Mate Claimed

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The tiger Shifter who called himself Twenty-three was surprised when Iona returned. She could tell the surprise only through his scent, however, because he glared in fury through the bars and didn’t change expression when he saw her.

“I need your help,” Iona said to him. “You help me free my friend, and I’ll take you out of here.”

“You said you’d take me out if I told you where the cub was.”

“And I will. But I have to take my friend too, and the cub. And you have to promise not to touch them.”

The noise that came back to her was a feral snarl, and she worried again.

“Hold it together,” Iona said. “Tell me about yourself. What did you mean when you said you’ve always been here? Were you brought here as a baby? A cub, I mean?”

“No. I have always been here.”

“Born here?” The tiger looked full-grown, about the same age as Jace perhaps. “Your mother was captured?”

“I don’t know. I never knew the female they made me from.”

“Made you? You mean like artificial insemination?”

“I don’t know.”

“Holy crap on a crutch,” Iona muttered.

Humans breeding Shifters? Iona thought about what she’d seen up in the laboratory—dozens of test tubes in the glass cabinets, Amanda, a half-human Shifter baby, being scanned every which way, the data flowing across the computer screens.

Humans had stolen Graham’s wolves from a bus and taken them to the facility in the desert to harvest blood and skin samples. Iona bet the Shifters had been scanned and studied there too, while they’d been tranqed.

She looked at the cages again, all empty except this one. Tiger Shifter was number twenty-three. Numbers one through twenty-two were all dead.

“Why?” she asked in horror.

“To fight for them.”

“But Shifters aren’t allowed to…”

Collared Shifters, Shifters acknowledged by humans, weren’t allowed to be in the military or law enforcement, the human government reasoning that dangerous Shifters couldn’t be trusted with weapons. Shifters might turn the guns on their human masters.

But Shifters bred in secret, in this building in the middle of who knew where, un-Collared and allowed to go feral…Were humans trying to create Shifters they could control to fight for them, the same reason the Fae had bred them long, long ago?

Shifters they could control without Collars…Iona thought about what Eric had told her about the experiments done on him twenty years ago, and the pain he was experiencing now. Liam and Eric had surmised that Eric’s adrenaline spikes were causing the pain, as though the Collar was doing its job without actually going off.

Iona went cold. Had the experiments on Eric been a precursor to this? If the humans had been trying to develop Shifters to fight, they’d have to be un-Collared so they could battle without restriction. But the humans would need another way to control the Shifters when they wanted to—had they been trying to find a way with Eric? And now, twenty years later, whatever they’d done to him was biting him in the ass.

And how long had the humans been doing this? Experiments had been forbidden on Shifters, but if Tiger Man was Jace’s age, apparently they’d gone on all these years in secret.

The experiments couldn’t be going well though. Not with the first twenty-two Shifters dead. Was that why they’d wanted the wolves’ blood and DNA? To try again? What if it hadn’t been just blood and skin that the researchers had taken, but eggs and sperm?

“Oh, Goddess.” Iona had never thought about the pagan deities much, but right now, the Goddess, with her moon shining high above them, was the only thing available to give her comfort and strength. “I’m taking you out of here.”

The lock on the tiger’s cage was thick and electronic, and opened with a magnetic key card. Of course. They’d need to make sure Twenty-three was securely confined. If Iona broke the lock without swiping the electronic key through it, the cage door still might not open.

Iona heaved a sigh. “I’ll be right back.”

She shifted to her panther again as Tiger growled, not believing her. She sprinted to the stairwell, then through the door and up all the damn stairs again.

Iona peeked into the lab at the top before she went in, to find the two researchers sprawled on the floor where she’d left them. She wondered, as she went to the niche where she’d found her purse, whether she’d hit them hard enough to keep them out awhile, or so hard they’d never wake up again.

She broke the lock of the cabinet next to the niche and found the researchers’ personal belongings. They had phones, which she took, and keys, which she also took, and felt grim satisfaction when one of the key rings had an electronic key card attached to it.

She stayed human this time to run back down the stairs carrying all the goodies. Iona set everything out of harm’s reach and approached the cage with the key card.

“Let’s hope,” she said, and swiped the card through the reader.

The lock’s light went green, and the cage door clicked open. At the same time, Tiger Man slammed himself against the bars, his eyes red and enraged. He barreled out of the cage, straight for Iona.

In their trek through the desert, Eric and Graham had passed several guard posts containing men in SUVs with high-powered rifles, and signs posted everywhere warning people to stay out or expect to be shot for their pains. Eric and Graham had moved like ghosts in the night, flowing against the black desert, never spotted.

They now looked down from the top of the knifelike hill they’d crested to the heart of Area 51 spread out before them.

A long runway stretched north toward the huge dry bed of Groom Lake, the lake bed stark white in the moonlight. A few planes were on the airstrip running in the night, lights blinking. Hangers clustered in tight formation near the end of the runway, illuminated, work going on even now. Other buildings filled the spaces to the west of the runway, but Eric was fixed on one a little way away from them.

The humans hadn’t bothered to put fences around the building to which Xavier’s directions had brought Eric. He studied it—a military rectangular block a few stories high with antennas on top, one narrow door, which was guarded, and few windows. The windows Eric could see were narrow and set high in the walls, all too small for a man or large leopard to squeeze through.

Eric shifted to human in the darkness, and Graham rose into his man shape next to him.

Without speaking, Eric moved on down the hill toward where he knew Iona to be, Graham right behind him. Never mind Xavier’s GPS coordinates, Eric knew Iona was there. He felt the pull of the mate bond leading him straight to her.

The mate bond told him now that she was in deep trouble.

Eric halted again to crouch in the darkness a few yards from the building. “You sure?” Graham whispered to him.

“Yes.” Eric took the camera phone he’d worn on a pack around his waist and snapped a few pictures.

“Brilliant ideas on how we get in?” Graham said, lips nearly touching Eric’s ear.

Eric scanned the building, which didn’t seem to be as heavily guarded as the hangers and the airstrip, though it did have one guard, standing upright and alert, at the front door. No cars were parked around it, though the other buildings had plenty of vehicles in their parking lots. This building looked deserted, ignored by the humans, which meant something pretty bad must be going on in there.

“Roof,” Eric said. He looked at Graham. Eric knew he could scale the wall—he was a cat after all—but could a big wolf?

“I’m right behind you,” Graham said.

“Don’t get caught.”

Eric put away the camera, morphed back into his leopard, slunk forward, and moved stealthily to the building. He hoped no humans had come up with the idea to put land mines around it, but too late to worry about that now.

He made it to the building, found a dark corner, crouched down as far as he could, and sprang upward. He caught bricks and window ledges with his paws, and when he got high enough, a fire escape. At one point he found a CCTV camera, which he smashed.

Eric reached the top and pulled himself up, hearing Graham panting and climbing behind him. Graham made it over the lip of the roof, and Eric saw that he’d chosen to climb in his wolf-beast form.

In silence they searched the rooftop for a door that would take them inside. Then they’d scour the entire building for Iona, Cassidy, and the cub, and pray they found them alive.

Tiger Man’s half-Shifter beast grabbed Iona by the throat, madness in his eyes. Iona gasped for breath and found none. His fingers bit into her windpipe, starting to crush, points of pain. He was strong, enraged, crazed.

Iona fought him in watery terror; then that terror snapped something inside her. Iona’s control dissolved as blackness filled her vision.

She shifted to her half beast without realizing she’d done it, her neck muscles hardening under the Tiger’s hands, until his fingers could no longer crush her. Iona brought her hands up between his and snapped apart his hold on her.

Tiger let her go, but he took one step back, flowed into his pure tiger form, and attacked. The tiger’s eyes were bloodshot and feral, and the feral inside Iona responded.

Never mind Eric’s lessons in control, or Iona’s worry that she’d succumb to the wild thing inside her. She no longer cared. This animal was attacking her and needed to be subdued.

Iona had a cub of the pride to protect. Iona was a dominant, never mind how big the guy was, and she’d teach him to obey her.

She changed all the way to panther and ripped into Tiger Man, her wildcat enraged. The tiger was huge, his paws the size of Iona’s head, but she was fast. They fought close, snapping, snarling, tearing, biting.

Blood flowed hot down Iona’s fur, pain bit into her side, but she kept on fighting. She’d defeat him, rule him, bend him to her will.

Tiger Man had no intention of bending to anyone’s will. He’d been the only experiment to survive—all these cages were now empty except his. He’d thrived, which meant he was very strong.

He used that strength to raise Iona into the air and slam her to the cement floor. Iona’s breath crashed out of her, but she rolled and regained her feet, the panther quick.

She was hurt, gasping for breath, but she would not let him defeat her. To lose would give the tiger control over her, and she could not afford to do that.

Tiger didn’t wait for her to recover. He was on her even as she stood, his weight dragging her back to the floor. He rained down blows, but Iona fought back, ripping claws across his belly and drawing blood. Tiger roared his pain and smacked his paw across her head, making the world spin.

He drew back for another blow but something streamed across the room with terrible swiftness, and landed with all four feet against Tiger Man’s side. Iona saw a flash of white and black, then Eric was fighting the tiger, his leopard teeth and claws moving faster than Iona could see. Eric’s Collar sparked once, then went silent.

A human arm covered with flame tattoos reached down to help Iona to her feet. Iona shifted from her beast to her human form and let Graham help her up. She stood with her hands on hips, breathing heavily, her side bleeding, the claw wounds hurting like fury.

In the middle of the room, Eric and the tiger fought in a flurry of fur, claws, teeth, and snarls.

“Eric, don’t kill him!” Iona shouted.

“Are you crazy?” Graham asked. “That’s a feral—what’s he doing here?”

“I’m not sure. I think…I think humans created him.”

Graham stared at her, his gray white eyes luminous in the darkness. “Created him? What the fuck?”

“I don’t know.” Iona dragged in a breath. “We need to keep him alive and get him out of here. I promised him.”

Graham rolled his eyes. “Felines.” He shifted to his black wolf form and loped into the fight.

Graham at first tried to pull apart the two snarling balls of wildcat, but he got knocked into a wall for his trouble. His wolf howled, then he sprang into the fight again, swatting and biting both leopard and tiger.

A harsh scream rose from the tangle of Shifters, but it wasn’t the tiger. Iona heard the sound with her heart. The agony came from Eric, and she knew in that moment, without doubt, that her mate was going to die.

Iona shifted back to panther and raced across the room, her own pain forgotten. She grabbed the tiger with her claws, and Tiger Man fought her, completely wild now.

Graham went for Tiger Man’s throat and missed, the tiger landing Graham a spinning blow on the side of his head. Graham staggered, and Tiger Man went after him. But the distraction gave Iona enough time to drag Eric out of the middle of the fight.

Eric’s leopard was in deep pain, his lips pulled back from his teeth in silent agony. His Collar was dormant, but Iona knew the pain came from inside himself.

The humans here had been breeding Shifters to fight for them, Tiger Man had said. No Collars to stop them. But twenty years ago, they’d tried, with Eric, to find a way to control a Shifter with pain.

Iona wasn’t sure if the researchers would consider Eric a success or a failure, but she didn’t care. She knew only that her mate was in pain, and that she’d die if she lost him.

Iona, as her panther, lay down over Eric, desperately trying to warm him with her body. Eric’s eyes had clouded over, and she knew he couldn’t see or hear her. His fur was stifling hot and his heartbeat was way too fast.

A band of iron squeezed Iona’s heart, pain beyond anything she’d felt in her life. If Eric died, she’d die too. She knew that with every breath she took.

No.

She rose, her limbs stiff with fury. Tiger Man was beating down Graham, Graham’s wolf fighting desperately, his black fur covered in blood.

No.

This was what it had been like in the wild, long ago, when Shifters had fought each other to the death for territory, mates, dominance. They’d also fought tooth and claw to protect each other.

Eric was her mate. That meant Iona met any threat to him with violence, and didn’t stop fighting until that threat was dead.

Tiger Man saw that in her eyes. Iona saw in his that he’d been bred to fight until every enemy in his path was slain.

So be it, then. Iona attacked him. Tiger Man met her onslaught, as ready to kill as she was.

Iona would drink of his blood and feast on his bones. She’d scatter his remains throughout her territory as a reminder to all who crossed it what she did to those who threatened the ones she loved.

Iona fought, ripped, bit, pounded. She would kill, and it would feel so good.

“Iona!”

The voice was Graham’s, his harsh, hated wolf’s voice.

Graham would be next. He’d threatened Eric’s leadership, he’d hurt Eric, and he needed to be eliminated. Iona would finish with the tiger, then tear off Graham’s head and lap up his blood.

“Iona, stop!” Graham shouted. “Eric needs you.”

Iona hesitated a split second, and in that second, the tiger got in a blow that stunned her. Iona’s rage returned, and she shifted into her half-human, half-panther form. Kill these males first, help her mate second.

“He’s going to die.” Graham grabbed for her, but Iona spun out of reach. “He needs the touch of a mate. Shit.”

Graham took two rapid steps backward as Iona fixed him with her enraged stare, ready to kill. Then she spun around and drove her claws into the tiger.

“You’re going feral, woman!” Graham yelled at her. “Fight it!”

No. Iona wanted to be wild. Free.

No humans Collaring her, no Shifters telling her what to do. No following rituals and their rules—she’d kill everyone here and race away, no ties to any of them.

Except Eric. She’d take him with her and cure him, and then he’d be hers. No one else would ever touch him again. She’d sequester him in a cave somewhere and have him all to herself. She was an alpha female, and no one and nothing would come between her and her mate and her freedom.

“Holy Goddess, Iona.”

Graham’s voice was like the buzz of an annoying mosquito. She’d swat it down when she was done with the tiger.

Tiger was proving difficult to defeat, but she’d do it in the end. After that, Graham would be nothing.

She heard, dimly, Eric get to his feet. She didn’t have time to rejoice that he was able to do so. Fight first.

Blood. Kill. Defeat.

“Iona.”

Eric’s human voice was weak and full of pain. The pull of it made Iona turn to him, even as the Tiger drew back to strike her down.

Iona saw Eric’s green eyes looking at her down the barrel of a tranq rifle. Before Iona could blink, the rifle popped, and a dart thunked into her chest.

Iona stared at her mate, bewildered, the betrayal hurting more than the pinprick of the dart. “Eric,” she whispered, and then she collapsed.