Bengal's Heart

◆ CHAPTER 3 ◆

EIGHTEEN HOURS LATER

Cassa was beginning to learn to hate the dark, and as she crashed down the mountain she was cursing her own lack of foresight in not having taken one of those nifty little scent blocker pills. Of course, she was on foot. The tangle of brambles and trees in this part of the forest was too thick for her Jeep to make it through.

Slapping at the vines as she crashed through them, she cursed herself, the Breeds and whoever the bastards were chasing her down the mountain.

She had a feeling that if they were Breeds, then they weren’t the friendly sort. She’d gotten an inkling when her attacker had jumped from a broken cliff above her position and snarled in a less than friendly manner.

The curved canines were her first clue that she was in trouble. The Coyote Breeds had curved canines, and for the most part, if they were chasing her now, then they definitely were not the friendly sort.

She heard a low, vicious growl behind her. The sound of it sent her heart rate spiking and her legs attempting to pump faster. She stumbled and rolled down a steep incline before gaining her feet once again.

This was insane. Coming here at night rather than waiting until morning. She’d been too impatient. The trip to West Virginia had been a nightmare to begin with. A flat tire, then a traffic jam along the interstate that had lasted long enough for her to take a long nap, due to the tanker that had collided with a guardrail before slamming into the face of a mountain.

She’d arrived in Glen Ferris just after dark and had taken the time to do nothing more than check into a hotel before setting her personal GPS with the coordinates that had been sent in the email. After dark.

Her father had warned her before his death that she was going to end up racing into more trouble than she could get out of one of these days. She was certain she had finally met up with that day.

“Nosy little bitch!” The snarl drew her up short as the body of a tall, muscular male Coyote Breed jumped in front of her, blocking her exit.

Cassa let out a girly scream. A high-pitched, surprised scream that pierced her own eardrums before she skidded to the side, went down on one leg and slid past him.

Oh God. Angels watch over her. Jesus, Mary or Joseph, whoever was listening to prayers tonight, just get her out of this one. Get her out of this and she promised she wouldn’t harass Marv for a week. No, make that a month. She’d fix coffee for him. She’d call her old biddie of an aunt, send her flowers or something. She would find some kind of good deed worthy of saving her skin.

A low, dark laugh echoed behind her. “Run, little girl,” the wicked voice called out, the pitch low, the amusement in the tone sending fear snaking down her spine.

She could feel her own breath laboring in her chest and wondered if this would be the last time she would feel it.

“Did someone forget to post the ‘No Reporters’ sign?” A hard laugh sounded behind her again.

God, they were playing with her. Coyotes were like cats playing with mice when it came to their victims. And like the mouse, she was running, running, running, and still they were thrashing behind her, shaking the brambles, crunching through the dead leaves and laughing with evil amusement.

She should have thought, should have put more planning into this.

She should have brought a flashlight. The third sharp branch of the night jumped in her path, and this one slapped her broadside, left her cheek stinging and brought tears to her eyes a second before a sharp tug at her jacket jerked her back and tossed her to the ground.

She kicked and struck something hard, a second before a furious yelp was heard, then she rolled and scrambled to her feet again.

She was almost back up and running. She had her foot planted on the ground, ready to sprint, when a hard hand gripped her jacket again and threw her back.

This time, the breath whooshed from her lungs as she hit the ground. The impact sent pain racing through her, and just as she felt the hard fingers touch her next, she heard a hard, furious animalistic roar echo through the night.

The brilliant rays of a full moon broke through the clouds, illuminating the sight of the darkened figures no more than several feet from her.

Six Breeds—she knew they were Breeds—surrounded three others, quite possibly the Coyotes that had chased her through the forest. But in the center of the small clearing, there were two others facing off. A feral Feline roar sounded through the night once again. It was followed by a low, amused chuckle.

“Cabal, you’re following in your brother’s footsteps a little too closely here. Losing your mate in the forest? Quite possibly a very dangerous thing to do.”

Dog.

Cassa recognized him then. The mocking smirk on his face, the glitter of hard, cold eyes as he faced off with an enraged Bengal Breed.

Both men were tall, bold, powerful. Cassa felt the tension that filled the air now, and stared at the Coyote in amazement as he chuckled once again.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Dog?” Cabal snarled. “Last I heard you were leashed.”

Dog moved with smooth, lithe grace. A second later a match flared and the tip of a cigar glowed almost merrily, lighting his expression with a red, dangerous glow.

“Last I heard, you had a hold on one nosy little reporter,” Dog growled back. “She’s none the worse for wear from my gentle handling. A few bruises perhaps.”

Cabal snarled again, the sound sending a flare of trepidation surging through Cassa.

“Shall we call this one a draw then?” Dog questioned mockingly as he glanced around at the Breeds surrounding the men with him. “Three against six seems rather unfair odds to me.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Cabal snapped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Perhaps the same thing you are, but with quite possibly different reasons,” he answered. “We’re searching for the same Breed, I do believe, Bengal. Shall we lay odds on who finds him first?”

They were both searching for a killer. Well, my, my, my, didn’t that just make three of them?

Cassa rose slowly to her feet and brushed off the seat of her jeans with what she hoped was a carefully casual move. She bit back a wince at the bruises she knew would be showing soon.

Placing one foot behind the other, she stepped back once, then again.

“Go home to your handler, Coyote,” Cabal ordered him coldly. “Or I’ll have you carted home.”

Cassa took another step backward. Just a little farther, she thought, then she might have a chance of actually getting out of Cabal’s sight before he decided to focus on her. If angels were watching out for her, then she could actually make it back to the Jeep and to her hotel without having to face him.

“You have such an amazing capacity for self-confidence, Bengal,” Dog drawled. “Sorry, but I’m here to stay for the time being. There seems to be quite a bit of a mess that needs to be cleaned up in these mountains.”

A mess? That was an understatement if she had ever heard one.

One more step back.

“Cassa, make another move and you won’t be sitting on that perky little ass of yours for a week.”

The utter sincerity in the threat had her freezing.

“Dog has taken care of that for you,” she snapped out, glaring at both men. “I won’t be sitting for a week anyway.”

When Cabal moved, it was with such swiftness that even Dog’s rumored lightning fast reflexes couldn’t help him avoid that fist that planted itself in his face.

He hit the ground with a thud that Cassa swore she could feel even from where she was standing.

To give Dog credit, he didn’t come back swinging. He rescued his cigar from the ground, brushed the tip off and replaced it between his obviously swollen lips before breathing out heavily.

“Bengal, that one’s free,” he stated as he propped himself up on his elbows and stared up at Cabal. Cassa swore she saw a gleam of red in his eyes. “Don’t try it again.”

“Touch her again and I’ll kill you.” The promise was harsh, Cabal’s voice vibrating with rage.

“Felines are so dramatic,” Dog sighed, rising lithely to his feet as he glanced at Cassa.

“Drama” wasn’t exactly the word she would have used for it.

“They’re something, that’s for sure,” she muttered. It wasn’t a compliment.

Dog gave a brief, hard laugh. “He’s Bengal. You should have him explain exactly what that means.”

It could be worse than just being a Breed? She eyed Cabal suspiciously. She’d hate to imagine he could be more arrogant or stubborn than most Felines. It would be her luck though.

“Shut up and get the hell off this mountain,” Cabal snarled. As he spoke, Cassa cocked her head and listened. Swinging around, she turned and lifted her head. The silhouette was dim. The black against the clouded night sky was hard to detect, but the gleam of metal and the soft, almost undetectable hum was unmistakable. A Breed heli-jet.

She had been so close, almost within sight of the little valley she had been searching for. And now it would all be gone: Alonzo’s body as well as any proof that it had ever been there.

She turned back to Cabal slowly, feeling that familiar sense of betrayal rising inside her.

She should be used to it by now. Any story that might actually give her an insight into the Breeds, or might shed some light on the hell they still lived through, and she was blocked. Anytime she came close to the truth, it was covered up.

“Bastard!” She glared at him furiously before turning on her heel, despite his warning, and moving back along the path she had followed in.

Damn him.

“Cassa. Stay where you are!” Hard, cold demand filled his voice.

“Go to hell!” She tossed the words back at him, intent on getting just as far away from him and as fast as possible.

“Give him hell, Ms. Hawkins,” Dog laughed. “This is almost as good as actually catching Jonas covering up a crime. Perhaps we’ll be luckier next time and really find something. Don’t you think the Breeds should be revealed for who we are? You are a reporter after all. Doesn’t the story matter?” She could hear the smirk in his voice.

As if she wanted to find anything while he was in the vicinity. The next time she would make certain she blocked her scent first. That way, nosy Coyotes couldn’t stop her, harass her or otherwise endanger her self-preservation, where Cabal was concerned.

“I said hold up, dammit.” Hard fingers wrapped around her arm and dragged her to a stop, despite her struggles. “You’re not going anywhere.”

She wasn’t going anywhere? Cassa lowered her gaze to stare at the sight of his darker, broader fingers as they encircled her wrist, holding her in place. There was just enough light to make out his features, to detect the glitter of gold in the forest green eyes, and the hint of red as moonlight glinted within them.

Animal eyes. He was a Breed, and she often let herself forget that one little point. He wasn’t a normal male, and the reaction she had to him sure as hell wasn’t normal.

“You can file a complaint for harassment,” Dog’s voice echoed in the night again. The Coyote was damned brave considering he and his two men were surrounded by well-armed Felines.

“Shut up, Dog.” Cabal’s tone was just hard enough to hint at the tension that suddenly flared between them.

Cassa felt it. She watched his nostrils flare, knew he was drawing in her scent, that he could smell her arousal as well as her reaction to the clasp of his fingers.

Such a simple touch, yet the powerful dominance and clear arrogance that was so much a part of him wrapped around her tightly.

It was just his fingers, but she felt so much more. She swore she felt his touch traveling through her body, through her veins, soaking into her pores.

“Let me go, Cabal.” Mating heat had started with much less than such a simple touch.

Dog’s chuckle echoed through the night again. “Boys, this could get interesting. These Felines get a little intense over their women. And she smells like a hot one.”

Heat flamed through her face. Cassa could feel the wave of angry embarrassment that washed through her as she glared back at the Coyote. Her angry look was met with a flash of strong white teeth in the darkness.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Cabal warned her, the softness of his voice sending chills racing down her spine.

“Of course I shouldn’t have,” she agreed sarcastically. “I should have just let you have your little party alone. Let you hide the truth and bury my head in the sand just as everyone else does, shouldn’t I?”

She watched his face. Even in the darkness she could detect the tightening of his features and the sudden lust that flared in his eyes.

“That’s exactly what you should have done,” he snapped back at her as he turned and began to move, practically dragging her behind him.

“Like hell!” She jerked at the hold he had on her. “Dammit, Cabal, stop pulling at me.”

He stopped suddenly, turning on her, his eyes shining in the darkness. “Are you going to come with me peaceably?”

“I doubt it.” She would have kicked at him if she thought it would do her any good.

“That’s what I thought,” he snarled. “Lawe, finish up here, and escort those damned Coyotes off this mountain,” he suddenly ordered. “I’ll meet you back at base.”

Where the hell base was, she had no idea, but before she could protest or question anything, he was pulling her down the path once again. Where the hell he actually thought he was taking her, she wasn’t sure. The one thing she was certain of: She most likely didn’t want to be there with Cabal.

“This isn’t going to work,” she hissed furiously.

“It’s working fine for me.”

Of course it was working fine for him. She had no doubt in her mind.

If there was one thing she knew about Cabal, it was that his superior arrogance worked perfectly. For him. What it did for others was another story.

The path veered to the left, the opposite direction of the valley she had been heading for. This was just her luck, of course. And there wasn’t a chance in hell that Cabal was going to let her in on whatever was going on here.

“This won’t stop me.” She didn’t fight his hold now. She’d learned over the years of watching mated couples what came of pushing a male Breed too hard. Especially when he was agitated. Cabal was definitely agitated.

Poor fucking kitty.

She hated this. She hated being dragged behind him and forced away from the direction she wanted to go in. She hated being forced into anything anyway. He was taking her choice away from her, with no explanation, with no reason.

“Ignoring me won’t work either,” she informed him, hearing the shakiness in her own voice.

He was affecting her, she couldn’t help it. There was something about being this close to him that made her too warm and made her too damned nervous.

“I’m not ignoring you,” he informed her shortly. “Just shut the hell up, Cassa, until I can get over the fact that a fucking Coyote was chasing you through the forest. Do you have any idea what it did to me to see him on your ass like that?”

Anger filled his tone now.

“So why didn’t you just shoot him?” she asked with mocking sweetness. “Or dump him in a volcano? Isn’t that the preferred method of disposing with irritating Breed enemies this year?”

“That was last year. This year it’s a pit of alligators. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Do I ever get the memo?” she muttered. The Breeds didn’t inform anyone of anything. They made a point of being closemouthed and stubborn.

“I’ll make sure you get the next one.”

She just bet he would. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to tell her anything, unless he was forced to. If he kept dragging her around like a child, then he was going to find out just where he could shove his memos.

Tightening her lips to hold back the angry words eager to fall from her tongue, Cassa tromped behind him until they came to an area where their wicked black mountain Raiders were parked. The powerful, high four-wheel-drive vehicles held four easily, and if she wasn’t mistaken, one of them was outfitted with a lethal automatic rifle on the roll bar that encased the top of it.

“Get in.” He jerked open the passenger door to the nearest vehicle.

Cassa eyed the darkened interior suspiciously before eyeing him more so. “Why?”

“Because I said to.” Before she could do more than draw a shocked breath, he had lifted her into the seat and slammed the door closed.

She should jump right back out of the vehicle, she thought furiously, but that little click she’d heard a second after the door slammed was probably a lock. And more than likely it would take her longer to figure out how to unlock it than it would for him to get into the vehicle and stop her.

Instead, she crossed her arms over her breasts and glared out the windshield as he moved into the driver’s seat and started the ignition.

The soft hum of the motor was barely detectable as he slid the Raider into drive, turned the steering wheel and began maneuvering down the mountain.

He made a path where there were no paths. The mountain-adept vehicle traversed the rolling dips and maneuvered around ages-old trees until they hit the graveled road.

Cassa stayed silent, watched the night beyond the headlights and attempted to get her head on straight where this man, this Breed, was concerned.

They had a past, too much of a past to ever be able to get to the point where other mates were. Those she knew who had mated, loved. They loved each other with a depth and dedication that brought tears to her eyes if she thought too long on it. They adored each other, they trusted each other. And that trust was something she knew she would never have from Cabal.

“Why the hell are you here?” he asked as he turned on the blacktop road that led back to Glen Ferris. “You’re supposed to be back in New York.”

“Obviously I’m not,” she stated quietly. “I’m here.”

“Why?”

“I received a tip.” She shrugged. “Reporters get those, you know, they follow them to get stories. That’s what we do.”

“There’s no story here, so go home.” His voice rumbled dangerously.

Cassa almost smiled at the sound. It would have been intimidating if she didn’t hear it damned near every day of her life from one Breed or another. They were always rumbling, growling or roaring. It was their nature.

“Where you can be found, a story can be found,” she grunted. “Give me a break, Cabal.”

“Give me one. Where did you get your tip?” The question was more a demand.

Cassa gave a brief, hard laugh. “Why don’t I just give you that information?” There wasn’t a chance that was happening.

She turned and glanced at him in time to see his jaw tighten angrily.

“Don’t make me dig for the answers, Cassa,” he snapped. “Where or who did you get the tip from?”

“Anonymous source,” she answered truthfully, knowing it would make him crazy.

She was right. A little growl vibrated in his chest as he glanced at her.

“What did your source say?”

“That you could go to hell,” she bit out angrily. “Leave it alone, Cabal. I’m not in the mood for your questions, and I’m sure as hell not in the mood to give you any more information than you’re giving me. Now, if you want to try a nice little exchange here . . .” She left the question open.

“Exchange of what?” he asked suspiciously.

Cassa smiled. “Information of course. I don’t bargain with anything else. Especially with you.”

“Especially with me?” If his tone of voice was anything to go by, he was becoming angrier by the second.

That should concern her, she thought, it really should. Only a fool deliberately teased the tiger.

“Of course.” She shrugged again. “I like to think I’m smart enough not to want to mate with a Breed, Cabal. This reaction building between us isn’t on my list of things to deal with this year.”

And, of course, that comment didn’t please him in the least. His expression became darker, tighter.

“And if I decide I do want to deal with it?”

Cassa laughed at that. Trust a Breed to only want to do something if challenged.

“I’d tell you to check your little black book for the name of one of your little playthings then.” She heard the contrary tone of her own voice and assured herself that she wasn’t jealous.

She had been assuring herself of that for years. She didn’t believe it now any more than she had believed it then.

Hell yes, she was jealous. Every time she turned around there was another woman on his arm. Even after she had learned about the mating heat, and learned that the reaction had begun all those years ago in that facility, still, he’d ignored her. She’d begun taking the hormonal treatments to contain the arousal that bloomed inside her at the most awkward times, while Cabal had satiated his lust with other women.

There were days she was thankful that he avoided the heat with the same dedication she did. There were other days that she thought she just might hate him for it.

“So we’re going to just keep pretending we’re not dying for each other?” he asked, as he pulled into the parking lot of the inn.

Cassa could hear the throb of lust in his voice. It was hard to miss. The dark, husky pitch was a vibration of hunger and need.

“That was my plan.” She ignored the regret that ached inside her just as she ignored the loneliness that wracked her at night.

She’d found over the years that there was more to this reaction than just the physical. There were the nights when she’d lie alone and wonder which woman he was with, and hate them both. And there were nights when she wished she was the one he was lying beside.

“Think that plan is going to work?”

She turned to him as he asked that question. “It’s worked so far.”

He nodded slowly, then reached out to touch the hair that had fallen over her shoulder.

“It won’t work if you stay here.”

Cassa felt her breath lodge in her throat as the backs of his fingers brushed over the material of the thick shirt covering her breasts.

“Meaning?” She was breathless now, waiting, telling herself she wasn’t going to let him torture her even as she almost welcomed the surge of sensation that tore through her body.

“Meaning, you’re too close,” he explained, his voice dark, filled with hunger. “Meaning, Cassa, get the hell out of Glen Ferris, or you’re going to find yourself mated. And I promise you”—he leaned closer as she fought to breathe through the stifling atmosphere of lust that suddenly filled the vehicle—“you won’t be writing this story then. You’ll be too exhausted to consider a story. I’ll make damned certain of it.”

Her teeth snapped together in offended fury as she curled her fingers into fists and leaned just close enough, just far enough that she knew he could feel her breath on his lips.

“And I promise you,” she stated tightly. “Nothing you do, no matter how you do it, is going to keep me from this story. Remember that, Cabal, before you make the worst mistake of both our lives.”

Before he could reply, she hit the latch at the side of the door. When she jerked the handle back to open the panel, it flew open and she jumped from the seat without bothering to look back. Back straight, pride bruised, she strode for the door to the inn.

She could feel him watching her. She could feel him wanting her. And she could feel every hair at the nape of her neck lifting in warning at the thought of exactly what he could do to her.

He could possess her. He could make her beg, and he could break her heart. And Cassa knew, breaking her heart was the one thing that could very well destroy her.

She wanted his love, not just his body. She had a very bad feeling though that love was the last thing Cabal wanted to give her.