Chapter 29
During the deepest dark of the night, Tank came suddenly awake. Lissa was moving restlessly in her sleep, whining like her bear was in pain.
“Shh,” Tank whispered, rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. But she only grew more agitated.
“No,” she groaned. “No. I won’t do it.”
She was having a nightmare. Tank shook her, trying to wake her, but she was still thrashing and muttering, a continuous growl rumbling in her chest.
Oh, hell. This wasn’t a nightmare. It was Brother Damien, somewhere out there, calling her in.
Lissa sat straight up, her eyes wide and unseeing, red flames dancing in them.
She roared out in a deep, gravelly voice, “I hear. I obey.” Then, with a shout, “I come to you!”
With shocking suddenness her bear burst out of her skin, midnight black and furious, her body outlined lined with crimson. The force of her Change knocked Tank off the bed and halfway across the room. He landed on the floor, the wind knocked out of him.
“Lissa!” he wheezed. “Fight him!”
She turned and snarled at him, no recognition in her eyes. With one huge bound, she leaped off the bed and smashed through the big window onto the back porch, shards of glass raining down on the wooden floorboards.
Tank scrambled to his feet and jumped through the window after her. Jagged glass cut into his skin, but he ignored the pain. There was no way he would let that fucker Damien drag her into his sick web of magic and insanity. She’d survived his forced Turning and made a place for herself in this crew. She deserved to belong to no one but herself.
He took a running leap and tackled her just before she got to the woods, begging his bear to stay inside. Bear was raging with the need to kill Brother Damien, to make his crew and his mate safe, but he was too crazy to know what he was doing. He could easily go berserk and kill Lissa by mistake.
In bear form Lissa was bigger than Tank as a human, but not by much. She was sure as hell stronger, though, and had better weapons. Her claws raked down his back, and she snapped at him with her razor-sharp teeth.
He slapped her muzzle away. “Fight it, babe,” he panted. “Make him fuck off and leave you alone. You can do it.”
But she couldn’t. Those red flames still filled her eyes and she fought like a demon, desperate to follow the compulsion Brother Damien was sending to her through their magical bond. More deep, bleeding gashes raked his skin.
He hung on grimly, trying to talk her down, but he was losing too much blood. He felt his skin rippling as Bear tried to rip his way out.
Bones in his arms snapped, even as he fought the Change, and he lost his grip on Lissa’s bear. With a mighty roar, she squirmed out of his grasp and headed for the woods, leaving Tank stumbling after her, still bleeding.
There was no way to catch her in time.
Just as she reached the tree line, there was a soft hiss and a ‘thunk’ from off to his right, and then another. Lissa’s bear staggered, swayed, and went down.
Tank lifted his head and wiped blood out of his eyes. Flynn stood at the corner of the cabin, flanked by Xander and Sloan, a tranquilizer rifle in his hands.
Tank collapsed against a tree, blood running down his body from a dozen wounds. Flynn just shook his head. “Dude,” he said. “Would it have killed you to ask for a little help?”
Xander and Flynn picked up Lissa and carried her to the front of the house, Tank trying to stay within touching distance while at the same time mopping the blood from his quickly closing wounds. When he saw where they were taking her, though, his bear reared up in protest.
“You’re not fucking putting her in the crazy shed,” he snarled.
Flynn pushed his hair back and sighed. “What else are we going to do with her? If Damien can compel her from a distance—and call out her bear whenever he wants—then that lock is the only thing standing between them.”
“I’m standing between them,” Tank spat out.
Flynn shook his head. “I’m not going to make the obvious sarcastic comment about how well that’s worked out so far.”
“You’re not locking my mate up like a fucking zoo animal. Or a science experiment.” They all flinched at that. They’d all been locked up, and they knew the terror and the helplessness.
Flynn snarled, “That’s bullshit. It’s not like that, and you know it. This is for her own safety, and it’s my call, not yours. She’s a member of my crew, so I’m responsible for her. And I’m still alpha here.”
Any other time, Tank would have respected that. But right now, everything was all crazy in his head, and he could hardly hear Flynn over the roars of his bear. “You’re not my alpha,” he snarled back. “And you’re not hers either. Nobody’s pledged to you.”
He could see his words rip through Flynn, but he didn’t have any regret in him. Not now.
“She’s not your mate, either,” Flynn shot back. “You haven’t offered for her, and she hasn’t accepted. But she has accepted my protection, and that means I decide.”
Wild fury ripped through Tank, and he and his bear roared, “Mine!”
His grizzly ripped out of his skin, and he lunged toward Lissa, wanting to drag her off to his den, to protect her at all costs.
Flynn’s lion burst out, his roar shaking the trees. Blue fire crackled around his mane and his front paws, and his alpha energy pressed down on Tank.
But he would not roll over. He would not submit. Lissa was his.
He roared his defiance and lunged again. Flynn leaped at him, hitting Tank with his body and knocking him aside. The panther and the snow leopard were flanking Lissa now, snarling a warning.
“Tank!” Jasmin shouted, the only one still human. “We’re not the enemy. Brother Damien is the enemy!”
Tank scrambled to his feet. Brother Damien. The enemy. He’d claimed Lissa. Without him, she’d be his. He would defeat Brother Damien, and then he could come back and claim his mate.
With a roar of challenge, Tank turned and bounded into the woods, one single thought pounding in his head.
Brother Damien had to die.
Lissa woke with a dull headache and a mouth that tasted like someone had rubbed dried dung inside it. She was lying on a bed of straw, and she was naked.
Her first thought was: I’ve been captured.
Fear raced through her, rendering her breathless. She sat up and looked around, trying to calm herself. Lissa Ramsey does not panic. Lissa Ramsey does not panic.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
She was in a rough wooden shed, about ten by twelve. It must be morning—there was light coming through the narrow, barred windows at the top of the walls.
She crawled to her feet and tried the door. It didn’t budge—it must be bolted from the outside. There were people on the other side of it—she heard faint voices.
Lissa leaned against the door and listened. That was Sloan, talking to Xander. Relief surged through her, and then more fear. They’d locked her in the crazy shed. How long would she have to stay in here? Where was Tank? She couldn’t remember anything after they’d gone to bed last night, except that she’d dreamed about someone calling her.
Brother Damien.
She pounded on the door. “Tank? Where are you? Let me out!”
The voices cut off abruptly, and then she heard footsteps pounding towards the door. Farther away, Sloan yelled, “Flynn! She’s awake! She Changed back!”
She heard the metallic rasp of the key in the padlock, and then the door opened and Xander was standing there. She’d never thought she’d be this glad to see him.
“Hey,” she said. Her throat was raspy, and she was thirsty enough to fill up the giant bathtub in Tank’s bathroom and drink it dry.
“Hey,” Xander said. She could have sworn that an almost-smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “How are you?”
“Thirsty. Headachy. Naked.”
“Right.” He looked around, as if clothing was going to materialize out of thin air. Sloan came running up, carrying a big shirt, which he handed off to her. Lissa put it on gratefully.
“Where’s Tank?” she said, looking past them into the compound.
They exchanged looks, and she suddenly realized they both had assault rifles slung over their backs. Neither of them would meet her eyes.
Her relief turned back into fear. “Why do you have guns? What happened to Tank? Is he okay?”
Flynn appeared behind them. His face looked grim. “He went after Brother Damien last night. He hasn’t come back.”
Lissa’s fear threatened to turn to panic. Fucking stupid grizzly bear. What the hell was he thinking? “Why didn’t you go with him?” she snapped.
“We tried,” Flynn snapped back. “Jasmin followed him, but he got away from her.”
Crazy, brave, stupid grizzly. Why had he gone off alone? What was he thinking?”
Sloan took her arm gently, and Xander bumped her with his shoulder. “He’ll be okay,” he murmured.
They didn’t know that. He could be dead right now, or his bear could have gone rogue. Otherwise, why wasn’t he back by now?
She followed Flynn’s huge back across the yard, her heart icy with fear. It was one thing to keep calm when it was her in trouble. She could focus on the situation, strategizing, watching for opportunities to get herself out of it.
It was another thing when it was the man she loved, and she didn’t even know if he was dead or alive.
Suddenly, as they neared the porch steps, pain lanced through her head like her skull had been split with an ax. She stumbled and went to her knees.
Pain. Terror. Rage.
Tank was standing against a tall cliff, his wrists chained so that he was splayed out against the rock wall. Blood dripped down his body from half a dozen long, thin cuts. Some were closing, others looked fresh.
Brother Damien walked up to him, carrying a knife with a blade made of crimson flame. He drew it across Tank’s ribs. Fiery red light emanated from it like a laser beam, opening another cut. Tank snarled at him, but there was no sound. Lissa’s ribs burned like fire, as if the magical blade had pierced her own flesh.
Her bear rose up inside her. Hunt. Kill. Destroy.
Fuck, yeah.
Brother Damien’s voice spoke in her head.
Come to me, Lissa. You belong to me—you always have, you always will. If you come now, I won’t kill him. Come willingly, come alone, and I’ll let him live.
“Lissa? Lissa?” Someone was shaking her. It was Sloan. Flynn was on his knees in front of her, forcing her head up, and Xander was holding her up from behind.
“I’m okay,” she croaked. “I just got a mental psycho-gram, that’s all.”
The others exchanged glances. “Damien’s still communicating with you?” Flynn asked.
Still?
“What happened last night?” she asked.
“Inside,” Flynn said shortly.
They helped her the rest of the way into the house, sat her on the couch and got her some water. Jasmin was curled up on one of the couches, eating a plate of eggs and looking exhausted.
“Brother Damien tried to compel you last night, from somewhere outside the compound,” Flynn told her, standing by the stone fireplace and leaning one elbow on the mantel. “He forced you to Change, and we had to trank you. Tank’s bear went wild and took off to find him.”
“He took to the river to mask his trail. That’s where he lost me,” Jasmin said. “His bear’s not thinking straight—he thinks everyone is trying to keep him away from you, including us. My guess is that he’s trying to eliminate Brother Damien first, as the greatest threat. The best we can hope for is that Tank doesn’t find him.”
“Too late,” Lissa said, the image of Tank being tortured playing over and over in her mind’s eye. “Brother Damien found him.”