Turning Payne (3 page)

Riley's heart had officially stopped beating, she was sure of it.

No, no, no. This wasn't right.

In front of her stood the most magnificent and terrifying creature she had ever seen. Twice the size of the lion that had been in her sister's bed, its head crowned in a glorious dark mane, it watched her with intense silver eyes.

C'mon Riley, wake up.
How hard had she hit her head?

She bit her lip and swallowed past the lump in her throat. If she hadn't seen the transformation with her own eyes, she never would've believed it was possible. Even now, she had her doubts.

In what couldn't have been more than a few heartbeats, he'd transformed from a smoking hot, extremely naked man, into a lion.

No, not a lion—a
werelion
—that was what Turner had called it. Called
himself
.

She shivered and rubbed the goosebumps that prickled her arms.

I've been sucked into one of Kiera's twisted sci-fi novels.

She considered herself a grounded person, a realist. Kiera was the flighty one, always brimming with imagination and dreaming up crazy ideas. How would her sister react if she were here, staring into the eyes of very large, very scary lion? A lion that had been a man only a few moments before.

Strong, thick jaw, heavy paws, rippling muscles under golden fur—he was incredible. Scary, yes, but also beautiful. She'd never been this close to a wild animal before, but then he wasn't really an animal.
Was he?

Riley rubbed her temples, not taking her eyes off him. She winced when she touched the bump on her head. The room spun and her stomach lurched. She exhaled slowly and pushed through the nausea.

What had happened to her sister? If Riley believed what Turner had said, then her sister had magically—
no, genetically
—transformed into a lion. A hysterical laugh escaped her lips as reality seemed to punch her straight in the gut.

How was any of this possible?

Turner's simplified explanation of chromosomal abnormalities didn't correlate with her knowledge of genetics. Two degrees and six years of post-secondary education had done nothing to prepare her for what she faced now.

The lion moved towards her. Riley grabbed the edge of the bed and sat down.

Placing its large muzzle in Riley's lap, a soft hum vibrated from the animal's chest.

Was it purring?
She could feel the heat of his breath on her bare legs. Oh God, this was seriously happening.

I won't hurt you.
The words vibrated through her mind, as if Turner had spoken them aloud.

She wanted to leap backwards on the bed, but the lion's heavy head held her immobilized.

A warmth, like the one she'd felt in the living room, washed over her, and she expelled a shuddering breath.

With slight hesitation, she reached out and stroked the thick fur of his mane. The hair was course, and yet soft at the same time. His eyes closed and the hum in his chest became a more distinguished rumble.

"Sorry," she said, pulling her hand back.

This was no illusion. She could see him, feel him, smell him. She inhaled the rich, musky scent. Not even a brain aneurysm could cause such a vivid hallucination.

"All right. As insane as this is, I believe you." What other choice did she have?

The lion's nostril's flared.

Someone is here
. Turner's voice resonated in her head.

"Kiera? Riley?" A male voice echoed down the hall. "Are you here?"

"Shit. It's Marcus." No other man could sound so irritatingly pompous and annoyingly boyish at the same time. The lion crouched low and bared his teeth. "I'll deal with it." She pushed herself off the bed, and as a second thought pointed her finger at him and ordered, "
Stay.
"

He responded with a low guttural growl.

She shook her head and slipped out the door, closing it behind her.

Marcus was bent over, studying something invisible on the ceramic tile of the foyer.

The stench of his cologne made Riley sneeze.

He quickly shoved whatever he had been looking at in his pocket and stood. His eyes widened when he glanced at her. "Christ, Riley. What happened?"

She touched her head, feeling the dried blood that had caked in her hair. "I tripped over the coffee table. I'm fine."

He took a step towards her. "You don't look fine."

Ice seeped down her spine as Marcus' dark gaze roamed over her body. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her chest. "What are you doing here?""             

His gaze darted over her shoulder in the direction of her sister's bedroom. "I'm here to see Kiera."

She stepped in front of him when he started towards the bedroom. "She's not here."

Red creeped up his neck and his gaze narrowed. "Where is she?"

God, he was acting weirder than normal. "Why?"

"I was supposed to meet Kiera for coffee. She didn't show. I tried calling her cell, but she's not picking up."

Coffee? Really Kiera?

The guy was a creep. Stalker material. What was her sister thinking leading him on like that? Since their father's death, Marcus hovered over them like a long-lost relative seeking out the family's hidden gems.
Too bad they didn't have any.

"Like I said, she's not here."

"Where—is—she?" With each overly pronounced word, he took a menacing step towards her.

What the hell?

She knew he had a few screws loose, but this macho business was a bit much, even for him.

Before she had a chance to tell Marcus where to go, a large, muscular, arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against an extremely naked chest.

"She's with my brother." Turner said, barely concealing a low growl that vibrated against her back. "They hooked up last night. If I know Chase, I doubt they'll be out of bed before dinner. Now, if you don't mind we were kind of in the middle of something before you showed up."

Too stunned to respond, Riley looked over her shoulder, mouth agape at the smoking hot man who had just insinuated that they had spent the night together. Not that the thought repulsed her. Every nerve ending in her body decided to go on high alert the moment Turner touched her.

Marcus' lips twitched in a snarl as he looked to Riley for confirmation.

Better to have him believe she had hooked up with Mr. Hottie, than to know the truth. She needed answers, and she wasn't going to get any with Marcus poking around.

She nodded towards the door. "I'll let Kiera know you stopped by."

He ignored her and pierced Turner with a cynical look. "Do I know you?"

Turner scratched the dark stubble on his jaw. "Don't think so."

Marcus' face turned a deep shade of red, and the vein above his temple looked like it was ready to explode. If Turner was trying to piss the man off he'd succeeded.

"The SUV out front, is it yours?" Marcus bit out through clenched teeth.

Turner stiffened. "It is."

Silence stretched between them. An uncomfortable, tension-filled silence.

Turner's arm was still wrapped intimately around her waist, and despite the heat that radiated off his chest, Riley shivered.

Marcus glowered at her for a moment before turning to leave. He hesitated at the door, his hand hovering over the knob. He looked over his shoulder and pinned Turner with a knowing stare. "Good thing you didn't get a ticket for parking on the street overnight. Cops are constantly patrolling this area."

Gripping her tight against his body, Turner pushed her hair off her neck and nipped at her ear. "Must have been my lucky night."

Riley felt her face flush at the double innuendo and tried to ignore the other areas of her body that burned from the heat of his touch.

Marcus breathed out roughly before opening the door and slamming it behind him.

She let out a slow breath in relief.

"He'll be back," Riley said breathlessly.

"Then I'll deal with him," Turner murmured, his mouth still near her ear.

He held her close. So close she could feel every rigid, well-defined muscle, including the one that was currently pressed against her backside.

A small sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it.
What was wrong with her?
Her sister had turned into a freaking lion and all she could think about was lion-man's long fingers, stroking over—
Enough, Riley
.

She shook her head. "He's gone. You can let go of me now."

His hands lingered a moment before he finally released her and took a step back.

She walked to the door and twisted the deadbolt. When she spun around Turner was watching her. Wavy black hair fell across his forehead and framed the perfectly sculpted features of his face. High cheekbones, thick inky lashes surrounding mysterious silver blue eyes, well-molded lips, and a body that Narcissus would be jealous of.

He was gorgeous. And, he was also werelion. Not to mention that as far as she knew, he was the only person able to help her sister. She should've been terrified of him, but she wasn't.

She took a deep breath and rubbed her bare arms. "So…What do we do now?"

"Go have a shower. Get cleaned up. We'll talk about it when you put some clothes on."

Clothes, yes clothes were a good idea. Especially on him. "But, Kiera's all right? If you can change back and forth, then she can too?"

The look that he gave her made the hairs on her arm stand on end.

"It isn't that simple."

"But you can help her, right?"

"We're working on it." He let out a frustrated sigh. "The Council has everyone working day and night to solve this fucking mess."

Riley paused, not understanding. What Council, and what mess? "If she's a shapeshifter, then why can't she shift back?"

"She's not a shifter. Not technically anyways."

"But you said—"

"Look, it's complicated. We don't know why or how these people are shifting, but we're trying to figure it out."

Riley felt the blood drain from her face. "Kiera's not the only one?"

"We have scientists trying to figure out how to reverse the process. Until then…"

Riley's head spun and she had to place a hand on the wall to keep her balance.  "She's a lion."

Turner did a sweep of the house while Riley showered. He found nothing that proved Boyd was still alive or connected the bastard to the recent spontaneous shiftings.

Standing in the middle of the basement office, Turner rubbed his palms over his aching eyes. Maybe his brother was right—
he was chasing a ghost.

But who, other than Boyd, had both a warped mind and the knowledge to fuck with genetics in such a way?

He picked up a glass trophy from the large mahogany desk. Encrusted in gold print, it read:
American Society of Human Genetics, Advocacy Award
,
Dr. Richard Boyd
.

Turner snorted and shook his head.

"What are you doing down here?" Riley stood in the doorway, her plump pink lips turned down in a frown. 

God, he was losing it. He hadn't heard her come downstairs, but her scent hit him now like liquid fire, and his cock twitched uncomfortably as she approached. His animal senses seemed to be fuddled today, almost muted.

He feigned a look of innocence, held up the trophy and gave her a smile that he hoped would take her mind off the fact that he had been snooping through her things. "Just looking around. Lots of cool stuff down here."

Riley tucked her damp hair behind her ears. With her face clean of make-up, the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose was visible. "My father won that the year he died," she said, taking the trophy. Her mouth tilted up in a sad smile as she ran her fingers over the engraved letters

Her breasts rose and fell beneath the thin blue tank, and the tight jeans she wore accentuated her small waist. His gaze followed the gentle curve of her hips, down and back up her long, perfectly sculpted legs. The lion inside him growled and paced, wanting nothing more than to possess her.

How many nights had he spent going over pictures and video surveillance of her, hoping to find some evidence that Boyd still lived? None of those photos or videos had captured her innocent sexuality or the intoxicating pheromones that flooded his senses now.

Get a grip, Payne. She's more than just a hot piece of ass. She's Richard Boyd's fucking daughter.

He sat on the edge of the desk and studied her, making sure to look no lower than eye level. "Did he talk much about his work?"

Riley shrugged and placed the trophy back on the desk. "Keira and I used to joke that he loved his work almost as much as he loved us. He was married to it in a way. I suppose it's why he never remarried after our mother passed away." A shadow of pain darkened her green eyes. "It was his passion for genetics that made me go into biology. I only wish I'd had the chance to work with him, before…"

Before I killed him.
Turner dragged his fingers through his hair and exhaled a shaky breath. "Do you have any of his work here?" It was a long shot, but he had to ask.

She shook her head. "There was a fire—an explosion—in the lab he worked at. It destroyed everything."

"I'm sorry," he said. Not for Boyd's death, of course. The man deserved to die. But he was sorry for the loss Riley experienced. It wasn't her fault that her father had been a psychopathic killer, intent on dissecting and dismembering metamorphs as if they were nothing more than lab rats.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Tension hung in the air, and he could see the questions and uncertainty that raced across her expression.

"So…" She swallowed hard and wiped her palms on her pants. "You can help Keira? Make her…human again?"

Shit, right, he'd almost forgotten why he was there. Being around her dulled his brain. "I need to ask you a few questions about your sister."

"I'll tell you anything if it will help her."

He was banking on that.

Turner went through the checklist of questions he was required as a Therian agent to ask a victim's family, but nothing Riley told him gave him any new information.

"So you can't think of anything unusual, out of the ordinary? No new acquaintances?"

"No. Kiera's an introvert. When she's not working at the art studio, she's either painting or reading."

"What about the jackass from earlier?"

"Marcus DuPoint?" She shrugged. "He's always been around. He was a graduate student under my father—"

"Wait." Turner growled low in his chest. "You're telling me the asshole who's been stalking your sister used to work with Boyd?"

She flinched and took a small step away. "Yes, but—"

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Chase. He needed any information the agency had on Marcus DuPoint.

"You think Marcus has something to do with this?" She stared at him, innocent and wide-eyed.

He didn't think, he knew. If the man was connected to Boyd, he was sure to be bad news, and it could be the lead he was looking for. "If he is, I'll find out."

Her bottom lip trembled, and she looked at him as if her entire world had just come crashing down around her. He supposed it had. But if he was right about Marcus, things were only going to get worse. If the man was responsible for turning Kiera, what was stopping him from doing the same to Riley?

A possessiveness he'd never felt before gripped him, followed by a sense of dread. Was he prepared to destroy everything Riley thought she knew about the man who had raised her?

He didn't realize how intensely he watched her until she shivered under his gaze, her pupils dilating in either fear or arousal. Maybe both.

He cursed the universe for fucking with him, once again. It had been months since he'd been laid, and years since the animal within him had stirred.

Ignoring his unwanted desires, he cleared his throat and pushed himself away from the desk. "I talked to my brother when you were in the shower. He has Kiera in a safe place."

"Can I see her?"

Combing his fingers through his hair, he turned his back on her. He needed to get out of there before he did something he would regret. "I've got some business to take care of, but I'll come back this evening and pick you up. You can see her then."

"Turner?"

He stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn around. "Yeah?"

"How did you know my name? Out on the street. You knew who I was. How?"

He wasn't prepared to tell her the truth, and she sure as hell wasn't prepared to hear it. He sighed and closed his eyes. He was the king of bullshit, but for some reason the thought of lying to her any more than he had to, left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You were in the local newspaper a few months back. Recognized your face."

"Oh." Her voice trembled on the single word.

He looked over his shoulder. She looked so vulnerable that he had to stop himself from taking her in his arms and comforting her. He shook his head and pushed the unwanted thoughts out of his mind. "I'll be back around eight."