-present cowboy hat. “No, you haven’t,” he replied, visibly surprised by her candor—which reminded her again about how little she let him see of her.

She gave him the flip and easy parts of her. The parts that diffused tension and kept everything copasetic. And then she was mad at him because that was all he saw.

“I’m sorry.”

They were standing in the shadows at the back of the stage, out of the way as their pride mates set up speakers and cleared tables. Kelly tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m not asking you to be sorry, Grace.”

No. He was just asking for a shot. Something he had earned and she’d never given him. She was too busy throwing emotional energy after a man who had a habit of physically running away from her as fast as he could. She always called others on their self-sabotaging bullshit, but no one had called her on hers.

She might be able to go the distance with Kelly, if she just got out of her own way.

She opened her mouth to tell him just that.

And the door opened.

She knew she shouldn’t look. It wouldn’t be him. But in spite of the protest from her brain, her head turned toward the sound.

And there he was.

Dominec Freaking Giroux.

He hadn’t dressed for the occasion. One of his typical black T-shirts stretched over the muscles of his shoulders, the long sleeves pushed up to reveal the bronzed muscles of his forearms. The black leather jacket he’d just shrugged out of dangled from one finger and his standard black cargo pants hung low off his hips.

He’d be commando underneath. She knew now that Dominec never bothered with underwear.

The light was bright and festive in the Pride Hall. No shadows for him to fade into, but he didn’t pull his usual routine of canting his face so everyone was forced to look at his scars. Instead his eyes scanned the room as if he was looking for someone.

When his gaze hit her, it stopped—

And so did the world.

A room separated them, but when he looked at her like that, his black gaze hungry and crackling with heat, they might as well have been the only two people on the planet. Dominec hadn’t needed to be shown who she was. He’d seen. She could lie to him and he would just laugh, seeing right through to the heart of her. She didn’t know how he did it. She only knew it roused something in her soul that had been asleep her entire life.

“I guess that answers that question.”

At Kelly’s wry words, Grace wrenched her gaze away from Dominec, her head whipping back to the cowboy. “What question?”

Kelly just shook his head, lowering his eyes. When he looked up again, she saw resignation in them. “You’ve never looked at me like that, Grace.”

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologize. That really won’t help. And it won’t change anything. Everything I wanted from you that you weren’t able to give me… It’s him. He’s your mate. Like Amala said. She saw it right away, didn’t she?”

“No. I mean, yes, that’s what she thought it was, but it wasn’t like that—”

“It
wasn’t
. Meaning now it is.” Kelly shook his head ruefully. “You were never going to see me, because all you see is him. Hell, Grace, all you had to do was tell me you were with him and I would have bowed out.”

“I’m not with him,” she protested. She didn’t know
how
to be with him. But Kelly was right. She couldn’t see anyone else when Dominec was in the room. And it wasn’t fair to Kelly to pretend otherwise. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah. With him it would have to be.” The cowboy swept his hat off his head and rubbed a hand up the back of his neck through his blond curls. “If he isn’t good to you, I’ll kill him. Even if I have to enlist help from half the pride in order to take him on, I’ll do it. So tell him he ever hurts you, I hurt him—with the help of however many people I need to hold him down.”

She smiled, caught between being amused and honored that he meant it. “You’re a good guy, Kelly Mather. Way too good for me.”

“Yeah, see, that’s where we always disagree, Grace,” he said, propping his hat back on his head, tilted all the way back. “I never thought there was such a thing as too good for you.”