The long, bloody wounds across Mack’s chest were deep, but not fatal. One of the blessings of metamorph physiology was that an injured morph could accelerate his healing process by changing from one form to the other. The cell divisions involved in changing were regenerative, rapidly knitting and closing wounds. In a couple of shifts a morph could usually expect to be as good as new.
That, however, did not mean that the ripped and torn flesh was not painful. Sitting up shirtless on the sofa in Justin and Suzanne’s hotel suite, Mack could not help but wince both from lingering pain and from the sheer ordeal of having been mauled by the creature that Mariah Porter had become.
Justin poured a glass of bourbon from the suite’s bar and took it to Max, and pulled up a chair facing him. After what he’d been through today—and what he dreaded he might yet have to go through—Justin had needed a belt himself, and had taken one before pouring another for his assistant. That scream was the last thing he’d heard from Suzanne. The next thing he knew, he was receiving a text saying, Meet me tonight. Our place. I’ll tell you when. That, Justin was sure, had come from Suzanne’s phone, but not from Suzanne herself. That was from Mariah.
He had managed to pinpoint the location of the phone just before the signal went dead. Justin left the convention center as if demons were nipping at his heels and headed for that parking garage in the shopping district, where he found only an injured and bloodied Mack, who had managed to drag himself into the Jag and text him for help. The bill for cleaning the leather upholstery of the car meant nothing to Justin. Of far graver concern was Mack’s condition—and the condition of Suzanne’s phone, lying broken and crushed on the blood-stained concrete after that last text was sent.
Taking the wheel of the Jag, Justin had gotten himself and Mack back to the hotel and back to the suite, which was where they found themselves now, pondering what to do next—and fearing for Suzanne.
As Mack took a gulp of the bourbon, which would ease his pain but burn completely out of his system the next time he morphed, Justin sized up their situation.
“I called the guys you used to work with up here,” Justin said. “They’re sending us a couple of your old friends.”
“Bringing in Meta Security was a good call. They’ll do what you need to have done and they’ll do it quietly—no police,” Mack nodded. “We don’t want the Ambrosian City PD in on this. Mariah might panic. That could be bad news for Suzanne.”
“The only good news for Suzanne, damnit,” Justin agreed, “is that she’s not the one Mariah really wants. Damn vindictive bitch. Why the hell did she have to go after Suzanne? She hates me for dumping her, I get it. She could have just called me out. She didn’t have to bring Suzanne into it.”
“Yes, she did, boss,” said Mack. “Snatching Suzanne makes sure she gets you right where she wants you. Suzanne, in business talk, is ‘leverage’.”
“This is not business, goddamnit! This is my fucking LIFE!” Justin snapped. As soon as the hot, furious retort was out of his mouth, Justin clamped up just as quickly, seeing Mack’s startled and stung look in response. Mack was not only Justin’s assistant, helper, and employee. He was one of the few truly good friends Justin had.
“I’m sorry, boss,” Mack said softly.
Justin touched him on the shoulder, comfortingly. “No, Mack. No…I’m sorry. I don’t speak to you that way. I shouldn’t have. It’s just…this isn’t a deal and it’s not morph politics. This is personal. I’ve never been that good at personal things. I think…this must be the first time in my whole life that it’s really, really personal.”
“I can tell,” said Mack. “I’ve never seen you the way you’ve been since you started seeing Suzanne. I know what she means to you. It’s not just what goes on in bed this time, you and her…is it?”
“No, Mack,” replied Justin, as softly as Mack’s apology. “Not this time. And the whole thing…in a way it’s ironic as hell.”
“Because of who Suzanne is, you mean?”
“You know about her, then.”
“I know. And I don’t judge. And if I can say so…yes, it is ironic. Because it was supposed to be business with her, like everything else.”
“Even if it wasn’t…’business’…this would have me scared out of my wits. She’s not leverage. She’s not a bargaining chip. She’s a person, Mack. A person with feelings and a mind and dreams and…” He trailed off. “You know, it’s hard as hell for me to admit this, but I’ve always treated the people who work for me like people, and the women I’ve slept with like something disposable. My whole life it’s been these throwaway women.
Maybe it’s all catching up to me now—because Suzanne started out working for me and she’s become more than that, and more than anyone else I’ve ever known. If Mariah does anything to her, I don’t know what I’ll do.” He paused, then, with a hardness in his face and his voice, he said, “Wrong. I know exactly what I’ll do. I’ll kill the bitch. I’ll rip her to shreds. And then…,” he lowered his head, “…then I don’t know how I’ll go on. It’s been just a short while with Suzanne, but…I don’t know who I’d be without her. Goddamnit, Mack, this is the first time in my life—the only time—that I’m not just getting laid.”
“We’ll get her back, Justin,” Mack said.
“We’d better,” Justin replied. “Or I just don’t know…”
The ringing of his phone made Justin feel as if he could leap out of his human skin and into his bear skin. Instead he leaped from his seat, grabbed the phone from his pocket, and answered. “Justin Gates!”
“Hello, darling,” said the female voice on the other end; the voice that Justin knew, which had called his name with such rapture and ardor for so many nights in his bed. It was a hated memory now, a memory that he would tear from his life if he could. “I hope you don’t mind me taking your number from your new…’friend’s’…phone. But it’s good to hear your voice again.”
“Mariah,” Justin demanded, “put Suzanne on. Let me talk to her. Is she all right? So help me, if you’ve done anything to her…”
“I haven’t done anything to her,” she said with a hint of menace. “Or much of anything, anyway. She’s alive and well, maybe just a little sore. You know how women get when you’re rough with them.”
Justin could sense the bitter, vicious smile that Mariah must have been making at this very moment, using the memory of his hard, intense screwing as an evil taunt. He wanted to do to Mariah what she did to Suzanne’s phone.
“Let me talk to her!” he demanded again.
“You can talk to her when you see her—when you come to see me. You know where I’ll be, of course.”
“I know. I’ll be there; I can leave now. And she’d better not be hurt, Mariah, or…”
“Just come alone,” she cut him off. “Just you. No Mack—I’m sure dear Mack has healed up nicely from our reunion; don’t bring him. All I want to see is you. All I want now is a reunion for you and me. Just a chance for the two of us to catch up. And we do have quite a bit to catch up about.”
“I’ll bet,” Justin half-growled.
“Then get yourself, and only yourself, over here, darling. Suzanne and I are waiting. We’re both so eager to see you again.”
Without another word, Mariah ended the call.
Justin lowered the phone and looked over at Mack, who sat anxiously on the edge of the sofa. He squeezed the phone in his hand, wishing it were Mariah’s neck.
“Well?” asked Mack.
“Are you better?” Justin asked in return.
“I’m getting there,” Mack replied.
“Then get dressed, and you and your friends get into position. We’re doing this.”