Mate Claimed
“Where did you take him?” Iona asked.
“Las Vegas Police Department,” Reid said. “Processing cell.” He closed his hands on the woman’s shoulders, and then they were gone.
“Huh,” Graham said. “Good sense of humor, for a Fae.” He looked around the room. “So they brought the blood and tissue samples from my wolves here?”
“Maybe egg and sperm samples too,” Iona said. “If they’re trying to breed Shifters.”
“Shit.”
Graham strode to the cooling cabinets, ripped one open, and started throwing the test tubes to the floor. They shattered, whatever agar preserved the samples oozing out and mixing with the broken glass.
The tiger Shifter watched Graham a moment, then he walked to the next glass cabinet and tipped it over, without bothering to open it. The resounding crash was satisfying, and Graham gave triumphant cheer.
“You all right?” Iona came back to Eric, her hands warm on his arms, her blue eyes soft with worry.
“Much better. The mate bond is helping.”
“The mate bond,” she said. “Cassidy told me about that. She said it was magic.”
Eric cradled Iona’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. “Whatever it comes from, it’s filling me. It’s making me know I love you.”
He saw the hunger in her eyes. “I love you.” She touched his face. “I never knew—I never thought I could love like this.”
“The Goddess must have known. I’m glad she did.”
Around them, crashes sounded, along with the satisfied growls of two Shifters enjoying themselves. Eric slid his arms around Iona. “I love you. I’m going to keep saying that because I like hearing it. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Iona smiled as she leaned into the warm curve of his body. “I wish we were home.”
“Soon, love. And then, we won’t come out for days.”
Graham looked around at them. “Will you two take it out of here? Your pheromones are making me crazy.”
He’d strapped the tranq rifle across his back while he found and broke things. The tiger ignored them all while he swept his arms over the lab benches and punched the glass out of the hoods. He finally looked happy.
“Watch him,” Eric said to Graham.
“Don’t worry. I’m on it.”
Eric craved Iona with his entire body, but he knew that would have to wait. “We need to search the rest of the floors.”
“Yes,” Iona said. “Unfortunately.”
But later, when he had her home…
Eric fixed what they needed into a pack around his waist, then they walked together, hand in hand, to the stairwell, where Eric had the pleasure of watching Iona remove her clothes again. Then they shifted to their wildcats and descended to see what they could find.
An hour later, Reid, back on the roof, alerted Eric that Kellerman had arrived.
Eric and Iona had found little downstairs—the rooms hadn’t been used for years. Fortunately they found no more victims of the researchers’ experiments, no more captive Shifters. The researchers had used the top floor, the lowest basement, and Cassidy’s room, and that was it.
Reid’s message was to the point. “He’s here.”
“Go down and tell Graham.” Eric flipped the phone closed, his heart beating in rage and anticipation. He looked at Iona, who returned the look with the same anger in her eyes. “Let’s go meet him.”
Kellerman headed up, not down when he walked into the building. He took the one working elevator to the top floor and emerged, a semiautomatic in his hand.
Eric’s half-leopard beast twisted the pistol away.
Kellerman’s eyes widened, and he tried to leap back into the elevator, but Eric grabbed him by the collar and jerked him forward as the elevator doors closed. Iona stepped behind Kellerman and checked his pockets for more weapons, relieving him of his phone and a magazine of bullets.
Iona had resumed her clothes upon arriving on the top floor, but Eric and Graham had left theirs far away in the desert. Kellerman gave them a contemptuous look.
“I have backup coming,” he said. He tried to sound unworried, but he couldn’t conceal the tremor in his voice as he took in the ruined lab, the floor a river of broken glass.
“We’ll be long gone before they get here,” Eric said.
Graham aimed the tranq rifle at Kellerman. “I have backup too. Except I don’t know his name.” He whistled, and Tiger Man stepped from behind the pile of wreckage that used to be a lab table.
Kellerman’s face drained of color. “You let him out?”
“He looked unhappy,” Iona said. “So I opened the cage.”
“But he’s dangerous. He could kill us all.”
“Why?” Iona asked. “He’s only a Shifter.”
“No, he isn’t.” Kellerman wet his lips. “He’s a programmed Shifter. He’s been coded to kill. To fight the enemy and not stop until that enemy is destroyed.”
“Oh.” Iona looked ill. “So you didn’t only breed him, you also messed with his DNA?”
“I didn’t,” Kellerman said. “The people who ran this facility before me did. They were brilliant. They blended genetics from animals, humans, and other Shifters to create the perfect Shifters, but ones obedient to human wills. The perfect fighting machines. Military weapons. They imagined whole armies of them.”