The Psy-Changeling Series, Books 6-10 (39 page)

“Riley—”

“Shh. Just let me hold you. Just for a second.”

She softened in his arms, showing a courage he wasn’t sure even he possessed. “Kitty cat, we’ll figure out a way.” Because he never wanted Mercy to feel less, feel broken. He’d savage himself before he’d allow that.

CHAPTER 51

The Information Merchant was dead. But his computers weren’t. They ran with quicksilver efficiency. And when the final check-in deadline passed with no contact from their master, the computers shifted operations.

The Information Merchant had been an honest man as far as spies went. He’d found information and he’d handed it over for the agreed price. He’d never held anyone to ransom, never used what he’d discovered for blackmail. It was bad for business.

However, he knew that not everyone was like him. So he’d made contingency plans—he saw no reason to maintain the faith with anyone who would kill him. Five seconds after the final deadline, his computers sent comprehensive details of his last employer—the Human Alliance—the information he’d found,
and
the plans of his associates to the Council.

But the computers didn’t stop there. The Merchant had decided to leave a mark on the world. A second set of data, this one limited to the details of the
other
plans he’d managed to unearth, was sent to media stations in the affected areas, the information routed through servers around the world to confuse the trail.

Only after those tasks were complete did the computers begin the total erasure of their files. Ten minutes later, the Information Merchant truly was dead.

CHAPTER 52

Mercy was in the car on the way to the isolated warehouse that Bowen and his people were currently evacuating, when her phone rang. “Sage? What is it? Is Grey—”

“It’s not Sage,” said an unfamiliar female voice. “It’s Clara, from CTX. I’m using Sage’s office line. I knew he’d have your number as a quickcode—”

“Slow down, kitten,” Mercy said over the girl’s rapid speed. Clara, she recalled, was a human intern. A very young one. “What do you need me for?”

“An e-fax came through a minute ago and I can’t find anyone—” A pause, the sound of air being gulped. “Sorry. I’m just freaked. There are probably people here but I thought you should know—the fax says there’s going to be a bomb going off in the city in half an hour. Exactly 7:32 a.m.”

Mercy sat up. “Details?”

When Clara read them off, Mercy blew out a breath. “Anything else?”

“It says the Human Alliance is behind this and other fatal attacks around the world, and asks for a boycott of their businesses in protest. Shall I send the fax to your phone?”

“Yes.” She shot it to both Hawke and Lucas as soon as it landed in her in-box. “And, Clara—good call.”

Hanging up on the relieved girl, she turned to Riley. “Floor it. We have a deadline.”

Riley did as asked, and they made it to Bowen’s group in plenty of time. Warned by Mercy, the team had cleared out with military precision. Though Bowen was pissed.

“How the fuck did they get a bomb inside?” Near-black eyes narrowed. “It had to be one of us, someone they turned.”

The tiny Eurasian woman beside him frowned. “We can’t know that.”

“Where the hell is Claude then? I haven’t seen him for twenty-four hours.”

Mercy left them arguing in low voices and headed over to rejoin Riley. “Chance of collateral damage?” she asked, looking around in the unexpectedly cloudy morning light. At least the fog was manageable, barely licking at their ankles.

Riley shook his head. “None. Other warehouses are empty. Bowen and his team swept them for vagrants on their way out, and I did a second sweep.”

“Good.” She rubbed her forehead. “Bomb squad’s setting up now—they might be able to find and disarm the device using one of their bots.”

Glancing around to ensure that everyone was out of the danger zone, he nudged her to follow. “We need to clear the perimeter.”

As they walked, Mercy could sense his wolf clawing at the surface of his skin. Her leopard wasn’t much better. But she knew it was worse for him. It was just the way nature worked—the mating dance could push a predatory changeling male close to insanity. Riley was holding it together. For her.

And for a wolf changeling of his possessive, intensely protective nature to fight the instincts of his beast . . . it had to be a trip through hell itself.

It had been no false promise. She knew he’d do it if it was in any way possible. Riley would give up everything to keep her from being hurt.

Maybe, she thought, her own heart expanding past all fear, all worry, it was time Riley learned what it was to be mated to a leopard. That leopard was finally ready to take a leap in the dark, trusting he’d catch her on the other side. And for her, it was very much a conscious decision—she was too strong, too independent, to fall into this by chance.

She slid her hand into his, twining their fingers together. Leopard and woman were both in agreement—this man, this wolf, he was strong, he was smart, and he was willing to fight for his mate, no matter the cost to himself. The leopard could do no less.

Riley shot her a smile that was the merest curve of his lips. “There goes my macho image.” But his hand tightened around hers. Masculine heat, callused palm, the touch of a man who’d never let go.

Her soul grew painful with need, with an emotion unlike anything she’d ever before felt. “I have something for you.”

He tugged her over the perimeter line—given the size of the explosives mentioned in the e-fax, as well as those found in Nikita’s building, the blast wouldn’t make it even halfway to this distance. But no use in being stupid—they intended to wait behind a deflective wall set up by the bomb squad. And Riley didn’t stop until they were on the other side of that wall. “Yeah? What? Is it shiny?”

Her cat wanted to tease him back, but someone interrupted before she could say anything. It was Indigo. “I’ve got everyone else moving,” the lieutenant told them. “You two going to stay here?”

At their nods, she continued. “Fire crews are waiting one street over like we agreed. Soon as anything goes, they’ll haul ass.”

“Good.” Mercy glanced at her watch, holding on to her impatience with her teeth. “The tip said it was set to blow in about ten minutes.”

They both waited until Indigo had jogged away before resuming their conversation. “So,” Riley asked, “what have you got for me?”

Taking his hand, she placed it palm-down over her heart. It would hurt like a bitch, she thought, but he was hers to protect as much as she was his. “Me.” And she opened up her soul, laid herself bare.

The mating bond shoved through her body like white lightning, hot and wild and right. Incredibly, wonderfully right. His energy was different from hers—wolf, not leopard—but it laced itself with her own until their combined strength was far greater than either would’ve ever been alone. “Wow.”

He blinked, swaying on his feet. “Damn.”

She gripped his chest to keep him upright, a difficult feat since she was feeling intoxicated herself. They both almost fell over, laughed, and then they were kissing. The physical connection between them had never been in any doubt, but the mating bond added a new resonance to it, until she could feel his touch in every cell of her body. “Mmm, I like.”

Riley heard Mercy’s words but couldn’t respond, his wolf still stunned from the impact of a bond he’d always known about, but never truly understood. This wasn’t anything like he’d imagined—it was more, it was better, it was . . . damn fucking amazing. Sweeping his tongue into Mercy’s mouth, he groaned.

Some time later, he raised his head. “That building’s supposed to explode soon.”

“Hmm.” Dreamy eyes looking into his. “Who cares.”

Riley felt like agreeing. “We’re drunk.” He didn’t dare approach the subject of her sentinel bond. He could feel his own blood bond to Hawke strong and sure, which meant his precious Mercy had lost a chunk of her heart. He’d make it up to her, he vowed, love her so deep and true that it would bury the pain of that devastating loss.

However, right then, she looked so content, he didn’t want to break the moment, didn’t want to destroy their mingled joy. His mate,
his mate
had given herself to him. It was more than he’d ever expected from this wild, independent leopard he adored. Stroking a hand over her hair, he held the beauty of the moment tight to his heart, a secret treasure no one could ever take from him. Mercy’s gift. “I think,” he said through the thickness of emotion, “this is better than being drunk.”

“Yep.” She dropped her head to his chest and rubbed her face against him. He knew what she was doing—rolling in his scent. He wanted to do the same. Preferably with her all long, lean, and naked below him.

They stood there for several minutes, getting themselves under some sort of control. At long last, Mercy glanced at her watch. “One minute to time of detonation if the tip was legit.”

“I hope it wasn’t.” Because if it was, then things were going to get ugly.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know about internal Alliance politics,” Riley said, “but I don’t like the way they use up their people like they’re nothing.”

Mercy nodded. “And if they kill—Oh, my God!”

Riley followed her gaze skyward to see something plummeting in what looked like an uncontrolled dive. It was too big to be a normal bird. “Hell.” He looked around for something to cushion the blow, but the entire area was old-fashioned concrete and wood. “Flare your wings,” he said to the falling bird between gritted teeth. “Slow it.”

“Come on, come on.” Mercy rose on tiptoe, as if she could reach up and catch the other changeling.

Three seconds before impact, it was as if the falling one heard them. His wings spread, though one looked strange . . . broken, Riley realized. It slowed his descent from killing to crippling. The changeling also managed to shift his trajectory so he slammed into a pile of old wood instead of the concrete, but he came down hard, a falcon in full animal form.

They were both running before he hit, heading back toward the building. Riley hated that his mate was going into danger, but his wolf respected her strength. This was who she was, and she was perfect. The falcon lay as if dead, but when Mercy put her hand on its body, she nodded. “Alive.”

Riley gauged the bird’s weight. “Big son of a bitch.” Carrying him in animal form would be awkward, but if he was this big as a bird, he was likely bigger as a human. Bird changelings did seriously weird things with their weight when they shifted, but in general, their animal form was smaller. In the end, it took both of them.

He slid his hands under the falcon’s back half, while Mercy took the front. “Ready?”

“Go.” They headed away from the scene, knowing they only had seconds.

But they didn’t even have that. They smelled the ignition at the same moment. Riley looked at Mercy.
“Shift!”
Their animal bodies were lower to the ground, would take the impact better.

Laying down their burden even as they shifted, they covered the injured changeling with their animal forms as the world turned to fire around them.

 

 

The wolf’s howl lifted above the city, mournful, sad, so desperately sad that everyone who heard it felt their heart tremble in echoed grief. Running from the Palace of Fine Arts at a speed that made the humans in his way gasp and wonder if they’d really seen what they thought they had, Hawke followed the sound to a patch of concrete not far from a collapsed building. Dust and smoke clogged the air, but he didn’t need to see to find them.

A large gray wolf stood in front of an unconscious leopard. The wolf was licking at her muzzle, patting her face with his paw, trying to nudge her to wakefulness. But the leopard lay still, so still that it was almost as if she wasn’t breathing.

A falcon lay a little to the left. It was alive. Good enough. Hawke turned back to those who were his own and knelt down beside them. The wolf didn’t turn to look at him, all its attention focused on the fallen leopard. When Hawke went to check the leopard for injuries, he moved slowly, ensuring the wolf knew he didn’t intend to do harm. Even so, the wolf stood ready to strike, those amber eyes watching Hawke’s every move.

That was when Hawke noticed the wolf’s left back leg was broken. He didn’t tell the male to sit. Instead, he focused on finding the leopard’s injuries. The most dangerous one was obvious the instant he looked at the downed feline’s side. A massive gash split the black and gold of her soot-covered fur, probably caused by flying debris.

Hawke swore and pulled off his T-shirt to stop the blood flow. He could’ve helped the wolf, but sharing strength with a leopard was beyond his abilities. It agitated the alpha wolf inside him—this leopard, this woman, was Pack. He had to help her. “Hold on, Mercy,” he murmured, shoving a hand into his pocket to close around his cell phone.

It proved unnecessary.

Lucas ran out of the smoky haze that very instant, followed by Tamsyn. Behind Tammy and Luc, he saw two other falcons land and shift. In normal circumstances, they’d be dead for having invaded another predator’s territory, but Hawke knew they’d likely been coming in early for the meeting at the Glade.

“Lara had to stay at the hospital,” Tammy said in a quick-fire report. “One of your young men is having a bad reaction to the tranquilizer they used.” A glance at the wolf who stood in silent watch. “Can you take care of Riley?”

“He won’t let me,” Hawke informed her. “Not until Mercy’s okay.”

“Men,” Tamsyn muttered but she was already removing his wadded-up T-shirt and checking the wound. “It’s bad, but she’s a fighter. Come on, Merce.” Putting her hands over the wound, she closed her eyes.