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

He took recordings of the transformations." Well‘s lips turned up. "Keeps them on his laptop."

Holy fuck. Wells had documentation. "He‘s keeping all that information to himself? Why not give it to the National Inquirer for some big bucks?"

"His motivation is unclear at the moment. He‘s focused only on how the creatures are created."

"He doesn‘t sound sane, sir," she said lightly. If the information was still in one place, the shifters could destroy it. Calum needed to hear—

"Did you know the young man—the one who turned into a mountain lion—was captured nearby?"

Fingers of ice closed around her spine. "In Cold Creek?"

"That‘s why Mr. Vidal is holed up not far away. I intend to pay him a visit later tonight to discuss his recordings." Wells looked her straight in the eyes. "Do you want to tell me again why you‘re here, Sergeant?"

Don"t do this, she wanted to say. "Because my life is here. I fell in love, married, quit the service, you know how it goes." She pushed to her feet. "And speaking of new lives, I need to get back to work."

"Gone over to the enemy?" he asked softly. "Would you like a charge of treason added to all your medals?"

The slash was quick and brutal. "I‘m no traitor, dammit!"

"Then tell me about these animals. How many are there? How are they created?"

Created? Did he think some evil scientist had made them? She wanted so badly to give him the truth. She couldn‘t. "I don‘t—"

"You‘re lying, Morgan." His voice had gone flat, his eyes icy—he‘d never looked at her like that before. "I‘d never have believed you would betray your country—or me. I loved—" He broke off his sentence, breathed out harshly.

The pain surged all through her, hurting more with every pump of her heart. How could she lose him like this? After her first assassination, he‘d showed up at her apartment. Ignored her shaking hands, her teary eyes. Stayed up all night with her, drinking coffee. Just being there.

He‘d always been there. Guilt shriveled her spirit.

"Vicki," he said softly. "Have you seen these creatures?"

A tried and true technique. Slam the subject over the head, induce guilt, be their friend again. She searched for some answer to give him, and then simply shook her head. "Sorry, sir. I haven‘t seen any creatures."

All the life drained from his face, and his blade-like voice hacked bloody pieces from her soul as he said, "They‘re monsters, Sergeant. However they‘re created. You get me the information I need so we can hunt them down, and there‘ll be a medal for you." His voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. "Otherwise you‘ll have your discharge, Morgan. A dishonorable one."

She stared at him, her jaw clenched. Dishes crashed behind her, the sound mimicking the shattering of her heart. I"m sorry, sir. Trying to find enough air to speak, she inhaled…and caught a scent. She turned.

Alec and Calum stood in the doorway.

*

"They‘re monsters, Sergeant. However they‘re created. You get me the information I need so we can hunt them down, and there‘ll be a medal for you." For the first time in his life, Alec cursed a shifter‘s hearing as the blood in his veins turned to ice. His heart slowed, each thud painful. His chest was squeezed too tightly to inhale.

Surely he‘d misunderstood what the man had said. Surely she‘d been misleading the human.

Alec looked at Vicki and his hope disintegrated. Guilt showed clearly in her shocked face, her horrified eyes as she stared at him and Calum. Her color drained away.

"Vicki?" He couldn‘t feel his lips, but the word escaped anyway.

She‘d lied to them, to him. Lied and lied and lied.

Knowing his brother had frozen, Calum stepped in front of him. Victoria‘s face was white, her eyes wide, the scent of her anger mingling with…guilt.

Guilt. What kind of traitor had they harbored in their midst? The man‘s words " hunt them down” hovered in the room like the vultures had hovered over his wife‘s body. Demon.

Monsters. “Hunt them down.”

Calum shook his head, trying to escape the images, as his fears and memories mingled into a terrifying brew: Thorson holding his bloody shoulder, Angie with open staring eyes, Lenora…so cold, all life fled, Alec torn apart like so much meat, Lachlan lifeless on a steel table, his Jamie…

Calum choked, drowning in horror.

Burning with fury at this female he‘d thought he knew, who he‘d brought into his home, trusted with his daughter. Loved. And all the time, she‘d been setting them up as prey for Lachlan‘s killers.

"Calum—I—" the human female called Victoria held her hands out to him. She met his gaze and flinched, taking a step back. "I didn‘t. I didn‘t, Calum."

Hunt them down. A medal. The growl boiled up from inside him and as it escaped, so did his control. Wildness filled his soul, pulling at him, trying to change him into the beast.

Alec‘s hand closed on his arm. "Steady, brawd."

She looked at his brother. "Alec? I never—I didn‘t tell him."

Alec raggedly asked, "You‘re not a spy for the government?"

The question struck her like a blow, and she took a step back.

The sound Alec made was that of a mortally wounded animal.

As Calum scented his brother‘s despair, the door in his mind burst open. The mountain seemed to shake under his feet. Claws sprouted from his fingers.

"Dammit, get out of here before he kills you." Alec‘s words were hoarse as he yanked Calum against his chest.

Everything blurred. As Calum fought the trawsfur, he barely heard Alec‘s grief-threaded whisper, "And Herne help me, so will I."

"No," Vic whispered. This couldn‘t be happening.

Calum‘s face had distorted with anger, his eyes black as the pits of hell. Snarling…like a maddened animal. The tingle of shifting was strong in the air. He‘d kill her. As furious as he was, he wouldn‘t be able to stop, and he‘d tear her to bits.

Alec struggled with his brother. His last look at her had held only anger—none of the love, the tenderness.

When someone grabbed her arm and spun her around,