Sam

I stake out Layne’s apartment before I go in. It’s not dawn yet and I parked several blocks away and crept through the shadows to get here. Leaving her warm and naked in bed nearly killed me, but so does the thought of her suffering because I’ve kept her from her meds.

I keep trying to feel bad about marking her, but I can’t make myself. My wolf is downright cheerful and for the first time—maybe ever—I slept the night without a nightmare.

I didn’t wake once in a sweat, tearing the sheets with my fingers or punching the headboard or walls. It was like what happened in the diner.

Layne calms the madness that brews within me.

So yeah, marking her was an accident and neither of us is in a position to be able to give ourselves to a mate, but I have no regrets.

I’m satisfied with being mated for this short moment in time. To know the utter peace it brought me. The pleasure.

And yes, I’m already talking like it will end, because I know it will.

We both do.

She’s dying and I’m already on borrowed time. I’ll likely be dead by the time I see this thing through with Smyth.

The keys to Layne’s place got lost in our escape attempt, but I wouldn’t have walked in the front door, anyway. She lives in a complex in El Cajon, more like townhouses, than apartments. I pop the screen off a window in the back and jimmy the lock on the window. I smell the lingering scent of human males in her place. So it’s been searched.

One thing I do know—whatever’s going on in these labs, whatever the government’s involvement, they don’t want it known to the public. The testing facility I blew up in Utah was never reported on, and I haven’t seen my photo plastered all over television for my break-in of the California lab, either.

I find her medication in the bathroom and I tuck it in my pocket. I take the time to grab her hairbrush and toiletry bag before I bail. Outside, I catch a scent I don’t like.

Guns.

I go perfectly still in a shadow, stretching my senses out to locate the problem, but all I hear are the sounds of people waking up and moving, birds starting to chirp. I don’t scent another shifter. I wait as long as I dare, but as daylight brightens, the chances of me being seen increase. I slip back into the tree line and jump a few fences to circle back to the van.

I sure as hell hope I wasn’t spotted.

Layne

Sam told me last night that he’d go get my medication in the morning, but I’m still disappointed to wake alone. No, on second thought, I’m glad he’s not here, because my hips and thighs are shaking so badly, it takes me a moment to get my balance.

I check the bite mark in the mirror in the tiny but clean bathroom. It’s just one puncture, not too deep. It stings a little, but the sensation only titillates me. I suppose the pain produces the same kind of happy endorphins released when Sam taped my hands down and spanked me.

A shiver that has nothing to do with my Barrington’s goes through me remembering my incredible lover. So much suffering he’s endured and yet his passion still runs so deep. Last night, every time he started to twitch or growl in bed, I simply laid a hand on his chest or murmured something and his entire body calmed.

I’ve been working so hard to make a difference in the world. I’ve been trying to save the lives of all the countless diseased. But the esoteric satisfaction I always imagined I’d have doesn’t compare to the pleasure of seeing my effect on this one man.

But I’m an idiot if I think we’re going to get a happily ever after. I don’t have a job to go back to, I’m on the run from my employer and possibly the government. There are definitely men who want to kill me.

So I need to do what I’ve always done—study the hell out of the problem until I find a solution. I open up the laptop Sam left to see if I can get my eyes on everything he took from Data-X’s servers.

Including my data.

Sam

I pick up coffee and muffins at Starbucks on the way back to Laurie’s guest studio. Layne jumps when I come in.

She’s sitting on the bed with my computer, apparently trying to guess my password to get in. Good thing she hasn’t been introduced to Kylie, hacker extraordinaire.

I arch a brow. “What are you doing?”

She jumps up and wrings her hands, which fucking guts me. I definitely don’t want her afraid of me. Not when we’ve come this far.

“I wanted to help.”

I set the coffee and muffins down on the bedside table and curl a finger under her chin. Her eyes widen slightly, chest lifts and falls more rapidly. I pick up the faint scent of her arousal, as if being under my scrutiny turns her on. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore, Layne,” I say softly.

She chews the inside of her cheek. “It’s not a lie—not exactly.” Her shoulders sag. “Okay, yes, I did hope to copy my research. But—”

I touch a fingertip to her lips to stop her. “I know your research is important to you, so I promised you we’d find a compromise. Baby, my word is good.”

I notice a slight tremor in her head and neck and immediately dig into my pocket for her meds, kicking myself again for not getting them sooner. “Here, let’s get you back on these.” I hand her the bottle.

Her hands shake as she uncaps the bottle and taps a pill out. I pass her the coffee to swallow it down and take the laptop. With a few keystrokes, I unlock it and get into the Data-X files. I hand it back to her.

It’s my show of faith. She’s put her life in my hands, shown this unhinged, bent on revenge wolf her trust. The least I can do is return it.

Her eyes widen at first and then she smiles. “Thanks. But I really do want to help. What are we looking for?”

“Any clues that will lead us to Smyth.”

“And what makes you think Nash knows something?”

“When I blew the lab in Utah, there was one prisoner. A lion—Nash. He escaped. I figured he was another test subject, like me. But there’s a picture in his file—look—” I point her toward the right folder. “See? That’s Nash with Smyth.” Both men are in military uniform and they look friendly with each other—shaking hands. “From the notes, it sounds like he volunteered for the program. And Nash is mentioned everywhere in the research notes. Something about creating a super shifter race, and Nash will be the Allfather.”

Layne shudders. “That’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know. Total Third Reich bullshit. But I figure he would know something more about Smyth. Or whether there’s a government connection.”

She raises her brows. “You really think the government’s involved?”

I nod. “Yeah. How else do you explain the lack of media coverage of the lab I blew up in Utah? Or the number of military-type personnel working security at your lab?”

“I see what you mean.”

Layne opens another video clip from the breeding program. Nash is with the same female we saw before, only this time, she’s leaving his cage. The camera zooms in on her neck.

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

“What?”

“He mated her.” If what I’m seeing is true, Nash’s animal must be dying to be apart from his mate. “Find the female’s file—her name is Denali Decker.”

Layne navigates to it. I pick up my phone and text Kylie, Read file on Denali Decker. Please help me get a location on her, as well.

I need something to offer Nash, and I think I just found my bargaining chip. If I can help him find his mate, he has to help me take down Smyth.

“So you need Nash to help you get to Smyth. And then what? Why do you want to find Smyth?” Her green eyes study me with concern. She already knows the answer.

My fists clench. “When I find Smyth, I’m going to kill him.” I look away so I won’t have to see Layne’s disapproval.

This is what I need to do. Uncovering the government involvement is important. So is finding Santiago. But if I died taking down Smyth, I’d consider my life complete. He’s the one who caused my personal suffering. I’ve been patiently waiting for my vengeance for a long time.

My phone rings. It’s Declan.

“This is Sam,” I answer.

“Nash agreed to the fight,” Declan says, no preamble. “Two o’clock this afternoon.”

I scoot off the bed and step outside so Layne won’t hear. “I’ll be there.”

“Parker and I don’t think you should do this.”

“I’m doing it.”

“Right, lad.” Declan says before he hangs up. “It’s your funeral.”