Trusting the Magic Cait Miller Book 3 in the Shifting Magic series.
Shapeshifter Nick Douglass flew to Scotland to help a friend but very quickly found that he was the one in need of rescue. Imprisoned and tortured by a man who‟ll stop at nothing to gain the secrets of his people, Nick knows his only hope for salvation lies in the hands of one of his captors. All her life, Abby has done as she‟s told, even when she hates it…until Nick. The shockingly erotic dreams they share draw them together, but Nick can‟t risk revealing the secrets he‟s fought so hard to protect. Failing to mate with Abby might cost him his humanity, but mating with her might come at the expense of shifters everywhere.
Ellora‟s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Trusting the Magic ISBN 9781419934452 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Trusting the Magic Copyright © 2011 Cait Miller Edited by Meghan Conrad Cover design and photography by Syneca Model: Kory Electronic book publication October 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora‟s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora‟s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher‟s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author‟s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author‟s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.
TRUSTING THE MAGIC Cait Miller
Dedication For the Sizzling Scribes. A better group of cheerleaders I could never hope to find. I would never have done it without you all.
Glossary Ceangal (Kea al) — Bond Dearbh Ceangal (D‟ earav Kea al) — Proven Bond Fìor cèile (Fiar K‟ ehli) — True mate
Cait Miller
Prologue Abigail Westford perched nervously on a rock on top of the small hill and watched her little white car sitting in the middle of the road twenty feet away. Its headlights illuminated the stretch of single-track road directly in front of it but all around was darkness, broken only by the faint blue-white glow of patches of snow. There wasn‟t a sign of human habitation for miles—it was perfect. It had taken her hours to drive the length of the route and back to find the best place to lie in wait. Now all she needed to do was be patient. The freezing wind nipped at her and she shivered, pulled her black woolen hat over the tops of her ears and shrank into the thick fur collar of her black jacket. Her breath puffed out in small white clouds in the cold night air and she tucked her hands under her arms to warm them. Her eyes strained against the darkness as she waited for any sign of a vehicle, while her brain went around and around. She was doing the right thing. She was. There was just no way she could have left anyone in that situation. Maybe she should have tried another email, or a phone call. Or perhaps she could have shown up in person but she hadn‟t wanted to be held accountable for his actions. No, she had tried to stay out of it, to do it the easy way, but she had been fooled for too long while he covered his tracks. She had no choice but to take some kind of action herself. There. The lights of the van swept up the hillside towards her, the incline slowing it down considerably. She gritted her teeth and waited. The vehicle rounded the bend and disappeared from sight momentarily. When it came around the corner, its headlights swept over her, momentarily blinding her, before shining on her beloved car. The driver leaned on his horn, swerving to avoid the little vehicle, and Abby murmured a silent prayer. The van‟s tires screeched as the driver fought to brake on the narrow, icy road, then skidded and crashed into the ditch. The heavy vehicle toppled half onto its side, the impact shattering one of the lights, and rocked to a halt. Abby jumped to her feet, her whole body shaking with relief, and slipped and slid down the frozen embankment and across the road. She pulled the tranquilizer gun and handcuffs from the deep pockets of her jacket and clambered up to open the van door. The driver was slumped over the steering wheel and, for a sickening second, she was terrified that she might have killed him. A quick check revealed that he was merely unconscious. “This is a good thing. If he‟s unconscious, I don‟t have to worry about getting him into these bloody handcuffs,” she reassured herself breathlessly, digging the keys out of his jacket. Abby jumped back down, shoving the keys and restraints back in her own
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pocket. If she moved quickly and got this done before he came around, she wouldn‟t need them. Even better, she could get away without being seen and without needing to worry about finding a way to free him. It was too secluded an area and far too cold to leave it to chance that someone would find him before hypothermia set in. She really didn‟t need anything else on her conscience. At first, when she opened the back doors, all she saw was darkness. Then, from one corner came a menacing growl. Once her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she saw the cage tilted diagonally against one wall. Inside, pale-blue eyes gleamed at her from a midnight-dark feline face. He bared his teeth and snarled. Abby felt his rage, his confusion and fear, and it made her want to weep. “It‟s all right, it‟s okay,” she murmured, bringing the tranquilizer gun up from her side. “Let‟s get you out of there, Nick.”
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Chapter One Eighteen months earlier A quick glimpse out of the plane window showed the ground was alarmingly close, even hidden as it was in early-morning mist. Nick closed his eyes, fingers tightening on the arms of the seat as he waited for the inevitable moment of contact. He felt sweat beading on his upper lip and couldn‟t bring himself to let go for long enough to wipe it away. He curled his toes inside his worn sneakers and tried to concentrate on counting and breathing deeply, but his anxiety was getting the better of the relaxation techniques he‟d been taught. At last he heard the screech of the wheels touching the tarmac and felt the jolt as the weight of the plane settled onto them fully. He couldn‟t help tensing further as he felt the pilot fully engage the brakes and put the flaps down. For a moment it seemed that the plane wouldn‟t slow down and he tried not to think about them skidding off the end of the runway. He tried not to picture them exploding into flames. Really. Finally, before his imagination could bring on a full-scale panic attack—and wouldn‟t that be embarrassing?—the plane slowed to a very sedate crawl and the stewardess‟s voice came over the intercom, thanking them for using their airline and reeling off the time and weather in Glasgow. Nick only heard about half of it. His head fell back against the seat and he let out a shuddering breath of relief. He ran a hand through his black hair, probably leaving it standing in messy spikes, but at this point he didn‟t care. He opened his eyes and looked around warily to see if any of his fellow businessclass passengers had noticed the six-foot, three-inch nervous wreck sitting amongst them. Thankfully, they were all engaged in gathering their belongings, totally oblivious to the fact that they had come within inches of death. In Nick‟s mind, anyway. He grinned wryly and wiped the sweat off his face discreetly, rolling his neck to rid it of the stiffness his tension had caused. He sat where he was, seat belt firmly in place, while the other passengers ignored the instructions of the crew. He never understood why people in planes were so desperate to get up and grab their stuff from the overhead bins so quickly. They would only end up standing in the aisles until the people in front of them got off, it didn‟t make it happen any quicker. Plus they asked you to keep your seat belts on for a reason and he was all for following any safety instruction he was given on a plane. That made him smile again. Admittedly, it might be the only place he followed instructions. The adrenaline rush from the landing wore off, tiredness from the overnight flight once again tugged at his senses. He never could relax enough on a plane to be able to
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sleep. Too tense, too cramped, too noisy…just too much. Nick envied those who shut their eyes and woke at their destination refreshed and ready to go. He settled in to wait as the plane taxied towards the gate. The cool morning air of the Scottish summertime rushed through the half-open window of the rental car and helped to blow most of Nick‟s cobwebs away. The rolling green hills around him helped to dispel the lingering annoyance that he had to drive in the first place. His friend Cameron Murray, who was Nick‟s whole reason for taking this trip, had failed to pick him up. Instead, Nick had been paged at the airport and given a message that he would have to make his own way to Murray House, since it wasn‟t Cameron‟s idea that he visit in the first place. The girl on the courtesy phone had even apologized and explained that Mr. Cameron had asked her to write it down exactly. Nick sighed. What had he expected? If it had been that easy to get Cam out of his lair, Nick wouldn‟t have had to come here. He was worried about Cameron, who was becoming more and more of a recluse, believing he could hide from their heritage by shutting himself away in his remote mansion like some fairy-tale monster. Nick wondered if his own brother would end up like Cam in a few years. Personally, Nick embraced his true nature. After all, who wouldn‟t love the benefits? Increased healing, senses and speed—what wasn‟t to like? And when the time came to find his mate, if he was lucky enough, he could have a bond like no other with her and he could gift her with the same abilities he would have. But no, his brother Jack was too much of a control freak to give in to his animal nature and Cameron…well, Cameron had his own reasons. Nick wasn‟t going to allow him to just throw away his life though, so here he was. Delivering software from his father‟s company was enough of a reason to come and check on his friend. He focused his attention back on the winding country road. He was almost there and it was a good thing—jet lag was beginning to catch up with him. He squinted against the bright morning light. He slipped on his sunglasses and rolled the window down farther. Nick reached to turn up the radio and changed his mind as he saw a sign announcing that there was a vehicle inspection point ahead. Sure enough, he rounded another bend and saw the yellow high-visibility jacket of a British police officer up ahead. The man waved him into a large parking place at the side of the road where several more police officers clustered around a small white trailer and a van. Nick groaned at the delay and rolled his window down as one of the officers approached. He was also wearing the luminous yellow jacket with a police patch in blue and gray on the back and a smaller one over his heart. His radio was clipped to the jacket and Nick glimpsed his black uniform through his open collar. He had his hat in his hand but pulled it into place as he walked over. “Beautiful morning, isn‟t it?” Nick said.
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The man bent to the open window and assessed Nick with cold eyes, lips tightening beneath his mustache. He smelled of onions over some god-awful aftershave and Nick resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose. “License and registration please, sir,” the officer replied. The Scottish accent was clipped and impatient. Okaaay, no small talk. Nick refrained from rolling his eyes, unclipped his seat belt and bent over to reach into the glove compartment for the rental papers. “I have them in here somewhere. It‟s a rental.” He was searching for them among the pile of maps he had picked up at the airport when he felt a sharp sting in his side followed by a spreading cold. “What the fuck!” He sat up and reached for his side in time to see the cop stand back up, syringe in his hand. Instinctively, Nick reached for the keys to start the car only to find the ignition empty. He looked back at his assailant to find the man grinning back nastily, the keys to the car dangling from his fingers. “I‟m afraid I‟m going to have to detain you, sir.” “What the hell‟s going on? Who are you?” Nick slurred. The drug swept over him, slowing his thoughts and making him dizzy. Belatedly, he flung open the door and scrambled out of the car. The man merely stepped out of the way and watched him smugly. Nick started to run, only to find his limbs weighed a ton. Within a few steps he stumbled to his hands and knees. He heard the heavy-booted footsteps of the policeman as he fell to his face, barely noticing the sting of the gravel as it scraped his skin. His whole body felt numb. Cameron. His friend would blame himself for this. The last thing Nick saw was the cold eyes of his captor as his senses dimmed. The man chuckled as he bent close to his face. “Nighty night…sir.” Consciousness crept back with the smell of bleach and the soft whir of airconditioning. Am I in a hospital? How long have I been out for? He felt like it had been five minutes but he knew it must be longer, since they‟d had time to move him somewhere. Instinctively, Nick kept his eyes closed and his body relaxed as he waited for his brain to catch up. Anger built as he remembered the drug he had been given and the phony police officer. At least, he hoped the guy was a fake—that, or the Scottish police force was seriously fucked up. Wherever he was, it was warm and he wasn‟t on the ground anymore. The surface he lay on was too soft. Except for the quiet noise of the fan, it was silent and he‟d never been in a quiet hospital. He seemed to be alone. He moved his wrists slightly and was surprised to find he wasn‟t restrained. What the hell? Slowly Nick opened his eyes and blinked against the sting of the glare from the white ceiling and walls. The room gradually came into focus and he looked around
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cautiously. He lay on a cot that was about six inches too short for him, leaving his bare feet dangling over the end. The room was about fifteen-feet square and had one wall of thick, floor-to-ceiling glass with a heavy steel door on one side. Beyond the glass was a hallway and on the wall, a surveillance camera watched him. Opposite the cot was a metal table and chair, bolted to the beige, vinyl-covered floor. And at the back wall was a metal toilet and wash basin. It appeared that privacy was not a consideration here. Lifting the olive-green blanket that covered him, he found he was naked but for his stretchy black boxer shorts. He sat up slowly and swung his legs to the floor, wincing at the ache in his ribs and back. There were lurid purple bruises on both sides of his abdomen and he wondered fleetingly if he‟d be peeing blood later. Apparently someone had introduced him to their boot while he was unconscious. He was glad he hadn‟t been awake to enjoy it. He had grazes on his palms and his face from when he had fallen trying to escape but his hands had been cleaned and he assumed his face also. So they must want him relatively healthy. Nick walked to the window and glared at the camera. “Hey, assholes! Wanna tell me what I‟m doing here?” The unblinking red eye stared back. “If this is about money, you‟ve got the wrong guy!” Not strictly true. Nick had money. As did his parents, since they owned a successful software company, but his captors were welcome to argue with him. He shook his head in disgust at the lack of response and started to walk back to the cot when an intercom hissed to life. “Welcome, Nick.” The voice sounded like something he had heard on BBC Scotland. Cultured and friendly, amused. “You are most assuredly the right man. I‟m afraid I don‟t need your money, though in a roundabout way you may provide me with more of my own in the end.” Nick paced back to the window with short, angry steps. “Who are you and what do you want from me?” he said through gritted teeth. “All will be explained in time. You and I will be spending quite a lot of time together. In the meantime why don‟t you make yourself comfortable in your new quarters? You will find clothing at the foot of the bed.” Nick pounded on the glass with his fist as the intercom fell silent. He paced with impotent fury as his eyes traveled over the spartan room, looking for something to help him escape. There was nothing. They had been very careful when designing their prison. Facilities like this needed funding, something they apparently had. Who were they? At the moment, all he could do was keep his eyes and ears open and wait. His brother and Cameron would be looking for him; it was only a matter of time until the cavalry arrived. Four days later Nick had discovered it was true that time was relative. At least he thought it was four days, judging by how often they had turned out the lights. Four days without any kind of human contact except for the person who brought his meals.
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There had been five different men so far, all dressed in white lab coats, and none of them had so much as made eye contact while sliding the plastic tray through the slot in the door. None of them reacted when he spoke. He felt like he was invisible and it was making him crazy. At first he had refused to eat or drink anything but it hadn‟t seemed to bother them. He had thought about keeping the trays but what would it gain him? Everything on them was paper or plastic and the cell was bad enough without adding the stink of rotting food to the smell of his own body. He had done his best to clean up in the small sink but there was only so much he could do with water and the shirt from the blue hospital scrubs. On day three, he had decided to risk the food. He hadn‟t been able to smell any drugs tainting it and, twenty-four hours later, there had been no ill effects. He paced the floor restlessly. Nick already knew every screw, every crack in the tiles intimately. He thought about doing some more exercise but decided to save that excitement for later. Nick was a sociable guy and rarely a day went by when he didn‟t spend time with someone. This enforced solitude was more effective than perhaps his captors realized. He glared at the fixed red eye of the camera and barely resisted the urge to punch the thick glass. Were they trying to bore him to death? Fate could be a bitch sometimes and he should have known better than to taunt her. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Nick became aware of a hissing sound. He looked towards the source—the ceiling vent—and stepped into the corner, as far as he could get from it. It was a futile effort, he knew, but he couldn‟t just stand there and do nothing. Within moments, his sensitive nose picked up the metallic scent of the gas. Fear was bitter in his mouth and he hated himself for it. He felt the effect of the gas in the heaviness of his limbs and his heart sped up as the room began a slow revolution. He wondered where—or if—he would wake up this time. Professor Robert Westford watched as his latest subject slid to the floor, finally succumbing to the sedation. He did like it when they fought. He supposed that might make him a little twisted but one found one‟s pleasures where one could, and the look of fear and helpless anger on his subjects‟ faces was one of his guilty pleasures. A few moments passed while the fans cleared the cell of gas and two of his assistants went in to retrieve the sleeping creature. The professor turned from the monitor and slipped on a fresh white coat. He would take this one slowly. He had many new theories to test out as well as the usual data to collect. Perhaps this would be the one.
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Chapter Two He was hard, so hard. Nick moaned as the soft lips caressed his erection. She ran her tongue along his length, pausing at the sensitive crown to tease its underside before engulfing it in warm, wet heat. He looked down into the sweet face of his tormentor and furrowed his hands into her soft brown hair, cupping her head as he pushed slowly into her mouth. Her brown eyes fluttered closed and she moaned her pleasure. The vibration threatened to make his knees buckle. Emotion threatened to drown him. His, hers. Desire, longing…love? It took his breath and made his eyes burn. She fisted the base of his cock, squeezing gently, and sucked while Nick pulled back. Again and again he worked his shaft into her mouth, the force of his arousal making his body tremble and his eyes close. Stealing his control. He felt the warning tingle at the base of his spine, his balls drawing up close to his body, his muscles tightening. He growled as orgasm pulsed through him. His eyes opened and he found himself looking at white ceiling tiles. Nick groaned, mourning the loss of the dream and the doe-eyed lover he often dreamed of. The freedom of it. His feelings for her were deeper than he wanted to admit and he didn‟t want to think too closely about that. What did it say about him that he had such strong feelings for a person who existed in his own head? Had this place broken him so soon? He sat up on the cot, grimacing at the mess in his shorts. He took the few paces to the bathroom area and stripped them off, using them to clean himself up before throwing them into the metal sink. He relieved himself, uncaring of his nudity, of the camera that watched his every move. It was nothing they hadn‟t seen before. Nick didn‟t know exactly how long he had been here now. Weeks, months. He had tried to keep track but there were sometimes long periods after his sessions with the professor that were lost to him through beatings, drugs or, on one occasion, electricity. Nick had been so glad to find his brains hadn‟t been scrambled after that one. He thought they might be lacing his food with some kind of aphrodisiac now, the sick fucks. He found he was almost constantly hard and the dreams were coming more frequently. Nick didn‟t mind those. It would be no hardship to slip into those dreams forever. He had even tried it but she didn‟t always come to him. Even his own mind wanted to deny him peace. He rinsed out the soiled underwear and left it to hang on the sink before pulling on the sky-blue cotton pants. His skin prickled and he shivered but not with cold. It felt almost like static electricity. He rubbed his arms and frowned. Keys rattled in the door, distracting him, as they opened the slot. Nick turned towards the sound without much interest.
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And there she was. Quite literally the woman of his dreams. She was short, almost a foot shorter than him. Under the boxy white lab coat he knew her body was curvy in a way that drove him crazy. Light-brown hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves and her eyes were a rich, dark brown. Her scent carried through the opening as she slid the tray into place and his cock, already semi-hard, surged to full painful erection. He felt the curious prickle of energy again and this time he knew what it meant. This woman was his mate. No, not just his mate, his fior cèile. True mate. It was the term his kind used for their perfect match. Most of the feline shapeshifters were content just to find a mate who carried the birthmark that showed they could complete the Ceangal ritual. Finding one who matched you heart, mind and soul? One with whom you could have a Dearbh Ceangal, a Proven Bond? That was almost impossible. It explained the dreams that tortured him and the intense feeling of loss when he woke alone. This woman was destined to be his. It was both a relief and terrifying. He wasn‟t losing his sanity just yet but she changed everything. She started to close the hatch and he found he was desperate to keep her in his presence for as long as he could, even if it was only a few seconds. “Wait!” He stretched a hand out to her, surprised when she hesitated. Her eyes came up to meet his and even from here he could see the sadness in them. She watched him warily as he approached the door. He breathed her scent in, savoring the light, feminine aroma that was uniquely hers. He was only a step away when she glanced at the camera, closed the hatch and walked quickly away. I’m sorry. Astonished, Nick watched her go, her apology echoing in his mind. Was she a psychic of some kind, able to speak to him telepathically? That shouldn‟t happen without initiating the Ceangal. What the hell is she doing here? He bit back a curse of frustration. Nick now knew that Robert Westford had in his possession the one thing that could destroy him. The man‟s main focus was finding out everything Nick knew about the mating process. Not that the professor wasn‟t interested in other things. Things that Nick knew would be worth a fortune if the man could duplicate them. Finding out other ways he could trigger Nick‟s change, how much his body could tolerate, testing out his senses and the limits to his increased healing abilities. But Westford‟s obsession was the Ceangal, bonding between shifters and their mates. So far Nick had told him nothing that Westford hadn‟t already known. The last few times Nick had been brought to the lab, he had found himself faced each time with a different woman with the mating birthmark. So far he had resisted the pull of the Ceangal, but he hadn‟t yet entered his mating cycle, so it shouldn‟t have been so difficult. It left Nick confused and afraid of the reactions of his own body but he refused to give the professor what it seemed he wanted—a bond between Nick and one of the marked.
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As far as Nick could tell, the man had no knowledge of the existence of the Dearbh Ceangal and yet here she was. The one woman Nick would never be able to resist, mating cycle or not. And, thanks to his own impulsive action, he had finally shown the cameras something of interest. There was no way they could have missed his reaction to her. He wouldn‟t give up the secret of the Ceangal but if this woman was waiting for him in the professor‟s lab he would have no choice but to eventually give up his humanity. When he denied his mate, the animal inside him would take over, pushing Nick aside, trapping him deep inside his own mind and taking over his body until there was nothing left but a beast. He thought of his family and his friends. Were they even still looking for him? He had to believe they were. He would get out of this. But for the first time since his kidnapping, insidious fingers of doubt were beginning to creep in. Abby wasn‟t sure why she had been the one sent to deliver the prisoner‟s meal today but she was sure her uncle had a reason. He never did anything without a reason and it made her nervous. The way that Nick had reacted to her presence added to that fear. When she had gotten to her desk after delivering the tray, she had fully expected to see a note from her uncle requesting her presence but there was nothing. It left her on edge the whole morning. Abby kept her head down and her mind busy, not even risking checking the monitors. At lunchtime she had again been told to take the meal tray into Nick. Abby forced herself to walk calmly down the corridor and towards the observation glass. Behind her the bustle of the central lab and office space continued unabated. No one paid her any attention but they rarely did. As far as they were concerned, she was the professor‟s timid little niece who was here doing busywork because she was family. She might as well have been invisible and that‟s just the way she liked it. The white walls closed in on her, heavy and oppressive with the weight of her own guilt. Her heart was tripping in her chest and her eyes stinging. Even now, she could feel the prisoner‟s anxiety and the first stirrings of defeat. The prisoner. Nick. Nick Douglass—she would give him his name in her own head, at least. Her uncle had informed all of his staff not to speak to Nick unless necessary and no one was allowed to call him by name. She hurt for him, for the horrible things Uncle Robert was doing to him in the name of science. He was beautiful still, even though his body was now marked by scars. His thick black hair had been shaved off so that electrodes could be placed more easily. He was treated as no more than a lab animal that they could do as they pleased with and she hated her uncle for it. Hated him for making her a part of it. Her heart broke with the knowledge that she couldn‟t help Nick. She didn‟t know why the professor had decided she needed to be involved in his work. She thought the suspicions she already held against him were the worst evil a person could be capable of. How wrong she had been. Abby had been horrified to find out what he did in his laboratory but he had laughed at her when she had protested. He 16
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her guardian and he clearly believed she was too afraid of him to do anything. He was partly right. Her uncle was a powerful, dangerous man. He had money to burn and the public and private support of many other powerful men. People who wanted the results he promised without getting their own hands dirty. They were people who could make her life impossible if he asked them to. He wasn‟t a man who let go of his possessions and that‟s exactly how he treated Abby—as a possession. Now that he had brought her into his project, her chances of getting away from him were even slimmer. Not that she was trying, not yet, anyway. There was one other reason she hadn‟t tried to leave the mausoleum her uncle called home. Her parents‟ deaths. As a trusting twelve-year-old, she had accepted what he had told her about the accident that had killed them. Time had changed that. Things she had overheard roused her suspicions enough for her to start investigating the circumstances of their deaths. Robert Westford had been involved…but she had no way to prove it. And now Abby had other problems, because she couldn‟t let the professor‟s experiment continue either. Putting an end to his project might well mean giving up her chance to make him pay for her parents‟ deaths. She kept her gaze steadfastly on the floor as she passed the control room. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the black-clad form of one of the armed guards. Abby felt his presence like prickly heat on her back. Accomplishing anything under their watchful eye wasn‟t easy. So she waited, working in the labs while gathering as much information as she could without drawing notice. She watched the monitors when she could and at night she burned. She didn‟t know whether she was walking in Nick‟s dreams or he was in hers but in the end it didn‟t really matter. In them they had done things together that made her blush to think about. In the last few days she had found it happening more often, slipping into daydreams that left her aching as she sat at her desk. At first it had just been sex. An attraction so strong that neither of them had been able to resist it. As time had passed, the dreams had evolved and Abby and Nick began prolonging the release that inevitably ended with awakening, delaying the time when they would be separated again. Her feelings were deepening with each encounter, becoming more than desire, and filled her with the need to just be near him. It was confusing, thrilling and heartbreaking all at the same time and she knew he felt the same way. In her dreams, at least. It was an impossible situation. This time as she approached Nick‟s cell, she could see him lying on the cot with his arm over his eyes. He didn‟t move, even when she opened the hatch, but she could feel his attention on her. He knew she was there. Can you hear me? She jumped, almost spilling the plastic cup of water on the tray as Nick‟s deep voice filled her mind. She righted it quickly and looked at him but he hadn‟t moved. When she had picked up on his emotions and shared his dreams, she had begun to wonder if it were possible that he might be able to speak to her telepathically. But she was still 17
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startled by it, startled by its strength. It was further proof of his nature, because up ‟til now, her abilities had only worked with animals. The difference was obvious, though. Animals tended to communicate in emotions, images, though some, pets usually, would use occasional words. She focused her mind, picturing his face. Yes. Abby saw his fist clench and relax and knew he had heard her. His emotions were confusing, a mixture of excitement, sadness, fear and arousal. Excitement sparked in her veins. If they could talk in this way then perhaps they could communicate outside the dream world. She hesitated a moment to see if he would speak again, feeling her body heat with desire. She pushed it to the back of her mind and waited but he said nothing else. Wary of the watching camera, she slid the tray through and closed the hatch. With one last glance at the man in the cell, she made her way back to her desk. When dinnertime finally arrived she once again collected the meal tray and headed for the cell. She had watched her uncle leave for a meeting an hour ago and knew his routine would take him to his club for dinner after it. Most of the lab techs had gone home, leaving the building quiet and many of the rooms dark. She glanced into the control room on the way past and confirmed that the guards were changing over, no one paying much attention to the monitors. At the corner of the corridor before Nick‟s cell came into view, she knew there was a blind spot where the camera couldn‟t see her. This would be her best chance to speak to him unnoticed. She put the tray at her feet and pictured his face in her mind. Mr. Douglass, are you there? Where else would I be? Abby flinched at the anger and sharp sarcasm in his voice. There was a pause and then, reluctantly, Where are you? I’m around the corner, there’s a blind spot in the surveillance. I have your meal. What’s your name? Abigail…Abby… How is it you can speak to me? She hesitated, reluctant to tell him something she had never shared with anyone else. Anyone human, that was. But she had to tell him something since the cat was out of the bag already. Very nearly literally. It’s just something I’ve always been able to do under certain circumstances. She felt his reluctant amusement and curiosity. Very good. A suitably vague answer. Abby, you need to stay away from me. I can’t, my…the professor has left orders. I’ll bet he has. He does like his experiments. His voice was laced with bitterness. What do you mean, experiments? He didn‟t answer.
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Distantly, she heard the voices of the guards as they called out their goodnights and she growled in frustration. She picked up the tray and stepped around the corner. Nick was standing in front of the glass by the door, watching for her. His pale-blue eyes were intense as they raked over her body like a physical touch. Abby shivered. He was aroused. She could see the bulge of his erection clearly through the thin fabric of the scrub pants. Her fingers ached to caress him. Run her fingers over his broad shoulders and down his chest. Play in the sparse hair there, taste the copper discs of his nipples until they drew tight under her tongue. He stood motionless while she delivered his tray but his fists were clenched and a muscle twitched in that strong jaw. With shaking hands, she locked the hatch. Goodnight, Nick. Sweet dreams, Abby. She felt his gaze on her as she walked away and knew she would see him again that night while she slept.
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Chapter Three Weeks passed and Abby found she was more often than not assigned to deliver Nick‟s meals to him. Every day her uncle would greet her for breakfast and, though he studied her in a way that made her skin crawl, he had yet to mention Nick to her. The knowledge was there though. She was living on the edge waiting for him to make his move. Whatever that might be. Though he seemed content, for now, to watch her. Abby tried to console herself with the knowledge that she watched him too. For years she had kept going as he beat her and belittled or ignored her as the mood struck him. The memory of listening outside the door as he casually discussed the serendipity that was her parents‟ accident was a burning fire that warmed her despite his coldness. At fifteen years old, she had vowed to prove that he was to blame for their loss. Now, eleven years later, she was no longer sure that was ever going to happen and she couldn‟t let it cost Nick his life. She lay on her bed, body lit with helpless desire. Her dreams were becoming more explicit and yet remained strangely unfulfilling. She closed her eyes and searched for the familiar bridge in her mind that connected them. Nick? Her feelings for him had become stronger than any she‟d had for anyone else. In the beginning they would exchange a few words telepathically. Eventually he told her how he had come to be there. Talked about his family and how worried they would be for him. How worried he was for them. He begged her to stay safe, stay out of it, but that just wasn‟t possible. Every day she searched for a way out for both of them. She had all but given up on making her uncle Robert pay for his part in her parents‟ deaths. Now it was more important that no one else die at his hands. The thought of going against him made her break out in a cold sweat and she pulled the covers closer around herself. As time passed, Nick had become more and more withdrawn. Her uncle‟s experiments continued and they were taking their toll on Nick both physically and mentally. Every day his personality seemed to slip away a little more until his thoughts were often no more than emotion and a strengthening sense of possession towards her. More and more, the animal side was taking over. Abby. How are you today? The professor was feeding him drugs but Abby knew instinctively that she also had something to do with his condition. A part of her wished he would give in to it and change, it‟s what her uncle wanted. On the other hand, she knew that if he did and her uncle didn‟t find out whatever he needed to then Nick would vanish. Just as surely as the other prisoners whose records she had found had.
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Abby had never felt so helpless and afraid in her life. Something was coming. She felt it in every cell in her body, but didn‟t know how she could prevent it. Fìor cèile. Abby felt his arousal and it heightened her own, driving away the fear so that there was only him. She moved restlessly against the sheets, skin feeling hot and cold at the same time, the soft cotton bedclothes feeling coarse against her body. Her pulse beat strongly in her throat and between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together and the pleasure intensified. Internal muscles clenched and her pussy felt achingly empty. Nick‟s response was immediate. Mine. In her mind‟s eye she saw him stroking his hand down his body to his hard shaft. Rubbing his thumb over the fluid oozing from the slit. Abby moaned, caressing her nipples through her nightgown. They tightened against her palms, crinkling the areolas with sensitive ripples. Her breasts felt heavy as she cupped them, imagining it was Nick‟s hands touching her. His large palms holding her as he pinched her nipples between calloused thumb and forefinger. Rolling them until her pulse throbbed there, as well. His moist breath against her neck moments before his tongue followed the curve to her collarbone. He nipped at the skin and then pressed his lips to the sting. Tell me what to do, Nick. She imagined running her hands over his body, tasting the pearlescent fluid that trickled from his shaft to run down over his fingers. Imagined that it was her hand becoming slick with it as she stroked the thick erection. Fingers tracing the veins where desire pulsed hot and desperate, drawing a hiss of painful pleasure from him as she skimmed her nail over the slit. In her mind, she ran her fingers over the baby-soft skin of his perineum and held his scrotum in her hand. His testicles were heavy within the soft sac and she massaged them gently. Moisture trickled from her as her arousal built. Nick‟s low moan resonated through her. He ached to touch her. Using the images in his mind for guidance, Abby released him and skimmed her hand down the soft mound of her stomach to dip between her thighs. She slid her fingers into the wet heat, shivering as she caressed the sensitive labia and spread the slick liquid up to her clitoris. It was throbbing for her attention and she gasped as she began to circle it. She drew up her knees and dug her heels into the bed as the world spiraled away. Spreading her legs wide, she could pushed two fingers inside herself. Her back arched off the bed and she bit her lip against the cry that wanted to escape, her whole body straining for the peak. As she added a third finger, it was Nick‟s face she saw above her, the warm, heavy weight of his body pressing her down. The broad head of his cock entering her. It was no longer clear whether the images came from his mind, hers, or both. She could feel the sparse hair on his chest abrading her nipples and the heat of his breath against her neck as if it were real. Pressure built inside her and her breath came in pants. Nick thrust faster and her hips snapped to meet him. The inner walls of her pussy clutched at his cock, trying to draw him deeper.
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Abby‟s fingers pressed harder, moved quicker around her clit. The pleasure was almost painful. Her climax burst over her, drawing all her muscles tight. She gasped and threw her head back as her release spread over her like warm honey. Nick‟s groan of completion followed hers but instead of the weight of his body falling against hers there was only the cool breeze of the air-conditioning against her damp flesh. It drew bitter tears to her eyes as she drew the covers over herself against the chill. Nick? She called out for him again but the connection was lost. She opened her eyes and blinked against the glare of the daylight from the window. Her body was sated, little flutters of pleasure lingering to tingle and pulse between her legs, but without the presence of her lover to share them with. Did Nick mourn her presence as he lay in his cot in the cell? Or was he too far gone to care? Oh god, Nick, we have to get you out of here. Abby paused outside the breakfast room and did her best to rein in her anxiety, making sure her face was composed before opening the door. “Good morning, Uncle Robert,” she murmured. The older man lowered his newspaper and waited for her to sit. He was dressed, as always, in an immaculate suit—navy today—and looked every inch the lord he was. His thinning dark hair was neatly combed and his silver, wire-framed glasses perched on his nose. As ever, the question she longed to ask but was afraid to hovered on the tip of her tongue. Did you kill my parents? He folded his newspaper and laid his glasses on top, his eyes meeting hers. He smiled and she felt her blood freeze, the question dying on her lips once again. “Good morning, Abigail.” Abby resisted the urge to rub her arms and sat opposite him at the table. She reached for the teapot and began to pour herself a cup. “I wonder, Abigail, if you wouldn‟t mind helping me in the lab today.” The spout of the teapot rattled against the edge of her cup and she quickly set it down. “The lab?” “Yes, I have some particular things I believe only you could help me with today. You don‟t mind, do you?” Abby risked glancing up into those cold blue eyes, so knowing, so certain of her response. She really had no way to say no and he knew it. “Certainly,” she replied weakly. “Wonderful.” He rose from the table and patted her arm as he passed. “Eleven thirty sharp, my dear, don‟t be late. You know how I hate that.” The door clicked shut behind him and Abby covered her face with her hands, shivering.
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He woke slowly, already fighting the straps binding him to the chair the professor used for restraining his subjects. It looked like it belonged in an old-fashioned dentist‟s office. From hell. Black leather and chrome with matching chest, hand and foot restraints. It was kept spotlessly clean but to Nick‟s sensitive nose it stank of blood and suffering and death. It was familiar to wake this way but he still fought. He squinted at the face leaning over him and snarled, baring his teeth. “Hello again, Nick.” Nick. He knew that name. He shook his head but it did little to make his thoughts any clearer. The scent of blood and sickness. The bitter smell of chemicals and the familiar scent of this man who would hurt him again. He growled low in his throat. “We are going to try something different today, Nick.” The man shook his head and moved away. Again the name was familiar but he couldn‟t quite make the connection. He saw his reflection in the glass of the cabinet. Instead of the animal he had vaguely expected to see there was a man. A thin face heavy with black stubble, a shaved head and feral blue eyes. There was blood trickling from a needle mark in his arm and his face was sticky with sweat. Nick. He was Nick. He wrapped his mind tightly around the name, repeating it until it matched the ghostly image reflected at him. “So, are you ready to tell me what I need to know today? No more of this talk of magical rubbish,” the professor scoffed. Nick glared at his captor. He no longer had the words to answer him, couldn‟t find the way to get them from his brain to his tongue. On some level he knew this should bother him but it no longer did. What use were words to him? He had spoken all his truths already and words weren‟t important anymore. The man moved closer and he growled again, a warning to stay away. There was a soft knock at the door and the man raised his head with a look of satisfaction. “Just in time. Perhaps my new assistant can persuade you to part with your secrets.” Just before the door opened Nick became aware of the presence of his fìor cèile and he struggled anew against his bonds. He knew he needed to get away even though his instincts screamed at him to stay, take her, protect her. He roared his frustration as the thick leather straps on his wrists and ankles held him tightly in place. She stepped into the room and her scent flooded him with the prickling energy of the Ceangal as it tried to join them. It cleared his mind, forcing back the drugs and allowing his humanity to regain its foothold. Why was this happening? His animal half shouldn‟t emerge until after he had bonded with one of the marked and yet every day he felt it become stronger. It terrified him. He saw the fear in Abby‟s face and his heart broke a little knowing that fear was for him. Every cell of his body wanted to be with her even though to have her meant he would be betraying the secrets of his race. Not that he hadn‟t already. The drugs
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Westford had given him had already made him say too much. The man just didn‟t believe him. She kept a wary distance, her eyes on the professor. Her hair was tied back into a tight ponytail and she was wearing a white lab coat that covered her lush curves. He had explored them in his dreams and he ached to touch them in reality. Take her. The energy them increased and Nick had to grit his teeth against the impulse to join his mind to hers. His fingers itched to touch her and he clenched his hand. Take her…take her. His heart rate increased and he heard the corresponding increase of the tone on the monitor beside him. Take her. This wasn‟t right. It shouldn‟t be so hard for him to resist the mate bond, even with his fìor cèile. It was too soon. He hadn‟t reached his mating cycle…yet. He looked at the empty syringe Westford had left lying in the tray beside him in dawning horror and heard the man chuckle. “An interesting fact I have recently discovered in my studies of your kind is that the change comes sooner when there is a certain balance of hormones and chemicals in the blood. You have the honor of becoming the first subject to try my new cocktail. I‟ve been using it on you for several weeks and it contains something special. I have to say I expected results before now. Especially with the drugs that suppress your will.” He moved to the door, casting a smug look at the girl. “Clean up the blood on his arm please, Abigail. I‟ll be back in a few minutes.” Nick closed his eyes as fragments of memory from the last few weeks began to make up an all-too-familiar picture. Decreased appetite, increased sexual desires, unbearable loneliness, restlessness. The dreams that became more powerful every night. All of them symptoms of the mating cycle. But with every day that passed, every drug the professor was feeding him, his personality was slipping away, allowing his animal instincts to take the fore. Even now he felt that fog creeping at the edges of his mind and that shouldn‟t be. Nick had lived with feline shifters his whole life and he had never seen the transformation start before the mating bond. Perhaps the professor had already won. He heard soft footsteps and his eyes snapped open to find Abby in front of him. She lifted a hand towards him and he shrank back in the chair. She froze, her fingers inches from his bare arm and he felt the energy of the Ceangal dance between them, making all the hair on his body stand on end. Forcing words from him when nothing else had. “N-n-no!” His voice was guttural, caught somewhere between man and animal. If she touched him all was lost. “I‟m sorry. I‟m so sorry but I have to do as he said.” Abby glanced at the corner and he saw the malevolent eye of another surveillance camera. She pulled on a pair of
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gloves and lifted a clean swab from the table and poured alcohol onto it. Avoiding his eyes, she began to clean the blood from his arm with brisk, professional movements. Nick felt every touch as though she were stroking other, more intimate areas. He began to shake with arousal and with the urge to take her…claim her…she’s yours. Nick. Nick, can you hear me? Her voice was soft and familiar in his mind and he shuddered. Abby, god, please leave, please! I can’t, he’ll be back in a minute. You’re shaking, is it the drugs? She slipped off her gloves and touched his fingers gently. No! Her eyes flew to his, startled, and she tried to draw back but it was too late. He gripped her hand, unable to stop himself as instinct and need overran his fear and logic. He felt the Ceangal reach out to her, energy building between them. Linking their minds so that they both felt it explode through their bodies like electricity, tightening the grip of their hands on each other. He sucked in his breath and heard Abby do the same as the colors of the rainbow spilled between them and over them. “Mine!” It felt like hours before his grip loosened but Nick knew it had been only a few seconds. A few seconds that meant his life, his human life, was now over. Abby looked at him with wide eyes and drew her hand against her chest. “What…what was that?” she said, voice shaking. Nick shook his head wearily as the door opened and the old man walked back in, two white-coated guards at his back. “That, my dear, was exactly what I needed you to do. He‟s imprinted on you. Now please go to my office and wait there for me, I have some questions for you.” She glanced at Nick and he was careful to keep his face blank as Westford smirked at him knowingly. I’m sorry, Nick. Please believe that I didn’t know. He didn‟t answer and the door closed softly behind her. The professor busied himself drawing up the short-acting sedative he used to transfer Nick to his cell. For once Nick was relieved to see the familiar vial. It meant that he would be going back to his cell instead of being drugged into docile, stumbling complacency and thrown into the shower cubicles to wash. His mind was racing with the realities of his new situation and his stomach churned with anxiety at the coming change. Mostly he grieved for what he had lost. Every feline shapeshifter went through their first shift at puberty—it was involuntary and during that change, the cat was completely in control. The next time they shifted was when they came into maturity as an adult at around thirty and once again it was initiated by hormonal changes that signified the arrival of the mating cycle. This time they had the maturity to regain some control. At first, anyway. For most of his life, Nick had anticipated his mating cycle and embraced his wild heritage. Looked forward to it. Now
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that was gone, stolen from him by this man. He dreaded the humiliation of having to make his first transformation as an adult on camera, not to mention the inevitable “studies” that would follow. He heard the professor approach and made no effort to resist him as the man administered the drug and stepped back to watch him. “It‟s so satisfying when an experiment bears fruit. I hadn‟t planned to use that particular resource just yet, you know, but then I saw the response when she was added to the mix accidentally and decided to try it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It‟s how many of the best experiments work. I almost feel bad for punishing the lazy fool who passed his duty on to her that first day. When I saw your reaction to her I decided to try something different. I added a little of her blood to my serum. It was almost enough, wasn‟t it? But something is missing.” He tilted his head, the smug smile still on his face. “Now that you‟ve chosen her, perhaps you will tell me what I need to know. You know that it‟s only a matter of time before you won‟t have the choice.” Nick‟s eyes stung as he realized he only had himself to blame for his predicament. If he hadn‟t reacted to his fìor cèile that first time, she would never have been involved. Nick felt dizziness swoop through him as the drug began to take effect. He closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the chair. There was no reason to fight it. Abby paced back and forward across the thick carpet in her uncle‟s office and tried not to worry about what he was doing to Nick. She knew whatever had happened between them had left them more connected than ever. She rubbed her palm where she could still feel the lingering pain from when Nick had grasped her hand. The look in his eyes as he had shrunk away from her touch haunted her. The door opened behind her and her uncle strode to his chair. “Please sit down, Abigail,” he said impatiently and gestured to the seat in front of his desk. She did her best to conceal her fears. He watched her with greedy eyes. Memories of past times when he had looked at her like that flooded her. He hadn‟t hit her since she left her teens but the pain was fresh in her mind. She should have left as soon as she had hit eighteen but that would have made it all the more difficult to gather evidence against him. “Tell me everything that happened when I left the room.” “He…he didn‟t want me to touch him. But you had asked me to, so I carried on. He seemed upset, so when I finished I touched his hand to calm him. He held it for a minute and then he let me go.” “What else happened when you touched him? Don‟t lie to me, you know I was watching.” “I…it was nothing. I got a shock, like static electricity,” she said, denying it. He frowned at her suspiciously. “Nothing else? Did he say anything?”
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Mine. He had growled. It thrilled her somewhere deep inside and in her heart she felt the same. She flushed as she thought of the attraction she felt towards Nick. How her hands wanted to linger on him, explore more of the pale skin. Stray from his arm to his shirtless chest. “No. Nothing.” “Very well, go and feed your charge. He should be waking soon, perhaps you should spend a little time with him. I‟ll see you at breakfast.” Once again he dismissed Nick into the role of an animal. Anger and a growing hatred for Robert filled Abby as she left his office. It disgusted her that she was related to him. It was time to get Nick out of here. The facility was quiet, most of the staff probably at lunch. Abby walked quickly through the office and collected Nick‟s tray from the small kitchen where it had been left, already prepared. She nodded at the guard in the security room as he flicked his gaze up from the monitors to watch her pass. The cell was brightly lit as always. Nick lay on the cot with his back to her. They had removed his blanket from the cell—even that small bit of dignity had been taken from him. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she opened the slot in the door and pushed the tray through. He didn‟t move but she could feel his alertness like a buzz in her head. She sat on the dusty floor and leaned against the thick glass. Nick. Are you okay? He didn‟t answer and she couldn‟t say she was surprised. Nick, what happened when we touched? Still there was no answer. She tried a different tack. It’s almost time for you to change, isn’t it? He turned to face her, his eyes burning through the glass. What do you know about that? She looked away. I knew what you were. I’ve seen it before. It’s how I can speak to you though my abilities only usually work with animals. The transformations have something to do with me, don’t they? There’s no other reason he’d want me involved. There were other women, before. I just don’t understand…why me this time? He sat up in the bed and stared at the floor, scratching absentmindedly at his arm. Because he saw that I was attracted to you. Abby glanced up at the camera, suddenly aware of how long they had sat in silence. “You should eat.” Nick looked up at her, frowning. You should go. She gave her head a tiny shake. “I know you usually wait ‟til I‟m gone but the professor has asked me to stay a while today, so you might as well eat.” He stood and shuffled to the door. Her anger resurfaced when she saw how unsteady he was and how the drawstring trousers hung on his lean frame. We need to get you out of here. Nick took the sandwich from the tray and sat on the other side of the glass. She imagined she could feel the heat of his body through the clear barrier.
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You can’t help me, it’s too dangerous. Besides, it’s already too late for me. Abby sat back from the glass watching as he forced himself to eat. Small tremors shook him, sweat was beading on his forehead and he had red welts on his arms from scratching. He won’t harm me, please believe me. Tell me who to contact. Let me help you. She willed him to accept her words. Eventually he looked at her, the eyes that had held so much fire when he had arrived all those months ago dull with lingering drugs. Cameron Murray. Nick groaned and the sandwich dropped from his hand as he clutched his stomach. He curled into himself and Abby knelt to press her fingers to the glass, wishing she could hold him. His body began to contort, black fur forcing its way out from under his skin as the beast finally found his freedom. In moments it was over. The man she was falling in love with was gone and in his place lay a sleek black panther. Nick, can you hear me? How do I contact him? Abby watched for a moment as he lay still, sides heaving in exhaustion. His thoughts were chaotic, more animalistic than they had been even under the influence of her uncle‟s drugs. The cat was definitely in charge at the moment, she could only hope Nick would fight his way to the surface again. When he didn‟t acknowledge her she rose reluctantly to her feet. Hold on, Nick.
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Chapter Four The cat growled as it staggered to its feet inside the examination cage. It leaned heavily against the bars on one side and snarled at him. Robert watched it dispassionately for a moment. He already had all the samples he needed from the cat form at the moment but he wanted some from the man just after the change. He leaned back in his chair to wait. “Are you with us, Mr. Douglass?” He watched the human intelligence slide beneath the eyes of the cat. Experience had taught him that his subject wouldn‟t always be able to reason much in its animal form. “Yes, I do believe you are. Are you sure you wouldn‟t like to cooperate with me, Mr. Douglass? Tell me how you change another person, that‟s all I need to know. Wouldn‟t you like to help bring into being a new generation of soldiers? Think of it, who would dare to go against an army with your abilities? The UK and, of course, the USA, would be unstoppable.” Robert shook his head and looked at his watch impatiently as the animal growled at him again. He had a meeting in just over an hour. “Really, your kind all seem to have such a lack of vision. Such a shame. You should be more grateful. I gave you what you wanted, although I hadn‟t planned to let my niece sacrifice herself just yet.” Robert glanced up to find the creature watching him with such rage in its eyes that he was glad it was behind bars. “You didn‟t know she was my niece, did you?” He chuckled. “Perhaps she has more sense than I gave her credit for.” This time there was no response to his taunting. The cat lay down, all the fight going out of its eyes. Robert frowned, annoyed that his subject had given in so quickly. With another glance at his watch he turned back to his desk to flick through the test results again while he waited. Nick woke to the familiar fog of the tranquilizers in his system. They made him feel like he had the world‟s worst hangover—drowsy, thickheaded and nauseated. If he ever got out of here… No…let’s not go there. He stretched his limbs cautiously, feeling the soreness of his muscles from the changes and the lingering bruises from needles. He was human again, or still. He had lost track of the number of times he had shifted in the last couple of days. He didn‟t remember if it was normal to shift this often but he
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suspected that Westford‟s experiments with his body chemistry had accelerated everything. He knew he wasn‟t spending as long in his human form anymore, which terrified him. With each shift into his feline shape, the cat gained strength, its instincts overruling his own. His only lingering hope had been Abby but the professor had all but killed it when he revealed her relationship to him. Had she been playing with him all this time? Was she even now helping Westford to find Cameron? He was an idiot to have trusted her and his friend might be paying for it. As if his fears had conjured her up, he felt her approach, excitement coloring her thoughts. Nick clamped a lid tightly on his own mind and lay still on the cot, staring resolutely at the ceiling. I think I found him, Nick. At least, I found his company email address. He’s a computer guy, right? She barreled on without waiting for him to answer. It has to be him. I sent him a message. I had to word it carefully just in case but if it’s him he should know what it means. He heard her slide the food tray into the door and squelched the little bit of him that said, “What if it‟s true?” He couldn‟t afford to believe her. Do you know how often he checks his email? She paused, waiting for him to reply and he felt her growing confusion when he didn‟t. Nick? He turned to look at her. The long lab coat was open to reveal another of the business suits that she hated. Her long brown hair was tied back in its usual ponytail, little wisps escaping to curl around her face. She wore no makeup and her dark eyes held worry now instead of excitement. Nick was sorry he had missed the glow of happiness there. I spent some time with your uncle again today. He watched the color fade from her cheeks. He seems happy with your sacrifice. She pressed her hand to the glass of the cell. He is my uncle. Her eyes pleaded with him. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Nick. At first, I thought you knew and then I didn’t want you to associate me with him. He’s an evil man. But I don’t understand what that means—what sacrifice? Was it the truth? Did she not know about the mate bond? Her uncle had implied otherwise and Nick certainly wasn‟t going to elaborate now. She was safer out of it. Leave it alone, Abby. Leave me alone, I don’t want your help. All you’ve done is make it worse. Just go! Nick turned away from her. It was harder than he wanted to admit to keep himself from going to her. Whether she had betrayed him or not, she was his mate and he still wanted her with every cell of his body. He had wanted to hurt her with his harsh words and Nick knew he‟d been successful. When she left he wanted to call her back and beg her to stay with him. But he stopped himself, because if she really was trying to help him then she was in even more danger than he thought. And if not, if she had been working with the professor all this time, then there was nothing more he could do
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about it. His skin began itching and his stomach cramped, heralding the start of another transformation. He wondered if this time would be the last. The library had that busy hush that most libraries had. Whispering voices and turning pages interspersed with the quiet electronic beep as the librarian checked books out. The air was scented with books and coffee from the little coffee shop at the back. Abby longed to take a book and sit there, forget all her worries, but she only had to think of the defeat in Nick‟s face and knew she couldn‟t let him down. Even if he thought she was his enemy. She sat at one of the empty computers along the wall and quickly signed in to her anonymous email account. Excitement surged through Abby as she opened the reply that waited for her. From: Murray, Cameron To: johndough Subject: Re: lost cat? I have lost a cat. His name is Nick. He has black hair and blue eyes and was believed to have been killed. If you have information otherwise I would be grateful for his safe return. C With shaking hands she typed her response, assuring him that Nick was very much alive. Her heart was in her throat as she included the location of her uncle‟s facility and she had to resist the urge to look over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching her. As soon as the confirmation that her email had been sent popped up, she logged out and shut down the browser. She stood, swung her bag back onto her shoulder and strolled out of the building into the early-morning light. Snow had begun to fall as she drove back, a light dusting for now but the sky looked heavy and dark with the promise of more. The facility was a hive of activity when she parked in her usual spot. Several vans stood with their doors open, boxes and equipment visible inside. Abby stood in the office doorway for a few minutes and watched as files were packed into boxes. The lab assistants took no notice of her, busy in their task. A chill crawled over her body, prickling her skin and she was suddenly very aware of the security cameras. Had she given herself away somehow? She didn‟t think she had done anything to raise suspicion. One of the guards moved towards her and she fought the urge to run. There was nowhere she could go anyway. “Miss Westford, your uncle is waiting for you in the labs. Come with me and I‟ll take you to him.” He didn‟t wait for her answer, secure in the knowledge that if her
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uncle commanded, she would obey. Abby just barely smothered a sneer of disgust, swallowed her fear and followed him reluctantly. Her uncle‟s lab was an island of calm in a sea of chaos. Though much of his equipment and research had been packed up, there was still enough equipment for him to work undisturbed. He looked up from the file he was studying as she entered. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Abby wondered if he could scent her fear like a reptile. The light from the window reflected on his glasses making it hard to judge his mood. “Ah, Abigail. Where were you this morning?” he said pleasantly. “I went to the library.” Abby struggled to keep her voice even. “I see. Did you find anything interesting?” “No, not today.” He studied her for a moment in silence and she tried not to fidget. Does he know? Finally he stood and gestured to the open doorway. “Well. As you can no doubt see, things have changed while you were jaunting around the city. Someone has been asking questions about our facility. You are excused from your usual duty. Pack your things instead. We will be moving this evening,” he said in his usual brisk tone. Uncle Robert turned back to his file, dismissing her. He had spoken and she was expected to carry out his orders. She all but ran out of the quiet lab, heart hammering. Who had been asking questions? It had to have been Nick‟s friend who had triggered her uncle‟s alarm bells. She should have warned Mr. Murray to be careful, not to go poking around. Abby was relieved that she herself hadn‟t been discovered. Not yet anyway. However, now that her uncle‟s suspicions had been raised, it would be more difficult than ever to get Nick out. She was afraid that if his friend failed, Nick wouldn‟t be around long enough for Cameron to try again. Given how often Nick was changing now, it wouldn‟t be long until her uncle decided to find a new subject. There was still a slim chance that his friend would manage it but she would make her own plans, just in case. Back in the main office she grabbed a box and headed into one of the labs, there she began gathering supplies of her own. She slipped them into her bag and pockets as she packed the box, careful to conceal her actions from the camera. When the box was full, she took it to the van and started again in another room. It didn‟t take long to gather up everything she thought she needed. The walk through the building to the main house seemed to take an eternity. She longed to go to the cells to Nick but it was too risky—she didn‟t want to draw her uncle‟s attention again. The eye of every camera she passed seemed to burn into her skin. By the time she reached her bedroom, Abby was a wreck. If someone were to speak to her now she might just drop dead from a heart attack and her worries would be over. She changed clothes and then pulled out her suitcases and began throwing
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things into them, packing as many of her belongings as she could. Defiantly, she left the ugly suits hanging in the cupboard. Clambering onto her desk chair, she reached to the top shelf of her closet and pried the back panel loose. She grabbed the shortbread tin hidden there and shoved the panel back into place. The tin held every scrap of information she had gathered over the years about her parents‟ deaths. It wasn‟t much, but perhaps one day she would be able to use it to get justice for them. One last look around confirmed that there was nothing left in the little bedroom that she cared about. In fact, the only thing that would hurt to leave behind in this place was locked up in a cell, undoubtedly believing the worst of her. But not for long. If his friends didn‟t get to him in time then she would. One way or another, Nick Douglass wasn‟t going to be spending another night as a prisoner. Abby shut the door behind her and carried the heavy suitcases quickly out to the car. She felt eyes on her as she climbed into her car and drove away but no one tried to stop her. For the first few miles she checked her rearview mirror frequently but to her surprise, she wasn‟t followed. Eventually she began to relax, her speeding pulse slowing to a more normal rate. It had almost been too easy. Then again, all of her uncle‟s employees believed she was too cowed by the man to defy him. There was no reason they should suspect she was doing anything except packing to move just as they were. Uncle Robert wouldn‟t miss her ‟til dinnertime and by then she would be well on her way. A small part of her still whispered uneasily but all she could do was be vigilant and pray. The facility was isolated, only one way in and out, so it should be easy enough to put her hasty plan into motion. First though, she needed to find the right location.
***** From between the slats of the blinds, Robert watched the girl get into her compact white car. Such a little brown mouse, he sneered as he watched her drive off. He had thought she would have more promise, especially after the loss of her parents had given him control of her. She had been an unexpected addition to the inheritance that gave him control of his family‟s assets but, sadly, she had never lived up to her potential. She had proven useful eventually, though. The man standing behind him shuffled his feet uncomfortably and he turned to face him. “Is everything prepared?” Robert said. He did not like this disruption to his normal routine but it was a necessary evil. He would reap the benefits of it in the end. “They‟re getting him ready now, sir. Should I have security follow her?” “No, let her go. She‟s not going far,” he ordered. Such a shame—she was entirely her father‟s daughter. Things could have been accomplished so much more easily if she had been a little more…flexible. But he had known her morals would prevail. Had, in fact, counted on it. He still had plans for his niece. 33
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***** The cat prowled the cell restlessly. Every now and then people passed in front of the glass and he paused to watch them as they carried boxes and machinery. His tail twitched his annoyance. The air was full of energy and the unaccustomed activity kept him on edge. He was hungry. Where is my fìor cèile? He snarled and fixed malevolent blue eyes on yet another intruder. The man veered away from the glass so fast he almost dropped the box he was carrying. The cat paced back to the door and pressed his nose to the gap at the bottom. The familiar scents of his prison assaulted him—chemicals, food, the faint odor of other shifters and the everpresent scent of the many humans who worked there. Today though, the human scent held more of the acrid tang of fear than usual. What was going on? He began to pace again, triggered into motion by the urgency and fear of the humans. Frustration at the constraints of the cell filled him, he wanted out. He needed to run. He let out the unique coughing roar of a leopard, filling the small space with his anger. Footsteps approached again and he spun around to face them. This man he knew. This was the one who hurt him. The man spoke to him but the words had little meaning and the cat growled, muscles quivering. Wanting nothing more than to attack but he had already learned that the barrier was too strong for him. The man signaled to someone out of sight and gas began to hiss into the cell. He fought it with snarling, impotent fury but it inevitably brought him to a staggering halt and he slumped heavily to the floor. He watched the men bring the cage into the cell before his vision grew dark. When he next opened his eyes everything had changed. It was cold. He was in darkness but his sharp feline eyesight showed him that he was in a small room. There were no doors or windows and except for his cage, it was empty. The chemical smells here were different and from somewhere inside him the words oil and diesel came forward. When he tried to stand the room bounced and swayed with a motion of its own and he abruptly knew he was in a vehicle. A van or small truck. Suddenly he heard the screeching of brakes and the cage shifted violently. For a moment all was chaos as he was thrown against the bars. There was a thud and they rocked to a sudden halt. The vehicle settled and in the silence he heard the ticking noise of the engine beginning to cool. Had they crashed? He scrambled awkwardly to his feet. The cage had landed tilted against one wall and he had to use the bars to stand on. He heard feet on gravel and cocked his head to listen as someone approached the van. He heard a door open and close somewhere behind him before the steps circled around to the front. Who was it? One of the drivers? A good Samaritan? That would be more of a threat. He might find himself in another prison. The door opened and a figure was illuminated by the moon as it reflected off a blanket of white snow. He growled, prepared to defend himself, to escape. A tranquilizer gun pointed at him and he snarled. He wasn‟t going to make it easy for them to drug him again.
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“It‟s all right, it‟s okay,” she murmured. It took a moment for the soft voice to penetrate his anger. “Let‟s get you out of there, Nick.” He knew that voice. Mate. He struggled in vain to understand what she was saying to him. Her emotions were clear though, she was upset and a little afraid and in her fear she might drug him again. He stared at her, willing her to understand him. Mate. He rubbed his face against the bars in a gesture of affection. Mate. Yes! Mate, she replied.
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Chapter Five Abby watched the tension go out of Nick‟s body. She felt his relief at seeing her and watched as he rubbed his face against the cage like an overgrown tabby cat. He didn‟t answer her but he did appear to know her. Was she too late? Sadness filled her as she realized he might be lost. Warily she lowered the gun and climbed into the van, stopping just short of the cage. “Nick?” He looked at her but there was no understanding in his eyes. Nick. There was still no response except relief and affection. Saying a brief prayer for her own safety, she reached out and touched the soft fur of his neck, running her fingers through it in a brief caress as he leaned into her touch. The cold air seeped into the van and she shivered. They needed to get out of here before they were discovered. Taking the risk, she pulled the keys from her pocket and unlocked the cage door. Although she was sure she could trust him it was still an anxious moment as she opened the door and waited for him to leave the cage. Abby backed up towards the van doors. Almost hesitantly he stepped through the open door, his eyes fixed to hers, body hunched to the ground. After a moment he straightened and walked slowly to her, then rubbed his body against her legs. Out of the cage he looked even bigger, his shoulders reaching past her waist, and, although he was thin, the strength was evident in the muscles sliding under his fur. Faint groans drew her attention back to the front of the van and she knew they couldn‟t afford to wait any longer. “Let‟s get out of here.” She jumped down onto the frozen ground and he followed soundlessly behind her, thoughts radiating his joy at being free. Images of him running through the snow flashed into her brain and she almost expected him to take off but he stayed at her side. Running gingerly on the slippery surface, she led him over to her car, giving the white paintwork an affectionate pat. She had been prepared to sacrifice it and walk, if necessary, but was very glad she didn‟t have to. Mother Nature had been on her side tonight. Nick was reluctant to get in the vehicle but he jumped into the backseat when she opened the door and waited while she started the car. She drove away as quickly as possible on the icy road. The journey to the cottage took longer than expected and it was well past the witching hour when she drew the car up the bumpy drive and around behind the building. Nick lay on the backseat, still in feline form. Abby climbed out of the car. Shivering in the cold air, she hauled one of the suitcases out of the boot of the vehicle. The sky was still clear enough that the moon provided enough light to see what she was
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doing. The snow surrounding the cottage was pristine and undisturbed and it was eerily quiet. Nick jumped out, whole body alert to the night around them. “They won‟t find us here. No one knows anything about this place.” She watched as he lifted his face into the cold wind, as much to enjoy the feeling of the breeze on his face as to scent the air. She opened the door and turned to look at him. “You don‟t have to come inside ‟til you‟re ready. I know it‟s been a long time since you were outside, Nick.” He cocked his head at her and she could almost sense his concentration as she spoke to him. When she went inside and turned on the light he followed her, pushing past her to investigate the cottage. It was only three rooms—a small bedroom and bathroom and a combined kitchen and living area. Abby drew the curtains and lit a fire to warm the place up. The air was cold and damp from disuse. The cottage had belonged to a friend of her parents. She hadn‟t seen him since she was a little girl and had been surprised to receive a letter from his solicitor when he died a few years ago, leaving the cottage and a small sum of money to her. She hadn‟t told her uncle because he hated the man and would have insisted she get rid of the cottage. There was no way he would have allowed her to have the freedom that came with the small inheritance. It was her secret, a place where she had dreamed of escaping to one day. That day had come sooner than she had expected. Exhaustion weighted her limbs and she took the suitcase and headed to the bedroom to put fresh linens on the bed. After a moment‟s indecision, she left a pillow and blanket on the sofa for Nick. Leaving him sitting by the window, she crawled into bed and was asleep in an instant. He came to her in the dark of night, pale skin glowing in the light from the fire. He lay beside her on the bed and stroked his fingers down her cheek. “I‟m sorry I doubted you,” he said softly. Nick leaned forward, touching his lips to hers, and Abby surrendered to him. Their kiss was unhurried and filled with the need each felt for the other. It seemed like years since they last touched. Abby tried not to wonder if it would be the last time. She knew she was dreaming as she smoothed her hands over the strength of his shoulders. Was reminded of his fragility by the soft new growth of his hair and the feel of his ribs under her fingers. Would she ever feel this in reality? “Nick, please come back to me.” He lifted his eyes to her face and for a moment she saw confusion there. She dug her fingers into his tight buttocks and kissed him again, willing him to stay in the moment with her. Reaching between them, she took hold of his cock and shimmied down his body. She mouthed the skin of his abdomen, turning away from the jut of his hipbones to nuzzle the base of his shaft. Breathing in his masculine scent, the sharp tang of pre-cum and the musky undertone of clean sweat. Abby let her cheek caress his length until the crown nudged her chin, then turned to blow the damp flesh gently. She 37
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thrilled when the caress of her breath made him gasp. The hard flesh turned a darker red and she lifted her head to engulf his cock in her mouth. For a moment, she held him there, reveling in the hard beat of his pulse against her tongue. Then lowering her head until he nudged the back of her throat and swallowing. Nick groaned, his body trembling as she drew back, sucking steadily, careful not to graze him with her teeth. Repeating the motion until he panted beneath her and she felt his control weaken. Abby released him and licked her lips then crawled back up to kiss him, letting Nick taste his own essence on her tongue. His erection nudged at her belly and she shivered. Her body wept for him. He kissed his way down her neck and she tilted her head back to give him access. Moaning as he teased her nipples with his hands and then the wet heat of his mouth. The stubble of his chin was rough against her abdomen but he soothed it with his lips and tongue. The sensation raised a shiver of goose bumps on her skin. He slid one finger into her to test her readiness and she yielded to the pressure of his big body as he eased her onto her back. He encouraged her to wrap her legs around his hips. Abby whimpered as the rounded head of his shaft slid through her folds, gasping as it pressed against her clit. Her pussy clenched and she ached to be filled. “Oh god. Now. Come inside me now, Nick.” He slid inside her one slow inch at a time, eyes fierce with concentration. She clutched at him, drawing him down to her. Desperate to feel the weight of his body against hers. Arching her hips up to meet his until she was full. His cock bumped against her cervix, drawing a cry of painful pleasure. He held himself still, body shaking as he waited for her to adjust. She pulled his lips to hers. Taking his mouth with the same hunger that he was taking her body. Their tongues dueled as they began to move together, chasing their climax. Both aware that the dream could desert them and leave them unfulfilled. Pleasure built and she dug her nails into Nick‟s shoulders as his hips began to move faster. Abby‟s breath quickened and her muscles began to tighten as her body reached for orgasm. He rubbed her clit with fingers slick with her juices. Pleasure burst over her, her clenching pussy tight around his shaft and pulling him over the edge with her. Shattering the quiet of the night with their cries. Nick collapsed heavily against her and slid to her side, taking most of his weight off her. Abby nuzzled his shoulder and caressed his back, enjoying the feeling of him against her and wished the moment never had to end. She sighed and Nick shifted to look at her, propping himself up on his elbow. He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Where are we?” “A cottage, it was left to me by a friend of my family. No one knows about it, we should be safe here.” Nick shook his head. “The professor is a clever man with very rich friends, he‟ll find us eventually.” He was quiet a moment. “I‟m sorry I couldn‟t wait for you, Abby. I just…couldn‟t fight anymore.”
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There was defeat in his face and she couldn‟t bear to see it there anymore. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Nick. None of this is your fault. Just please, tell me how to help you.” “Trying to reverse this now would be dangerous. Contact Cameron Murray. He can help you. Tell him you‟re my fìor cèile, Cameron will know what that means. He‟ll know what to do. It‟s too late,” he said, voice filled with sorrow. “No!” Abby woke with a start, her protest ringing in her ears. Watery sunlight seeped around the edges of the curtains, shading the room in blues. Nick lay beside her in the bed, his dark fur absorbing the light like a dark star. He lifted his head to look at her and she fought back tears. “It is not too late!” she exclaimed as she jumped out of bed and flipped open the suitcase, pulling out her laptop. It was a welcome relief to use her own computer instead of looking for libraries. It wouldn‟t matter now if Cameron could trace her, since she was going to lay all her cards on the table anyway. Abby waited impatiently for the machine to start up and quickly connected to her mobile internet. She sent an email off to Cameron and included her cell phone number. The moment she had clicked send, butterflies began swooping around in her tummy. What if he blames me? Nick nuzzled her arm, feeling her anxiety. Too late now, Abby. It was hours later when her phone finally rang. Abby was standing in the door of the cottage, watching Nick as he explored the surrounding fields. He hadn‟t gone far, always keeping her in sight. The house was isolated, not a soul around for miles and the world was silent as though even the wildlife had been smothered under the blanket of white snow. When the phone rang Abby almost jumped out of her skin. She retrieved it from her jeans pocket and answered it with shaking hands. “Hello.” “This is Cameron Murray. I believe you have something that belongs to me.” The voice on the other end of the phone was deep and authoritative and, surprisingly, Scottish. Abby had expected Nick‟s friend to be as American as he was. The command evident in his tone said he wasn‟t a man to be messed with. She hesitated a moment before answering. Did she really need another domineering man in her life? But if this was the man Nick trusted to help him, then she had no other choice. “Mr. Murray, I have your friend with me. Nick asked me to contact you.” There was a long pause but when he spoke again his tone was unchanged. “Why should I trust you? He wasn‟t at the last location you sent me to.” “I know, I‟m sorry. They moved him quickly, there wasn‟t time for me to contact you again.” “Why isn‟t he telling me this himself, Ms…?” “Abby. Nick can‟t speak right now.” Abby rolled her eyes. Why were they both still tiptoeing around this? “Look, Mr. Murray, I know what he is, I worked at the facility. Nick changed yesterday and he hasn‟t changed back. I need you to help him. He said it
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was dangerous but I‟m willing to take that risk.” It was partly her fault, after all, she should have got him out sooner. She remembered the Gaelic-sounding words Nick had said and repeated them to the other man, hoping Nick was right and that they would allay Cameron‟s suspicions. “He said to tell you I‟m fìor cèile.” Nick ran towards her, as if he sensed her agitation. This time there was a thread of grief and anger in the other man‟s voice. “He‟s right, it is too dangerous.” “Please. I need to do this. I should have helped him sooner. I don‟t know how but I know I‟m the reason he changed. It has something to do with his attraction to me…” As she spoke, she suddenly put the pieces together. The picture they made showed her uncle in an even more horrific light. “It‟s some kind of mating thing, isn‟t it?” Her uncle had planned to whore her out. That bastard! Nick butted his head against her leg and she stroked him, fingers sinking into his soft coat. She heard Cameron sigh. “Yes. It‟s called the Dearbh Ceangal. It means Proven Bond. When we reach our maturity, we enter a mating cycle and must find a partner, a woman we will be bound to by magic. She must bear the birthmark—a small mark in the shape of a cat‟s paw—which declares her to be genetically compatible with our species. When we find that person we start the mating bond by physical and mental contact. This in turn begins the transformation. Some of us are lucky enough find the one woman who is our soul mate. You are evidently Nick‟s true mate—his fìor cèile.” Abby‟s whole body went hot then cold as she digested this. Her mind immediately went to the small scar on her thigh. Her parents had paid to have a birthmark there removed…at the advice of her uncle. “I‟m sorry I‟m the one having to explain this to you, Abby. It should be Nick.” His sadness was obvious. “How did this happen? He shouldn‟t even be in his mating cycle yet, he‟s too young.” She was Nick‟s mate? Skepticism wasn‟t really part of Abby‟s nature. How could you be skeptical when you were an animal psychic and had seen men turn into big cats more than once? It went a long way towards explaining her instant attraction to him. Oh, Nick. Then the rest of Cameron‟s words sank in. “Wait. Did you say the change comes after the bond? Because Nick started to change long before he touched me.” “That‟s impossible.” Abby scowled at the phone. “Impossible or not, it happened. Nick‟s animal side was gaining strength every day but he only changed once we touched.” “How?” Cam‟s voice was horrified. “I don‟t know. It must have something to do with the experiments, I know my—the professor was trying something new this time. Nick was given a lot of drugs. I‟ve seen shifters before—I know they eventually stay in their animal form—but why don‟t they change back?”
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“If we don‟t complete the Ceangal within a short time then the two parts of us, the human and animal, can‟t merge properly and the more dominant cat takes over. Without a mate, most of the time the cat loses interest in life and eventually dies. Nick hasn‟t completed the process,” he explained. She looked down at Nick as he lay at her feet, gazing intensely at the countryside around them, and thought she couldn‟t possibly hate Robert Westford any more than she did right now. “Then tell me how to complete the Ceangal.” “Abby…” His reluctance was palpable and she interrupted him before he could deny her again. “It‟s my risk to take. If it‟s true that Nick is my soul mate then he is mine to save. Let me do it.” “Then you should know the risks too. Is Nick still aware? If you‟ve started the bond, he should be able to communicate with you. Does he still speak to you telepathically?” he said urgently. She looked back at the cat at her feet keeping vigil on the countryside. “No. I mainly feel emotion from him. I think the cat has taken over completely. He still visits my dreams.” She hesitated. “He blames himself. I think he‟s given up hope.” “Then that makes this even more risky. The cat may be too strong already. Nick may not be able to come back all the way—he might change physically but not mentally. The Ceangal changes you as well. It‟s supposed to make you one of us. If you do this while the feline side of Nick is dominant then the same might happen to you. You could become little more than an animal instead of a shifter. We also don‟t know how the professor‟s research has affected the process. Nothing about this is normal. Please, Abby, wait until we can come and get you. Wait until you‟re both safe. I have a friend who has been through something similar and he might be able to help.” He painted a frightening picture. Did she really want to be a shapeshifter, let alone run the risk of becoming an animal? Yet it all came down to one thing. Saving the man who she already felt more for than she had for anyone else in her life. Abby knew instinctively that the longer Nick stayed locked in this form, the less chance there was that changing him back would be successful. “I can‟t. We both know he hasn‟t got time, now tell me what to do.” He sighed, his attempts to dissuade her defeated in the face of her determination. “You‟ve already done most of it. All that‟s left is the blood exchange.” His words hit her like a punch and she gripped the dark fur under her hand, causing Nick to rumble his displeasure. She loosened her fingers and stroked him in apology. “Blood exchange!?”
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Chapter Six Abby closed the cell phone with Cameron‟s word‟s echoing in her ears. A blood exchange? Her first reaction was no. Not only no, but hell no and yuck! He had told her that only a few drops were necessary and had to be swallowed by both parties. The thought caused a shudder of revulsion to run through her. Perhaps if it were the human version of Nick she might be less grossed out…maybe…well, a tiny bit anyway. It was like one of those horrible TV programs that made you do disgusting tasks to win the prize. Only the prize in this case would be Nick‟s life. “Come on, Abby. Life and death, remember? Get a grip,” she muttered. Abby shook her head and paced in front of the fireplace while Nick watched her warily. Could she really go through with this? She looked at her companion and, if she was to really believe in magic, her soul mate. She couldn‟t condemn him to his fate if there were even the slightest chance she could save him. And if it all went terribly wrong then what had she actually lost? If she was trapped with Nick in animal form then they could at least be together. His friends would be here soon and would see to their safety. Abby had seen evidence with her own eyes that magic existed, now she would have to put her trust in that. She had abilities of her own. Through her whole life it had been something she equally thrilled in and hid like some shameful disease. If she could contact Nick telepathically, talk to him, bring his personality back to the fore. Then surely that would be half the battle? Maybe this was why she had been given this gift? Perhaps now was the time to put it to use as something more than a novelty. Nick watched Abby with curiosity as she spread a blanket on the floor in front of the fire. She gathered a disposable razor from the bathroom, as well as a sharp knife and one of the syringes from the supplies she had taken from the lab in case she had needed to give an antidote to the tranquilizer. Snow had begun to fall again, darkening the sky and deepening the shadows in the corners of the room. Leaving the lights off, she sat cross-legged on the blanket. Within a few moments Nick joined her, settling beside her with silent feline grace. She took one of his big paws in her hand, marveling for a moment at its size and vividly aware of the sheathed power of his claws. Quickly she shaved a small square of fur, baring the pale skin underneath. Nick allowed it but watched her warily until she released him. The ends of his dark fur caught the light and glowed liked banked embers. Those unearthly blue eyes glowed from his dark face almost as if he were looking into her heart. She hoped he could see what was there and understand if this went wrong. She closed her eyes, shutting out the distractions. Nick. Nick, can you hear me?
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The cat butted his head against her hand as it rested on her knee and she felt his affection. Here. Yes. She ignored the cat‟s response and tried to focus on the man. She brought a picture of him to mind as he was when she first saw him. Body strong, if a little thin, dressed only in the light-blue scrub trousers. Face solemn and light eyes full of heat and desire for her. Nick. Please come back to me. Mate. Here. Mine. Abby growled in frustration as the cat‟s confused reply washed through her. “Dammit!” she exclaimed. She scrubbed her hands over her face and raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Why can‟t I do at least one thing right?” Nick rested his chin on her knee and she stroked his head. Meeting his gaze, she felt the hurt of her apparent rejection. Why couldn‟t it be as easy to communicate with the human version of Nick as it was becoming to connect with the animal? “Oh my god, Abby!” If she could have reached her own backside she‟d have kicked it. Talk about missing the obvious. Her abilities had always been directed towards animals. Why the hell would that change now? The only reason she could communicate with Nick was due to his animal side and his own telepathic abilities. She was coming at this from the wrong angle. She shouldn‟t be trying to reach the man and bring him forward. She should be asking the cat to step back. Abby sent the big cat a silent apology and raised his chin in her hand so that she could look into his blue eyes. Help me, please. Help, mate? Yes. Help mate. I need to speak to the man. She once again pictured Nick in her mind and did her best to project it to the cat. Can you help him speak? Abby felt the cat‟s instant rejection of the idea. It had been a hard-won battle for dominance over the human part of him and he didn‟t want to let go. Please. I need him to help me. So that you and I can be together as mates. This time she pictured two cats side by side. There was silence from the big cat for endless moments and she held her breath. She was asking him to go completely against his instincts. The only thing that might influence his decision in her favor was the thing that separated a shapeshifter from an ordinary animal—an almost-human intelligence and ability to reason. Help. There was sadness in his eyes and in his thoughts and Abby knew that he probably understood more of what she asked than she realized. She watched his eyes go blank for an instant before human intelligence poured into them again. “Nick?” 43
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Abby? “Oh thank god!” She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his fur. How…? Abby, how am I here? “I asked.” Abby drew back to look at him and smiled. “Nick, we don‟t have much time. I called Cameron. He told me what I…we…need to do to finish this.” No! She shook her head. “Don‟t even argue with me, we haven‟t got the time. Listen to me. I mean really listen to my heart, to my mind. You know I‟m determined to do this and no argument you make is going to sway me.” He fell quiet as he did as she asked. All right. Abby? Thank you. Just in case, you know? “Stop it. It‟s going to work.” She hoped. Abby unwrapped the syringe and uncapped it. As gently as she could, she located Nick‟s vein and drew a small amount of blood, thankful, for once, for one of the skills she had learned at the lab. “Enough?” She glanced at him for confirmation. Yes, we only need a tiny amount. She put the cap back on and set it to the side, pressing a cotton swab to the puncture mark for a minute. When the bleeding had stopped she ignored the trembling of her hands and picked up the knife. She wished briefly that she had thought to pick up more than one syringe, it would be a little less scary than a knife. Nick watched intently as she touched the sharp point to the tip of her finger. Gritting her teeth, she jabbed herself quickly, hissing at the resulting pain. Blood bloomed scarlet from the small cut. She felt the warm wetness of Nick‟s tongue as he cleaned the blood from her finger. Abby dropped the knife and unscrewed the needle from the top of the plastic syringe. Trying not to think too hard about the contents, she closed her eyes and squirted some of the warm liquid to the back of her tongue and swallowed. For a moment she thought her stomach would rebel as the metallic taste coated her mouth. She gagged and concentrated on taking some slow, deep breaths until she was sure she wouldn‟t be sick. Nick‟s voice in her head was wry. Not exactly how I pictured this moment going. “You‟re way ahead of me, then, because I never pictured me doing this.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. His eyes glinted with humor but she knew he had to be upset and angry. An important moment in his life had been stolen from him forever. “So now what?” Her stomach turned over alarmingly and she felt heat sweep over her. “Ugh. Just so you know, I never want to do that again.” I don’t think you’ll need to. Come here, Abby, lie beside me. She did as he asked. The warmth of his body felt good, even though she was already too hot. Her skin tingled with it. Actually, her whole body was tingling. Alarm 44
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sizzled through her, making her heart pound as she realized something was happening. She started to sit up but Nick put one big paw on her arm and soothed her. Shhh. It’s okay. Just lie still and let it happen. She started to tremble. What if this was it? What if she was about to say goodbye to her humanity forever? “Stay with me, Nick,” she pleaded. I’m here. But she heard the strain in his voice and knew that he was once again fighting an internal battle. Abby turned to face him and their eyes locked. “Stay with me. It won‟t be long now, I feel it.” Yes. The tingling intensified. She gave into the urge and streeeeeeetched and when her muscles relaxed again they fell into new places. Suddenly the world was brighter, louder, filled with scents she had never been aware of. She squirmed out of the tangle of her clothes and stood on four feet, shaking off the odd feeling of different. She looked at her mate and saw the wonder and joy in his eyes. Abby? We did it, Nick! He stood and rubbed his face alongside hers. You’re beautiful. Thank you, Abby, my fìor cèile. His words washed over her, touching something deep inside. Abby took stock of her new body. It was strange. There was no feeling of disconnect as she had half expected. It felt like her, just a different her. She looked down and saw pale furred paws and was startled, having expected to see fur as black as Nick‟s own. Which was silly, really, as her hair was light. In this form, though, it didn‟t look mousey brown, it looked like dark gold. She felt powerful, strong, and in the back of her mind was a watchful presence that she recognized as the feline who now shared her body. Abby knew if she wanted to reach out to her, the cat would respond, but for now she was content to wait, silent and alert. She turned to look around the room, surprised at how sharp and clear her vision was. Cats ordinarily had less color perception and were slightly nearsighted. Apparently shapeshifters were different. What would it be like to see in the dark? She heard a scratching noise and whipped her head towards the corner where some small creature was hidden in the walls of the cottage. She could smell the soap and shampoo wafting from the shower. The kitchen area smelled like food, both stale and fresh. Old cooking oil and the acrid smell of burning. She wrinkled her nose at the faint smell of the drain. Beneath it all was the musty smell of a building long empty. She padded around the room, marveling at the way the thick pads of her feet…paws…cushioned her steps and protected them from the cool floor. Glancing out of the window into the snowy afternoon, Abby suddenly wanted to be out there in the wild open spaces with a longing that surprised her.
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She felt more than heard Nick approach, the heat of his body reaching out to her. He stood at her side and followed her gaze out the window, watching the silent drift of the snowflakes for a few moments. It’s the cat. She turned to look at him but he continued to stare outside. It’s not always clear where you end and it begins. They want to be outside, most of the time. Too long indoors and they get restless. We may be shapeshifters but that half of us is essentially wild and it’s impossible to completely tame a wild creature. Instinct almost always wins in the end. For both man and animal. Abby heard the warning and the pain in his thoughts. She knew he was remembering his recent captivity and fearing he might lose himself again. She nudged him with affection and tried to lighten his mood. Come on, Nick, show me how to shift back. I’m hungry and I can’t use the can opener without hands. I don’t think I’m ready for dining out yet. She felt his reluctant amusement and followed as he moved back to the fire. They sat facing each other. Abby quelled the little flutter of fear that whispered, what if you can’t change back? and looked into his eyes. They flashed silver-blue in the light of the fire and she shivered. There was no fear in him now. Perhaps it had been beaten down by his determination? Close your eyes and just picture yourself, your human self, in your mind’s eye. She did as he asked, feeling the wings of panic beating in her throat when, after a few minutes of concentration, nothing happened. You’re trying too hard. Relax. Nick soothed her. Concentrate on the details of your body, your hands, fingers, feet, toes. Let it come. After a moment, she felt the pins-and-needles sensation of the transformation sweep through her. Hanging her head in relief, Abby curled her fingers into the blanket, relishing the ability to grip the soft fabric. “Abby.” The voice was instantly recognizable. It seemed like weeks since she had heard it, though it had only been days. She blinked her eyes to clear her vision and lifted her head. Nick sat before her. Thin and pale but undeniably human. “Oh thank god!” She threw herself into his arms and clung to him while they both shook. “Thank god,” she cried.
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Chapter Seven Nick held his fìor cèile tight against him and thanked all the gods and goddesses for his second chance. He had been so convinced that it was over for him that he couldn‟t quite believe that he was saved. Weaker, trembling and changed in more ways than one but…himself again. He buried his face in Abby‟s hair and breathed her warm scent deep into his lungs, reassuring himself that it—she—was real. He smoothed his hands down her back, feeling the soft skin under his fingertips and suddenly became aware that they were both naked. His body reacted predictably, his cock hardening against her belly. He felt the slight shift of Abby‟s body against him as she reacted, her breath catching in her throat. He pulled away slightly. “Abby, I‟m so—” She pulled him back against her. “No. There‟s nothing to be sorry about. I want this, I‟ve waited for so long to touch you this way. Please.” The truth of her words washed through him. Nick shuddered, meeting her lips in an almost-desperate kiss. Their first, he realized, where actual physical contact was involved. Both familiar and different. Her lips were soft against his and she tasted of blood and magic. He could feel her presence in his mind, a part of him in a way he had only dreamed of before. The connection between them was intense. Deeper than he had imagined possible, thanks to Abby‟s own psychic gift. It thrilled him, thrilled them both. The bond flooded with excitement and their bodies followed suit, the Dearbh Ceangal drawing tighter around them. Abby. He let his lips drift down her jaw and slender neck to her shoulder, learning her scent fully for the first time. Soap and a unique feminine musk that was all her. Her skin was like silk. English-rose fair but tinted pink with her arousal. He wanted to rub his body against hers until their scents mingled and everyone would know they belonged to each other. He couldn‟t quite believe he was here, touching her like this. For so long they had been separated. The glass wall between them might as well have been an ocean. He nipped at the smooth ridge of her collarbone while his hands moved to cup her small breasts, groaning as her nipples gathered up and pressed against his palms. Abby sighed and arched into his touch. With hands and mouth he explored her body, noticing along the way small flaws, freckles and scars that had been missing in their dream connection. Wiped clean by the power of the mind. Things that made her more real to him and therefore more perfect. A surgical scar on her abdomen made him frown. She heard his question through their bond and her fingers joined his on her abdomen to touch the faded mark.
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“Appendix,” she murmured. He kissed the mark and moved lower, pausing to taste the little brown freckle on the curve of her stomach, nuzzling the neatly trimmed hair of her pussy and grinning when she squirmed and blushed a deeper pink, her embarrassment coming through loud and clear. “Nick!” He grinned at her and traced the tip of his tongue along the join between her thigh and her mound. She raised her knee slightly, opening herself to his touch. To his dismay he saw that her birthmark was missing from her inner thigh, a tiny silvered line marking the place it had been, and he ran his fingers over it, mourning the loss. She was here, though, and the missing mark was nothing compared to that pleasure. My uncle convinced my parents to have it removed. He shared her regret and anger and felt her fear that it would make him want her less. “You are so beautiful.” He kissed the faded scar and opened his mind to her, so that she felt his arousal and joy. She smiled at him but he saw the doubt in her eyes. It caused a shaft of pain to spear straight through his heart. Threatening to burst it open and reveal the deeper feelings hiding there. Feelings that he wasn‟t ready to explore yet. His breath shuddered out. “You are. Beautiful. And mine. Let me show you,” he said softly. Nick nudged her legs open farther and made a place for himself between them. She gasped and squirmed again. “Oh!” Nick! “It‟s okay. Let me, please, Abby. I want to taste all of you.” He caressed her and parted her labia, exposing the little nubbin of her clitoris. It was moist and flushed rose with arousal. My god. Nick ran his thumb over it, spreading her moisture. Her heartbeat fluttered there, quickening with her arousal. Matching the pounding of his heart as he bent to lick and suck the damp flesh. His mate exclaimed, hips jerking involuntarily. More, Nick, please. He gripped her hips and sucked harder, reveling in the musky taste of her cream. Plunging his tongue inside the weeping entrance to her body as the muscles fluttered and clutched at him. She hung on to his head blindly, head tilted back as she lost herself in his touch, her breath coming in fast little mewling pants. The sound went straight to his cock, making it throb hard with the beat of his pulse. Her grip tightened as her cries became more frantic and he slipped two fingers inside her. Hot, wet flesh clutched at him and he shuddered, grasping for control as he threatened to spill at the tight grip around the digits. Go over for me, sweetheart. Let it go. “Nick!” As she called out his name she came, the hot flood of her climax bathing his hand and chin. Frantically, she sat up, pushing him over onto his back and claiming his lips with hers. Her thoughts wide open to him, full of happiness and a depth of affection that warmed him to his core. Home would never mean the same thing to him again. 48
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“My turn,” she said, mischief spilling over their bond. She nipped at his jaw and the lobe of his ear before turning her attention to his nipples. Nick groaned. It was a hot spot he had been unaware of but, in the depth of his dreams, Abby had found it. The heat of her mouth bounced pleasure between his nipples and his cock, keeping him poised on the edge of control. Enough stimulation to make his pulse pound faster but not enough to push him over the edge. She ran her nails lightly down his sides, making him shiver, and followed the trail of hair down his abdomen with her tongue. She lifted her head to look at him. Hair tumbled around her face, eyes slumberous. She was stunning, glorious in her inhibition. Her lips crooked in a small smile and she ran her fingertips lightly along the length of his cock. Nick hissed, the barely there pressure feeling almost painful against his sensitive shaft. The gentle teasing continued, fingers tracing the veins and ridges of his dick, pausing to smear the sticky pre-cum around the crown. When she brought her fingers to her lips to taste, he thought he would lose it. “Mmmm.” The sound was accompanied by a kittenish purr. An answering growl rose up within him. Mine. “Do you like that?” She ran her finger along his length again, this time with a little more pressure. Her eyes met his again. “Do you want more?” “God yes.” “Harder?” This time she circled him with the thumb and forefinger of her other hand and squeezed. His back arched off the floor. “Ab-Abby!” “Abby what?” “Oh god, love, please,” he said urgently. She tightened her hold, eyes wicked. “Please? Please stop?” He felt her grip loosen and his heart beat a panicked tattoo against his ears. “Please. More!” Clasping his erection in one hand, she took the head into her mouth. “Oh fuck!” Nick trembled and fought for control when she licked the sensitive underside. She lowered her head, taking more of his straining flesh into the scalding heat of her mouth. “God, yes. Suck me.” She did as he asked, fist squeezing in rhythm with the motion of her lips and tongue. Winding the pleasure tighter until his hips were jerking against her and his control threatened to snap. “Stop. I‟m going to…not this way.” I need to be inside you, he urged desperately. She released him almost reluctantly and raised her head with an impish smile. His mate. His fìor cèile. The other half of his soul. Who knew he would find her in hell? Looking into her warm brown eyes, he sat up and shifted her so that she straddled his thighs. Her long hair fell around her shoulders, damp strands clinging to her face. She bit her bottom lip, face lit with joyful abandon. 49
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He lifted her to her knees and cupped her breasts, bringing them to his mouth. Licking and sucking her nipples until they ripened like summer raspberries glistening and sweet in the firelight. Abby whimpered and clutched at his hair, fingers sliding through, unable to get a hold of the short strands. Gripping her waist, he let her tilt back and ran his tongue down the center of her body. The fresh scent of her arousal mingled with the sharper odor of his, both of their bodies weeping with the need to couple. His hands roamed over the curve of her backside, dipping into the cleft between her cheeks. He held her closer as anticipation made her tremble. Slipped his finger through the soft curls on her mound and back into the wet, clutching heat of her body. Feels so good, Nick. Her hips thrust towards him, seeking deeper contact. “Shit! Protection. Please tell me you have something?” Endless tests in the lab had ensured he had no diseases but the last thing they needed to bring into this crazy situation was a baby. “I‟m safe,” she gasped. Nick groaned as slick moisture coated his hand, circling her clitoris with firm pressure. His cock pulsed against his belly. “Do it,” she whispered, her breath coming in soft pants. Come into me. He guided her down onto his hard shaft, both of them moaning as he surged into her, unable to hold back. He lifted his hand and painted her lips with her essence before claiming them with his own. The musky taste of her cream flavored their kiss. She began to move, whimpering in frustration as she moved against him. “Help me.” He grasped her hips and guided her into a rhythm. He encouraged her to lean back so that the grip of her body tightened. Nick buried his face in her breasts and fought for control as they climbed together. Her cries became more frantic and he knew she was close. He wished he could be here inside her forever, lost in pleasure. So close that nothing would ever separate them again. “Ohgod! Oh. Oh. Nick!” Abby cried out and her body clenched tight around him, taking him with her over the peak. He thrust helplessly into her, pumping his seed into her welcoming heat. He pulled her against him and fell backwards into the unforgiving embrace of the blanketcovered floor. His dick was still half hard within her and Nick didn‟t know whether to curse the professor and his drugs or weep in thanks as the final flutters of her climax tormented him. Abby shifted against him. He moaned as his shaft slipped out of her body. He stroked his hand through her hair and followed the curve of her back, grinning when he was rewarded by a very feline purr. It stopped abruptly when she lifted her head and slapped a hand over her mouth, staring at him with wide eyes. “Oh my god, did I just…?” “Yes, you did.” She wrinkled her nose. “Big cats don‟t purr.”
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“We‟re not your average big cats, honey,” he said, laughing. “Don‟t laugh at me, Nick Douglass!” She pinned his hands against the floor. Her breasts swayed gently above his chin and Nick felt his attention drawn inevitably towards them, his mouth watering to taste them again. Abby followed his gaze and her smile turned wicked. “Shall we see if you can purr too?” His body responded, dick going from semi-interested to yes so fast he was almost dizzy. She sat back, keeping hold of his hands as the wet heat of her pussy again covered his cock. Trapping the pulsing shaft between his abdomen and her still-swollen folds. His fingers tightened on hers and she brought his hands to cup her breasts. Nick toyed with her nipples, pinching and rolling them as she began to rock against him. Her juices bathed his over-sensitized cock, the movement creating a mind-blowing friction between them. Abby shifted slightly, leaning into his touch. She whimpered, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as the new position made the head of his dick glide against her clit as she rocked. Nick‟s pulse beat a hard rhythm and his cock throbbed in time, balls drawing against his body, the pressure keeping him on the edge of bliss. His mate‟s breath quickened, moisture flooding from her channel, scalding him with a delicious heat. “Harder,” Nick demanded, and again took her hands in his as she ground against him. The increased friction enough to make him groan. Gazes locked and fingers tightened as pleasure rolled through them in a dizzying rush, stealing their breath. He saw her pupils dilate as she came and his seed spilled onto his abdomen to mingle with Abby‟s release. Her eyes fluttered closed and she fell limply into his arms. Nick drew her against his side with shaking hands and used the corner of the blanket to wipe his stomach clean before he let the heavy lethargy pull him under. Nick woke an eternity later to discover Abby still sprawled over him, a warm, sleepy weight on his chest. The sun had set and the cottage was in darkness but for the fire. For a moment he just rejoiced that he had woken clearheaded and free from drugs, his body once again feeling like it belonged to him. Oh sure, his ass was numb from lying on the floor for so long and his left arm had gone to sleep where it was trapped under his mate. But that was nothing. It would be a while before he felt completely healthy again, even with the accelerated healing of his kind, but he felt better than he had in a long time. Over a year, in fact. He moved gingerly, wincing as the return of the blood supply to his hand caused a vicious case of pins and needles. He squinted at the clock and saw that actually only an hour or so had passed. Suddenly he remembered that Abby had called Cameron for help and with thoughts of Cam came thoughts of his family. Had they still been looking for him? Were they all safe? For so long he had put them out of his mind for the sake of his sanity and now he missed them almost more than he could bear.
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He quickly pushed the thoughts away before they overwhelmed him. They needed to get moving. If he knew his friend, it wouldn‟t be long until Cameron and his team arrived. He certainly didn‟t want their reunion to happen while he was buck-ass naked and no way were they being introduced to his fìor cèile that way. His mate. How the hell had that happened? Gently he stroked her back and murmured in her ear. “Wake up, sweetheart.” Abby stretched lazily and her body rubbed against his. He shuddered and tried to ignore the way his cock filled in response. They didn‟t have time. “Mmm, Nick.” Contentment and happiness washed over him through their bond and he wanted to wrap himself in it, in her, and forget…everything. “Come on, it‟s time to get up,” he urged her, still half asleep, into the bathroom to shower while he wrapped a towel around his waist and went in search of food. He was stirring canned soup in a pot on the stove when she came back to the kitchen a short while later. Her wet hair was slicked back into a ponytail and she was dressed in jeans and a bulky sweater. She looked fresh and innocent. Nick watched her eyes slide over his body before color rushed to her cheeks and she looked away, embarrassed. He smiled at her reassuringly. “I left some clothes out on the bed for you. They belonged to the man who owned this cottage. They‟ll probably be too big but—” He interrupted her nervous words with a kiss and she melted against him. “I‟m sure they‟ll be fine.” He let her go reluctantly and gripped the towel around his waist more tightly. “Why don‟t you finish heating the soup and I‟ll get washed up. Cameron should be here anytime and we need to be ready.” “Right. Okay,” she said faintly, making no move to turn away. They stared at each other for several seconds, desire for each other scorching the air before he forced himself to turn away. He heard her take a fortifying breath before muttering, “Soup. Right.” In the bathroom Nick stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Other than the day he had seen his reflection in the cabinet in the lab, it had been a long time since he had seen more than his outline in the glass wall of his cell. It was a still a shock to see himself so different from what he remembered. It had been a while since they had shaved his head, so his thick black hair was growing back though it was still shorter than it had ever been. It emphasized the gauntness of his face and the pallor of his skin. The mirror was less forgiving than the glass door. The lines he could see around his eyes and on his brow weren‟t just from laughing anymore. There were new scars. Some he couldn‟t remember the cause of. A small one on his eyebrow and on his chin from one of the many beatings. He knew his nose had been broken but it seemed he had shifted soon enough after that it had repaired itself. There were scars on his chest and sides and still-visible marks on his arms from needles. So many that they, too, had left a
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permanent impression. He supposed he had his genetics to thank for the fact that he wasn‟t feeling the effects of withdrawal from having been fed drugs for so long. Steam from the shower fogged the mirror and blurred the image and he turned away. Stepping under the hot water, he washed briskly, using the sponge to rub at his skin until it was red and tingling and he felt almost clean again. He wished he could do the same with his memories. He found the jeans and a belt, a t-shirt and a sweater laid out on the bed along with a pair of thick wool socks. There was also a pair of sandals but Nick saw at a glance that they would be about two sizes too small. The man the clothing belonged to was obviously about six inches shorter than Nick and ten inches wider, but beggars couldn‟t be choosers. He quickly dressed in the borrowed clothing and joined Abby in the main room. She stood with her back to him, pouring the soup into bowls. When she finished Nick cleared his throat to alert her. She turned to face him and immediately covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh dear.” Her eyes lit with suppressed humor and Nick grinned back. The jeans flapped around his calves and bunched at the waist where he had belted them. The tshirt and sweater hung around his thin frame in a shapeless mass and didn‟t quite reach the belt. He looked ridiculous. Nick did a slow turn, his arms spread wide so she could take in the baggy ass of the jeans. A few unladylike snorts escaped and the dam broke. Both of them bent double with laughter. It felt good and made looking like an idiot completely worth it. The soup had cooled by the time they ate it but neither of them cared. It was warm and filling and that was all they were looking for. They had just finished washing and drying the dishes when Nick heard the approaching vehicles. He saw Abby still and cock her head and knew she had heard them too. He threw the damp dish towel onto the counter and went to the window, his mate close on his heels. “Turn out the light. This is the only house for miles, so they‟ve already seen them. But at least we won‟t be making targets of ourselves at the window,” he said. It was probably his friends but there was no sense taking chances. The room went dark around him as he peered around the edge of the curtains. Two SUVs were making their way up the snowy drive, their lights bright in the surrounding darkness. They stopped about twenty feet from the cottage, the idling of the engines menacing after the silence of the day. The driver of the first car climbed out and, as he made his way to the front of the vehicle, Nick recognized the tall, familiar figure of his friend beneath the winter coat and woolen ski cap. “Abby! I‟m Cameron Murray!” he called out, his voice echoing slightly off the surrounding hills. Cam stood in the beam of his headlights, hands stuffed casually in his pockets though Nick knew he would have a weapon within easy reach. Forcing himself to walk
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when his heart was sending urgent run signals to his brain, Nick went to the door and opened it. “Good way to make yourself a target, Murray!” “Nick?” Cameron took a step towards him, hesitated and took the rest of the short distance at a run. “Oh shit! Nick! It worked, then? No complications from the Ceangal? Your mate said something the professor gave you made you start to transform before you started the bond.” “I‟m fine. We‟re fine. We‟ll talk about it later,” Nick said. “Thank god.” They embraced tightly for a moment. Cam was broadcasting so strongly that Nick felt his friend‟s relief and joy and guilt. He drew back and looked into his friend‟s lightbrown eyes. “It wasn‟t your fault.” “How can you say that? If I had picked you up from the airport—” “If, if, if,” Nick interrupted and shook his head. “If you‟d picked me up that day it would have been both of us. They were well prepared.” “I thought we‟d lost you, Nick,” Cam whispered softly. “You nearly did.” Nick turned to Abby where she hovered at his back and drew her forward. “This is Abby. My savior, my sanity, my fìor cèile.” Cam extended his hand. “Abby. It‟s a pleasure. Thank you for helping him.” She blushed and shook his hand. “I called Jack. He‟s on his way, should get here early tomorrow.” Nick‟s eyes stung as he thought of his older brother. “He never stopped looking for you, Nick. None of us did.” “I know.” His voice trembled with suppressed emotion and he turned away to regroup. Even though he had doubted their chance of success, he had never thought they would give up. Another man approached from the second SUV. Nick watched him for a moment before recognizing Ciaran McCord. The Irishman jogged towards them, a broad grin splitting his face. He was dressed in a dark winter coat and woolen cap as well. “Well, fuck me if it isn‟t Nick Douglass! He told me you were here but I wasn‟t for believin‟ him ‟til I saw you with my own two eyes.” He slapped Nick on the back almost hard enough to make him stagger forward and looked Nick up and down. He paused to raise his brow at the jeans that stopped halfway up Nick‟s calves like a flag at half mast. “Did your budgie die?”
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Chapter Eight Abby woke with a start as the SUV jolted over what felt like the Grand Canyon and her head thudded off the window. The two men in the front were quiet, Cameron focused on the road ahead. Nick turned to look at her. “Okay?” “Fine, I just hit my head on the window,” Abby reassured him. “Sorry „bout that. Cam likes the craters in the road. Says they keep people from bothering him. He‟s antisocial that way.” He glanced at his friend but the other man didn‟t react to the mild jab. “We‟re almost there.” Abby nodded and he turned away again. The clock on the dashboard glowed orange and she saw that it was past one in the morning. No wonder her head felt like it was filled with cotton wool. The car was warm but outside the snow was falling steadily again, the small flakes of snow and ice hissing against the roof. On either side of the road she could see thick woodland lit eerily by Ciaran‟s car as it bounced along behind them. The headlights ricocheted off the foliage and made the shadows move as though reaching out for them. She shivered and huddled deeper into her coat. When she looked up she caught Cameron‟s eyes on her in the rearview mirror. He looked away without comment, focusing back on the road ahead. She wasn‟t quite sure what to feel about Nick‟s two friends. They were all easy in each other‟s company and Cameron and Ciaran were obviously happy to see Nick. But she wasn‟t sure she would have felt safe going with them had things worked out differently. Cameron was a big man, well over six feet of muscular strength with dark-blond hair slicked back into a ponytail and intense golden eyes that seemed to watch her every move. After his initial jubilance, he said as little as possible. There was a quiet air of danger around him, the same one that had made her cautious on the phone. His cat burned just under the surface of his skin. She felt its presence like fire behind a tightly shut door. Would she be able to hear his thoughts? Abby wasn‟t sure. His energy felt different in some way. Similar to the way Nick‟s had changed when they had completed the bond. Did that mean he, too, had a fìor cèile? It was difficult to imagine such a dangerous man with a wife. She had watched him prowl the cottage while they had gathered their things, seething with the barely contained energy all of the shifters seemed to possess. She wondered if one day she would have that air about her. Something intangible that said “don‟t mess with me”. The thought made her lips quirk in a small smile. Then there was Ciaran. He was a puzzle. He smelled of pine forests and wildness. She could feel his animal nature—it lurked deep inside him and it was different from the others. 55
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More obviously a part of him. It didn‟t feel feline, either. Abby hadn‟t even considered that there might be more than one kind of shapeshifter. His brown eyes and lyrical accent promised wickedness but something told her those eyes could be icy and his Irish voice sharp enough to cut. Abby had a feeling that he could perhaps be more dangerous than Cameron and Nick combined. The SUV rocked to a stop in front of black iron gates set in a tall sandstone wall. A few seconds passed and the gates opened, letting them drive through. The cleared drive swept up to a house, large and indistinct through the curtain of snow, its windows glowing softly. Cameron pulled up to the steps and parked, switching off the engine. He turned and smiled at her briefly. “Welcome to Murray House.” They followed Cam through the heavy front door and into the dark hallway, Ciaran bringing up the rear. She heard voices in low conversation from the back of the house and paused. Nick took her hand and pulled her forward towards the light. At the end of the hallway they arrived at a large, bright kitchen with pine cabinets, stainless steel appliances and a white-tiled floor. At the far end was a large conservatory, the windows dark and forbidding. Two men and two women sat there huddled over steaming cups. Their low conversation trailed off as they stepped into the room. For about three seconds there was silence filled only with the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway before they exploded into noise and motion. Nick was pulled away into one hug after another. First, the young, auburn-haired man who laughed, hazel eyes sparkling, and teased Nick in an upper-class English accent about making an entrance and the clothes he was wearing. Abby found herself smiling with him as he passed Nick on to the two women. Petite and slender with dark hair and gray eyes, they looked enough alike to be mother and daughter and were crying unashamedly as they greeted Nick. They exclaimed over his hair and how thin he was, hardly stopping to listen to his reassurances. The other man held back, slouching against the counter, watching, his face blank. He was slightly shorter than the other men, his build one of wiry strength. His black sleeveless tee showed off the dark lines of tribal tattoos and his short, spikey hair was the white-blond of a fair child after a summer in the sun. There was a tiny silver ring through his left eyebrow, a silver stud in his nose and several piercings in his ears. His whole posture was screaming badass but his pale-blue eyes gave him away—like everyone else, he was happy to see Nick. When Nick freed himself from the joyful clutches of the two women he approached the blond man, hand outstretched, grinning. “Fynn, good to see you, man!” Nick exclaimed. They shook hands briefly and the other man also pulled him into a quick, back-slapping hug before leaning back against the counter without opening his mouth. He caught Abby‟s eye and she shivered. One of the men behind her cleared his throat, making her jump. They had been so still and quiet that she‟d forgotten they were there. Nick turned back to her, smiled and gathered her into his arms. 56
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“Guys, I‟d like you to meet Abby, my fìor cèile. She rescued me.” Abby blushed crimson under the weight of their stares. She wished Nick would stop saying that. She didn‟t feel particularly proud of her involvement in his imprisonment. Everyone smiled at her and started asking questions but Nick held up his hand to dam the flow. “Guys, it‟s been a long, eventful day. In fact it‟s been a long…” He trailed off with a puzzled frown. “Eighteen months,” the tall, auburn-haired man provided. Nick nodded at him. “Thanks, Jon. Eighteen months…god…” He shook his head. “We‟ve got a lot to talk about but I‟d rather only do it once, so why don‟t we wait ‟til tomorrow when everyone is here?” Abby saw their reluctance and Nick must have, too. “Please. I‟m tired. Let it lie tonight.” There were murmurs of agreement and the older woman stepped forward. She felt the same as Ciaran, Abby realized, as did the younger woman with her. They didn‟t have the same aura of carefully hidden teeth but they were obviously the same…species? Animal? The woman‟s warm voice interrupted her musings. “Of course you are. I‟m sorry, Nick, we‟ve just been so worried about you. After we spoke to your young lady yesterday, we were prepared for the worst. I‟m pleased beyond measure that we were wrong.” She turned to Abby. “I‟m Mary, Cameron‟s housekeeper. This is my daughter Rianne, standing next to her is Jonathon and that‟s Fynn. We can all get to know each other properly tomorrow. Come with me, both of you, and I‟ll show you to a room.”
***** The loch was mirror calm, snow framing it in delicate, cold, white crystal. It reflected the surrounding pine forest, the bright blue of the winter sky and Nick himself. The trees were coated with snow in a heavy blanket, branches so thick that the forest floor remained clear, the springy brown layer of pine needles covered only in places where time or weather had felled trees to create a clearing. A small oasis of light in the perpetual shadow. A place where green things would grow in the spring. The silence was broken occasionally by the creaking of branches as snow crashed down through the trees, dislodged by its own weight. In the distance, he could hear the raucous cawing of a crow. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his borrowed coat and just breathed in the clean, fresh air. It felt so good to be outside, to be able to go outside whenever he felt like it. Nick wondered if he would ever take that for granted ever again. It had pained him to leave his mate asleep in the bed this morning but she had looked so peaceful and he had needed to move, to get out. The feeling of claustrophobia had been great enough to pull him from her arms and the warm bed. He was still a little astounded to find himself mated and standing on the shore of his best friend‟s loch. It was a little surreal. He had slipped out of the quiet house by the side entrance, avoiding 57
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the inevitable questions of his friends. He wasn‟t ready to discuss it with them but he knew he had to. Robert Westford had to be stopped. Given Cam‟s security precautions, he knew his departure from the house hadn‟t gone unnoticed. It wouldn‟t be long before one of the guys came looking for him. As though conjured by his thoughts he heard footsteps approaching him through the trees. When he turned to look he was surprised and happy to see his fìor cèile and not one of his friends. She stood at his side and looked out over the water. “It‟s pretty.” Her words formed a misty cloud in the cold air. “Prettier now that you‟re here,” he quipped because he knew it would fluster her. She blushed and rolled her eyes. Her light-brown hair was loose around her shoulders this morning, fair skin clear of makeup. She was dressed in jeans and yet another shapeless sweatshirt under her black jacket. Nick had a sudden flash of her standing in the moonlight pointing a tranquilizer gun at him a look of determination tinged with fear on her pretty face. “Did you really run that van off the road and shoot the guard?” “Not exactly.” She looked away. “He sort of ran himself off the road and was knocked out.” “How did he „sort of‟ run himself off the road?” “It was icy, so I parked my car in the middle of the road to block it. I didn‟t expect him to slide on the ice.” She sounded aggrieved and perhaps a bit guilty, and crossed her arms defensively. “He shouldn‟t have been going so fast in those conditions. He could have killed you!” Nick looked at her in amazement. “That was a hell of a risk you took.” She looked into his eyes. “I had to get you out.” “And now here we are, standing on the edge of Loch Murray.” He must have sounded as bewildered as he felt because she put her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. “Your friends are worried about you.” “I know, but I needed to be outside for a while.” He let the silence of the woods sink into them for a moment and listened to his body. “I want to run.” He turned her into his arms. “Join me?” She worried her lower lip and he waited, letting her make the decision on her own. “Okay.” Now that the urge to transform had come to him he was eager. It would be good to let his body take on its other shape naturally, washing off the taint of the professor‟s interference. He needed to reassure himself that he could take control and regain his enjoyment of his ability. Nick began taking off his clothes, hanging them over the low branch of a nearby tree. Abby gaped at him. “Nick, it‟s freezing!” she exclaimed.
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“It‟ll be warm in a minute. Do you want to come back and put on damp, dirty clothes?” He laughed as she shuddered and followed his lead. “This time you picture the cat. Listen for her in your mind, let her come forward.” She closed her eyes and he waited ‟til she began to shift before calling forth his own change. He shifted quickly, painlessly, and shook himself free of the anxiety, letting pleasure course through him. Are you okay, fìor cèile? He watched Abby‟s head turn this way and that, ears flicking at sounds she hadn‟t been aware of. The quiet life of the forest suddenly opened up the sharp senses of the cat. I’m fine. Nick, this is amazing! He snorted at the childlike glee in her voice and butted her gently with his head. His muscles were quivering with the desire to run. Come on! He sprang forward, his mate at his heels, and gave himself over to the smooth flow of his muscles. Slowly at first, then gaining speed as he raced through the trees, letting the cat take the lead. Moving so fast that the undergrowth that flashed by barely seemed to touch him. A rabbit dashed out of a bush and he chased it down, coming close enough to feel its heat against his snout before changing direction and letting it escape. In his mind he laughed with sheer joy, letting it escape in a yowling roar and heard Abby do the same. He ran until his lungs burned and his body sang out with the freedom of it. They looped back down the hill towards the loch and their clothes, playing through the trees like children. At the loch side they reluctantly shifted back and dressed quickly, hopping from foot to foot in the cold snow. They fell through the conservatory door laughing breathlessly, the heat from the kitchen making their cold cheeks sting. Abruptly, Abby fell silent and Nick turned to follow her gaze over his shoulder…and looked into a pair of silver eyes. “Jack.” He raced forward into his big brother‟s arms, feeling the tremors that rocked the other man‟s frame. “Nicky.” It was a name he hadn‟t heard Jack call him since Nick was sixteen years old and Nick had blackened his eye for it. Hearing his brother say it to him now was enough to set loose all the emotion he had shoved deep inside. Suddenly, he missed his family fiercely. He buried his face, wet with tears, against his brother‟s shoulder. “I missed you, bro. Thought I‟d never get out of that place.” “I‟m sorry, Nick. So sorry I didn‟t get you out sooner.” Jack clutched him tighter and Nick gave a watery laugh. “There‟s a lot of that going around. We should throw a party and then everyone can get rid of all their angst in booze. I warn you, though, I haven‟t had a drink in a while. I‟ll be a lightweight.” “Better invite Mom and Dad then, so they can kick our asses for it,” Jack replied in a voice still thick with tears.
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“Shit! I gotta call them!” Nick drew himself up, wiping his face with his hand while his brother did the same. “Yes, you do. The only reason Mom isn‟t here right now is because I convinced Dad it wasn‟t safe. We have a lot to talk about, Nick.” The light glinted off the wide gold band on Jack‟s left hand. Nick grabbed his hand and held it up. “I‟ll say we do. You‟re married!?” Jack smiled. “Her name is Megan.” “I‟m sorry I missed it.” “Me too, bro. There‟s nothing I wanted more than to have you stand up for me.” He nodded at Abby, who stood quiet and subdued at the doorway. “Perhaps I‟ll be able to do the honors for you?” Nick turned to her and motioned her forward, smiling his reassurance. “This is Abby.” “You already performed the Ceangal. Congratulations, to both of you.” “Oh. Thank you. It‟s nice to meet you, Jack.” Abby smiled. “You as well.” He motioned to the door. “I‟ll give you a minute. Come into the lounge when you‟re ready and we‟ll compare stories.”
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Chapter Nine Abby gathered Nick into her arms and he sighed. She wished she could make this all better for him but only time would do that. Nothing was ever going to make up for all the time he had lost. He squeezed her and they shared a kiss, each sending comfort to the other through their link. He laid his forehead against hers. “Come on, let‟s get this over with,” Nick whispered. She let him take her hand and lead her through the house towards the front. The low murmur of conversation stopped as they entered the large room and she looked around at the occupants. Talk about into the lion‟s den. It was like walking into the big cat house at the zoo. You might not be able to see the animals but you could feel them watching you. Sizing you up to see if you were a challenge…or a meal. Cameron stood by the unlit fireplace opposite Nick‟s brother. Mary and Rianne sat on the couch beside two other women. Ciaran sat with the younger man, Jon, from last night. Fynn sat in an armchair, looking alone even in the crowded room. In the other armchair with his back to the window sat another stranger. The light from outside cast him in shadow and she couldn‟t clearly see his features. He was the largest man in the room and, given the general size of the men in the room, that was saying something. Nick‟s hand was a warm, reassuring pressure as he guided her towards the unoccupied loveseat opposite the window. Nick went immediately to the big man and as he stood they embraced. “Chris! You look great, my friend, it‟s been a long time.” “Too long. I‟m happy to see you, Nick, and even happier that you don‟t need my help.” There was something off about his voice, it was low and gravelly…he turned and the weak sunlight fell on his face. Abby barely restrained her gasp of surprise as it became obvious this was the man Cam had spoken of on the phone. The one who had been in Nick‟s situation. His features had a distinct feline cast. His nose was slightly flattened and when he smiled she glimpsed elongated canines. His hair was auburn shot through with black and gold and white, leaving no doubt as to which breed of cat he shifted to. As she watched, fascinated, he tucked the variegated strands behind an ear that came to a very definite point at the top. Her uncle would be beside himself with glee if he ever laid eyes on this man because here was the blend of man and animal that he craved. Abby looked away, ashamed that she had even had the thought, and met Fynn‟s glacier-blue eyes. He watched her with ill-concealed suspicion. “This is Abby, my fìor cèile. Abby, this is Chris Pembroke, Jon‟s brother.” The big man acknowledged her with a nod. After giving Chris a final slap on the shoulder, Nick rejoined Abby. She felt his curiosity as he looked at the two new women. 61
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Cameron cleared his throat, drawing everyone‟s attention. “I think introductions are in order for those of you who are new to our family.” He smiled at the slim redhead next to Rianne and it transformed the forbidding lines of his face with its tenderness. “This is my fiancée, Jayne.” He nodded to the dark-haired woman on her other side. “Beside her is her friend Megan, Jack‟s wife.” Something in the air changed, came buzzing to life, and Nick gasped softly. “I‟ll be damned. Congratulations, all of you.” The women smiled back. “It‟s a pleasure to meet you finally, Nick,” Jayne said. “Congratulations on your own Dearbh Ceangal.” Megan smiled and added her own congratulations. “Jack has talked about you a lot, I‟m looking forward to getting to know you. You too, Abby.” Abby thanked them both, wondering what she could have in common with any of these women except that they were all Scottish. They were beautiful and confident and everything that she wasn‟t. “So,” Nick said, visibly gathering himself. “I suppose the best way to do this is to start at the beginning.” In emotionless tones he described how he had been captured on his journey from the airport and waking in the cell at the lab. When he began to talk about the beatings and other “experiments” he had endured he faltered and Abby slipped her hand into his. He squeezed her fingers gratefully and continued, glossing over many of the details. “He wanted to know about how we shifted and about the mating bond. He already knew some of it.” Cameron interrupted. “That fits with what we already know.” He gestured to Nick‟s brother. “Jack came here to Scotland to find Megan when he reached his mating cycle and some psychopath tried to kill them. He came to me and we discovered someone had given the man the information he needed to find shapeshifters, several of whom had already been reported missing or dead. Your name was on that list. Then I discovered that some of the marked were beginning to disappear.” “So of course that meant he had to come off of his high horse and protect his mate,” Ciaran interrupted. Cam glared at Ciaran, caught the cushion that Jon threw him and threw it at Ciaran‟s head. Ciaran ducked, laughing, as it flew past him. “They took Jayne and me from right here at the house. They had already failed once using the same scam they caught you with,” Cameron continued. “Well, that makes me feel gullible,” Nick muttered. Cam shook his head. “Don‟t. They would have got us then if Jayne hadn‟t been paying more attention than I was. They are well organized, well funded, professional and ruthless.” He looked at Nick and Abby saw the regret in his face. “I was at the lab. I got a small taste of what you went through and you are a stronger man than me, my friend. I got an anonymous email with the location of the lab.” He glanced at Abby. “It
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was the only reason the guys were able to find us so quickly and get us out. Something must have tipped them off though, because you were already gone. We were so close, Nick. We were there just hours after they moved you. We were afraid we‟d never find you again.” “You may not have. I have no idea where they were taking me and by that point I was beyond reasoning. The last serum the professor gave me was mixed with her blood. It was enough to start my transformation.” “I‟ve never seen the Ceangal started like that. The mental bond needs to be established first to stabilize the connection between you and allow you both to transform safely,” Cameron said. “I know.” Nick looked at Abby, silently asking her permission to tell them about her own talent. She nodded at him—she had a feeling there wouldn‟t be many secrets in this situation. “I think the only thing that saved us was Abby‟s own abilities. She could communicate with me. We already had a telepathic link, the Ceangal just made it stronger. If it hadn‟t been for Abby…she set up an ambush and got me out.” “She‟s also the one who contacted us and told us where to find you,” Jack said. “And for that I‟ll be forever grateful.” Abby blushed and looked at her fingers linked with Nick‟s. She didn‟t deserve their praise. “What I‟d like to know is how long she knew where he was.” The quiet American voice was Fynn‟s. “And why it took her so long to contact us.” There was more than a hint of suspicion in his tone. Nick narrowed his eyes at the other man. “It‟s okay, Nick.” Abby felt the attention of the whole room as she spoke and her heartbeat fluttered. “They need to know.” He opened his mouth to argue but subsided when she shook her head. She took a deep breath. “I did wait too long. Mostly it was because I was scared. My uncle, Robert Westford, is a powerful man. He has a lot of money and a lot of support; friends who hold positions in the government. What could I, one person, do against that? Then who would I contact? When he has such a far reach where could I possibly go for help? “When I was twelve, my parents were killed in a sailing accident. That‟s when Robert Westford became my guardian. Even as naïve as I was back then it didn‟t take long for me to see and hear enough to suspect that their deaths weren‟t an accident at all. Since then I‟ve been trying to find a way to prove his involvement. Everywhere I turn someone has covered up evidence. Missing paperwork, false witness reports. A farce of an inquest…” She looked into Nick‟s eyes briefly and saw sympathy and anger. Clearing her throat and blinking away tears, she continued. “So you see, I know he‟s capable of killing…or at least paying someone to do it for him. He has no conscience and no fear of punishment. I needed more information, more evidence, and the best way to get it was to stay where I was and say nothing. But as Nick‟s condition worsened I realized we were running out of time and I had to take the risk. He told me
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who to contact for help and I took the chance even though it meant I had to walk away from…everything.” The room was silent for a moment. She looked at her feet rather than face their eyes and the suspicion she might find there. The heavy atmosphere was broken by Chris. “Robert Westford. I know that name. He moves in the same circles as my parents, has friends in the House of Lords.” Which meant so did Chris‟ parents. Abby looked at him and he met her eyes. “He is a very powerful man. And very clever. It would be difficult to get much past him, I think. You‟ve had a very lucky escape, indeed,” he said. “Too lucky,” Fynn spat. “She would have acted sooner but I asked—no, begged—her not to. I know what that man is capable of better than any of you and I wanted nothing to put her further into this than she was.” Nick growled at Fynn, muscles tensing. Abby shifted her grip to his shoulder. “No, Nick. He‟s right. It was easy, in the end, and nothing involving my uncle has ever been easy.” Fynn regarded her with undisguised anger. “Perhaps it was easy because he wanted it to be.” He looked around the room. “She‟s going to betray us. I‟ve seen it.” Abby‟s whole body went cold at Fynn‟s words. What did he mean he‟d seen it? Seen what? Nick stood, pulling out of her grasp. He took a step towards Fynn‟s chair and came up hard against Jack as his brother stepped in front of him. “You go too far, Fynn! Abby is my fìor cèile! Don‟t put your psychic bullshit on her.” Fynn shrugged and glared back. “I only say what I see.” “Asshole!” Nick visibly trembled with anger as he looked at his friends. “The rest of you can discuss amongst yourselves whether to trust my fìor cèile. I want no part of it. We‟ll be out of your way by tomorrow.” He turned back to take her hand and led her to the door. There were a chorus of protests against his leaving but Abby heard none for her innocence and she understood. She wasn‟t wanted or trusted here. Abby watched Nick pace their room with short, angry steps for a moment before going to him and taking him in her arms and laying her head against his chest. “It‟s okay, Nick. It‟s only natural that they be worried about you, they are your friends. If I were in their position I‟d be suspicious too.” He held her tighter. “It‟s not okay. You‟re my fìor cèile.” “Does that automatically mean I have to be blameless? I know that we share a mental connection, Nick, but that doesn‟t mean I can‟t lie to you. It just makes it harder,” she reasoned. “You are blameless. I was there. I met your uncle and know what kind of man he is and what kind of hold he has over people. The fact that he‟s your uncle just made it worse for you. Besides, I was the one who asked you not to interfere!” She stroked the tense muscles of his back and he returned the caress. “I know that, but I could have done something sooner. I was so wrapped up in finding the truth 64
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about my parents that I didn‟t look for a way out. It was selfish of me. You‟re asking them to trust a stranger and they need time.” He relaxed slightly and his chest lifted on a sigh. “There was no way for you to get me out of there sooner without my help and I wasn‟t ready to trust you. I‟m sorry about your parents, Abby, and in your position I would probably have done the same. We‟ll make him pay. For all of it.” “I hope so.” She tightened her hold, there was no way to know now whether she could have done anything sooner but in her heart Abby would always doubt. Before her feelings could spill over into their link she changed the subject. “So, your friend Fynn, he‟s really psychic? Or is he just an arsehole?” Laughter rumbled softly under her cheek. “Both. He does have a gift, but he‟d tell you himself that it‟s not always reliable. The…visions…he has are usually hard to interpret. I think he finds being an asshole easier.” He lifted her away from him to look in her eyes. “He‟s got it wrong this time.” Abby gave him her best reassuring smile and lifted her hand to feel the prickle of stubble on his face. “I know.” But what if he hadn‟t? What if her being here was going to put Nick and his friends in more danger? In reality, there was no “what if?” about it. Robert Westford would not stand being beaten by someone he believed was less than him. And he certainly believed his niece to be that. She had to leave before she brought his wrath back down on their doorstep. The thought brought an immediate denial from deep inside her and she ruthlessly pushed it back down before her mate felt her distress. Instead, she focused on the feel of his body against hers. How he made her feel safe, even when there was no reason to be afraid, just by holding her in his arms. She would protect him ‟til her last breath left her body. Standing on her tiptoes, Abby pressed her lips against his, threading her fingers into his hair. His response was immediate and thrilling. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. She felt his passion and the quickening of his arousal through their bond. Deep inside her, the cat responded with a burst of warmth that heightened her excitement. Fumbling as she stripped off his jumper, she ran her hands eagerly over the exposed flesh, smiling when he shivered and his nipples drew up under her fingers. Nick gripped the hem of her top and she lifted her arms to let him pull it off. It tousled her hair so that it fell around her face and he combed it back with gentle hands. She kissed him again and his body responded, cock filling to press against the zipper of his jeans. He groaned, squeezing her buttocks and lifting her closer. Pressing her eager body against his. Abby‟s pulse throbbed between her legs in response. “I need you, Nick.” I love you. The emotion rose in her throat, choking her with tears that she refused to shed. They separated reluctantly, taking off jeans and underwear with a hastiness that made them clumsy. Abby landed hard on her bottom on the thick carpet, the sudden landing jerking a surprised laugh from her. He helped her back to her feet and grinned at her, rubbing the cheeks of her bum. “Are you all right?”
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She rolled her eyes and smiled back. “I‟m fine.” The mood lifted and she was glad. She didn‟t want their final coupling to be weighted by sorrow. He led her to the bed, throwing the quilt to one side, and drew her onto the clean white sheets. The first contact of his hard, hair-roughened body made her gasp. She pushed at his shoulders until he relented and turned so that she lay on top. His erection bobbed against her buttocks and Abby moved so that she faced it with a leg on each side of his chest. Nick gasped and urged her onto her knees, fingers pressing into her hips. “Your ass is like a peach. I just want to bite it.” His moist breath warmed her buttocks just before he bit down on one cheek. He palmed her pussy, letting his fingers glide between her labia. “Look how juicy it is.” Abby moaned, head falling forward. She almost forgot her reason for turning, until she felt the hot, sticky press of the head of his cock against her cheek. She gave in to the urge to rub against it like the cat she now was. She traced the veins and ridges of his shaft with her tongue. Nick moaned and his hands gripped her thighs hard enough to leave bruises. She nuzzled the fuzzy sac where it lay vulnerable against his thighs. His excitement at where she would next touch him resounded through their bond. His cock was flushed a hot, dark red and she felt the frantic beat of his heart in every inch. Opening her mouth wide, she took him inside. “Ah! Fìor cèile!” His hips thrust involuntarily and she let her teeth graze the sensitive flesh in warning. He shuddered and she felt his effort to stay still under the sensual onslaught. Once, twice, three times she let his cock nudge the back of her throat and pulled back until Nick was shaking and moaning beneath her. A steady flow of pre-cum lubricated the way, and she swallowed it down greedily, memorizing the taste of her mate. Once again, sorrow threatened to swamp her, stinging her eyes with salty tears. She blinked them away and gripped the base of his erection in her fist, stroking as she sucked. “God, Abby, stop!” Nick pushed her backwards, forcing her to release him. He reached between his legs to tug at his balls, clearly struggling to regain his frayed control. After a few seconds he flipped over, the heat and weight of his body blanketing her. Eyes hot on her own. His cock nudged at her stomach, wet from her efforts. He claimed her mouth in a scorching kiss. “Little hellcat. You make me lose what little control I have left. My turn.” He explored her every curve with lips and teeth and tongue. Sucked her nipples ‟til they were ripe and aching and her back arched from the mattress. His fingers dipped into her pussy. “Look at you, you‟re beautiful. Feel how much your body wants me,” Nick said softly. He kissed her stomach, dipping his tongue into her bellybutton and down the gentle curve to her pubic bone. Shivers rose at the contrasting sensation of the stubble on his chin gently abrading her thighs. Nick lifted his head to grin wickedly at her and the sight of his happiness made her heart turn over in her chest even as her body
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clenched in anticipation. Through their bond came a bone-deep sense of possession and of belonging that called to the same feelings in her own heart. How was she ever going to let him go? He bent his head to run the tip of his tongue along the seam of her labia and she gasped and squirmed. No one had touched her like this before and Abby clutched the sheets with white-knuckled hands as her body and mind fought. She blushed with embarrassment but her body was screaming “hell yes!” He parted her folds and lapped at the little nubbin, sucking it gently, making her head spin. His head dipped lower, tongue teasing the entrance to her body before plunging inside. It was still the most intimate thing Abby had ever experienced. “Nick!” A hard pulse beat from her center and echoed through her body. She lifted into his touch helplessly as her cream flooded from her body, bathing his lips and chin. “Oh god!” Nick reached to lace their fingers together and she drew him up the length of her body. His lips glistened and Abby pressed them to her own so that she could taste her own musky essence there. He circled her clit with his thumb and pushed two fingers inside her. Abby clutched his shoulders and thrust her hips. “Ah!” “Tell me you need me, love.” He removed his hand and she felt the blunt head of his cock slide against her slick labia. “Do you want this?” “Yes. Please, Nick.” She wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him to come inside her. Their eyes met and in them she saw the words they had yet to utter. Unspoken feelings rich and thick in the air around them. Once again her throat ached with the longing to say it and she swallowed it down ruthlessly. She couldn‟t say it, not now. He would never let her go if she did. She pushed the love deep back inside herself and focused instead on the arousal. “I need you.” Pain and a soul-deep disappointment flitted through his gaze. He took her chin in his hand stared into her eyes as though he could see right through the barriers she had surrounded her heart with. Abby struggled to keep them solid against him. Heart breaking with the knowledge that she was going to hurt him. Badly. But hurt was better than seeing him a prisoner again. Or, worse, knowing he was dead because of her. “Nick, please.” She nipped at his lip. “I need you. Show me I‟m yours.” She pulled him tighter to her, rocking against him and his answering desire chased it away the lingering rejection. Always, he whispered into her mind. He guided his cock inside her, filling her body in slow increments. Abby moaned and bit her lip, gripping him tighter with her legs, pulling him deeper. He was a delicious hard pressure inside her and her inner muscles clutched at him as he withdrew. She met him thrust for thrust, their bodies slick against each other. Nick‟s breath was harsh in her ear, broken whispers prickling goose bumps over her skin. The dark sprinkling of hair on his chest abraded her oversensitive nipples. His hand slid between their bodies to tease and press, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves again. Abby held on to her heart like a
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miser to his purse but held nothing else back. Emotions poured between them, merging together until she didn‟t know where she ended and he began. She came in a rush, body squeezing tight around his cock while her mate gritted his teeth and held still. When she opened her eyes, she saw that his were squeezed shut, hands white knuckled on the sheets at each side of her as he fought for control. A fine tremor shook his body and sweat beaded on the hard planes of his face. Her arousal and his bouncing between them stoked the fire again. An eternity later, he rolled them so that she once again straddled his hips and his blue eyes opened. He sat up, holding her tightly against him. “Straighten your legs,” he gritted out. Abby did as he said, stretching her legs out on either side of his hips. The tiny nudges of his cock inside her as she moved made her shudder. He shifted his grip to her hips. “Now lie back.” Slowly she leaned back onto his legs, weight supported on her elbows. The shift in position made his shaft seem impossibly huge within her. He pulled out a few inches and thrust back, his rigid length hitting a magical spot inside her that made sparks shoot through her body. “Nick!” He growled, teeth clenched tightly, thrusting more urgently into her. Making her breaths come in sobs. Faster, harder. Pushing her onward, building her pleasure back to the peak and plunging her into another orgasm. He roared with his own release, jets of cum pulsing inside her. Abby collapsed against his legs in a boneless, sated heap. She didn‟t protest when he pulled her back into his arms and fell with her onto the bed, holding her as though he would never let her go. His heart beat loud beneath her ear and through their bond she felt the declaration she refused to speak. He loved her. He hadn‟t said it out loud but it couldn‟t be more clear. Tears prickled her eyes and she closed them tight, letting the pull of exhaustion take her under.
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Chapter Ten Dinner that night was a subdued affair. The other women tried to include her in the conversation but Abby mostly concentrated on moving her food around her plate. Ciaran and Jon bantered back and forth halfheartedly but the tension in the air was palpable. It was clear that Fynn‟s words had sown the seeds of doubt. She couldn‟t blame them for their suspicion, given all that they‟d suffered at the hands of her uncle. It made her even more sure that her decision to leave was for the best. She listened as they discussed people she‟d probably never meet. It didn‟t escape her notice that they were careful with the details and she was glad. Because when—if— her uncle got his hands on her again, she knew he would stop at nothing to pick every last bit of information out of her brain. Only Jack managed to cajole Nick out of some of his bad mood by talking about their parents and the family company, drawing him into a conversation about technology that boggled Abby‟s mind. Eventually the meal finished and the two men stood together, caught in their discussion, to go and look at a program Jack had been working on. Nick hesitated at the door as though suddenly remembering her presence but she waved him away. “Go. Spend some time with your brother, I‟ll be fine.” Abby got to her feet and began helping Mary and the other women clear the table. There were offers of help from the other guys but the housekeeper shooed them away to join Nick and Jack. It didn‟t take long to fall into a routine—Mary washed, while Abby and Jayne dried them for Megan to put away. Rianne busied herself making coffee. They fell on the old conversation standby—the weather. They had just about exhausted the topic by the time the dishes were done. She did get one interesting piece of information from the discussion though the nearest village was about two miles away. Still, it might as well be a couple of hundred miles away if she didn‟t figure out how to get there unnoticed. Abby was trying to find a way to excuse herself when Rianne suddenly slammed the biscuit tin onto the table. “Oh for god sakes, no more!” The women all turned to look at her, surprise turning to amusement as she rolled her eyes. “One more person mentions the weather and I won‟t be responsible for my actions!” she exclaimed. “Let me just lay it out before someone gets injured trying not to upset you, Abby. It‟s true that Fynn‟s vision was a shocker. And let‟s not even talk about how the bastard dropped that bombshell. But we talked about it and your reasons for not helping Nick sooner were understandable. It‟s not what I personally would have done—” “Rianne,” Mary cautioned.
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“Well, it‟s not. But it is understandable. The problem is that Fynn is right more than he‟s wrong. So please.” She gestured to the table. “Have a seat and tell us why he‟s wrong.” Abby looked into the expectant faces of the four women and shook her head. “He‟s not.” Four sets of eyebrows raised in surprise. If the situation had been different it might have been funny. “I won‟t betray Nick, or any of you, willingly, but I know my uncle only too well and he doesn‟t accept no for an answer.” Megan spoke softly. “Your uncle won‟t get near you again.” “Can you really guarantee that?” She looked at Jayne. “You of all people should know better.” Jayne returned her gaze, determination burning there. “You‟re right. But he‟ll have to go through the rest of us first.” “That‟s what I‟m afraid of,” she said. Abby turned and walked away from the women and the tentative olive branch they had offered. She didn‟t want any more pain or death on her conscience. Her involvement with the labs had left enough of a stain there that she felt she‟d never be clean again. She walked quickly along the hallway. The door of the office she had glimpsed earlier was closed. The rumble of masculine voices paused as she passed even though her feet had been silent on the thick carpet. Therein lay the problem. How did you escape from under the watchful eye of a houseful of shapeshifters? There was no way they‟d miss the growl of an engine starting up, even supposing she could get her hands on the keys. Then there was the snow. Thanks to the ladies, she now knew it wasn‟t far to the nearest town but it would be a fast track to hypothermia if she tried to walk. The weather had seemed so beautiful earlier—now it was just one more obstacle. She smiled as she thought of how she and Nick had played in the snow earlier. The memory sparked off an idea that was so obvious she didn‟t know why she hadn‟t thought of it before. Inside her, the cat stirred, making her presence felt in a rising excitement and anticipation that sent goose bumps prickling over Abby‟s skin.
***** The new lab was certainly a lot grimmer than the old one. Henry walked through the concrete corridors as lab rats scurried around with boxes of equipment. The electric lights flickered and buzzed like insects trapped in jars. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of damp, moisture bubbling and peeling the old cream paint. The tons of earth above him seemed to press down on his shoulders and he averted his gaze from the cracks in the walls. It was obviously a long time since the Ministry of Defense had used this particular facility. He wondered how pissed off the professor was that this was the best his cronies could do for him. It had to burn his backside to leave his palatial mansion and brand-new lab to come here. No doubt Henry would have some of that
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fire passed on to him. He knocked at the door he had been directed to, once again lamenting the decision that had landed him in this situation. “Come in.” The older man lifted his head to look at him. Henry had faced down a lot of scary people in his career but Robert Westford‟s blue eyes were among the scariest he had seen. He was absolutely ruthless. He watched as the man set his pen down precisely in the middle of the desk, lined up with the top of the document he had been working on. “Is everything going to plan, Henry?” “Yes sir.” God help him, if it wasn‟t he certainly wouldn‟t be standing here. “You have the information we needed?” “Yes. The listening devices we hid in the cottage worked perfectly.” He passed the folder of transcripts to the professor, watching as he flicked through it with greedy eyes. Henry knew what was in it, of course. He was the only member of his team who was allowed to listen to the recordings. He couldn‟t believe that the old bastard would treat his niece this way. Following her, spying on her. Allowing her to become involved with one of his experiments. Hell, the girl had been living with him long enough to almost be the man‟s daughter. Then again, Henry wasn‟t exactly in a position to judge the way anyone raised their daughter. He hadn‟t done a stellar job himself. He shut down the memory before it could overwhelm him and turned his attention back to his employer. Westford‟s face lit in a cold smile when he got to the page with the information he was obsessed with. “Bring them back,” he ordered. Henry braced himself and plunged forward. “He contacted his friends. Well, she did. On his behalf. They took them north, to Murray House.” “Yes. I rather thought they might. That won‟t be a problem, will it?” The other man pinned him with those cold eyes again and Henry‟s scalp crawled. “No sir.” And when his conscience whispered at him that this was a step too far, no one knew it but him.
***** The woods at night were a very different place from the woods in the daytime. Realistically, Abby knew that in her current form anything she might meet would be far more scared of her than she was of it, but she was still fearful. Inside she still felt like the little brown mouse her uncle had always compared her to. Bastard. The bag slung around her neck bounced off her front legs as she padded through the damp pine needles, making her clumsy and emphasizing the feeling of inadequacy. Between the bright moon in the clear sky above her and her own improved eyesight it was almost like daylight. Almost. But the woods were still full of unfamiliar noises and shadows. If she listened she could hear that the area was alive with small animals going about their nocturnal business.
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She knew the potholed road leading to the house was a few meters away but it might be even worse to walk along there with the thick foliage looming on either side. Besides, she felt less exposed here. A great white shape swooped close over her head and she crouched flat to the ground. She looked up to see the ghostly form of an owl glide silently on through the trees and cursed her own jumpiness, wishing she were back under the warm duvet with Nick. Abby had pretended to be asleep when he stumbled into the bedroom around midnight. It was obvious that he had been drinking and his clumsiness and whispered expletives had brought a smile to her lips under the covers. She wondered how they had talked him into letting go of his control. The Nick she knew was cautious and reserved. Getting drunk probably wasn‟t the wisest move and the fact that he had relaxed enough to do it spoke volumes for his trust in his friends. Abby only hoped that someday she would be around to see it happen again. It hadn‟t taken him long to fall asleep once he had crawled into bed and curled around her. She had waited for what felt like an eternity to make sure he was in a deep enough sleep for her to ease from under his arm. Slipping into her robe, she had crept through the quiet house with the pack she had hidden under the bed. She had spared a thought for her precious shortbread tin before reassuring herself that it was safer here. Besides, if anything happened to her she knew Nick would use the information inside against her uncle. In the kitchen she entered the code Mary had given her to disable the alarm system long enough to go outside. From there she had run across the lawn and into the woods, bare feet burning from the cold snow. It was the first time she had shifted alone and her heart had pounded so hard Abby thought she might have a heart attack. Her body had flowed from one shape to the other with an ease that was thrilling and frightening. The undergrowth began to thicken and she brought her wandering mind back to attention. It was harder even in her sleek feline form to push through the thick brambles. Thorns snagged her bag and pulled at her fur and as she fought her way through, snow rained through the branches in icy clumps, soaking her. Eventually she emerged into the long grass and ferns at the side of the quiet country road. Abby watched cautiously for a moment but the road was empty. To the left the road rounded a corner and disappeared but on the right she could make out a crossroads in the distance. Junctions usually meant signposts. Keeping to the thick brush, she turned in that direction. A few minutes later she saw that she had been right. A black-and-white road sign stood in the center of the hedgerow, glowing in the moonlight. The nearest towns were two miles and ten miles away. Corriemuchter, the nearest one, even had a little brown Scottish tourist board sign under it with the symbols for a castle and services. Thank God. Ears pricking, she listened but there was still no sign of traffic. On either side the road was the same tangle of long grass, ferns and hedge and beyond that, empty fields. Abby crossed the road quickly, slipping back under cover. This time she found a drainage ditch, the undergrowth closing over it in a lush canopy. Muddy snow covered
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the bottom and it stank of rotten vegetation. Abby wrinkled her nose and started walking. It took longer than she anticipated. The ditch was too shallow in some places and sometimes disappeared altogether. Abby found she had to move behind the hedgerow into the field at times. She might have made better time if she stuck to the field but the pure white of the snow made her more visible than she would like. Only one car had passed, oblivious to her crouching in the mucky bottom of the ditch. She had even closed her eyes in case the headlights picked out their reflective glow. She stood shivering in the slight breeze. Her coat was wet and dirty and even with the stronger constitution of the cat she was succumbing to the cold. The decorative sign at the edge of the village mocked her with the promise of food and a bed but there was unlikely to be anything open at this time. The first priority was finding a safe place and getting warm and dry then she could find some transport out of the village. The streets were dark and deserted and no lights shone from the windows of the pretty little cottages. Abby crept around the back of them into the gardens, alert for any dogs that might give her away. Hoping the weather had kept them all inside. A cat hissed at her bravely from the ledge of a window, goawaymineminegoaway! She resisted the urge to snarl back and show it who was boss. About half a dozen houses down, she came upon a large fenced allotment. At the back she found a heated greenhouse with steamed-up windows. She nudged open the well-oiled sliding door and slipped inside the small gap. The moist heat seeped into her chilled flesh and the air was redolent of peat and the sharp tang of the wall of tomato plants on either side. Abby lowered her head and let the pack fall to the concrete floor. It was perfect. Warm, if not completely dry. There was a wooden bench against the back wall and a water tap in the far wall where she could clean up. After a moment of concentration, she let her transformation sweep over her. She stretched her body into its moreaccustomed shape and sank gratefully onto the bench. As headaches go, it’s not the worst I’ve had in recent memory, Nick thought as he shuffled out of the bathroom. That had to be a good thing, right? Damn Jack for talking him into that beer. Not that he had taken much convincing. He didn‟t bother to turn on the light. The gray daylight seeping around the curtains was more than enough for now. He blinked blearily at the red digits of the alarm clock and saw that it was only just past seven a.m. The soft mattress and warm duvet pulled at him strongly but the fact that his fìor cèile wasn‟t in it gave it less appeal. Instead he put on a pair of clean jeans and t-shirt and headed downstairs. The lights were on in the kitchen and he blinked against the glare, making a beeline for the coffeepot. Cup in hand, he turned to the table, realizing with a start that he wasn‟t alone. Megan, Jack‟s wife, sat at the table, a magazine open in front of her.
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“Good morning.” She smiled at him and toasted him with her mug. “Morning.” His voice was early-morning hoarse and he cleared his throat as he joined her. The windows of the sunroom around them showed the same snowy vista as yesterday, only this time the sky was a heavy, ominous gray. Nick sipped his coffee and studied the woman across from him. She was pretty, with her springy mop of darkbrown curls and blue eyes, but she wasn‟t anything like his brother‟s usual type. But then, neither was Abby anything like his usual type. He frowned and looked around the kitchen as though expecting to find her there. “Nick…” He turned his attention back to Megan, hearing the hesitation in her voice. “About Abby…” she continued. He scowled, prepared to defend his mate again. “What about her?” “She seemed upset last night. And really took Fynn‟s words to heart. Is she all right?” she said. “She was asleep by the time I got to bed. I haven‟t seen her yet this morning.” And that was starting to itch like a burr under a saddle. “She really seems to believe she‟s putting us all in danger by being here.” “I‟ll talk to her.” He stood, the yearning to see his mate becoming more urgent as he listened. He abandoned his coffee and began to search for her. By the time he had exhausted all the common rooms of the house, the yearning had turned to unease. Cameron, Jayne, Ciaran and Jon joined him as he came across them in various places in the house. Drawn into the search by his urgency. Nick told himself he was being stupid, that she was probably walking outside. But something in him said that this wasn‟t the case. He was heading back to the kitchen when it finally occurred to him to open up their bond and try to find her that way. He stopped abruptly in the doorway and closed his eyes. Reached along the familiar mental pathway they had developed in the long hours in the lab but there was nothing. Her familiar presence just gone. Frantic now, he raced for the door to the sunroom. It opened before he got there it and Fynn came inside in a wash of cold air. In his hand he held a bundle of pink fabric that Nick recognized immediately. Abby‟s robe. Fynn pulled a note from the pocket and Nick snatched the damp paper impatiently, but unfolded it gently so that the paper didn‟t tear. Nick, your friends are right. It’s not safe for me to stay here. I would never willingly betray you and I won’t be responsible for bringing my uncle back to your door. Please don’t come after me. I’m sorry, Abby
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Chapter Eleven Instinct took over and Nick snarled, rushing at Fynn. He drew back his fist and punched the smaller man. Fynn grunted and landed hard against the doorjamb, his own fists coming up to retaliate. Strong hands grabbed at Nick and pulled him backwards, clutching tight around his chest. He recognized the familiar sent of his brother and struggled against the restraint. “You!” He pointed at Fynn. “She‟s gone and it‟s your fucking fault!” Fynn stood slowly, wiping blood from his lip. “And it looks as though I was right, doesn‟t it.” “Bastard!” Nick surged against his brother‟s hold. Fynn took a menacing step forward. “Fuck you! Why don‟t you try dealing with this shit?” Cameron stepped between them, palms raised. “Enough!” The two men subsided, glaring at each other. “Fynn, where did you find it?” “Just inside the tree line,” Fynn replied. “Any signs that she was forced to leave?” “No.” His eyes flicked back to Nick and there was a trace of what might have been sympathy there. “Single line of human tracks leading to it and paw prints leading away.” “So she was alone. Ciaran, you‟ve got the best nose, follow the tracks as far as you can,” Cam said. “Right, mate.” The Irishman stepped warily around Fynn, giving him a wide berth and disappeared around the building, eyes on the ground. “I‟m going with him,” Nick growled, shrugging off his brother‟s loosened grip. Cameron put a restraining hand on his arm. “He‟ll move faster without you, Nick, and there‟s less chance that people will freak out if they see him shifted.” “Dammit, Cam! My fìor cèile is out there alone.” Unprotected. “Which is why we need to let Ciaran do what he‟s best at.” Nick turned away from the compassion in his friend‟s eyes. “Why don‟t you go and look through her things, see if she left any clues as to where she might go? Jack and I will see if we can get a hold of her financials. Wherever she goes, she‟s going to need money.” Cameron was right, but every instinct was screaming at Nick to go after her, track her down. Never let her go. It took a supreme act of will to walk out of the room, away from the open door.
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In the end it was a wasted effort. Nick found no hint of Abby‟s plans anywhere. He thought of how sweetly they had made love the previous afternoon and realized that it had been a goodbye of sorts. The melancholy he had glimpsed in her eyes. It was clear now that she had been planning to leave since then. What she had said to the other women after dinner just solidified that knowledge. Ciaran had managed to track her as far as the train station in Corriemuchter. It was unmanned in winter—leaving passengers to buy their tickets onboard—so it was impossible to know where she went after that. Nick had used her laptop to get hold of her access details for her bank account and Cam and Jack had set up a program to watch for any movement there. That was going to take time, though. He knew she had taken money from her account before she rescued him, knowing her uncle might be able to find her that way. He felt helpless and once more cut adrift from the things that he cared about most. “You okay, bro?” Jack asked. Nick looked away from the dancing flames of the fireplace and up at his brother‟s concerned face. Nick snorted. “No.” He turned his gaze back to the fireplace. “You‟d think all that time in a cell would have taught me patience but I‟m still no damn good at waiting.” Jack sat next to him, a familiar, solid presence. “At least you‟re not doing it alone this time.” Nick shook his head. “I wasn‟t alone then either.” He was silent a moment. “She saved my life, you know. I don‟t just mean by getting me out. She kept me sane. This ability she has…she can talk to animals—a regular Ms. Doolittle.” He smiled and shook his head. “You‟d think, „what use is that?‟ but it meant she could communicate with me even before the Ceangal. Even when the cat began to take over she was still there in my head, reminding me that there was someone worth holding on for. Then, when the time came that I wasn‟t able to come back, that the cat was fully in control, she reasoned with him, asked him to step back so she could complete the ritual with me. I was gone, Jack. She saved me.” Nick met his brother‟s eyes again. “Why didn‟t she trust me to do the same?” “I don‟t know.” Jack laid a hand on his arm, determination broadcasting from every line of his body. “We‟ll get her back, Nick.” The road was slippery with ice when Henry cautiously pulled his utilitarian old SUV onto the frozen mud at the gateway to a field. The sky was thick with yellow-gray snow clouds and the temperature hovered just above freezing. When he finished this job he was going to take himself off to a nice sunny beach somewhere. He wasn‟t getting any younger and it was time to start enjoying the money he‟d made before he was too old to appreciate it. Besides, he had lost his passion for it after Ann… Anyway, getting off this cold, wet little island was going to be his first step. At least he wasn‟t relying on any toy soldiers to watch his quarry this time.
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He slid the laptop from its padded case on the seat behind him onto his knee and powered it up. It troubled him a bit that the professor would plant a bug in the girl‟s body but he saw the sense in such an action. She was a weak link and the bug was meant to help them get her back should someone try to use her against them. Which was exactly what he was using it for. Whether or not the girl left of her own accord didn‟t matter. Still, part of him whispered that you didn‟t treat your family this way. Henry had been raised to believe that family is everything, even if they are all useless, pathetic wasters. Family always came first. If he had remembered that advice then, perhaps his own daughter would still be alive. Instead he had let his anger and disgust overrule his heart and she had died alone in that hovel with a needle in her arm. He told himself again that this was for Abby‟s safety. It made sense that Westford would want his niece back where he could keep an eye on her. From what little he had seen of her she was quiet and shy. Did what she was told and generally kept out of the way. She was vulnerable. Of course, she wasn‟t so defenseless now. He didn‟t like that her uncle had brought her into his experiment but there wasn‟t much Henry could do about it. It was too late now. Henry shook it off and opened up the satellite tracking program. It was a nifty bit of kit. Sometimes it definitely paid to have friends in high places—he wished he had a few of the professor‟s connections himself. The familiar map of the UK appeared on the screen with the slowly flashing yellow dot that indicated his quarry. He frowned at it, puzzled, and then cursed as he zoomed in closer. They had fucking moved! Henry snapped the laptop closed and slung it back onto the seat beside him. Anger made his movements jerky as he slipped and slid his way through a three-point turn and pointed his car in the direction of Edinburgh. Screeching chairs and chatter in a multitude of languages battled with the wailing of the piper on the street corner, all vying for dominance. The coffee shop was packed. Abby leaned against the back wall with her bag at her feet and watched the throngs of tourists pass by the window as they made their way along the steep slope to or from the castle. Open-fronted shops spilled their fluffy haggis, highland cows, tartans and blueand-white-flagged goods out onto the high pavements, each shop playing some variation on “Scottish music” in a bid to win the hearts of the passersby. Four steps down on the road a few vehicles slowly rumbled over the cobblestones. It was chaos and the perfect place to get lost for a while ‟til she figured out what to do next. The Royal Mile was such a blend of tourists and backpackers and students that, scruffy as she was, she still didn‟t look out of place. The whole place was buzzing with life and Abby felt like death. At the train station that morning she had looked at the map and chosen the nearest big city. Glasgow was tempting because it was familiar but Edinburgh had seemed the safer option. A couple of train journeys later, here she was. As she shopped for a bigger bag and some other necessities, she found that she hadn‟t counted on the effect her recent transformation would have. The city had become a much more frightening place, 77
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filled with noise and traffic and fumes. It played havoc with her enhanced senses and her animal side wasn‟t impressed. The tall, old and new-old buildings loomed over the narrow streets and made her feel trapped. She found she jumped at every unexpected blare of a horn or siren and hugged the walls in an effort to stay as far away from the traffic as possible. Would it always be like this? Hopefully not, because in the past Abby had loved the energy of a big city almost as much as she enjoyed the peace of the countryside. She yearned for her mate. For him to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would all be fine and make this whole thing seem normal and natural. It surprised her just how much she missed him—Abby wasn‟t used to needing anyone. Someone dropped their cup and smashed it, the loud crash yet another assault on her ears, and suddenly she couldn‟t stand it anymore. She stood, shouldering her bag and stepped back out into the crowds. She needed to find somewhere to rest, let her tired mind regroup so that she could figure out what to do. The only way to keep Nick and his friends safe was to stop her uncle. She just didn‟t know how to do that. She found an economy hotel just off the Royal Mile and talked the receptionist into letting her pay by cash, concocting a story about losing her wallet with all her cards in it. She must have looked the part because the woman agreed, provided she paid in advance, and asked if she had been to the police. Abby assured her she had and followed her directions to the second-floor room. The bustle of the city was still audible but was considerably quieter. She shut the door with a relieved sigh and sank onto the bed and quickly into sleep. The slamming of a room door woke her several hours later. She felt even grungier than before for having slept in her clothes but her mind was once more clear. She wondered how Nick was feeling. Was he angry with her? Did he miss her as much as she was missing him? Less than twenty-four hours apart and she craved his company. She resisted the urge to linger under the hot water as she showered, so different from the freezing-cold tap she had used just that morning. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that her last proper meal had been dinner the night before. Dressed in new jeans and a jumper, she went out in search of something to eat. It was evening but the streets were still busy with tourists. Abby shrugged her new jacket tighter around her as the winter chill bit at her. It stung her cheeks, nipped at her ears and fogged her breath. She turned uphill in the direction of the main road, falling into step behind a group of giggling girls. There were a multitude of eating places there and while they might prove more expensive, they would also be busy enough that she‟d be unnoticed. Window-shopping as she walked, she tried to ignore the uneasy sensation that crawled over her skin. It was nothing she could put her finger on. The street was well lit and there were lots of people and traffic around, nothing obvious to explain her disquiet. She kept moving and tried to resist the urge to look over her shoulder again. Instead, Abby studied the dark shop windows she passed, looking for familiar faces or
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anyone who seemed interested in her. No one seemed to be paying her any attention but the feeling that someone was watching her persisted. Up ahead, light flooded onto the pavement from a souvenir shop. Abby quickened her pace and stepped inside. A heater above the door blasted warm air onto her as she passed through the doorway. Bagpipes and fiddles blared out of speakers. The shop was crowded with bodies and she had to force herself to move farther inside. At the other side of a row of shelves she picked up a Loch Ness Monster toy and pretended to examine it while watching the door. No one followed her and life flowed by on the street outside without any noticeable change. After five minutes or so she was uncomfortably hot and the store clerk was beginning to eye her with suspicion. As if she‟d want to steal a tacky souvenir. She put the toy back on the shelf and eased her way back along the narrow aisle and out into the cold. Maybe it was just her imagination. Cautiously, she started back up the hill and tried to convince herself that this was the case. The feeling niggled at her, though, and she didn‟t want to ignore it. As she turned back onto the Royal Mile she risked another glance behind her. This time she caught a glimpse of a familiar face. He was a distance away and lowered his eyes quickly but she was sure of it. Abby didn‟t know his name but she had seen him at the laboratory. Stocky build with very short, almost military-cut dark hair and a thick mustache. Her heartbeat went from rest to panic in less than sixty seconds. How did they find her? They had to have followed her from Murray House, which meant that they knew she had changed. But why hadn‟t they picked her up before now? Fear swamped her, making her queasy, she couldn‟t go back there. It wasn‟t just about her own safety now. Every instinct said run, flee, but she forced herself to walk at the same steady pace. Mind working frantically, she searched her limited knowledge of the area for a possible escape route. There were lots of alleyways leading from the main road back down onto lower streets but she wasn‟t familiar enough with them to know which ones to take. Some of them had been blocked over the years by the businesses that bordered them. If she chose the wrong one she‟d be cornered. Most of them led onto quieter streets anyway, which would lose her the safety of witnesses. The crowd thickened as she approached Mercat Cross and over the excited chatter she heard the shouting of the guides who led the haunted tours. She threaded her way through the press of people, following the tide when a group broke off to board a bus idling at the curb. They jostled for position at the door while the guide collected their tickets. When she looked back, she saw no sign of the man following her and slipped around the front of the bus and across the street and into the pub opposite. With any luck he would think she had joined the tour and it would buy her some time. So much for her bag full of nice new clothes. There was no way to go back for it now. If they had followed her from Cameron‟s place the man must know where she was staying. She had nothing that couldn‟t be replaced anyway. Everything important was in her pockets.
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The long, narrow pub was softly lit and it busy. The tables filled with people eating and drinking. Those who couldn‟t get a seat stood chatting, all but filling the floor space. The television in the corner was playing a football match and a small knot of men with pint glasses stood watching it with rapt attention. On the left wall a long counter stretched from just inside the door almost all the way to the back of the room. Abby skirted around the men and moved deeper inside to the end of the bar where she could watch the door. The barman approached and she ordered and paid for a soft drink but was tempted to shore it up with some Dutch courage. One of the things she had discovered over the last few months was that the body isn‟t good at maintaining a constant state of fear. When nothing happens, eventually some switch in your brain is tripped and you begin to relax. Abby was just reaching that point a few minutes later when someone stepped so close behind her she could feel the heat of his breath on the back of her neck. His arm slid around her waist and she looked down to see a gun in his hand. She blinked at it stupidly. She‟d never seen a real gun before. One that shot actual bullets and not tranquilizer darts…or water. It was bigger than she thought it would be. All the blood drained out of her head and she suddenly felt dizzy. The man‟s voice was soft and merciless. “Don‟t say a word, Miss Westford. Just smile at the nice barman and come with me. Your uncle wants you home.” Abby looked up to see the barman frowning at them. She forced a trembling smile to her lips and turned to the man behind her. He had his hand in his pocket, the gun concealed by the heavy fabric of his coat. He nodded to the door at the back of the room with a wooden SMOKERS sign above it. It led out to a small patio and a shelter had been built after the smoking ban had gone into effect. The air was heavy with the stench of stale tobacco. The man nudged Abby out. When he saw it was deserted he grabbed her arm to hurry her along. Behind the wooden shelter was a tall fence and a gate that opened onto one of the dark, steeply sloped alleyways. Abby could see the throng of people walking past on the Royal Mile. They might as well have been on Mars. “Don‟t even think about shouting, lass. Move.” She stumbled on the cobblestones and would have fallen if not for the grip he had on her. His fingers pressed through her jacket with bruising strength. A white transit van pulled up at the far end of the alley and he pushed her relentlessly towards it.
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Chapter Twelve The girl moved slower than he would have liked, head turning this way and that as she searched for a way to get away from him. Henry stayed close, attention fixed on her and on their surroundings. This was too public, too many chances for things to go wrong. Only a hundred yards away thousands of tourists paraded up and down the main thoroughfare. Peering into all the streets and alleys, taking far too much notice of things going on around them. He pressed closer to her back, urging her on. “Faster. Don‟t want anyone getting hurt, now.” “Please. Don‟t take me back there.” She turned brown, fearful eyes on him. He shook his head impatiently. “No use begging. You got yourself into this situation.” She had left him no choice. She had covered it well but he knew she‟d seen him following her. It wouldn‟t take her long to escape him again. He had no intention of letting her get near the train or bus station and having him chase her all over the country. Before long her friends would find her and that would make his life even more difficult. Better to take the chance and get this over with. He had phoned ahead and had one of his guys bring a van. If she changed it would be too dangerous, probably fatal, in fact, to transport her in his four-wheel drive. The alley the van was in was quiet—there were no shops open here and no restaurants to draw the people off the main road. Henry pulled open the back door and gestured at her. “Get inside, into the cage. Can‟t have you causing me any more hassle.” “He‟ll kill me.” Henry rolled his eyes. “He won‟t kill you, lass. He‟s your uncle.” He watched as she glared at him, gaze full of scorn, and climbed into the cage, locking the door behind her. He waggled his fingers at her until she tossed the keys at him. He caught them inches from his face and shook his head at her. It was true, her life from here on wasn‟t going to be easy, but when had it ever been? Henry justified it to himself. Professor Westford was a hard man. He hadn‟t killed the other one, though, had he? The first one. Family was family, no matter how they screw up, and a fiancée counted. But what kind of life was she living now? To Henry, spending the rest of your days trapped in a cage would be worse than dying. Still, he steadfastly ignored that little voice in his head that said this was wrong. He had done much worse in his lifetime. Why was this one deed troubling him? His daughter‟s death had made him soft. He should have retired after that last job as he‟d intended to. It was a bad, bad sign when a man like him started to be bothered by his conscience. He slammed the door shut and got into the passenger seat, nodding at the driver. 81
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“Take us back.” He turned on the radio and found a news channel, anything to drown out that damn voice for the next couple of hours. He would see this through then get out, before his newfound principles got him into trouble he couldn‟t get out of. Hours later the van jerked to a halt, throwing Abby against the bars of the cage hard enough to bruise. She was stiff and sore from the cramped position she had been stuck in. Her brain had been chasing itself around in scared circles for so long that she was exhausted. Abby wanted desperately to reach out for Nick but dared not—it would completely defeat the purpose of her leaving him. Her animal wanted out. It raged against the tight mental hold she had on it, leaving her feeling as bruised inside as she was out. She knew instinctively that if she changed her animal nature would take charge, feeding off the anger and fear. Once it was free, she had no idea if she would be able to control her own actions. The back door opened and she shielded her face against the flood of light with her hand, blinking away tears as her eyes adjusted. The hard-eyed man with the gun stood watching her impassively. Behind him was what looked like the interior of an old warehouse with rusted, corrugated iron walls and a dirty concrete floor. Fluorescent lights swung gently from chains on the ceiling, bathing everything in their sterile white light. Frigid air blew through the van doors and she shivered as it chilled her hands and found its way down her neck. Gritty footsteps echoed towards them and the man‟s eyes cut to the left. The briefest flicker of distaste crossed his face before it became even more remote. He stepped back and Abby‟s uncle rounded the door. “About time, Henry.” He turned to look at her, eyes invisible behind his wirerimmed glasses. This time Abby shivered with more than the cold. “Take her to the lab,” he ordered and turned away from her without acknowledging her. Abby‟s fear shot up another notch. Did he think of her as one of his lab animals now? The thought was terrifying. As his niece, he had barely noticed her. When she was younger she had craved his attention. Now she feared it. The clatter of metal on wood brought her attention back to the present. A set of keys slid across the floor towards her. “Right, lass, unlock the cage and throw them back to me.” She did as he asked, her cold, numb flingers struggling to guide the key into the keyhole. He waited patiently until she threw the jingling bunch back at his head. He caught them with one-handed ease and stuffed them into his pocket with a small smirk. Abby crawled out of the van and straightened gingerly. The vast building was indeed an old warehouse. Stacks of boxes and piles of equipment covered with tarpaulins lined the walls. Apart from the transit van she had just climbed out of, there were a couple of four-wheel drives, her uncle‟s silver Mercedes Benz and the truck she had run off the road, its side panels dented and crumpled.
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There were large double doors in one wall where they had no doubt entered and a couple of doors opposite each other at the back. Abby eyed the smaller doors and wondered if she could make it there without getting herself shot. On the journey it had occurred to her belatedly that the man, Henry, was unlikely to damage her much. Her uncle would want her fit enough to talk, after all. If she‟d realized it sooner she would have taken her chances in Edinburgh. The sight of that gun had driven all rational thought from her mind and now she was cursing herself. Idiot. If this were a movie, she would have been screaming at the television. Before she could talk herself out of it she threw herself at the big man. Off balance, he stumbled backwards and she ran for the nearest doors, skirting behind the boxes as she did, trying to stay behind some kind of cover. Abby knew even as she ran that it was a futile attempt but pride demanded that she try. She was almost to the door before she realized that he wasn‟t following her. There were no shouts, no gunshots. She glanced back to see him watching her, face grim. As she tried the handle she realized why. Locked. It was a sure bet that the others were also locked, except perhaps for the large doors they had just come in. She began moving in that direction, moving faster when he frowned and took a step towards her. “There‟s no point, lass. Where are you going to go? We‟re in the middle of nowhere and it won‟t take long for us to find you again.” He moved to intercept her, taking his time, speaking quietly. “Don‟t you want to know how we found you? Did you think we just followed you?” He barked out a laugh. “It was easier than that, lass. We could have taken you anytime. Even while you were in that wee cottage.” Abby‟s steps faltered as shock slammed into her. They knew about the cottage? His voice was a low, insidious whisper. “Fact is, we could have had you anytime. Remember getting your appendix out a few years ago? Your uncle convinced the surgeons to implant a small device in your body to allow him to keep track of you. To keep you safe. It didn‟t take much convincing. They knew he was an important man.” She stopped, body going cold as her strength drained out of her. It was impossible, wasn‟t it? “No. I would have known. They would have told me.” Which was ridiculous of course, they would have done anything Uncle Robert told them to do. Henry‟s next words confirmed that thought. “Not really, they understood that if you were to be truly safe then you couldn‟t know about it. So that you wouldn‟t be able to tell anyone who got a hold of you.” Abby‟s skin crawled as she thought about the bug somewhere in her body. She felt violated and betrayed all over again. Just when she had thought there was nothing worse that her uncle could do to her. Henry was only feet away from her now but Abby made no move to escape him. He was right. Until she found out a way to disable the bug there was nowhere to run. She waited for him to reach her side and grip her arm, leading her back to the professor‟s side.
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“What were you whispering about?” the old man snapped. “I was just convincing her it was in her best interests to stay where she was, sir.” Robert Westford looked down his nose at them, lip curled in distaste. “Take her downstairs, Henry, I‟m not in the mood for any more games. Let‟s see what we can do to make her a bit more agreeable.” A hard shudder rattled through her body. The old man‟s eyes were almost gleeful. She felt Henry‟s fingers tighten on her arm. Abby glanced at him and again saw the flicker of disgust come and go before his expression turned to stone again. She followed him to another set of doors, taking a step back in surprise when they opened to a large elevator. The big man scowled at her and jerked her into the metal compartment. The linoleum was cracked and bubbling beneath her feet and the ceiling light shone dimly through yellowed plastic and the carcasses of desiccated insects. Henry slid a plastic card into a slot in the keypad and pushed the down button. They started moving with a lurch that lodged her heart even farther into her throat. “Please, Henry, don‟t let him do this to me. He will kill me. Maybe not straightaway, but eventually. To him I‟m no better than one of his subjects. I‟ve never been his niece. Please!” she begged. He gave no sign that he‟d heard her. The doors opened onto a corridor that wasn‟t in any better shape than the elevator and Abby felt a tiny measure of satisfaction that the bastard‟s circumstances had been lowered so much. The corridor was lined by what looked like ordinary office doors and she tried not to be intimidated by the thought of the tons of earth that was between her and freedom. “My fiancé has money. He will pay you much more than my uncle ever could for my safe return.” Then piss on your cold, dead body and take it back, she thought grimly. Henry appeared unmoved as he opened a door and led her into a room that had obviously been hastily transformed into a version of the professor‟s preferred workplace. Shelves and work benches lined two of the walls and a sink and countertop with a fridge the third. A desk, chair and filing cabinet made a small office space in the corner. Gracing the center of the room was the chair her uncle used for his subjects. A macabre version of a dentist‟s chair complete with restraints and a light. Abby‟s feet froze to the floor. Surprisingly, Henry didn‟t try to force her forward. His forehead was creased in a thoughtful frown. Footsteps approached behind them and he stepped to the side as a man in a lab coat entered. He smiled nastily at her and Abby realized he was the man who had been driving the van transporting Nick. The one she had left unconscious what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Put her in the chair.” It might have been wishful thinking but Abby felt as though Henry hesitated for an instant before he pulled her towards it. There wasn‟t much she could do to prevent it but she wasn‟t going to make it easy for either of them to strap her into that thing. “NO!”
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Abby made a grab for the doorframe but Henry had anticipated it and blocked her. She kicked and scratched, screaming words she didn‟t even know she knew. He wrestled with her, contributing a few curses himself. Her frustration, anger and fear grew inside her until it seemed to be too big for her skin to contain. It rushed through her body in a wall of heat and poured from her in an animalistic scream as she tore at her clothes. Vaguely she became aware that she was on the ground and the men had backed off. Henry was wiping blood from his lip, his expression blank, while the other man fumbled in the cupboard. She snarled at them and flicked her tail. Prey. She crouched, ready to leap when Henry drew a gun from under his coat, pointing and firing in one practiced move. The impact drove her back and she yowled at the new pain. Before she could gather her wits to attack again her limbs began to feel heavy, dragging her back to the ground. She shook her head against the creeping lethargy and called out to her mate before sinking into darkness. The cat closed her eyes and lay still. Henry slid the tranquilizer pistol back into its holster. The lab rat beside him visibly gathered his wits and sidled over to the sleeping animal. He sneered nastily and kicked her hard in the ribs. Henry frowned. “Are you sure you should be doing that, lad?” The other man snorted. “I can do whatever I like to her, mate, as long as it doesn‟t kill her and she‟s still able to talk afterwards. Beat her, fuck her. Whatever. Professor Westford said she‟s mine until he thinks she‟s ready. Not that she‟s any fucking good to me until the tranq wears off, thanks a lot.” Henry stared coldly at him. “Would you rather I let her rip you to shreds, Frank?” He wasn‟t happy with the fact that the girl had apparently been right. There was no mercy in Westford‟s heart. She was going to be just another subject. “I could have handled her. Help me get the bitch into a cell ‟til she wakes up enough to be fun.” He shook his head with obvious disappointment. “Gonna be the morning before she‟s much good to anyone now.” Between the two of them they managed to wrestle the sleeping cat across the hall and into a room containing several large cages. Henry felt the steady, malevolent stare from the far corner of the room and did his best to ignore it. That one was dangerous, too far gone to the animal side. Feral, wild and unpredictable. It was surprising that Professor Westford hadn‟t gotten rid of her yet. They dragged Abby into the nearest cage and threw her clothes in after her, locking the door. Henry watched the lab rat leave the room. The golden panther slept on, unaware of the horror that waited. Could he walk away from her the way he had his own daughter? Ann had begged for his help too and perhaps if he had listened…he closed his eyes against another rush of guilt. You just didn‟t treat family like that.
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Chapter Thirteen The golden cat eased out of the trees like Scottish mist. Silent, keeping low to the ground, footsteps whisper-soft. Sun sparkled off the moisture on her fur. She edged into the sunlight and as she shook herself she stretched and transformed, leaving behind a woman whose creamy skin glowed in the sun. She shook her hair back out of her face and, smiling, began to walk towards him. Nick rose to his feet to meet her. “Abby.” “Nick.” He kissed her, teasing her lips open to plunge his tongue inside. Feeling the thrill of satisfaction when she gripped his shoulders and kissed him hungrily back. Reluctantly, he pulled away, taking her hand and leading her back to the blanket. They lay on their sides facing each other and Nick caressed the length of her arm. The skin soft and warm beneath his fingertips. A gentle, warm breeze whispered over the loch, shushing through the trees that towered over them and stirring the scent of earth and pine. Abby shivered and goose bumps rose in the wake of his touch. “Cold?” he asked. “No.” She shook her head and leaned forward to kiss the line of his jaw and down his neck. Nick groaned and pulled her closer, his erection nudging her belly. He nipped at her earlobe and she tipped her head back to give him access, guiding his mouth to her breasts. He stopped to admire them, cupping one in his hand and smoothing his thumb over her nipple. Watching as it tightened and a flush of pink spread over her chest and neck and to her face. “I love it when you touch me there.” “Honey, they are beautiful.” He bent to lave the ruched flesh, sucking one, then the other until Abby arched her back and moaned. She urged him back into her arms and kissed him, hooking her leg over his and rocking against his thigh. She was wet and his cock twitched in anticipation. She reached between them with one hand to grasp his hard-on, rubbing her thumb against the tip and through the sticky pre-cum. “God help me!” Nick‟s hips twitched before he could prevent it, thrusting against her grip, and she gave a small, feline smile. “You want to come inside me, Nick?” She squeezed him gently and rocked her hips again. “I‟m ready for you. Can you feel it? So wet. And. Hot.” She punctuated her words with a kiss and a stroke of her fist. Nick trembled against the erotic assault, helpless. “Oh fuck!”
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She released his cock to throb between them with the beat of his drumming heart and lifted her fingers to her lips to taste his essence. Then she purred. For a moment, Nick thought his head and his cock would explode. He crushed his lips to hers and gathered the frayed ends of his control. He shuddered as he took hold of himself and guided the head of his dick to her pussy. Hot, wet heat enveloped him and it took all his control to wait there, just inside. “Are you ready?” In response, she lifted her hips, sheathing him inside her. They both cried out. Nick panted against her hair and when his head stopped spinning he lifted to his elbows so that he could meet her gaze. They thrust together, climbing higher and higher. Lips against lips, tongues dueling. Pleasure building ‟til it burst, hot, sticky and sweet between them. Their voices echoed over the loch, shattering the peace. They lay together, hearts beating in unison, breath calming while the breeze cooled them. “Where are you, Abby?” Above them clouds drifted over the sun and the shadows deepened in the pine trees. The wind grew colder and a few flakes of snow drifted down to melt on Nick‟s shoulders and against Abby‟s face. They joined the tears that silvered on her cheeks. Nick lifted a hand to wipe them away. The snow began to fall harder. Nick got to his feet and turned to his mate only to find the blanket empty. The wind whipped at him, stealing his words as he shouted for her. When he looked around he saw only swirling white clouds, hiding the loch and the trees from his searching gaze. It whirled around him, stinging his skin and eyes with icy lashes until even the blanket disappeared. His heart pounded and nausea rose up greasy and thick. “Abby!” Nick jolted out of hard-won sleep, heart hammering. The fire glowed softly in the hearth, the only light in the dim living room. He could hear the soft voices of his friends and family in the other kitchen. He rubbed the chill of goose bumps that had spread over his arms and tried to shake off the lingering effects of his exhaustion. Something was wrong. He threw off the blanket that someone had covered him with when he had fallen asleep in the armchair and made his way into the kitchen. Jack, Cam, Chris and Ciaran huddled around the kitchen table, talking quietly. Outside the glass walls of the conservatory, the sun struggled to rise behind the heavy white clouds shrouding it. Mist swirled around the base of the pine trees and hovered over the snow-covered lawn. It moved slightly in gentle flows and eddies so that it almost looked as though the trees were breathing in the frosty morning air. Nick shook his head and stepped farther into the room. The men turned to look at him and Chris lifted the coffeepot in silent invitation. “You only slept for about thirty minutes, Nicky,” Jack said, quick to recognize the guilt and worry in Nick‟s face.
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“Something‟s wrong.” Nick sat and once more rubbed the chill from his arms as the feeling of wrongness intensified. If this was what Fynn felt then it was no wonder he was a miserable bastard all the time. He accepted the cup of coffee Chris passed to him and sipped the bitter brew to give himself something to do. His whole being was rebelling against the inaction. It made him feel more jittery than any amount of caffeine could. The four men watched him warily until the quiet grew thick and uncomfortable. Into the tense atmosphere walked the miserable bastard himself and Nick had to smother a growl. There was enough blame to go around but Fynn was the one who had been the most vocal about it. No wonder Abby had felt she couldn‟t stay. Fynn met his eyes unflinchingly, pulled out a chair and sat. He placed Cam‟s home phone in the center of the table and the men looked at him. Fynn sat back and folded his arms, nodding at the receiver. “Wait,” he stated. “Why you gotta be so fucking enigmatic, Fynn? That‟s all you got? Fucking wait?” Nick slammed his cup on to the table and lukewarm coffee sloshed onto the polished surface. “That was it, Nick. That was the message. If you don‟t like it you can fuck off. You know how I feel about this.” His tone was low and controlled, face calm, but the anger in his eyes betrayed him. Their gazes clashed, each daring the other to make the first move. Into the silence, the phone rang. Ciaran cleared his throat. “Are one of you going to answer it then, lads?” Nick switched his glare to the Irishman and grabbed the phone. “Hello?” “Nick, so nice to hear you again. You sound a bit more robust than the last time we spoke.” Robert Westford‟s cultured tones made Nick feel as though ants were crawling all over his skin. “It‟s amazing what being out in the fresh air will do for you,” he said as he switched the phone to speaker. “What do you want?” “What I‟ve always wanted, to finish my research. I‟m almost there but there are still a few pieces missing.” Everything in him was screaming at him to hang up on his torturer but something in the professor‟s tone told him the punch line was yet to come. He met the eyes of the men gathered around the table and saw the same fear in their eyes. “That‟s a real shame, professor. I don‟t think I‟m interested in helping you find those pieces.” “Are you sure? Not even if I helped you find something you‟ve lost in return?” The words hit Nick like a fist to his chest, taking his breath. He gripped the table for support and closed his eyes. It was an effort to speak. Don’t hurt her. Though he knew it was no doubt too late for that. “How?”
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“She was picked up in Edinburgh yesterday. It was careless of you to lose her so quickly. She‟s become so willful of late, such a shame.” “Tell me where to meet you.” Jack stood, a protest forming on his lips but Cam put a restraining hand on his arm and he froze, anger plain on his face. Nick shook his head at his brother as the old man chuckled. “Oh, I don‟t want you anymore. I have all the information I need from males of your species after you‟ve transformed.” The statement in itself was enough to make Nick nauseous. How many shifters had this man forced to transform? “Then what do you want?” he asked. “I need a fresh subject. An unmated male, I don‟t care who.” Nick was silent. How could he deliver another person into the hands of this monster? How could he justify the sacrifice the life of someone else for the life of his fìor cèile? Not just their life but their sanity. He knew well what was awaiting the professor‟s next subject. “I see I‟ve shocked you.” Westford‟s voice was filled with a mocking humor. “Why don‟t I give you some time to think about it? I‟m sure I can find plenty to do in the meantime.” “No!” Nick looked up to the voice from the doorway and met Jon‟s determined gaze. “I‟ll do it.” Nick hit the mute button on the phone as a chorus of protests rose up around the room. Jon shook his head and walked over to the table. “It‟s my choice to make. I‟m not stupid, guys.” He squeezed Chris‟ shoulder, offering his brother silent reassurance, and reached over to unmute the phone. “I‟ll do it. But first, how do we know you‟ll release Abby as planned?” “I give you my word. That will have to be good enough. Besides, after I have the samples I want from her she‟s of little use to me. It would save me the trouble of disposing of her.” Nick saw Jonathon pale at the man‟s casual disregard. Their eyes met and Nick nodded, they had little choice but to agree to the man‟s terms. They would make their own plans anyway. “All right.” “Excellent. My men are on their way. They will wait for you at the main road in two hours. When I‟m satisfied that you‟ve sent me a suitable subject I‟ll return the girl to you.” He hung up and the kitchen was again filled with the clamor of protesting voices. Nick raised his head, meeting the younger man‟s eyes again. “This isn‟t a good idea, Jon. I know what he‟s capable of. I can‟t let you do this.” “There‟s no other way, Nick. I trust you guys to get me out.” There was fear and stubborn determination in Jon‟s face. He smiled suddenly. “Just don‟t take as long as the last time.” “This isn‟t a joke, Jon.”
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“You think I don‟t know that? I see you standing in front of me, see what he did to you. I heard you when you told us how he beat you, tortured you,” he replied and walked over to stand in front of Nick. “It scares the shit out of me but I‟m the only one who can do this.” Fynn looked ready to protest but Jon frowned at him. “You can‟t, Fynn. Twentyfour-hour surveillance? What if you had a vision? We can‟t let them get their hands on you.” Fynn scowled at him and Chris rolled his eyes. “Besides, I need you out here where you can help them get me out.” Chris stood and the brothers stared at each other for a moment. “I wish you wouldn‟t do this, Jon…but I know I can‟t stop you. Just…please…take care. I want you back safely.” He looked around the room. “Let‟s see what we can do to make sure that happens.” The mist had dispersed but dampness lay heavy in the air and the cold stung his face and hands. Nick and Jon trudged away from the SUV, keeping to the edge of the rutted mud track Cam laughingly called a road. He knew the others were in the woods around them but he neither heard nor saw any sign of them. Ciaran and Rianne were waiting in another SUV in a hidden access road farther along the main road, waiting to follow Jon. He felt Jon‟s tension and resisted the urge to try to talk him out of this again. He knew the younger man wouldn‟t be any more receptive to it now than he had been the last dozen times. The canopy of trees began to thin out over their heads and as they rounded the next bend the main road came into view. A white van was parked at the end of the uneven driveway and as they watched, two men jumped out. The bigger one was dressed casually in jeans and a heavy winter jacket, his head was covered by a dark-blue woolen cap. The other one was dressed in urban mercenary chic—black cargo pants with numerous pockets, a black jacket and hat to match. All he needed was a walkie-talkie and a rifle and he could have stepped right out of a movie. He just screamed bad guy. Nick snorted and shook his head, turning his attention back to the other man. He was definitely the bigger threat. As they got closer, the mustached face prodded at Nick‟s memory. “Stop there.” It wasn‟t until the big man spoke that the memory came flooding back. “No uniform today?” “The uniform only comes out on special occasions, Mr. Douglass.” The man‟s eyes were cold and watchful. “I‟m going to have to ask your friend to strip.” “Come on, mate, I‟ll freeze my backside off!” Jon protested. It was something they had feared would be a possibility but hoped to avoid. There were bugs hidden in Jon‟s clothing. “There‟re clothes for you in the van, lad. Let‟s keep this nice and easy for everyone.” 90
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“Fuck,” Jon muttered and began stripping, handing his clothes to Nick. When he was down to his plain white shorts he hesitated. The big man smirked at him and said, “You can keep those on ‟til you get in the van if you like.” Jon flipped him the bird before turning to look at Nick, goose bumps pebbled his skin. They embraced briefly. “Be careful, Jon, we‟ll see you soon.” “You had better, you bastard.” With a final slap on the back they drew apart. Jon stepped towards the men, slipping off his shorts to stand naked and vulnerable in the cold winter air. “Turn around, lad.” Jon complied and the man nodded at him with an air of satisfaction. “Right. Get into the cage and lock the door then throw me the keys.” Nick watched his friend disappear into the vehicle, heart in his throat. He prayed the younger man would be okay. A moment later a set of jingling keys were thrown out and caught. The big man shut the doors while his companion jumped back into the driver‟s seat and then he took his own place in the front of the van. Nick watched the van disappear down the treacherous road and said a silent prayer for his friend. “They‟re gone.” A few seconds later Ciaran‟s SUV passed him and Cameron and Jack stepped out of the trees. Nick gathered up Jon‟s clothes and boots. “They made him strip, so no bugs.” “It was a slim chance anyway. He‟ll be fine, Nick. We‟ll get them both back.” Jack‟s voice was confident but his expression contradicted him. Nick wondered if his brother had said similar words when he himself had been abducted. They headed back to their SUV, keeping once again to the frozen edges of the mud. “He might be fine, but he‟ll never be the same again. You and I both know it, Cam,” Nick said. “It doesn‟t take that man long to fuck people up. And he calls us animals.” “I know, my friend. We‟ll just have to be there for him afterwards.” They fell silent as Chris jogged out of the trees, sliding his cell phone closed. “They‟re on them. He‟ll call us when he knows more. We may as well go back to the house, there‟s no point us following as well. Don‟t want to make it a parade.” Jayne and Megan were waiting in the kitchen, going immediately to the arms of their mates. Nick turned away from them, envious. Mary met his eyes with her sympathetic gaze and he turned away from that too. He didn‟t need it. What he needed was Abby. Why did she have to run away from him? Rubbing the heel of his hand over the dull ache in his chest, he went to stand by the window. She was out there somewhere, she had reached out to him as they slept. The knowledge should have comforted him but he still felt the absence of her in his mind like a phantom limb. “You know I vote that when we catch up with the bastard this time he doesn‟t get to leave in one piece. Or, you know, at all.” He turned to face Cameron‟s flame-haired fìor cèile as she joined him in front of the glass. “That‟s very…bloodthirsty of you.”
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She smirked at him. “I‟d say it was a new skill since Cam changed me but I‟d be lying. I once threatened to cut off your brother‟s balls and feed them to him.” He looked into her green eyes and resisted the urge to cover his crotch. “Good to know.” He cleared his throat and turned back to the wintry scene outside. “I have no intention of letting him walk away. The professor and I have a score to settle.” “Fabulous. Give him a kick in the nuts for me, will you?” She walked away before he could answer, going back to the table to sit with the others. With a sigh, he joined them. “Has Fynn found anything else to go on?” “No, there have been no hits on any of the online searches. He‟s trying to get a hold of some of his contacts, he said that in the last vision he had it seemed as though they might be in a military base,” Jack said. “That makes sense. We know he‟s getting some kind of clandestine government funding. I‟ve put out a few feelers in that direction myself.” Chris‟ voice was even gruffer than usual, worry for his brother‟s safety stealing some of his control. Megan sighed, “I still say we should have just ambushed those men, they could have told us everything we needed to know.” Jack wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer. “It‟s not a risk we could have taken, love. They were prepared for that. There‟s no way they would have come here without some kind of insurance.” “I know. God! I hate this! I thought it was all over when Nick came home.” Nick reached over and touched her hand. “It won‟t be over ‟til Robert Westford is dead.” Henry watched as the commando shoved the Englishman into an empty cage. The young man went quietly enough, turning to glare when Frank gave him a shove. Frank took a hasty step back and slammed the door shut and locked it tight. “Not such a bloody tough toff now, are you?” Frank taunted, grinning. Henry rolled his eyes and left him to it. He knocked on the professor‟s office door and entered when his employer called out permission. The man sat at his desk, lamplight reflecting off the lenses of his glasses as he looked up from his paperwork. In the middle of the room next to the exam chair was the golden panther. She was bloody and obviously unconscious. Several used vials and needles lay discarded in a tray on the workbench. Henry‟s brow creased in a frown before he wiped his expression clear. “Henry. I trust you brought my new subject with no trouble?” “Yes sir. He‟s locked up.” “Good. You can take her back to her cage for now. She just keeps repeating the same stupidity about magic and every time I get to the point where I think she might break, she changes. This is why they are no good to me once they pair off. Put any
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pressure on them and this is what happens. There‟s no such thing as magic—only genetic anomalies.” He curled his lip in disgust. Henry believed differently. If the girl said the shifters were magic then he had no doubt she was telling the truth. He had seen things in his life that could have no other explanation but there would be no convincing Westford of that. Even if he had been inclined to try. “When do you want me to take her back?” The professor compressed his lips and Henry kicked himself for asking. “It doesn‟t matter—she got me what I wanted. I‟ll start with the new one tomorrow. I might have another session in the lab with her before that and you can get rid of her afterwards.” Henry resisted the urge to look at the girl again. What will one more session do to her? he thought grimly. It seemed the lass had been right after all. “Yes sir.” Time ticked onward and outside Murray House the sky grew darker, snow beginning to fall. Gently at first, slowly covering the footprints in the lawn, and then harder ‟til the pine trees became just a shadow through the white curtain. Cold pressed through the windows of the conservatory and settled onto Nick‟s bare arms as he stood watching. In the reflection he could see Cam at the table sipping coffee and working on his laptop. Keeping himself busy by searching out military bases and looking for connections between them and Robert Westford. Nick‟s own computer sat opposite, abandoned when he had become too restless to concentrate. The wind picked up and the snow and ice, tossed them against the side windows and drove them to the ground with a determination that promised at least another good few inches of coverage. It reminded Nick of home and suddenly he longed to see his cabin again. There would be a couple of feet of snow there by now. The kind of weather that he could take his snowmobile out in for a few hours. Then spend the rest of the day working from home in front of the fire. Perhaps the next time he saw it he would have a mate to share it with. Would Abby join him racing through the hills, or would she be waiting for him warm and naked on a blanket by the fireplace? The phone on the table began to ring and shattered the image. He turned to watch Cam answer it. His friend stood and closed his eyes. “When?” Anger was evident in his face and Nick‟s heart began to hammer. Cam listened for another moment and then slid the phone closed. He picked up his coffee cup and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, spraying coffee from the ceiling to the floor. “Shit!” Nick‟s stomach felt as though it had plummeted to the floor, he braced himself. “What happened?” Drawn by the noise, the others crowded into the room as Chris answered. “They lost them.” He drove a trembling hand into his hair. “Either Ciaran and Ry were spotted or they just assumed they had a tail. Either way, they lost them in the middle of god damn nowhere—they‟ve searched but there‟s no sign. They‟re on their way back.”
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Cam put his hand on Chris‟ shoulder. “Now what?” Once again the phone rang and for a moment everyone stared at it like it was a rattlesnake poised to strike. This time Nick answered it since Chris made no move to do so. “Mr. Douglass, we‟ve never been introduced. My name is Henry.” Nick recognized the voice of the big Scotsman who‟d picked up Jon. His voice was calm but there was an edge to it. “What do you want?” He put the phone on speaker again so that the others could hear. “I‟m a straightforward man, Mr. Douglass. I do what I‟m paid to do and I keep my mouth shut. There isn‟t much I won‟t do if the price is right but Professor Westford has crossed a line I find I cannae. You don‟t fuck with your own family.” He was silent for a moment and Nick waited, hope fluttering back to life. “I think it‟s time for me to retire. I‟m sorry I had to shake off your friends when they were following me earlier but I needed to deliver him to the professor as planned. If I don‟t carry on with Westford‟s plans, he will kill the girl. I can help you get your friend and your lassie back and all I ask is that you let me walk away at the end. Don‟t try to dig anything up on me, don‟t try to find me.” One at a time Nick met the eyes of Cam, Chris and Jack and saw his hope echoed there. “Agreed.”
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Chapter Fourteen Wake up. Abby groaned and tried to figure out what had dragged her from dreams of her mate. Awareness came slowly. Her brain felt sluggish, head filled with cotton wool. She knew she shouldn‟t move, that it would be painful if she did, but in the moment between sleep and awareness she couldn‟t, or didn‟t want to, remember why. WAKE UP. She opened her eyes, remembering as she did that she had shifted again. The cat had taken over when the drugs and the pain from her uncle‟s beating became too much. To her surprise she didn‟t hurt as much as she expected. She had seen her mate heal quickly from the damage inflicted on him by her uncle. At least, at first. But she‟d never thought about the same being true for her. Now she had a new respect for everything Nick had undergone at the professor‟s hands. She had told her uncle everything he wanted to know and guilt overwhelmed her. Abby would never forgive herself if she put others at more risk. The guilt is mine. This time the voice registered and she turned towards the leopard at the other side of the room. It was the only one of the cats her uncle had kept at the lab and in the past he had always kept it isolated. The few times Abby had seen it, the cat had never spoken to her, though as with other animals, she sometimes felt the cat‟s emotions. Abby had been convinced it was an ordinary leopard since nothing about it had suggested otherwise. She closed her eyes and concentrated on projecting her thoughts. What guilt? Please, just listen! I don’t have much time. My cat is very strong and it’s been so long…she won’t let me hold her back for much longer. Abby felt the woman‟s overwhelming sadness, hopelessness. My name is Theresa Chalmers. I was the first. I thought I loved Robert Westford, that he loved me. He wasn’t my fìor cèile but to find that is rare and I believed we would be happy. So I told him. At first he mocked me but when I initiated the Ceangal to give him proof Robert flew into a rage, called me an animal, locked me up. He refused to complete the mating bond with me and I began to change more and more often. I was desperate, terrified of becoming no more than what he accused me of. Within a couple of weeks I was barely ever in my human shape anymore. The cat was taking control more and more often. I thought I could convince him we were more than just animals, so I told him where to find others, told him to talk to them, see what a wonderful thing it could be. That’s when he decided to start his research. He says he still loves me, that
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when his work is finished he’ll be able to return me to my “normal” self. I don’t know if I’d want that even if it were possible. I deserve this and worse for betraying my kind. It’s almost funny—one of the things I loved about Robert was that he was a man of science. Yet it’s his single-minded belief that science can explain everything that has prevented him from figuring out our secrets. I actually told him about the blood before I changed for that last time but he took it to mean that blood from the shifter would infect someone. He can’t see why the exchange has to be mutual to let the magic link them. Robert will never believe in magic. Abby felt Theresa‟s struggle as the cat began to claim dominance over her again. The leopard rose from her haunches and began to pace, fur twitching in agitation. Theresa‟s words came faster. There is a thumb drive he keeps on his person at all times. It has all his work on it, including the names of the people I gave him and those he found on his own. It’s the only copy he keeps— everything else is destroyed when he has finished with it. When your fìor cèile comes for you, make sure that drive is destroyed too. Stop him. Their eyes met and Theresa‟s sorrow overwhelmed her, bringing the salt-sting of tears to Abby‟s eyes. I’ll get you out of here. It would be nice to run, feel the earth beneath my feet and the wind on my face. Abby saw the wildness of the animal flood her eyes. Tell them I’m sorry. The leopard let out a snarling roar and resumed pacing, anger her only emotion. Movement to her left caught Abby‟s eye and she turned to see someone sit up and stretch. He turned towards her and her heart sank as she recognized Jonathon, Nick‟s friend. He was dressed in a set of thin light-blue scrubs, face stubbled with morning beard. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the room, face clouding with sadness as he watched the angry leopard pace for a moment. He turned towards her and she felt his excitement wash over her. “Abby?” Jon! His eyes widened as he heard her voice in his head was awestruck. “Holy shit! How did you do that? I‟ve never…I thought that only worked when you mated and shifted.” She growled low in warning. It’s a long story. The ability is my own. Be careful what you say, there’s surveillance. “Can you shift?” he asked. Yes. He turned away as she concentrated on her human body. The transformation rolled over her and she stretched out her limbs letting them settle into their more accustomed shape. When it was over, she quickly dressed in her own scrubs. The cage wasn‟t tall enough for her to stand straight so she crawled to the side nearest Jon. “How did you get here?”
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He moved to the side of his own cage, so that only a few feet separated them and ran a hand through his messy hair. He looked deceptively young, though she knew he was around the same age as she was. “We made a deal with your, um, the professor. Me in exchange for your return.” “Oh no!” She clutched at the cage bars. “Why?” “Because you are the fìor cèile of one of my best friends and I would do anything to help him. Besides, I had to make amends. It‟s partly my fault you‟re here.” She tried to protest and he interrupted her. For the first time she saw in his eyes the steel that so far had been concealed by humor. “I was just as responsible for making you feel unwelcome as the rest of them. I‟m here of my own accord—now be quiet and say thank you.” She closed her eyes, feeling undeserving of such a sacrifice. “Thank you.” “You‟re welcome. Now don‟t forget to come back for me when you get out of here, I keep hearing about how bad it is. I‟d rather not be here for as long as Nick in case I lose my sense of humor like he has.” He smiled at her and she forced herself to return it. They reached between the bars and clasped hands. “It‟s a deal,” she whispered. The door behind them opened and they let go of each other, turning to watch Henry and Frank come into the room. “Good morning, ladies!” Frank said mockingly. Abby saw Henry roll his eyes behind the younger man‟s back as he leaned against the wall beside the door. Frank was once again dressed all in black but the lab coat he had worn when she arrived was missing this time. He stopped in front of her cage and let his eyes run over her in a way that made her wish for a shower. “Such a shame we never got to spend any time together. Maybe next time, eh?” Abby looked at him, letting the cat rise to the surface enough that she knew he could see it in her eyes. “A shame? Yes. I‟d have liked another chance to bite off your dick.” She let the low growl rumble forth, saw him take a step back and smiled slightly. He turned to Jon, but before he could say anything Robert Westford marched into the room, bringing with him an air of impatience. Theresa let out another roar of anger and threw herself at the bars of her cage behind him but he didn‟t react. Abby‟s heart broke for the other woman. “Abigail.” “Professor.” She saw annoyance flash in his eyes. “Your parents would be so disappointed.” He frowned. “I don‟t think so. I think they would be proud of me. They always taught me to stand up for what was right. It‟s a shame they didn‟t see you for the evil creature that you were.” He narrowed his eyes and taunted, “Funny, that‟s what your mother said before she joined your father at the bottom of the ocean.”
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Abby‟s whole body went cold. She couldn‟t breathe and the world went gray at the edges for a moment as the implication of his words sank in. “You did kill them.” “Of course I did. Stupid girl. I needed the money, the family name, to get support for my project. I had planned for you to be with them. You should be grateful. When I realized you had the same birthmark as I did I knew you needed to be part of my study. It was easy enough to have them followed and sink the boat. Then it was just a matter of helping the ocean with its work.” Her first clenched, muscles rigid as she fought the rage that made her feline rush to the surface, pushing at the walls in her mind, prickling her skin with the urge to shift and tear him apart. “You bastard!” Tears of fury sprang to her eyes and her body trembled with the power of her feelings. How long had it taken them to drown? Had they thought of her as they died? Known that they had left their daughter with the person who killed them? “Such language. Surely I raised you better than that.” He scowled at her. “I had thought we‟d have one more session together this morning but having slept on it I‟ve decided to move on to fresher data.” “I will make you pay for this,” she promised in a voice dripping with venom. He walked to Jon‟s cage, dismissing her in a way that was all too familiar. “You can‟t seem to control yourself anymore. What a waste. Years of planning and you ruin it. They‟ve turned you into nothing more than an animal.” Jon met the professor‟s reptilian stare with an equally cold one and Abby was afraid for him. “Henry, you can take her away now. Frank, get the lab ready.” “Yes, professor.” He left without looking at her. She was as invisible to him again. Just as she always was until he wanted to use her for his own purposes. Frank skirted around her cage with a pleasing distance as he walked out. “So, lass, as the cliché goes, are we going to do this the hard way? Or the easy way?” Henry drew out his gun and raised a sardonic eyebrow, displaying more feeling than she had ever seen from him. She looked at Jon and he smiled at her. “Go on. I‟ll see you soon.” She nodded, unable to speak. Throat tight with emotion, anger frozen into cold concentration. She would get them all out of this. Henry unlocked the door and she followed him out, casting a last look at Theresa who sat, still and silent, watching her. I promise. It seemed to take an eternity to get back to the surface and Abby concentrated on memorizing every detail she could. Her guard had returned to his usual stoic silence as he escorted her into the lift. When they emerged into the warehouse the cold air made goose bumps rise on her arms and she remembered she was barefoot. The concrete
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beneath her feet was so cold it was painful but in comparison to what she had suffered at her uncle‟s hands it was nothing. She kept her face as blank as Henry‟s and headed to the white van parked in the center, stopping while he opened the back doors. She climbed into the cage, wrapped the blanket she found there around herself and locked the door. The big man caught the keys she threw back to him and slammed the doors shut. A moment later the van rumbled to life. This time she paid attention as it rounded corners, trying to memorize them. Her concentration was shattered when maybe ten minutes later the road surface changed and the van started bouncing and jolting through potholes. They were off the main road. Her heart thudded with fear at the implications. Was her uncle going to get rid of her after all? He had done many despicable things but she knew he prided himself on never breaking his word. They jerked to a halt and she fell against the bars, cursing. Moments later the doors opened and watery light flooded the van. Abby blinked against it. The main road was hidden by trees and bushes but there were fresh tracks on this road that suggested it had been used by several vehicles recently. All she could glimpse in either direction was snow. Where the heck were they? Without a word Henry unlocked the cage and dropped her jacket, a pair of snow boots and the bag she had left in Edinburgh inside the door. He pocketed the keys again and disappeared from view. Teeth chattering she dressed quickly and jumped out onto the muddy snow. She rounded the side of the van and found him leaning there. “Let‟s go.” He started walking up the road past the van, long legs easily striding through the snow while she struggled to keep up. “Where are we going?” she demanded. There was no way she was going to meekly follow him to her doom. He turned, impatience in every line of his body, but movement ahead caught her eye. For a moment Abby wasn‟t sure what she was seeing and then it resolved itself into a group wearing white-and-gray camouflage suits. As they stepped closer one of them threw back his hood and she recognized her mate. Abby ran towards him, stumbling and sliding on the slick road, ignoring Henry in her headlong rush to get to her mate. Forgetting all the reasons she had left him, needing only to be with Nick again. When he caught her in his arms she felt some empty place in her soul fill up. Their lips met, his warmth, his scent wrapped around her and she felt the touch of his mind to hers. Fìor cèile. Nick speared his hands into her messy hair and their lips met in a hungry, thankful kiss. Joy and affection blazing through the Ceangal and melded them back together again. How could she have walked away from this? “I thought I‟d lost you,” Nick whispered. Thank God, Abby. His big frame trembled against her and she pulled him closer. Would have climbed inside him if she could have found a way and she knew that he felt the same.
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“Abby.” He ran his hands over her body, searching for injuries. “Are you all right?” “I‟m fine,” she reassured him. He stroked his thumb over a healing cut on her cheek. “No, you‟re not. He hurt you.” His anger showed through their bond. “My god, what were you thinking!” “I was thinking your friends were right not to trust me.” Hot tears tracked down her cheeks. “My presence there made them targets. I was thinking I had to protect you. You mean everything to me, Nick, and my uncle will never stop until he gets what he wants.” “What he wants doesn‟t exist,” Nick said. “There‟s no way to change someone who isn‟t genetically compatible with us.” “I know that. But he doesn‟t believe it. He‟ll just keep coming back unless we can find a way to convince him.” “What made you think you could be the one to do that?” He shook her gently. “Alone? We need to do this together, sweetheart. I‟m not a helpless prisoner anymore. Even without the help of my friends I have resources you couldn‟t ever hope to access.” Abby hung her head. He was right. “I‟m sorry, Nick.” He drew her back into his embrace and wiped the tears from her face with his fingers. “Don‟t be sorry, just don‟t ever leave me like that again. I of all people know how hard it is, but I need you to trust me.” Someone cleared their throat behind them and abruptly she remembered her captor. Nick pushed her behind him and the two men faced each other. “This is all very nice, but do you think we could get on with this, lads? I have places to be,” he interrupted sarcastically. The rest of the group stepped forward and Abby recognized Ciaran, Jack, Rianne, Fynn and Chris. They were covered from head to foot and looked to be well armed. Abby was intimidated and she knew they wouldn‟t hurt her. Even if it was only because she belonged to Nick. How Henry could stand there so casually, alone, she didn‟t know. He reached for his pockets and she felt the others‟ tension ratchet up a notch. Henry must have felt it as well because he froze. “Slowly,” Nick said. “No problem, mate. I meant what I said on the phone. I am armed but I‟ll be damned if I‟ll give you my gun. It‟s in a holster inside my jacket. I have an entry card in my pocket.” “Two fingers only.” Abby watched in amazement as Henry did as Nick asked and drew out the plastic card he had used in the lift. He passed it over to her mate who nodded his thanks. Before turning slightly and showing it to her. “Abby?” “It‟s what he said it is. It operates the elevator and I don‟t know what else.” Puzzled, she listened as Henry described the route to get to the professor‟s new base as
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well as the general layout. She felt as though she had walked through the looking glass and nothing was making sense. “Right, Mr. Douglass, I‟ve upheld my end of the deal. Now it‟s time to keep yours.” “You‟re free to go.” Nick canted his head to one side. “We won‟t look for you but if our paths cross again…” “Oh, you‟ve no worries on that account, lad. I plan to find me a nice beach somewhere and get a tan. That‟s me done. Think I‟m getting soft in my old age and that can be fatal in my line of work.” Henry turned, hesitated and turned back. “One more thing. The real reason he let the girl go is that he thinks he can find her again whenever he wants to. She has a bug implanted in her abdomen. He doesn‟t know that she knows that. You might want to take care of it.” He nodded at Abby and walked away. Moments later the van started up and backed out of sight, engine fading into the distance. Chris‟ gravelly voice broke the silence. “Right, let‟s go and finish this once and for all, shall we?”
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Chapter Fifteen “Jonathon Pembroke.” Robert looked over the young man sitting in his exam chair. “Or is it Lord Pembroke now? It‟s rumored that your brother is dead.” “Christopher is alive and well, thank you for asking.” It was petty of him but he couldn‟t help but provoke Pembroke a little. He didn‟t usually lower himself to talk with his specimens but in this case… “I see. So is he living in a cage on the family grounds then? I understand his wife was killed.” Robert shook his head sadly. “That never works out well for your kind.” Jonathon glared at him but said nothing. “I know your parents—your father is a thorn in my side. It will be a pleasure when I can finally stand up in the House of Lords and call him the animal he is. It‟s a disgrace that he is allowed to walk those halls as an equal when I know that he is nothing more than a beast.” Anger rose in the younger man‟s eyes. “My father is twice the man you will ever be. One day very soon you‟ll regret those words.” “We shall see.” Abruptly tired of the conversation he turned to pick up the syringe from the tray behind him. “Let‟s get on with this.” “Why are you doing this?” “Don‟t play with me, Mr. Pembroke, you know exactly what I want.” He drew a sample of blood from the young man‟s arm with brisk, efficient movements before picking up the second capped syringe. “This is a new drug combination I developed with the help of your friend. It worked very well on him, although I did have the help of my treacherous niece. I thought I‟d see if it worked as efficiently to bring on the change without the presence of a female.” This time there was real fear in Pembroke‟s eyes and Robert smiled. “Not quite so cocky now, eh? Perhaps when you‟ve changed I‟ll give you back to your father and he can lock you up with your brother.” “How about you just give him to me now?” Robert whirled to face the ruined voice from the doorway. The man was dressed all in snow camouflage and carried a rifle. As Robert watched, he pushed back his hood and revealed a face which put equal amounts of trepidation and excitement into Robert‟s heart. He was still recognizable as Lord Christopher Pembroke but the feline characteristics were unmistakable. The syringe was dropped, forgotten. How could this be? Had someone succeeded where he had failed? “How?” The other man‟s face was hard and cold. “An answer to a question you‟re never going to get.” He gestured to the chair with the rifle. “Untie him.”
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Robert snapped out of his daze and reached behind him to retrieve his handgun from the drawer and hit the panic button there. Alarms started to blare and he pointed the gun at Jonathon. “I don‟t think so. How did you get in here?” Nick Douglass appeared at the other man‟s side. “Right in your front door. Seems like you used to have better surroundings than this, doc. You‟ve gone down in the world.” Robert kept his face blank as the barb struck home. “This is only temporary. I still have powerful friends. Even now a new facility is under construction.” Nick gave a humorless laugh. “That may be, professor, but you won‟t be using it. This ends right now. If you‟re stalling for time you can forget about it. We have what‟s left of your staff on the run.” There was no reason to believe they were lying—there should have been some response to the alarm by now. Robert Westford was not a stupid man. He was outnumbered and the very nature of this facility gave him limited avenues for escape. If he carried out the threat and killed Jonathon Pembroke then he would also be killed. Giving up was his best option. They would lock him up somewhere and he could use his connections to escape. It would be unpleasant but only for as long as it took to set things in motion. He set the gun to one side and took a step away from the examination chair, hands in the air. Nick watched Westford step to one side, surrendering his weapon. Chris untied Jon and the two shared a quick, relieved embrace. Chris bent to pick up the drug, putting it cautiously in his pocket. “Just in time, you two. I really didn‟t want whatever is in that syringe,” he said. A large part of Nick longed to beat the smug expression from the professor‟s face and it was really hard not to do it. His cat raged at the surface of his mind, wanting nothing more than revenge. Eroding his self-control, but there was someone else who deserved the privilege even more than he did. Nick searched him, emptying the man‟s pockets. He found the thumb drive Abby had told him about in the inside pocket of Westford‟s suit coat. At last, the old man‟s face clouded with rage and Nick smiled triumphantly at him. “Oh. That‟s gotta hurt. Life‟s work, gone. Just like that.” “Nothing I can‟t recreate. You can‟t stop science, Mr. Douglass,” Westford said defiantly. Across the hallway a leopard called out with increasing urgency. Nick gripped the professor‟s arm and urged him out the door behind his friends. “It‟s not science I want to stop, professor, just you.” A gunshot split the air, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. Unsure where the shot had come from, Nick ducked instinctively behind the wall. The old man tore out of his grasp and dropped with him. Chris crashed into the doorjamb and Jon crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. Chris roared and moved more quickly than even Nick 103
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had believed possible towards the room opposite. Another shot rang out, this one muffled since Nick‟s ears were still ringing from the first. A terrified scream was cut short and everything stopped. Nick scrambled forward and tore off his jacket, pressing it to the wound on Jon‟s head, relieved to feel his friend‟s pulse still beating strongly beneath his fingers. He turned to Westford, a command to stay where he was ready on his lips but the professor was beyond hearing it. The second bullet had passed through the door Westford had taken shelter behind. Robert Westford lay utterly still, a crimson stain spreading beneath him. God dammit. Bells still chimed in his ears and it made Nick feel strangely disconnected. Chris appeared at his side, blood on his hands and tears in his eyes. “Is Jon…?” He stopped abruptly, unable to say the word. Nick clutched his arm. “No! He‟s alive, I think it just grazed him.” “Oh god. Thank god.” Chris squeezed his eyes shut and the tears brimmed over. “He pushed me out of the way, Nick. Bloody idiot!” “I know, always was a selfless ass. Come on, we need to get him out of here, he‟s bleeding.” “I‟ll take him, you get Westford.” Nick bent to check the old man‟s neck. “No need. The professor‟s run his last experiment.” Nick felt cheated that the old bastard would get such an easy exit. “There‟s someone else I need to see to, though. No one should stay in this place a minute longer than necessary.” Next door, the cat continued to call out. Chris‟ eyes met his own and there was a world of understanding there. Chris lifted his brother into his arms, striding towards the elevator. Nick followed the cries of the leopard, stepping around the bloodied, barely recognizable body of the gunman. Ironically, it was the old man‟s favorite lab rat, Frank. Nick remembered the beatings he‟d received at his hands and resisted the urge to spit on him on the way past. The room held several empty cages but in one farthest away, the big cat roared its anger. Nick felt nothing of the cat‟s human half as he approached slowly. She was wild, unpredictable. He met her defiant eyes with his, allowed his cat to surface and stared the other animal down. Letting her feel him out. He snarled at her and gave a low rumbling growl. Eventually her eyes dropped as she acknowledged his dominance. She quieted and sat, tail twitching. “Theresa? Can you hear me?” She didn‟t reply but he thought he saw some sense of recognition swimming through her eyes. Keeping his gaze firmly on hers, he walked closer to the bars. “I‟m here to get you out. He can‟t hurt you anymore, Theresa, he‟s dead.” She watched him silently and he put his hand through the bars. Theresa stretched in that decadent way that only cats can accomplish. Body a sleek line from whiskers to paws as she flicked off her tension with one last twitch of her tail. She nudged his hand and walked to the door of the cage and Nick smiled. A throat cleared behind him and he whipped around to see Fynn in the doorway. Theresa snarled at the other man and Fynn answered her with a snarl of his own. The aggression emanating from both of them made Nick‟s hair prickle on the back
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of his neck. Nick tensed but Theresa merely turned away and nudged at the door again. Fynn narrowed his glacial eyes. “What a bitch.” He quirked his lips at Nick. “New friend?” Nick snorted and relaxed again, reaching to unlock the cage. Fynn could take care of himself. When they reached the surface Jack and Ciaran were waiting with the two SUVs. Nick kept walking out of the warehouse. Outside the snow had once again begun to fall. Its bitter-cold curtain of white added to Nick‟s feeling of surreality. He watched as the flakes fell soft and pure over the tracks of their vehicles, obliterating up the evidence of their visit. He couldn‟t quite believe it was over. There was a brief battle of wills as Fynn opened the back door of one of the SUVs to let Theresa climb in. The other vehicle pulled up beside him and Jack rolled down the driver-side window. “The others have gone on ahead with Jon. Ready to go?” “Westford is dead,” Nick said. “I know.” “I wanted to hurt him, Jack. Force him to tell us the names of every person he hurt Make him suffer whether he told us or not.” “Me too, bro.” “Before he took me, I‟d never have believed I could feel like that about another person. That I‟d be capable of following through with it. He put that in me.” Jack was silent a moment as the world settled around them. “Hate does terrible things, Nick, and if there‟s one thing Robert Westford was good at, it was inspiring hate in people. The question is can you let it go now? Or will you let it poison the good that‟s come from this?” Nick let his brother‟s words sink in, thinking of his new sister-in-law and the way she had made his Jack embrace his animal side. He thought of Jayne and how she made Cameron smile, at peace at last. Then there was Abby, who kept him sane when he thought all was lost. He shook his head, turned away from the desolate landscape and climbed into the passenger seat. “Fynn and Ciaran are doing the cleanup?” “Yes,” Jack assured him. “Then what are we doing still here, Jack? Let‟s go.” Jack drove quickly and silently but for occasional cursing at people who didn‟t know how to handle a vehicle in the snow. Worry for their friend made them both tense. Nick knew they had taken Jon to the small private hospital just outside Corriemuchter, near Murray House. The hospital was small but better equipped than most larger ones, largely thanks to the various people in the shapeshifter community whom it treated. It had been Cam‟s father who had come up with the idea and Nick had never been more grateful for it. They needn‟t worry about what to tell the staff who worked there or what they might tell others. They were all members of the community
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and had the specialized knowledge needed to treat one of their own, as well as more mundane medical knowledge. Jon was in good hands. They were almost home when his new phone rang. He checked the caller ID as he answered. “Chris, how is he?” His friend took a shuddering breath and Nick‟s heart stopped only to shudder to life again with his friend‟s next words. “He‟s stable. He woke up but they gave him something to make him sleep.” “Oh thank fuck.” Chris cleared his throat. “Nick…” Chris fell silent again and Nick braced himself, Chris was the most straightforward man he knew and if he couldn‟t get the words out… “He‟s blind.” “What! How? God, Chris…talk to me, man…” He felt his brother‟s eyes on him and held up his hand. “He‟s going for an MRI scan. They think the swelling might have damaged his optic nerves.” “But they can fix it, right?” Nick asked. “No. They say there‟s a very small chance he might regain some sight but it‟s unlikely.” He heard Chris‟ voice thicken with emotion. “If he could shift, it might heal him…” “But he‟s too young to enter the mating cycle,” Nick said, sorrow in his own voice. “Yes.” “So we use Professor Westford‟s drug. The old man brought my cycle on faster, there‟s no reason it wouldn‟t work on Jon. We can find him a mate.” “He won‟t mate for anything other than love—he‟s been saying it for years. You know how stubborn my brother can be.” Nick scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I know, man, but this might change his mind.” Chris audibly pulled himself together. “Well, we‟ll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings.” “Do you want us to come?” “No, go home to Abby. There‟s nothing you can do here. I‟ll see you tomorrow.” He hung up and Nick lay back against the seat, cursing fate. Wasn‟t it time for life to be easy for a change? Murray House shone a warm, inviting glow into the gloomy afternoon, postcard pretty in the snow-covered forest. The SUV slid a little as his brother jerked it to a halt and Jack threw him an apologetic look. The front door opened as he was climbing the 106
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steps and his fìor cèile opened her arms to him. Nick‟s head still spun with the events of the day—hell, the year. How long it would be ‟til he stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop? He knew it had changed him, could see it in the way his brother and his friends treated him. But he couldn‟t wish it hadn‟t happened. Well, okay, maybe he could have done without the torture part but it had brought him the woman in his arms. Nick breathed in her scent. “Abby, my fìor cèile.” The marks on her face were almost invisible now and he wondered if Jayne and Megan had encouraged her to shift again after bringing her home. Jack brushed past them to join the voices he could hear from the back of the house and left them standing alone in the hallway. The ticking of the grandfather clock at the foot of the stairs was loud in the silence. “Is he dead?” “Yes, I‟m sorry, Abby.” “And Theresa?” “Fynn is going to take her to the Pembroke estate. Chris still has facilities there from when he needed them himself. She‟ll be safe there until we can help her to find her way back.” “He killed my parents.” The words seemed to thaw out the emotions that she had long suppressed. Without warning she began to cry, tears soaking Nick‟s jersey. He stroked her hair and soothed her until the storm had passed. “I‟m not sorry he‟s dead.” She laid her head on his chest and echoed his earlier thoughts. “The only good thing that man ever did was bring us together and even then he tainted it with greed and pain.” “Then we concentrate on wiping that stain off from now on. Don‟t let him have any more power over us. He‟s gone.” She lifted her head and their eyes met. “You‟re right,” she agreed, “I‟m glad you‟re okay, I‟m so happy to be back here in your arms.” Abby stroked her fingers over the rough stubble on his chin. “I love you, Nick. Fìor cèile. There is nowhere I‟d rather be now than right here.” Nick smiled at her as her words washed over him, bringing a warmth and contentment he had never felt before. She was amazing, his mate. Some might call her plain, some may say she was shy. But he knew she was beautiful. Her eyes the rich, deep brown of the earth with flashes of bright gold buried there. Hair soft and thick and shot through with that same gold. She was fierce and brave and would fight ‟til the death for the things she loved. Nick had given her his trust and his heart when he thought he had nothing left to give. Magic had brought them together, not fear and greed and pain. “I love you too.” He leaned forward to brush her nose with his. “But I can think of somewhere else I‟d rather be.”
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He swung her over his shoulder, ignoring her protests. “Nick! Put me down, you idiot! You need to rest, you shouldn‟t even have been with those guys.” “Is that so?” She squealed and laughed as he started up the stairs, digging her hands into his ass. “Where the heck are you taking me?” she asked. “To my lair, to have my wicked way with you.” He kicked the door of the bedroom shut behind him and dropped her on the bed with an exaggerated groan. “Okay, maybe I do need a few more days,” he said. Truthfully, he was almost healed. The completion of the Ceangal had taken care of most of his physical wounds. He just needed to gain back the weight he had lost. He was more than willing to let her play nursemaid if she wanted though. He knew his mate had heard at least part of his thoughts and leered at her. “Yeah, right.” She laughed. “So…now that you‟ve got me here, what are you going to do with me?” Abby gave him a sultry once-over that made his cock perk up in the confines of his pants. It made him glad for once that they were too big for him. She made him forget that his body was no longer perfect, that he was scarred, skinny, pale. That his once expensively styled hair was still growing back. He drew his brows down and gave her a stern look. “First I‟m going to watch you strip,” he said. She smirked and sat up, stripping her sweater off to reveal a lacy white bra. The dusky pink of her nipples peaked teasingly at him through the fabric. She lay back and lifted her hips to push down her jeans, revealing matching panties. When she kicked off the jeans he noticed that her feet were bare, her toes painted a delicate pink. It was the most feminine he had ever seen her appear and it looked amazing on her. Though he had to admit, he loved her when she dressed as she usually did in her sensible, plain, shapeless clothes. It meant no one but he knew what was underneath them. If that made him selfish then so be it. Nick felt like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes popped out of their heads and their tongues unrolled before steam blew the tops of their heads off. He couldn‟t utter a sound. She slowly ran her fingertips from the mound of her pussy over her belly to her breasts, arching her back into the touch. “You like?” “Uh…” “What‟s the matter, Nick? Cat got your tongue?” She giggled and the pleasure in the sound snapped him out of his trance. If sexy underwear made her feel happy then he could be selfless and let her get a few more things. “Wow. You look…hot, sexy, beautiful… Stunning,” he said. He undressed quickly, fingers fumbling over buttons and zippers. Cursing at the laces on his boots. She watched him, eyes hot and a curve of amusement on her lips. He kicked the last of the offending garments to the floor and stood over her.
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“Mine.” The word came to his lips before he even gave it thought, a statement of intent, possession, which came from both animal and man. He bent to pick up his leather belt and pulled the satin belt from her robe from where it lay over the end of the bed. Abby watched him warily. He climbed onto the mattress and she lay back in silent submission, face filled with nervous excitement. “What are you going to do?” He took one of her hands in his, turning it to kiss the inside of her wrist. “I‟m going to show you that you belong to me.” He secured her wrist to the iron bedpost before repeating the process with her other hand. She pulled against them, testing their strength and giving him her best pout. “Now I can‟t touch you.” “But I can touch you.” He leaned down, tasting strawberry lip gloss as he claimed her mouth for his own. “Mmmmm.” When he lifted his head her cheeks were flushed pink, lips kiss swollen. Nick brushed his cheek against her and she leaned into the touch. He followed the delicate blush of pink down her throat to her breasts and tongued them through the lace. Abby‟s breath shuddered out and she arched her back, seeking more. The front fastening of her bra yielded to his shaking fingers and her breasts spilled into his waiting hands. He brushed the rosy nipples with his thumbs and she moaned. She painted such a wanton picture. Head tossing against the pillows, tousling her hair, holding on to the straps binding her. Nick thought he had never seen a more glorious sight. He slid off her panties, wincing when the frothy material ripped in his grasp. “I always thought those romance novels were lying. Never thought someone would actually rip my knickers off.” Abby giggled. She hooked her leg around his waist and he took advantage of the exposed flesh and slapped the side of her butt. “Quiet, wench!” Her head came off the pillow and he stifled her cry with his hand. “You don‟t want the rest of the house to hear us, now, do you?” The widening of her pupils told him that at least part of her liked the idea. Nick was curious to see which part would win. He lifted his hand from her mouth. “Not a sound.” The laughter bled from her eyes when he dipped his head to trace the lines of her body with his tongue. He passed by the scar of her appendectomy, not wanting to remind her of the bug her uncle had planted there. She opened her legs and he settled between them. The rich scent of her arousal made his pulse race, his cock painfully hard and his mouth water to taste her. He gave in to the desire and kissed the scar where the mating mark had once been, then the mound of her pussy. Parting her labia, he touched his tongue to her clitoris, swirling around it while she gasped. He sucked it and her hips
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came off the bed and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, biting back a cry. Nick teased the sensitive bundle of nerves until she thrashed beneath him, straining against her bonds. “Oh god. Please, Nick, please,” she whispered, breathlessly. Moisture flooded from her, bathing his lips and chin. Nick pushed two fingers inside her and she thrust into his penetration. A surprised cry burst from her as she came. He held her steady until she fell over the peak while his dick throbbed, trapped between his abdomen and the bed. As he withdrew his fingers her pussy clutched at him and she gave a shuddering sigh. He eyes met his and she licked her lips. She pulled at the belts, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. Through their link an image flashed into his mind and Nick groaned. His hips moved helplessly against the bed before he could stop it. Echoing the scene she had sent him, he moved up her body until he straddled her chest, weight on his knees. She lifted her head and he guided his shaft to her waiting mouth. At the first hot, wet swirl of her tongue he almost came. Gritting his teeth, he pressed forward slowly, wary of hurting her. He pulled back as she sucked his cock. Nick‟s head spun and he had to lean forward to support himself against the head of the bed. He thrust again and this time as he reached the back of her throat she swallowed. “Oh my sweet fucking…” The words trailed off into a strangled groan as he withdrew against the hard suction. Abby moaned, body moving restlessly beneath him. Faster. Gladly. He followed her instruction, mindlessly chasing the orgasm gathering heavy in his balls. His heart beat loudly in his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut as his body took over. Give it to me, Nick. Come for me. Give yourself to me. Abby‟s voice whispered into his head in time with his pulse and he gave himself over to it. With a shuddering groan he came, jets of semen pulsing against her tongue. She swallowed it down, licking the remainder of his seed from his shaft as he withdrew. His hands shook as he freed her and fell onto his back beside her. She crawled on top of him and kissed him, letting him taste the bitter evidence of his release. His cock throbbed, still hard against her buttocks. Nick flipped them over and entered her from behind in one thrust. Their fingers linked against the sheets, hands supporting their weight as they moved together, bodies slippery with sweat. Abby turned her head and their lips met in a searing kiss. The room filled with the scent of their lovemaking. The sound of flesh against flesh and their soft moans the only sound. Their voices grew more urgent, Nick‟s thrusts grew harder, more desperate. “You‟re mine, Abby.” “Yes.” “Never leave me again. Please… I couldn‟t bear it.” “I‟m sorry, Nick. Never again.”
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Abby‟s fingers tightened on his as he felt the beginning of her climax. She cried out and her pussy clutched tightly at his dick. The clench of her internal muscles milked his own climax from him and he pulled her tight against him, pushing as deep into her body as he could. They collapsed together into the bed, Nick‟s softening cock slipped out of her and they turned into each other‟s embrace. Nick kissed her gently. “Fìor cèile, I love you.” “I love you too.” She stroked her hands over his buttocks, drawing a soft purr from him. She smiled wickedly. “So, do you think when the professor‟s drugs wear off you‟ll be able to keep up with me?” Nick laughed and grasped her tighter, spanking her once when she dug her nails in a bit too hard. “Trust me, my love.” The End
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About the Author Cait Miller lives on the West Coast of Scotland in the same small town where she was born. She shares her home near the beach with a large collection of dragons and two miniature Yorkshire Terriers. Cait dreams one day of living in a castle filled with history…or at least a house with a library. Books and writing have played a huge part in Cait‟s life since she was very young. Encouraged by a mother with similar interests and one of the world‟s greatest English teachers, she began writing her own stories. Unfortunately she inherited a practical side to her nature from her grannie—who once told her at a party, in front of her teenage friends, to cross her legs, not her fingers. Cait went on to become one of the first people in her family to graduate from university, where she trained for a medical profession. Writing became something she did for her own pleasure, never dreaming it could be anything else. Then, one day, she showed one of those stories to a group of online friends who taught her to Believe in the Magic… If you‟re ever looking for Cait, you only have to find the nearest quiet corner and she‟ll be there, book or pen in hand, wrapped up in another world. Cait welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at
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Also by Cait Miller Shifting Magic 1: Believe in the Magic Shifting Magic 2: Finding the Magic
Print books by Cait Miller Finding the Magic Stray Magic anthology
Discover for yourself why readers can‟t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora‟s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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