Hour of the Lion

Chapter Twenty-five

Married. She was married. Well, yeah, so they called it lifemated, but it was really being married.

Vic turned off the shower and dashed into the bedroom. Calum had already left, and the clock said three o’clock. Talk about running really late, dammit.

It was this married stuff doing it too. Married. Over the past few days, she kept repeating the word, and her stomach quivered like fucking Jell-O each time. Whatever happened to planning out major life-altering events?

She’d never been so happy. Ever.

After yanking on a shirt and jeans, she smiled. Her life had started to feel almost normal-as normal as some bizarre furred-thingie family with two husbands could be.

With a ready-made daughter as part of the package. That was like…like…she didn’t even have the words. Jamie had actually known about Alec and Calum’s plans and cheered them on. She’d immediately started calling Vic MomVee, all one word. Vic smiled, her eyes stinging. Hell of a name. Funny how she’d felt so proud at earning the rank of sergeant. Yet this mother title was even more rewarding since Jamie’s love had come with it. Vic couldn’t get from one side of the house to the other without collecting a hug from the girl.

Or from the men either. She’d married two men. Or would that be two cats? That Mother goddess of theirs must have a truly odd idea of humor.

Then again, maybe She just had a well-developed sense of fun. Vic shook her head. A few days ago, Alec and Calum had woken her and Jamie up in the middle of the night to play in the forest-pouncing, stalking, and hunting. And how cool was that? Made summer picnics seem so yesterday.

She glanced at her watch and grimaced. Yanking on a white shirt, she grabbed a black jacket and ran.

Ten minutes later, she eased into the police station. With any luck, Alec wouldn’t notice-

He looked up from his paperwork and fixed her with a dark green glare. “Miz Waverly-McGregor, you’re late.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d arrived late for anything. “Um. I’m sorry. I ran into a…” She felt a flush creep up her face. She’d worked evening patrol all week because of the movie shoots, and had still been asleep when Calum came home for lunch. A bed was a very indefensible location, and his so-called quickie hadn’t been quick at all. “I guess I lost track of the time. It won’t happen again.”

The frown on Alec’s face was belied by the amusement in his eyes. “I realize you’re a newly-wed, but this department expects its law enforcement personnel to show up on time. Our citizens deserve no less.”

“Yes, sir.”

He finally grinned. “I can’t imagine what could have happened to make you lose track of time-except Calum called to explain.”

She stared at him. He knew? “You sadistic dirtbag.” She tossed her jacket over a hook on the wall and took a seat beside the desk. “I thought you were seriously pissed-off.”

He ran a finger down her cheek, around a mouth swollen from Calum’s mind-blowing kisses. “Oh, but I am. Angry that I didn’t get a nooner. You’d better plan on placating me tonight, or you’ll be in big trouble.”

“Oooh. Please, Mr. Sheriff, I’ll do anything.” Her blood heated as she thought of a few things she could do. She licked her lips, and her voice turned husky. “Anything.”

His eyes grew heavy lidded, and then he snatched his hand back. “You were sent by the devil, weren’t you? Toying with us weak-minded men, leaving us helpless in your wake.”

She grinned. “Yep. That’s the idea. So, what’s on the schedule today?”

“First, join Jenkins and practice patrolling in a car. Then you’re on downtown duty after five.”

Watching over those empty-headed movie people. She sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Alec glanced up when Calum strolled into the office with a manila envelope. Leaning back in his chair, Alec studied his brother with pleasure. Calum had never looked better. His eyes had cleared of the last lingering grief. “Being lifemated agrees with you.”

“Indeed.”

“But I’ll ask that you stop making my deputy late.” Alec used his foot to shove the spare chair over. “What brings you to my illustrious establishment?”

“Two things. First, Tynan O’Connolly sent more information. He managed to get some background on Vidal. Brawd, he grew up in Gray Cliff.”

“Gray Cliff?” Alec frowned. The name seemed familiar. “The town in Rainier territory that the hellhounds decimated a few years ago?”

“Precisely. Vidal moved away long before it disappeared, but I would guess that’s where he learned of the Daonain.” Calum’s voice turned grim. “I don’t know what set him in search of us now.”

“We may never find out. I’ll settle for him being dead. What’s the other thing?”

Calum’s eyes turned cold. “Swane is here.”

Alec rose to his feet, fury rising like a forest fire. “In town?”

“Aye. Jamie caught a trace of his scent when the movie crew was filming, but too many people were there. What better way to hide than in a crowd of people?”

“Tonight’s the last night for the shoot-they’re leaving tomorrow morning.” Catch him. Kill him. Alec forced the rage down. “Is she okay?”

Calum’s words were tight. “She doesn’t want to hide. She wants it over with. She’s tired of the restrictions we’ve put on her and she said”-he shook his head-“ordered, actually, that she wanted to play rabbit to lure out the wolf.”

By Herne, they’d raised a strong female. “You agree?”

“Not in the least.” Calum rubbed his neck. “But she has a point. This way, we’d have control in springing the trap. If they remain at large, some other time they might get lucky.”

Alec nodded. “Then we’ll set it up.”

“Don’t tell Victoria.”

“Why not?” The memory of a snarling cougar came to mind. Twice Vixen had acted-without thinking-to protect Jamie. “I see your point.”

Wells considered contacting her by phone. But no, the good sergeant was too adept at sliding past the truth. She should be, Wells thought with a bitter smile. He’d trained her.

A face-to-face. He hoped she had answers that would satisfy him.

After parking, he wandered down Cold Creek’s Main Street, pleased with the old-fashioned street lamps that lit the sidewalk nicely. He window-shopped in the small stores that had closed for the night. A movie shoot had set up at the end of the block, and he deliberately moved away from the crowd. Eventually, he crossed to the center of the street and took a seat on an ironwork bench. People-watching was one of his favorite activities.

There she was.

Clad in a khaki uniform, looking very cop-like, Sergeant Morgan walked her beat, watching the people, alert to everything going on. She would make a fine police officer.

He saw the almost unnoticeable hesitation in her stride as she spotted him. She moved out of the light, so he couldn’t evaluate whether she felt pleasure-or dismay-at his presence. When he ignored her, she did the same. Pride warmed his chest; she hadn’t lost her skills. She was one of the best.

He stood and stretched, checked his watch, and then walked down the street toward her. He passed her on the sidewalk, eyes flicking to Angie’s diner. There he could wait in comfort until she found an appropriate time to meet him.

Full dark. Showtime. Swane smoothed his short beard, tugged his bus driver’s uniform straight, and walked away from the vehicle like a man needing supper. Behind him the filming continued, and he almost grinned. The acting in the romance wasn’t bad; Tony Vidal might actually be making a blockbuster movie. Wouldn’t that surprise the asshole?

If he lived long enough to see it. Swane snorted in disgust. He’d finally figured out Vidal’s problem. The shaking hands, his difficulty controlling his anger, choking on a drink, his weird gait. Parkinson’s-like Swane’s uncle who’d died in a nursing home. Vidal wanted to become a monster to keep from turning into a vegetable and would kill anyone in his path to do it.

Swane cracked his knuckles. Not a problem. But after the bastard got his wish, Swane would grab the half-a-mil coming to him and quietly disappear into a third-world country. Maybe he’d take his own pet pussy. Rip her claws out-and teeth too-and she’d do anything he wanted. He hardened and had to stop and adjust himself.

Avoiding the pools of light, Swane worked his way over to where the ‘extras’ from the town waited for their cue. Looked like most of the people in Cold Creek. They’d practiced their part several times last night until the director let them go, and tonight would be the take. According to the skit, when the villain started shooting at the hero, the panicking mob would flee through several streets. The very dark streets.

Nerves on edge, he watched for any mountain lion shapes and shadows as he walked to his position.

After the rehearsals last night, he knew his target’s route. This time, as the small group of fleeing extras came past him, he’d trank her and toss her in the car. The trunk was already open. He’d stop on the road and administer a longer-acting dose, and be at the farmhouse shortly after. He might even leave her sedated long enough to…enjoy himself before getting down to work.

Fuck yes. There was nothing like the young ones with their high screams and terrified eyes.

The sound of a pistol split the night air, then several more shots. Screaming. Yelling. The filming had begun. The people scattered into the various streets. They’d been told to keep running since filming would continue here and there.

No camera was set up on this street. Vidal had been clear about his requirements with the director.

Swane listened, and a second later, the kid appeared out of the darkness. She ran toward him, trying to look afraid, not very effectively. That would change. A few more steps and then…she stopped dead. Sniffing and looking around. What the fuck?

Whatever. She was close enough. He aimed and heard a growl. Before he could turn, jaws closed over his hand. His skin ripped, his fingers breaking with little snapping sounds. He screamed and struck at the animal. Another huge, monstrous dog sprang on him.

Swane landed hard on his back. As he tried to rise, teeth snapped close to his neck. He froze, barely breathing. Spittle hit him in the face as the dog’s fangs hovered an inch from his throat.

They weren’t dogs. Wolves. Werewolves. The monsters weren’t just mountain lions. Swane’s bladder released.

From the sidewalk, the girl watched him, then looked past him.

Too terrified to move, Swane rolled his eyes in that direction. Two men were crossing the street. The cop. The girl’s father.

Fuck.

Vic didn’t slow her pace, but her heart hammered like a ‘ma deuce’ machine gun. Wells! Here in her town. The thrill of seeing him had lasted one whole second before turning to worry. And dread. After some hard calculation, she straightened her shoulders and followed him into Angie’s Diner. I can do this.

Supper rush had ended, and only two men in overalls and work boots occupied stools at the counter. Wells had taken a table near the corner, and he motioned for her to join him. Her footsteps on the old wooden floors sounded like a drum roll of doom as she walked into the room.

“Vicki, dear!” The owner, Angie O’Neal, came out from behind the long counter, hands outstretched in greeting. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how pleased we are for you and the men. You’ve been good for them, and for little Jamie.”

Oh, this was so not the time for this. Vic forced a smile and let the woman squeeze her hands. “Thank you, Angie. That’s sweet of you.”

“What can I get you? The special tonight is meat loaf and mashed potatoes.”

“Just coffee, thanks. I’m meeting a friend,” Vic added, nodding toward Wells.

He stood as she walked up to the table, politely pulling out a chair for her. Attired in jeans, T-shirt and a dark brown corduroy jacket, he’d dressed to fit in. They waited until Angie had set two cups and a pot of coffee on their table and returned to her counter.

Face impassive, he studied her with clear blue eyes, then nodded. “You’re looking well, Sergeant. Very healthy, in fact.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I was in the area and had a notion to see how you’re doing. Have you adapted to civilian life?”

In the area? Sure, you were. She summoned a smile. “I think so. It’s been harder than I thought in some ways.” There was something wrong here. His expression and body language were…off.

“I’m not surprised.” He changed subjects. “As you requested, I investigated the ex-marine named Swane.”

“I-I told you that the locals took care of it.” She realized her mistake immediately.

His eyes turned cold. “But they didn’t, Morgan. The homeless crimes are unsolved, and Swane isn’t in custody. In fact, they don’t have his name at all in conjunction with the case.”

Oh shit, she was screwed.

“Your Swane is an ‘enforcer’ who works for a Tony Vidal. So I checked out Vidal. Typical mobster with some odd interests.”

She kept her eyes down, pretending to watch her coffee. Pupil dilation, eye movements-Wells could read the smallest flicker. “Really.” How much did the spymaster know?

“He’s investigating rumors of people transforming into mountain lions.”

Worse and worse. She turned her shock into amusement. “Excuse me? Mountain lions?”

“Odd isn’t it? But about two months ago, he captured a young man…who transformed into a mountain lion when tortured. Vidal wants to know how to create more monsters. That is where using the homeless as specimens came into play.”

“Are you serious?” Please, don’t take this story seriously. Laugh, dammit. She saw her coffee lapping at the sides of the cup-her hands were shaking. Moving her hands back, she exhaled the anxiety out, inhaled calmness.

“Oh yes. He took recordings of the transformations.” Well’s lips turned up. “Keeps them on his laptop.”

Holy fuck. Wells had documentation. “He’s keeping all that information to himself? Why not give it to the National Inquirer for some big bucks?”

“His motivation is unclear at the moment. He’s focused only on how the creatures are created.”

“He doesn’t sound sane, sir,” she said lightly. If the information was still in one place, the shifters could destroy it. Calum needed to hear-

“Did you know the young man-the one who turned into a mountain lion-was captured nearby?”

Fingers of ice closed around her spine. “In Cold Creek?”

“That’s why Mr. Vidal is holed up not far away. I intend to pay him a visit later tonight to discuss his recordings.” Wells looked her straight in the eyes. “Do you want to tell me again why you’re here, Sergeant?”

Don’t do this, she wanted to say. “Because my life is here. I fell in love, married, quit the service, you know how it goes.” She pushed to her feet. “And speaking of new lives, I need to get back to work.”

“Gone over to the enemy?” he asked softly. “Would you like a charge of treason added to all your medals?”

The slash was quick and brutal. “I’m no traitor, dammit!”

“Then tell me about these animals. How many are there? How are they created?”

Created? Did he think some evil scientist had made them? She wanted so badly to give him the truth. She couldn’t. “I don’t-”

“You’re lying, Morgan.” His voice had gone flat, his eyes icy-he’d never looked at her like that before. “I’d never have believed you would betray your country-or me. I loved-” He broke off his sentence, breathed out harshly.

The pain surged all through her, hurting more with every pump of her heart. How could she lose him like this? After her first assassination, he’d showed up at her apartment. Ignored her shaking hands, her teary eyes. Stayed up all night with her, drinking coffee. Just being there. He’d always been there. Guilt shriveled her spirit.

“Vicki,” he said softly. “Have you seen these creatures?”

A tried and true technique. Slam the subject over the head, induce guilt, be their friend again. She searched for some answer to give him, and then simply shook her head. “Sorry, sir. I haven’t seen any creatures.”

All the life drained from his face, and his blade-like voice hacked bloody pieces from her soul as he said, “They’re monsters, Sergeant. However they’re created. You get me the information I need so we can hunt them down, and there’ll be a medal for you.” His voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. “Otherwise you’ll have your discharge, Morgan. A dishonorable one.”

She stared at him, her jaw clenched. Dishes crashed behind her, the sound mimicking the shattering of her heart. I’m sorry, sir. Trying to find enough air to speak, she inhaled…and caught a scent. She turned.

Alec and Calum stood in the doorway.

“They’re monsters, Sergeant. However they’re created. You get me the information I need so we can hunt them down, and there’ll be a medal for you.” For the first time in his life, Alec cursed a shifter’s hearing as the blood in his veins turned to ice. His heart slowed, each thud painful. His chest was squeezed too tightly to inhale.

Surely he’d misunderstood what the man had said. Surely she’d been misleading the human. Alec looked at Vicki and his hope disintegrated. Guilt showed clearly in her shocked face, her horrified eyes as she stared at him and Calum. Her color drained away.

“Vicki?” He couldn’t feel his lips, but the word escaped anyway.

She’d lied to them, to him. Lied and lied and lied.

Knowing his brother had frozen, Calum stepped in front of him. Victoria’s face was white, her eyes wide, the scent of her anger mingling with…guilt.

Guilt. What kind of traitor had they harbored in their midst? The man’s words “hunt them down” hovered in the room like the vultures had hovered over his wife’s body. Demon. Monsters. “Hunt them down.”

Calum shook his head, trying to escape the images, as his fears and memories mingled into a terrifying brew: Thorson holding his bloody shoulder, Angie with open staring eyes, Lenora…so cold, all life fled, Alec torn apart like so much meat, Lachlan lifeless on a steel table, his Jamie… Calum choked, drowning in horror.

Burning with fury at this female he’d thought he knew, who he’d brought into his home, trusted with his daughter. Loved. And all the time, she’d been setting them up as prey for Lachlan’s killers.

“Calum-I-” the human female called Victoria held her hands out to him. She met his gaze and flinched, taking a step back. “I didn’t. I didn’t, Calum.”

Hunt them down. A medal. The growl boiled up from inside him and as it escaped, so did his control. Wildness filled his soul, pulling at him, trying to change him into the beast.

Alec’s hand closed on his arm. “Steady, brawd.”

She looked at his brother. “Alec? I never-I didn’t tell him.”

Alec raggedly asked, “You’re not a spy for the government?”

The question struck her like a blow, and she took a step back.

The sound Alec made was that of a mortally wounded animal.

As Calum scented his brother’s despair, the door in his mind burst open. The mountain seemed to shake under his feet. Claws sprouted from his fingers.

“Dammit, get out of here before he kills you.” Alec’s words were hoarse as he yanked Calum against his chest.

Everything blurred. As Calum fought the trawsfur, he barely heard Alec’s grief-threaded whisper, “And Herne help me, so will I.”

“No,” Vic whispered. This couldn’t be happening.

Calum’s face had distorted with anger, his eyes black as the pits of hell. Snarling…like a maddened animal. The tingle of shifting was strong in the air. He’d kill her. As furious as he was, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and he’d tear her to bits.

Alec struggled with his brother. His last look at her had held only anger-none of the love, the tenderness.

When someone grabbed her arm and spun her around, Vic barely pulled her punch in time.

Angie’s face was red and furious as she shoved Vic back a step. “Get out of here. I’d like to kill you myself, but if Calum does, he’ll never forgive himself.” When Vic couldn’t move, Angie slapped her, the cracking sound followed by fiery pain.

Vic shook her head. She hadn’t tried to block the blow and didn’t fight now as Angie pushed her toward the back. And out. The door slammed behind her.

Blackness surrounded her as she stood in the alley, trying to breathe, staring at the building. Her ears rang; her head swam with pain and guilt. Alec. Calum. God, no. She hugged herself. What can I do?

Somewhere close, a car started up and moved slowly away. Without lights. Wells.

Breaking into a run, she headed for the police station.