Mick wisely waited a long couple of minutes as Kyle did nothing—there was no tantrum throwing or punching through walls. That wasn’t his style. Instead he leaned his knuckles against the single table in the room and breathed, holding back his cougar.
“They want us to change locations,” he eventually gritted between clenched teeth. “Go to eastern Canada.”
“Why?”
“They’ve got some kind of base already established close to the polar bear Timik.”
At Mick’s confused frown, Kyle expanded. “Seems they were aware of some treaty between the Timik and the Keller Dare. Sarai’s part of it. She’s been assigned to live with those damn bears as some kind of sign of good faith in the treaty.”
“What’s the Coalition’s plan?” Mick asked.
The
Coalition
to which he was referring were Kyle’s partners, and, these days, his protectors. With their help, one day Kyle would be the one and only Alpha of the Shadowcat Nation. No more Alpha Council. Each dare would report directly to him or they would be eliminated. That’s what he’d been promised.
Kyle shook his head, still dissatisfied with the conversation he’d just had. Then he answered Mick’s question. “They’re preparing to stage an attack, take out that alliance before it becomes well established.”
“You can’t say they’re not smart.”
Kyle glared him. “Yes, they’re smart. They’re also cowards—getting us, the wolves, the coyotes, even the grizzlies, to do all their dirty work.”
“Then why are we aligning with them?” Mick asked.
Kyle smiled with cold satisfaction. “I have no desire to go rogue. I’ve been promised…certain things.”
Mick nodded, that explanation seeming to be enough for him. Another reason Kyle kept him around—the man didn’t question, just followed blindly. It helped that Kyle had saved Mick from numerous beatings growing up.
He’d been a scrawny, wimpy little kid, late to grow, but Sarai had once told Kyle that Mick would save his life. That had been when she’d first come to his dare as a trusting little girl. No longer though. However, her warning had made him help Mick out as a child. That Mick had grown into a massive cougar and a mean fighter had been an added bonus.
“Andie really messed things up when she killed your father,” Mick commented.
Kyle felt rage boil up inside him. Without a moment’s hesitation, he backhanded the cougar shifter, extending his claws as he did, though deliberately careful to strike with the curved side of the edges. He left three long welts across the man’s face.
“Next time you say her name I turn my hand so the claws catch you with the pointy ends,” Kyle snarled.
Mick covered his face with his hand. “Yes, sir.”
“Leave,” Kyle ordered.
Mick immediately about-faced and left the room. Kyle shook his head. Mick was less than useless when it came to brains, but the man was a brute. More important, he was loyal.
Kyle walked back to the desk and dropped into the seat behind it. He ran a finger over the grain of the very basic wood. With a hiss, he pulled his hand back to discover a long splinter in the pad of his thumb. They hadn’t exactly stuck him in the lap of luxury. At least this was only temporary.
Mick had been wrong about Andie messing things up for him.
Sarai
had done that.
True, his father, the Alpha of the Carstairs Dare, had been killed by Andie in a direct challenge for rule. Kyle had challenged Jaxon that same day, but when his father had gone down, he’d known he couldn’t win, even if he beat Keller. Not with Andie running his father’s dare. Therefore, he’d run. Better to live and conquer another day.
He knew Sarai had used her powers to orchestrate as much as she could, resulting in his eventual downfall. He’d heard her voice calling from the back of the crowd, subtly letting Andie know she’d win if she fought. Traitorous bitch. She’d pay. Right after he whelped a cub off her. A new little Seer under his complete control. Something his backers desired as well.
Still, as much as he hated both Andie and Sarai, their machinations did accomplish one thing he hadn’t been able to. They’d cleared his father out of his way. As long as Walter Carstairs had lived, Kyle would never have become Alpha.
Zac entered the hotel suite to find it empty. Sarai must’ve decided to go out and explore the city after all. After several days of hanging around the apartment just reading, according to George, she’d obviously needed to get out. Cougars didn’t handle confinement well. They were too solitary and needed too much room for that.
Pulling out his cell phone, he texted George.
“Where are you?”
“Down in the gym.”
She’d let the guys get in a workout? That was nice of her. He started walking back toward the elevator.
“What’s Sarai doing?”
“Practicing.”
Zac paused, his eyebrows raised.
“Practicing what?”
“Come see for yourself.”
Zac frowned but headed down to the basement, where the building gym was located. He saw George and Scott first. Neither man was working out. Instead, they sat off to the side watching. Zac moved a little further into the room then stilled, arrested by the sight that greeted his eyes.
Sarai stood in the center of a black rubber mat in front of a martial arts dummy. She was wearing a pair of black shorts that showed off exactly how long and toned her legs were. She also wore a sports bra with no shirt. Zac pulled his mind away from what the sight of all that skin was doing to his body and keyed in on the fact that anyone with half a brain could see exactly how fit she was. He doubted there was an ounce of fat anywhere on her lean body.
But, more importantly, she was also clearly trained. At the moment she was practicing a series of kicks, punches, and countermoves with the dummy. She was fast, deft, and accurate, the moves ingrained into muscle memory. Zac held in a growl. Andie had never said anything about Sarai knowing martial arts. He didn’t like to be surprised.
But, as he watched Sarai run through her exercises, his frustration quickly morphed into fascination. She was fast. So fast, that often he didn’t see her move until she’d struck. Her movements were fluid, graceful, and, based on the impact to the dummy, deceptively forceful.
He stood there, unnoticed, while her concentration was fully on her movements. He watched for the next half-hour as she worked her body hard. Finally, she turned away from the dummy with a grin. “Too bad we don’t have a place where I can—”
She cut herself off when she saw Zac standing there. Her smile disappeared. “I…didn’t realize you were back,” she finally said. She walked over to where he stood and grabbed a towel off a stack on the table. “How’d it go today?”
“Good.”
“What was it exactly?”
“We’re selling some of the land we own here. Just working through some of the details.”
“Oh.” She bent down to pull a chilled bottle of water out of a small fridge and took a long swig. “Why?”
Zac watched a bead of sweat roll down her neck, over her chest, between the swells of her breasts. After seeing her in only very conservative clothes, this sudden display of skin was damn sexy. With effort he pulled his eyes back to her face. He recognized diversionary tactics when he saw them and wouldn’t be distracted from getting the information he wanted. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Where do you think?”
He should have figured. Andie was Sarai’s best friend and one of the best fighters he’d ever met. “She never told me you had fighting skills.”
“Well…it
was
a secret. She risked her life teaching me. She said I needed to be able to defend myself.”
“She was right. What style was that?” Andie was an expert at multiple forms of hand-to-hand combat, thought she preferred the more acrobatic, brutal method of Krav Maga. What Sarai had just been doing was something else entirely.
“That was mostly wing chung, a type of kung fu. Or, more specifically, it was Jeet Kune Do.”
Zac tipped his head to the side. “Bruce Lee’s fighting style?”
Sarai confirmed his question with a brief nod. “It’s a more fluid, adaptive methodology with less prescribed movement.”
“How often do you train?”
“Daily when I can. We hid this from Carstairs, so that hasn’t always been possible. I’ve been taking advantage of my newfound freedom at the Keller Dare since I’ve been there.”
He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I never saw you.”
“I still practiced very early in the morning.” She lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. “Some habits are hard to break,” she muttered.
Zac nodded. “How do you do sparring?”
A fair question. Some people were very technically proficient but lost all focus when faced with reacting to other fighter’s movements. Sarai said nothing for a moment.
She glanced at George and Scott. “I don’t spar.”
She was holding back again. Over the last few weeks, he’d come to realize that when her answers got short, or evasive, she was hiding something. He looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment. “Why? No one available?”
She took another swig of water. Instead of answering she said, “You mind if we head upstairs. I need to shower before I start on dinner.”
“Sure.” The four of them headed toward the elevators.
“So…why no sparring?” he prompted while they waited for the doors to open.
Sarai’s lips thinned. She glanced toward George and Scott again. “No one wanted to risk a Seer’s neck,” she said finally.
Zac rocked back on his heels. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it with an audience. Okay. Then he’d approach her later, alone. “Fair enough.”
The elevator doors slid silently open letting them move inside.
Zac noticed how Sarai stepped well away from him as they entered. Prompted by some devilry that made him want to test a theory, Zac followed her, standing perhaps a little closer than was necessary. They had plenty of room in the large elevator car, but he placed himself directly beside her, crowding her a bit. She threw him a startled glance before facing forward.
Zac watched her intently out of the corner of his eye. Did he make her uncomfortable? He shifted slightly closer and noticed as she took a small step away.
The elevator stopped at the first floor, where several people got on. Zac inched even closer to Sarai. She bumped her elbow into the wall as she tried to step back. He heard her muffled
oomf
and had to hold back a chuckle. She was definitely trying to keep her distance. The question was why? Was she intimidated? Scared? Attracted? Why did that thought have his body jumping to attention?
They stopped at a mid-floor to let the other riders off.
“What were you saying when you stopped practicing?” George asked. “Too bad we don’t have a place for you to…what?”
Zac lowered his arms to his sides in a casual move. He felt Sarai tense beside him as his right hand just barely brushed against her left.
“Oh…nothing,” she muttered. She crossed her arms, effectively taking her hand away from his touch, though not before he felt her shiver.
Very interesting indeed.
“You looked too excited for it to be nothing,” George said, unaware of the subtle byplay going on between them.
The elevator doors opened at their floor and she was out in a flash. Zac could practically hear the deep breath she sucked in once free of his stifling presence. What was going on with her?
“It was silly.” Sarai shook her head as she answered George.
Jeez, this woman was stubborn when she wanted to be.
“Sarai—” Zac started as he unlocked the door to go into their apartment.
“I really like the training dummy, though,” she cut him off. “Nice to have that down there. Jaxon also has some really nice facilities, which I enjoyed. At least I’ll be able to keep up with some of it here.” Then she high-tailed it to her room, leaving the three men staring in her wake.
“I think you make her nervous, boss,” Scott said.
Zac scowled. “Why do you say that?”
The younger shifter glanced at George, who only raised his eyebrows. “She acts a lot more…errr…skittish when you’re around.”
Zac looked at George, who shrugged. The older man’s version of agreement.
“Hmmm,” was all he said. “Well, next time she goes to the gym, let me know,” he instructed.
He damn sure was going to be there. He wanted to find out the real reason why she didn’t want to spar. That comment about not risking a Seer’s neck hadn’t rung true. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little proximity therapy with her as well. They were going to be in each other’s pockets for the foreseeable future. She needed to get used to him. Trust was important in this relationship.
And, for some unknown reason, important to Zac personally.
He wanted her trust.
Sarai gritted her teeth in frustration. Catching George’s discerning gaze on her, she quickly changed the grimace to a smile as she examined yet another incomprehensible piece of artwork she didn’t care a whit about.
She’d just spent the entire day wandering the streets and shops of Manhattan with her two new best buddies on her heels. She’d gone out today with the intention of figuring out her plan of escape from the city. Getting out of the hotel, or away from her shadows at all, was really the bigger problem. Today had shown her exactly how difficult that would be. She’d tried to lose Scott and George accidentally on purpose. A couple of times.
She’d attempted to ditch them in the masses crossing an intersection at Times Square. An impressive place with all its digital signage and constant bustle. She’d changed direction, trying to double back, but George managed to stick with her. When he’d caught up to her on the corner, she’d told him her earring had fallen out and she’d gone back to get it.
At Macy’s she’d bored them to tears as she’d spent an inordinate amount of time at the clothes racks. Then she left the store without them, had even managed to get a few steps away from the door. George found her again. She pretended she’d been looking for
them
.
Now they were at the one of the many museums in the city. Modern art was not her thing for the most part, but she feigned interest anyway. When she felt her bodyguards were suitably distracted, Sarai slipped into another large, open room, ostensibly to look at more paintings hung on stark white walls. This time she timed how long it took them to find her. Less than a minute passed before George showed up—not much of a window.