The Man Within (4 page)

She screamed out in fury as her flesh protested the grip on her arms, the sweaty male bodies surrounding her. She dropped the bag and her purse as she began to claw, to fight.

“Tell us, Veronica, who is he? And what’s it like to be mated to an animal?”

Fractured voices, raised in both protest and demand, echoed around her as she kicked out at the journalists, clawed at the hands holding her, fighting desperately to be free, to escape.

She was unaware she was crying, unaware of the camera catching every whimper, each hoarse scream that echoed around her. Her vision was dazed, blurred by fear and fury and the overwhelming instinct to fight.

Roni heard the material of her shirt ripping as she finally tore free of the rough hands holding her. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t look back, she just ran. She didn’t know in which direction she was moving, didn’t know where to go, who to run to. Her only thought was escape.

“Roni.” John O’Brien’s voice ripped through the panic as she passed the side of the store. “The truck. Back here.” He waved her over frantically, his face pale, his light blue eyes glittering with fury. “Son of a bitch leeching reporters. Come on.”

The crowd was surging behind them as he threw open the door to the parts truck and she jumped inside. She pulled the panel shut, locking it as several cameras and microphones were thrust against the windows.

The heavy truck jerked as John slammed it in gear, lurched and began moving forward as reporters and hungry curiosity seekers attempted to block it.

“I’ll run over your damned asses,” John yelled out, his usually pale face flushed with anger, his red hair standing on end as he swiped his fingers through it and pressed his foot to the gas.

They bumped over a curb, tore through several yards and a pristine fence that enclosed the insurance offices.

“Son of a bitch, there goes my policy,” John cursed, though excitement sizzled in his voice as he took a narrow alley, the truck increasing in speed, tires screaming as he turned on to one of the back roads that led out of town. “You okay?”

She stared back at him, confused, shaking, her stomach rioting with fear as she shook her head and blinked over at him. What the hell had happened? Her skin was still burning from the unfamiliar touches of the men who had held her, protesting the contact, screaming out for Taber.

She shook her head, fighting for a semblance of control. Dear God. They knew. Reginald had wasted no time at all in selling her out, she thought.

“Take me home.” She winced at the hoarse sound of her voice, the pain that was reflected in it. “I need to go home.”

“They’ll be waiting there, Roni,” he told her softly as the truck’s motor surged, pushing the vehicle up a steep road that wound around the cliffs outside town. “You need to hide for a while, figure out what you’re gonna do.”

“Going to do?” she whispered brokenly as she rubbed at her arms, trying to free her flesh of the remembered feel of another’s touch. Dear God, what was she going to do? Her father had moved faster than she expected. He had to have already sold her out before showing up at the house.

She couldn’t go home. John was right. They would find her there. They would invade the house. There was no way she could hide from them. But what else was left?

“I know a place,” John finally sighed. “You’ll be safe there for a while, if they don’t catch up with us before we get there. Everything’s going to be okay, Roni, at least until we can contact Callan. And you know you have to contact him.”

He flashed her a hard, demanding look. His eyes still gleamed with the rush of the chase, adrenaline glittering in his gaze.

No, it wasn’t Callan she had to call, Roni thought. It wasn’t his fault. It was Taber’s and by God, Taber would pay. Her hands clenched as fury surged through her, nearly as hot as the arousal that often left her weak and helpless. If she managed to get her hands on him she would kill him. And her senseless, mercenary father would be the next one to go.

Chapter Three

Taber rolled his shoulders as the late spring rays of the sun speared through the window behind him, soaking through the cloth of his shirt and heating the flesh beneath. It was the next best thing to being outside, and all he could allow himself for the moment.

Being trapped within the confines of the mansion the Feline Pride now lived in shouldn’t have been considered a hardship. Spacious though it was, the walls seemed to close in on him, the confinement pricking at his mind, reminding him of things best left forgotten. And as always, when he sought to escape the memories of his creation and his time spent confined in labs, tested, poked and prodded, his thoughts went to her. Deep blue eyes, skin as soft and silky as a dream, the heat of her arousal burning through his mind.

Roni. In the past few weeks, thoughts of her had been stronger than ever before. His need for her was only growing rather than diminishing, as he thought it would. And that worried him. He knew many of the details of Callan’s mating with Merinus. Knew the signs. He had carried those symptoms for over a year, just not as extreme, not as strong. But then, he hadn’t kissed his mate. He hadn’t allowed the potent hormone to release into her body in the same way.

If she was his mate, then she carried his mark. Not once in the months that had passed before his move from Sandy Hook, had he been close enough to her again to remember if the slight, never-healing wound marred the flesh of her shoulder. Not that he would have been looking for it. But getting close to her had been impossible.

She didn’t talk to him. If she saw him coming she went the other way. If he caught her gaze then fury lit hers, sparkling with female ire as he tried to sort out the cause of her anger. Hadn’t he honored her wish that he leave her be? He hadn’t called her, hadn’t visited her. He didn’t speak if he happened to pass her. What right did she have to be angry? What right did he have to care? Surely if he had marked her, some signs would be apparent. Hell, Merinus had been in such pain during the early phase of it that if Doc Martin hadn’t suspected its cause, they would have likely had to hospitalize her.

Taber had always kept up with news on Roni. She had shown no unusual illnesses, nor had the records he had checked months before shown any hospitalizations. Yet his body ached for her. Ached in ways that left him frustrated and irritable, barely able to keep his mind on the job he should be doing, rather than worrying about the woman he wanted to do.

As he turned his gaze back to the readout in front of him, the office door burst open.

“Turn on the news.” Sherra rushed into the large office Callan and Taber shared within the mansion the Genetics Council had once owned. The one-hundred-and-fifty acre estate in the mountains of Virginia had been deeded to the Feline Breeds, with Callan and Taber named as overseers for the time being until a Pride governorship could be formed. Which would be years down the road, they figured.

Taber looked up from the computer printout he had been reading as Sherra snagged the television remote and turned on the large plasma screen television that hung from the opposite wall. Irritation flashed across his senses at the disturbance.

They had three reports of yet more Feline Breeds coming in, but even more disturbing were the reports of other various Breeds that had been created. Tracking down the rumors and basing them in fact was a tedious process. Reading through the odd codes the Council soldiers used and the myriad transmissions they were catching was even harder. He didn’t have time for another news report.

The picture that flashed across the screen froze everything inside him, though. The eager eyes and excited voice of the journalist chilled the blood in his veins. But the face of the woman had a growl rumbling in his chest.

“Veronica Andrews, part time mechanic and accountant in Sandy Hook, who also carries the mark of the creatures known as the Feline Breeds…” Roni’s shirt was ripped, her voice hoarse as she cried out in pain and the camera locked onto the small, bruise-like mark that marred her shoulder.

Taber came slowly to his feet, shock resounding through his body as the events of that stolen day surged through his mind; his mouth on her flesh, his canines raking across the area as he suckled at the skin, his tongue laving it. The taste of her had gone to his head faster than liquor. Even now, fifteen months later, she haunted his senses.

“Miss Andrews, how does it feel to be mated to an animal?” Another reporter drowned out her cries as she clawed and kicked to be free. The eager, almost fanatic expressions of the reporters and onlookers sickened him.

The fear in her expression tightened into a coil of rage in his stomach. How dare they touch her? Hold her still for their barbaric displays in such a way? He snarled silently, a promise of retribution searing through his brain.

It was one of the most horrific scenes Taber had ever witnessed in his life. Veronica’s eyes were nearly black in shock and pain as rough hands tried to hold her still, pushing at her head to show the mark in stark relief as the journalist droned on about the supposed mating habits of the Breeds.

He drew slowly closer, his eyes centered on that mark…his mark, his woman. He felt his heart beating sluggishly, the blood boiling in his veins at the sight of hands—male hands—holding her still as she fought, bruising the delicate skin they gripped.

He was barely aware of the growls rumbling from his chest, stark and animalistic, as he watched.

“Let her go, you bastards!” A familiar male voice joined the melee as one of the employees of the auto parts store literally jerked several of those holding her back, slamming them into the wall behind him.

It gave Veronica her chance to jerk free. She didn’t hesitate as she began to run. The camera followed her, showing the burly storeowner yelling at her, waving her to the parts truck parked to the side. She dived into it, only seconds ahead of the enraged journalists.

The camera zoomed in through the closed window as she glanced back. Her expression was stark with terror, her eyes glassy, tear-filled, her shirt nearly ripped from her body, bruises showing on her arms and the upper curves of her breasts.

Every mating instinct in Taber’s body went into overdrive. He had known years before that Roni was different, special. That something about her drew him as nothing else ever had. Staying away from her as she asked him to do had been the hardest thing in his life. Staying away from her now would be impossible.

“I need Tanner and Cabal.” The rough Bengal Breeds were as charming and yet as savage as Taber himself could be. “Sherra…”

“I’m on it.” She already had the phone to her ear, barking out orders. Weapons, supplies, and a heli-flight into the county would take little more than an hour as opposed to a day’s drive. “I’ll have you ready to go in twenty minutes,” she called out to him.

He watched the truck tip as it turned a sharp corner, took out a fence and disappeared up an alley. The transmission was a live feed and broadcasted internationally. He cursed softly. Every fucking scientist and Genetics Council soldier was most likely watching the same display. And he knew damned good and well several of those soldiers were placed in Sandy Hook.

John O’Brien was a good man. His friendship with Callan had stood through the news reports and the rumors that had gone crazy over the months. But he was still just one man, and despite his army training, he was no match for the men the Council would have in place.

“Callan. Get someone on her,” he called back to his Pride leader almost absently, feeling as though the world was centered on the replay of the attack.

“Got it, Taber.” Callan’s voice was hard, dangerously cold. “O’Brien’s with her; he’s good. I have a pretty good idea where he’ll head, and I’ll contact him when you get airborne.”

“Helicopter’s warming up, Taber,” Sherra reported. “It’s being loaded. Tanner and Cabal are heading out to it now. Everything’s a go.”

Taber’s eyes narrowed as he memorized the faces of the men holding her. A few were citizens of the small county where she had grown up; the other two were strangers. They would all pay.

Roni’s scream echoed around him again, her eyes large, terrorized, her face pale. His fists clenched in fury and only then did he become aware of the low, ominous growls issuing from his throat.

He didn’t speak before leaving the room. He turned on his heel and headed quickly out of the office to the front door of the three-story mansion. Outside, a Jeep awaited him. The young Feline Breed driving it put the gas to the floor as he sped to the landing pad where the helicopter awaited.

“Good luck,” the younger Breed called out as Taber jumped from the Jeep and headed to the waiting aircraft.

He ducked as he ran to the open door of the small, sleek little copter and jumped inside. Fifteen months he had waited, never certain, unwilling to force his life on any woman, but especially one he had tried for so long to protect.

“Ready,” he yelled out as Tanner glanced back from the cockpit.

He pulled the headphones over his head, strapped in and braced himself as they lifted off. Every second it took to get to her now was too long. A smile edged his lips. He had respected her wishes over the months because he was unaware of the instinctive mating process. Now the beast inside was free to claim what was his. She could rage, she could bitch, she could hate him until hell froze over and cracked wide open. But she was his. And soon—very soon—she would find there was no longer a choice…for either of them.

Chapter Four

This wasn’t happening to her. Roni tried to convince herself that the mad dash from town into the mountains rising above it was all a nightmare. She would wake up soon. Of course she would. It was just the stress. It wasn’t every day you learned you had mated with a new species of human that you hadn’t even known existed.

“You doin’ okay?” John glanced at her worriedly from the driver’s seat of the parts truck, his red brows lowered over the light blue of his eyes.

Roni gripped the overhead strap tighter as he swung around another curve. Sure as hell he was going to end up going over one of the treacherous cliffs and kill them both. He drove like a madman. Her life may have deteriorated rapidly, but that didn’t mean she wanted to die any time soon.