Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1 (27 page)

No shit. Warrick slid an arm protectively around Sienna’s waist and she leaned into him immediately.

“Looks like that officer showing up here was no coincidence and someone likely sent him,” Quinton continued. “The same someone who just shot up the house.”

“I’d like to know who in the hell blew our location,” Agent Hilliard muttered, joining Quinton in his cleanup.

So did Warrick. An officer showing up had the slight chance of being a coincidence, but an ambush couldn’t be as easily dismissed.

Quinton shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now, boys. What matters is that we get the hell out of here within the next hour, before they come back with help to finish what they started. Sun’s gone down and pretty soon we’ll have the cover of darkness to aid in our escape.”

“Where’s our rendezvous point?” Hilliard asked.

Quinton glanced at Warrick. “Boston.”

Warrick stilled, but was careful not to show his surprise. So Quinton wasn’t just sending him and Sienna alone, but all the agents as well.

“What the hell’s in Boston?” Rafferty muttered.

Hilliard grunted. “We going to the P.I.A. office there?”

“My father?” Sienna asked hopefully.

There was a moment’s silence as Quinton looked at Sienna. “Yeah. Your father.”

Warrick could sense her relief by the hot puff of air she exhaled against his neck, and the way her body seemed to go weak against his.

“I’m going to contact HQ and have them set up a direct flight tomorrow morning,” Quinton began. “But for tonight, there’s another safe house not far from the airfield. We need to move everyone, including the ferals, over there. It’s not going to be as nice a place, and there’s going to be a helluva lot less room.” He turned to Rafferty. “Call Larson, he’s off following up on the officer we wiped, and let him know what’s up.”

“I’m on it.” Rafferty plucked his cell from his black jeans and strode out of the room.

Quinton turned back to Sienna and Warrick. “Get ready. We’re leaving within the hour.”

“The hit on the safe house failed.”

Robert ducked just in time to avoid getting hit by the marble paperweight. Instead it crashed into the wall of her office behind him, leaving a sizeable dent.

Damn. Jocelyn swallowed her bitter disappointment that the object hadn’t hit him in the head. Was it possible to find a less capable man?

“We tried, my love,” he sputtered, folding his hands in front of his face as he scrambled toward the door, likely fearing another attack.

“How could you fail!” she seethed, striding after him. “I wanted everyone dead except her. But there’s no one dead. Not one. How could you screw this up? We knew exactly where they were—even had the element of surprise.”

Robert shook his head quickly. “These men—shifters—they move so much faster than us. They’re always one step ahead.”

“First the police officer we tipped off came out saying they weren’t there—how the hell the P.I.A. pulled that off I’d love to know! And now this. You’re worthless! You and your little lackeys.” She fisted her hands and unfisted them, turning away from him to pace the floor. But not before she’d seen the flicker of hurt in her lover’s face.

Irritation had her biting back a snarl. Robert knew better than to look at her to be a lover that coddled him. In the bedroom she often let him take charge, but when it came to business there was no question about who wore the pants. And he’d known exactly whom he’d taken into his bed three years ago when they’d jumped from business associates to lovers. And she wasn’t about to start playing nice right now—especially with what was at stake.

Everything was spiraling out of control. Far too quickly.

“Did you discover anything about our man inside the agency?” she asked tightly. “Did you see him at the safe house?”

“At one point, yes, and he seems quite allied with the P.I.A.” Robert sighed. “Trust me, if we’d had a clear shot I would’ve taken him out myself.”

“See that you do. I’m done with his bullshit. The bastard thinks he can take my money and run with the shifters. Let him die with the rest of his friends.”

Footsteps sounded, before Robert’s hands descended onto her shoulders, attempting to rub the tension out of her tight muscles.

Her thoughts slid away, back to the idea she’d had earlier. The one she knew was their biggest chance. It all centered around who Sienna’s father was, and just exactly how he might be of use in Jocelyn’s planned destruction of the shifters.

God she hated them. Hated what they’d done so many years ago. It was said time healed all wounds, but time had only made hers fester. Bubble with a bitterness and desire for revenge. And she was so close. So very close.

“We will find Sienna and hopefully even the jump drive,” Robert soothed.

Any attempt at relaxing slipped away and her teeth smashed together. Jocelyn slid away from his impromptu massage and turned to face him.

“You’re damn right we’ll find her. But we’re going to have to change plans. Again.”

Sienna swallowed the unshakeable sense of unease as she strode across the tarmac toward the small jet. The roaring of the engines made conversation impossible between her and the agents who flanked her. The tension between Warrick and Agent Hilliard wasn’t what it was yesterday, but it hadn’t completely disappeared.

Which was ridiculous. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that it made their little fight in the woods seem like two little boys throwing a tantrum.

She’d been hoping to have some alone time last night with Warrick, but once they’d arrived at the new safe house she’d been sent off to her own room.

At first it had stung, but then she’d accepted that it was probably for the best because once her head had hit the mattress she’d passed out early and slept hard through the night. She’d woken to find that half the men had never even gone to sleep—and the other half were on their way to the airport.

“Let me make sure it’s clear,” Hilliard yelled from in front of her, and climbed the stairs to board the jet.

Sienna glanced through her lashes over at Warrick. His attention wasn’t on her though, but instead skated around the area as if seeking out any unseen dangers.

Did they really think someone was hiding in the cabin of the plane or nearby, ready to attack? Though after yesterday, it seemed entirely possible.

“All clear.”

At Hilliard’s words she gripped the handle and started up the steps. She felt Warrick close behind her, and when her foot slipped his arm went around her waist to steady her. Her stomach did little somersaults and her pulse quickened.

“You okay?” His concerned question caressed her ear with warm breath.

“Fine. I’m fine.” She gave a jerky nod and continued up the rest of the steps.

Agent Hilliard stood at the front of the plane and gestured for her to go inside. She gave him a brief smile as she stepped past him. She chose a seat in the first row, fastening herself in before glancing around. The seats were wide and spacious, with only a couple dozen rows or so on a plane that could’ve held a few times that many.

It seemed almost ostentatious that the P.I.A. owned and operated a private jet. But then they likely invested in a plane for practicality more than lavishness. And the ability to keep the kind of organization that the P.I.A. was quiet probably took major money.

Warrick sat down in the seat next to her and fastened himself in. “Sorry we didn’t have the chance to grab breakfast this morning. There should be something to snack on during the flight.”

“I’m not hungry,” she murmured.

Food was the last thing on her mind. Even though she’d slept well, the time she’d spent awake had been used to fret over why her dad wasn’t answering the phone and why Warrick hadn’t shared a room with her.

Warrick sighed. “You need to eat something, Sienna. Jesus, I don’t think we even fed you dinner last night.”

“She’s a grown woman, Donovan.” Hilliard grinned as he walked by them, down the aisle toward the back of the plane. “If she says she’s not hungry, let her be.”

Oh shit. Sienna held her breath when Warrick’s fists clenched and his expression darkened. Those two really needed to call a truce.

“How long do you think the flight will be?” she asked, hoping to distract him.

Warrick grunted. “Five hours, maybe? I’m sure the pilot will give us the details soon enough.”

She glanced out the window and over the runway, trying to figure out where they were exactly. It had to be a smaller airfield in Oregon, because this obviously wasn’t Portland International.

“Where’s everybody else?” she asked.

“The ferals are being loaded into the cargo area. Other agents will be boarding soon.”

She nodded, twisting her fingers together. “You haven’t heard anything from my father yet, have you?”

“Oh, damn. Yes.” Warrick grimaced. “Shit, Sienna. I meant to tell you this morning, but got caught up with things. He called us early this morning, before you were awake.”

He’d called? Her father was fine? Relief slammed through her and Sienna collapsed back against the seat, letting out a shaky sigh. She hadn’t realized just how worried she was until Warrick had uttered those words.

“Thank God. He’s okay then?” she whispered.

“He’s doing good. Said he lost his cell phone for a couple of days.” Warrick shifted in his seat to glance at her. “He wants us to meet him at his house and then he’ll look at the information on the jump drive.”

Sienna’s fingernails bit into the leather armrests. “So then you told him I have the jump drive?”

“Of course. He’s caught up to speed on what’s going on.” Warrick’s mouth tightened. “But apparently he already spoke to you. You seemed to forget to mention the fact that you snuck in a phone call to him the night we arrived at the safe house.”

Her cheeks flushed with guilt and she gave a small nod. “You’re right. I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know whom to trust, and I knew I needed his help…”

“I wish you’d known you can always trust me, Sienna.” He caught her hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “Now more than ever.”

Now more than ever
? What exactly did he mean by that? Did he mean because they’d slept together?

“And I suspect that the phone call you made to your dad,” he continued before she could ask what he’d meant, “is how whoever is looking for you figured out where you were. Where we all were. If they have your cell phone number and know someone who can get access to your records, they can trace the last tower your call bounced off of.”

Sienna’s stomach clenched and she felt the blood drain from her face. She’d led them right to her and because of it they’d been attacked. Someone could’ve easily been killed.

“I didn’t even think. I’m sorry…” She shook her head and groaned. “Who are these people?”

“We’ve been digging around, seeing if it could be someone outside the laboratory. But all signs point to someone within.”

Sienna frowned, the knot in her stomach growing bigger. “But it was so secretive. That building by all signs should’ve been abandoned. And Feloray Laboratories has a stellar reputation.”

Warrick’s fingers brushed the tops of her knuckles in a soothing gesture. “It could be a rogue employee who discovered our existence. Knew about the abandoned building on the premises and decided to use it.”

“Maybe.”

But something still felt off about it. Sienna fidgeted with the moon charm on her bracelet and tried to think of who else could possibly have been behind the captivity of the shifters.

“I’m amazed you still have that. That you wear it,” he said softly, and caught the moon charm between two long, calloused fingers.

Her pulse skipped and she ran her tongue over her lip as she stared down at him holding the delicate charm. Now, knowing what Warrick was, she had to wonder if it had been his way of telling her what he was when he’d given it to her.

Not that he was an outright werewolf—God, did those exist too?—but still, wolves often got associated with a full moon. Or did they? Maybe she was just looking for any reason to believe that in his own way Warrick had tried to tell her over the years.

“Sienna,” he said softly.

She lifted her gaze to his, but found his attention on her neck. To the place where he’d bitten her so erotically yesterday. The heat in his eyes mixed with a somberness that had her breath catching. The marks seemed to heat and throb under his scrutiny.

Reaching out, he caught a handful of her hair in his hand and wove his fingers through the strands. Then, almost as if he were trying to cover the marks, he arranged it so her hair fell over her shoulder and curved just above her breasts.

“Sienna,” he continued, his voice husky now. “There’s something you need to—”

“All right, people.” Quinton jogged up the steps and stepped into the cabin. “We’re taking off in ten minutes. Shut up, buckle up, and enjoy the flight.”

Damn the man and his timing. Sienna glared at Quinton, before trying to catch Warrick’s attention again, but he’d jerked away from her and stared straight ahead at the cockpit.