Hour of the Lion, Cherise Sinclair [good story books to read TXT] 📗

Her jaw firmed. Her life here was destroyed, and it was her own fault. She‘d taken too long to learn to trust. She couldn‘t blame Calum and Alec— much— she‘d been the one doing all the lying. And Wells had made her look so fucking guilty.

Damn him anyway. She swallowed against the painful knot in her throat. He‘d looked as if…as if he really cared for her. She‘d never looked very hard at the careful roles they‘d played over so many years, but the way he‘d turned on her, so terribly angry, showed he‘d felt betrayed.

Yes, she‘d wounded him…but his return fire had been far more destructive. Fatal, maybe.

Fatal? With the thought, horror blindsided her hard enough that her car skidded on the road.

She fought for control. An oncoming car flashed past as she steadied, hands squeezing the steering wheel. She‘d lost her lifemates, Jamie, her friends. Am I going to go feral now?

What if she turned into some monster Alec would have to kill? She remembered the agonized look in his eyes after he‘d executed his friend, Renshaw.

He was so loving and big-hearted. And the way he looked tonight, filled with such pain and anger and betrayal—she‘d done that to him.

"Oh, Alec," she whispered, "I‘m so, so sorry." Of all the people she could have hurt, why Alec? He‘d never given her anything but joy. And love. Like the other half of her soul, he understood her like no one ever had. In return, she‘d cut him beyond healing.

Surely her loss wouldn‘t turn them feral…but no, they still had each other. And Jamie. Her little Jamie who called her MomVee. Becoming a mother had been like finding a coat hung by the door, just waiting to be slid on. Vic managed a smile and tasted salty tears on her lips. The thought of mothering someone had scared her spitless until she‘d realized Jamie had enough love to forgive any stupid mistakes.

Maybe not enough to get past this. At least Vic hadn‘t had to see the betrayal in the kid‘s eyes. Or had to face Thorson. Would her honorary grandfather spit when he said her name now?

With that fresh pain, she realized she wouldn‘t turn feral. Her ties to others weren‘t gone.

No, the bonds were still there and hurting so much they felt like burning brands on her heart.

Okay, then. She hiccupped a little and increased speed as the taillights in front of her turned left off the main road. Yes, Wells was heading for Vidal‘s place.

Because of her, Wells wouldn‘t have called in back-up or documented anything. He‘d have wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. So all the information he‘d acquired would probably be on his laptop. Convenient. If Vidal‘s damning evidence disappeared, Wells wouldn‘t quit, but he‘d have trouble getting anyone to believe him. After all, he‘d never seen a shifter himself.

Vic sighed and made the turn after Wells. She‘d screwed up, and before she took herself off to somewhere very far away, she‘d do some damage control. She almost laughed. Her life might be in chaos, her heart broken, but the call of duty still sounded like a fucking trumpet. Go figure.

*

Calum‘s rage had died; now only coldness remained. Determination. A sick feeling down deep. It was far easier to kill when the blood was hot. He walked into the section containing the jail cells. Two cells. One occupied. "Swane."

Swane stood. As he looked at Calum, his eyes widened, and he took a step back. "Fuck, man, I only did what he told me to. No need to get all upset. Just promise to let me go, and I‘ll tell you everything you want to know."

Alec locked the station door behind him. He walked over to Calum, standing close enough that their shoulders rubbed. No heat here either, only cold as the cahir said quietly, "Tell us where Vidal is."

*

Wells had pulled off to the side of the tiny dirt road. Good thing she‘d stayed back, Vic thought, as she pulled over quickly. Branches scratched the paint as she inched into the deep brush to hide the patrol car. She got the engine shut off a second before he got out of his car.

A short way ahead, lights glowed from the windows of a one-story building in the middle of nowhere. Vidal had obviously wanted an isolated location where no neighbors could hear penned up shifters. The nearest place was at least several acres away, and the tiny dirt road was private.

Yeah, the city boy had done a fine job of ensuring privacy.

Wells worked his way toward the house slowly, barely visible even to her cat‘s eyes.

After unscrewing the overhead light, she waited. He could scope out the situation first. If Vidal had guards, Wells might as well do her work for her.

She could only hope that this half-assed plan of hers would work. Damn the shifters and their reciprocity crap, but the need to pay back what she owed drove her hard. She‘d definitely bought into their morals, hadn‘t she? Her chest ached as she remembered Jamie‘s solemn face.

“The balance is fair.” Or how Calum had forced Thorson and Baty...

She shook her head furiously. No time for regrets, for grief. She‘d led Vidal and Wells to the Daonain; now she had to remove that danger. Leave emotions behind. This mission is a go.

The car stayed dark as she slid out. From her regular gear and the equipment in the trunk, she assembled a bag of necessities.

She stripped quickly, shivering in the rapidly chilling night air. Only patchy clouds covered the quarter moon in the east. More light than she liked. With a sigh, she tossed her clothes into the back seat and laid the keys behind the front tire.

Okay then. She closed her eyes, opened the mental cat-door, and flung herself through. She wasn‘t a one-toe-in-the-lake sort of girl after all. The eerie tingling covered her skin as if she‘d stepped