Authors: Alexandra Ivy,Laura Wright
Tags: #Laura Wright, #Paranormal Romance, #1001 Dark Nights, #Bayou Heat, #Alexandra Ivy
A Pantera would be able to get into the loft and rescue Lucie if necessary.
Pausing to take a thorough survey of his surroundings, Rage at last moved to the bottom of the metal steps. The door was the only entry to the upper floor. As long as he could block the stairs, no one was going to get to Lucie.
He had less than a second to glance around the large, open storage room before a shadowed form was entering through an open doorway, quickly followed by one of the guards.
“What the hell…” The leader of the humans came to an abrupt halt as he caught sight of Rage in the faint moonlight that spilled in from a small window. “How did you get out?”
“Did you really think that flimsy cage was going to halt a full-blooded Pantera?” he taunted, folding his arms over his chest with a nonchalance that he hoped would unnerve his prey.
The older man scowled, glancing around the room. “Where’s the woman?”
Rage shrugged. “She already escaped.”
The goon standing behind the leader turned back toward the doorway. “I’ll get her.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” the leader snapped, pointing toward the stairs. “She’s still upstairs. We have to stop her before she can disrupt the auction.”
The goon frowned. Clearly he’d been hired for his oversized muscles, not his intelligence.
“You said it couldn’t be stopped once it started.”
“Not unless someone gains access to my computer,” the leader snarled. “I have to get up there.”
The goon nodded, grimly glancing toward Rage, who flashed a wide grin.
“I don’t doubt you have limited brain power, human, but do you really think you can take on a full-blooded Pantera?”
The man narrowed his gaze, stepping forward. “I’m not afraid of you, beast-man.”
Rage resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Beast-man?
Whatever.
“It’s your funeral,” he said, his lips twisting into a humorless smile as the goon fumbled for the gun he’d shoved into the waistband of his jeans.
Sloppy.
The tight material meant that he couldn’t draw his weapon cleanly. It was all the opening that Rage needed.
With a low growl, he leaped forward, grabbing the man by the neck. His fingers sank into the thick muscles, lifting the heavy body off the ground. Reaching down, he grabbed the weapon and tossed it into the corner. He didn’t want to attract any more guards with the sound of gunfire.
Distantly, he was aware of the older man rushing toward the stairs, but he wasn’t foolish enough to allow his attention to stray from the man who was struggling to get free of Rage’s iron grip. The goon might be human, but he’d been injected with Pantera blood, which meant he was faster, stronger, and possessed more endurance than a normal person.
Squeezing even tighter, he grimly shoved the man against the wall, trying to avoid the kicks that were aimed at his knees. Was the bastard half mule? At the same time, he was forced to dodge the massive fists that were aimed at his face.
His grip, however, never faltered.
The man grunted, his face turning a strange shade of puce as his eyes slowly glazed over. Still, it was several minutes later before the large body at last went limp and Rage allowed him to drop to the floor. Then, just to make sure that the goon wasn’t faking, he stepped forward and kicked him in the face with enough force the make his head slam back against the wall.
Okay, it wasn’t just to ensure he was truly unconscious.
He wanted the bastard to pay for hurting Lucie.
For now a busted nose, split lip, and concussion would have to do.
Confident the man wasn’t going to be moving for several hours, Rage paused to suck in a deep breath. He could smell the other human guard two floors down, no doubt watching the entrance.
Which meant he only had to worry about the man who had climbed the stairs and was currently pounding on the door of the loft, as if that would magically make it open.
Climbing the steps in two long leaps, he watched in satisfaction as the human turned to stare at him in blatant horror. It was always nice when his prey had the opportunity to regret making an enemy of the Pantera.
Licking his lips, the leader pressed his back against the door and lifted his hands in a pleading gesture.
“Look, there’s no reason we can’t work together,” the man said, beads of sweat trickling down his thin face. “There’s going to be plenty of money to share.”
Rage curled his upper lip in disgust. “You think I would betray my people for money?”
“What do you want? Women? Power?”
A growl rumbled in Rage’s chest. “Your head mounted on my wall.”
The man shook his head. “There has to be something––”
His words broke off as the door was suddenly wrenched open from inside to reveal Lucie. She flashed a smile as she caught sight of Rage and the trembling human.
“It’s done,” she said with blatant satisfaction.
“Done?” The man paled as he glanced over Lucie’s shoulders to his table of computer equipment.
Rage didn’t bother asking technical questions. It wasn’t like he was going to understand Geek-speak. If Lucie said it was done…it was done.
As simple as that.
Which meant it was time for him to complete his job.
Reaching out, he grabbed the man by the material of his designer shirt, roughly hauling him down the steps and out of the storage room.
“No.” The human squirmed, futilely attempting to dig in his heels, and Rage hauled him across the floor to the long bank of windows that overlooked the river. “We can make a deal,” he rasped. “Just tell me your price.”
“My price?” With a quick motion, Rage had the man lifted off his feet and with one brutal movement, he was shoving him through the nearest window. “This is my price.”
There was the sound of glass shattering and a shrill scream as the man flew out the window and down to the parking lot below. He landed with a sickening thud.
Moving forward, Rage studied the limp form that was spread eagle on the pavement, his lips twitching as he watched the second guard dash out of the building to take in the sight of his dead leader. The guard glanced up to catch sight of Rage, his face draining of color before he was ducking his head and running away like a true coward.
Rage shook his head. The Pantera that surrounded the area would catch the idiot before he managed to escape.
Which meant that his job was done. At least for now.
Stepping away from the window, he turned to discover Lucie standing just a few feet away, studying him with a faint smile.
“Happy now?”
“Not yet,” he admitted, prowling forward to wrap his arms tightly around her slender curves. Instantly his cat purred in approval, savoring the knowledge his female was safe and exactly where she needed to be. Tucked against his body. Planting a kiss on the top of her head, he sucked in a deep breath of her primrose scent. “But I intend to take you back to the Wildlands and get very, very happy.”
Rage watched his female with a growing sense of frustration.
Okay, he was delighted to see her surrounded by a crowd of admiring Geeks as she explained exactly how she’d managed to destroy over a hundred computer systems, expose two terrorist cells to Homeland Security, and nearly topple the dictator of a small country.
She deserved every single pat on the back, not to mention more than one apology for not reaching out to her years ago.
But, enough was enough.
This was
his
female.
He wanted some up close and personal time.
No doubt sensing he was on the edge of shoving his way through the crowd that filled the long meeting room on the top floor of the Diplomats headquarters, Parish moved to stand at his side, placing a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“She’s a hero,” the leader of the Hunter’s softly murmured.
“Yep,” Rage readily agreed, his heart swelling with pride. “It was a brilliant idea to booby-trap the payload.”
While Rage had been dealing with the humans, his genius mate had been layering the files that were being auctioned with a hidden code. It was the sort of snare only a hacker could have created.
“And even more brilliant to make sure that they were all chosen as the highest bidder. Every asshole involved in the auction was hit with the nasty virus that created a backdoor that Xavier could use to download the information from the computers involved before wiping their hard drives.”
Rage chuckled. “Xavier said that the howls of pain were epic across the Internet.”
“And most blame Benson Enterprises,” Parish said, soul-deep pleasure shimmering in his golden eyes. They were all celebrating the chance to strike such a decisive blow against their enemies. “It will be a while before Christopher recovers from this latest catastrophe.”
Rage grimaced. None of them would be safe until they managed to track down the mysterious leader of Benson Enterprises and put an end to him.
Thankfully, that was someone else’s problem. For tonight, Rage intended to devote himself to his beautiful mate.
First, however, there was a question that had been nagging at him.
“Are you going to tell me why you sent me to find Lucie instead of going yourself?” he demanded of his companion.
Parish smiled. “Because I knew that Lucie was always fascinated by you.” The older man rolled his eyes. “The goddess knows why. But since she is more deserving of happiness than anyone else I know, I thought I would try my hand at playing cupid.”
Rage narrowed his gaze. “So you set me up?”
“Absolutely.”
Rage abruptly wrapped his arms around the large man and gave him a hug. “I owe you one, my man.”
“Stop that.” Parish shoved him away, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “And don’t think I won’t collect your debt.”
“Later.” Squaring his shoulders, Rage prepared himself to battle his way to his mate’s side. “I have a long overdue date with my female.”
The
End
Nostrils flared, green eyes narrowed, Rosalie sprinted across the clearing toward the border. Overhead, the quarter moon was barely visible behind a wash of gray clouds.
A storm was coming.
From above.
And from below.
Rosalie’s cat grinned with feral menace as she slowed just enough to weave in and out of a trio of massive cypress. Most of the Pantera either feared the truth of the latter—humans invading the Wildlands—or hoped the threat would just go away and the Pantera would be left in peace once again. Hidden once again. But not Rosalie and her cat. They were looking—hoping—for bloodshed.
Human bloodshed.
Thunder growled around her, fueling her desire. Every night now she’d taken to prowling these lands, the border. From dusk to sunrise. Alone. Granted, she never started off alone. That wasn’t the Hunter way. Normally, she was put in a group of three. But inevitably, conveniently, she lost them. Ditched them. Most of the other Hunters liked to patrol in their two-legged form; talking, discussing what they’d done that day as well as the strategy for the night’s watch. Rosalie wasn’t interested in chitchat, planning, or donning her female form. She preferred a solo hunt these days and the protective layer of her puma. Her cat preferred it too. Its heart was heavy and needy.
Pain.
Loss.
Mercier
.
The puma’s belly contracted with the thought of the massive gold cat, and the broad, sable-eyed male who’d been her lover and friend and…savior. Were they looking down at her, watching her? Cat and male. Two separate entities in the beyond. Did they miss her as she missed them?
Night consumed the sky above now, its inky blackness interrupted only by a fissure of diamond-colored lightning every now and again. Rosalie’s ears pricked up, catching the cries of Bayon and Jazz about a quarter mile off. Near the east border. They were looking for her. Probably worried about her. All the Hunters seemed to be, even though she’d assured them she was fine. That she’d forgiven Hiss, the Hunter male who’d indirectly brought on Mercier’s death. That she’d moved on. They didn’t believe her lies. Oh, that ever-present expression of concern on their faces. It was irritating as hell. Parish had even gone so far as to insist she take time off. Said that dealing with both her mate’s death and the trauma of the abduction that had nearly claimed her life too, was vital to her sanity and productivity.
But Rosalie didn’t do time off.
She was in.
Always in.
Even more so as the war between the humans and the Pantera gained ground. And intensity.
The scent of her kind rushed her nostrils as she neared the bayou. She opened her mouth and inhaled deeply. Not Bayon and Jazz. Nor any Hunter she knew. A whisper of unease moved through her as the sound of splashing lured her closer. Who would be swimming at this hour? Two Pantera…lovers, perhaps? Her lip curled. That’s all she needed tonight.
Foolish, unthinking cats. Playing in the water while the enemy lurks right outside our borders.
And sometimes inside them as well.
She’d give them a stern talking-to. Or her claws would.
She stalked through the thick foliage, ready to pounce, to scare the shit out of some Geeks or Suits or Healers. But she only found one female Healer. And something else entirely.
In that moment, Rosalie ceased to exist, and her cat took full control, an event that was happening a lot lately.
“Fuck, woman,” a deep male voice barked from the sleepy waters of the bayou. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, ears pricked, Rosalie’s cat remained behind a moss-coated cypress. She wanted to spring. Attack. Without even knowing what was happening. She didn’t care. No. The cat didn’t care.
It scented human.
“You can’t come here,” a female cried out.
No. Not a female, Rosalie puma’s confirmed. Not a woman, either. One of the rescued lab rats who had come to stay in the Wildlands. Something halfway between Pantera and human. Rosalie narrowed her eyes on the female figure in the water. She worked with the Healers. Karen…that was her name. She deserved claws and fangs herself for even engaging with this enemy.