The Scent of Seduction (18 page)

Finally he reached the double doors at the end of the hall that led to Broyles’ rooms. Jaryn took a deep breath and slowly reached for the long gold handle. The second he opened this door, one of three things would probably happen. He'd either be shot, attacked by a wolf or nothing at all. The uncertainty kept his alertness at triple intensity. He pushed the lever down and opened the door a fraction of an inch. He let the air from the room float through the crack. Broyles’ scent was definitely present, but Jaryn couldn't determine how fresh it was. Was the man inside, or was Jaryn moments too late?

He took a deep, slow breath and slid inside the room, keeping his back to the other half of the set of doors. He scanned the space and found what appeared to be a sitting room of some kind. There were a couple of couches and club chairs. The shadow of an antique writing desk sat in front of a group of windows. A soft fluttering sound came from his right and his eyes found a long sheer curtain floating into the room. The air in the room was warm, so it couldn't be from an open window. There must be some kind of heat vent over there.

"Hostages are clear. Count forty-five. We've got shifters, vamps, and you won't believe who else we found."

Shaun's voice came over the microphone, and Jaryn released a breath he hadn't realised he been holding. He had no idea what Shaun's cryptic remark meant, but Jaryn didn't have time to think about that for now. Shaun was in charge of the hostages, and he trusted his Beta to do his job and get them to safety. Jaryn didn't particularly care if one of them had horns coming out of their head and spoke in tongues.

There were no doors on the right side of the room, so Jaryn turned to his left. It seemed he had three choices. Jaryn went for door number one. Weapon at the ready, he opened the door and found a coat closet. He pushed aside heavy fabric to make sure there was nothing behind them. Satisfied this door was clear, he shut the door silently. Door number two wasn't latched and he clearly saw the outline of the door panel with the help of his enhanced night vision. He tapped the panel and watched as it swung inwards. It was the bathroom. The space wasn't big, but embodied the epitome of gilded luxury. There were leaded glazed windows, candelabras on either side of the pedestal sink, crystal chandeliers and detailed trim. The only place a person could hide was the deep claw-foot tub, and Jaryn quickly peeked over the edge of the porcelain. He spied a door in the right wall. Should he go through there or retrace his steps to the sitting room? He hadn't heard anything, but what if Broyles had come in while Jaryn was clearing the bathroom? If he went backwards, he could be walking into a trap. Decision made, Jaryn went forwards.

He stepped through the door and found himself in the bedroom. The size of the space struck Jaryn stupid for moment. His eyes followed the beams of moonlight shining through the easily twenty-foot tall wall of windows and landed on the massive four-poster canopy bed. The entire room had carved wood panelling and all the large furniture screamed masculinity.

Broyles’ scent was stronger in here, so this was most certainly his bedroom. In fact, the smell was so strong that Jaryn would have sworn that Broyles was in the room with him at that moment, but there was no obvious sign of him. Foot by foot, Jaryn searched the space, trying to ferret out his nemesis.

"Fuck. Where are you, you bastard?” he whispered.

"I'm right here."

Jaryn spun around, weapon raised, finger on the trigger. Broyles stood in an open section of wall that had been a solid panel a moment ago. Son of a bitch had secret fucking passages.

"And what are you going to do with that thing, Chaunterel?"

Jaryn wasn't surprised that Broyles knew his name. Hell, he'd have been surprised if the man didn't know.

"I'm going to fuck your shit up."

"With a gun? I'm rather disappointed in you. I thought we'd be able to settle this little disagreement between us honourably."

"Disagreement? I'd hardly call this situation something so mundane."

"I take it you have a much more noble reason, then, for breaking into my home?"

"Give it up, Broyles. We've already released your hostages. Your mod squad has been eliminated, and it's time to turn yourself over to the council for the crimes you've committed."

Jaryn really hoped that Mac had taken care of the men who'd run out into the forest after him. He didn't want any unexpected surprises.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about. I've provided a home for all kinds of lost souls, out of the goodness of my heart. They were free to leave if they wanted to."

"Really? That's why they were being held in cells, and there was a biometric lock on the outside of the barracks?"

"We live in the country. I'm very protective of those under my care. Surely you can understand that, Chaunterel? You live in the wilds of Montana, and I know you take precautions to guard those near you.” Adam stepped into the bedroom, keeping his eyes locked on Jaryn's. “Even if they belong to another."

"I assume you talking about Nicole. Funny thing about that. She's my mate. My
true
mate. Our love is not some part I tried to coerce her into.” Jaryn took a step towards Broyles. “I guess in a way I really should thank you. If you hadn't been such a sick fuck, she never would have run and it may have been who knows how long before I found her."

Adam smirked and took a couple of more steps forwards. “Nicole is mine. I've already taken steps to ensure that, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it. How's she been feeling lately?"

Jaryn's finger tightened a fraction on the trigger. His hand was steady and his sight never wavered from pale target of Broyles’ forehead.

"She hasn't been restless or anything, has she? Hearing voices?” Adam looked out the windows that filled the wall up to the high vaulted ceiling of the bedroom. “The moon is nearly full. I can feel its pull, as I'm sure you can. I bet sweet Nicole is sitting in your home, all tucked in nice and tight, staring up into the sky and wondering why the urge to walk into midnight's embrace has filled her body."

Jaryn closed the distance between him and Broyles. One last foot and the barrel of his weapon would create in impression on the son of bitch's forehead. “What are you talking about?"

"By now the results of one of my experiments should be in. You can't expect me to believe that you never noticed the scar on the back of Nicole's neck. I wanted Nicole for my own, but how would it look if I, Alpha of the Northwoods, took a mere human as a mate. So, I took the liberty of scheduling Nicole for a little procedure. It was nothing really. Some women want a bigger rack, some want a nose job or a little fat sucked away. A little gene therapy magic and presto—I had a bitch for a mate, in the truest sense of the word."

The growl that emanated from Jaryn's chest rumbled throughout the room. How dare this monster change a single hair on his mate's head, let alone alter her genetics to suit his twisted desires? He wanted to deny Broyles’ taunts, but unfortunately what he said explained a few things. His baby had to be so confused about what was happening inside her, and he was here, hundreds of miles away.

"By my calculations this full moon is the third since her procedure. My scientists predicted it would take this long for her DNA to completely accept the change, and for her beast to emerge.” Adam took the last step separating him from Jaryn. He leaned into the muzzle of Jaryn's weapon. “So what are you going to do now, Alpha,” he sneered. “Are you going to shoot me? My men already have Nicole in their possession. I've been assured that the bitch has been placed in her cage and is ready to transport back to where she belongs on my word. Then again, if they don't hear from me, they have the authority to put her down—out of compassion, you understand. Without her mate, she'll succumb to the madness of the moon. I programmed her that way. The only way to keep her sane is the injection of her mate's DNA with each full moon."

"Then it's a good thing I'm her mate."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Are you willing to risk her life with your certainty? A lot of changes are taking place in her body right now. Biological changes that are...let's face it, not exactly natural. All manipulated by yours truly.” He smirked. “Who's to say that when Nicole's wolf emerges she'll even recognise you anymore?
Her
wolf may despise you.
Her
wolf may very well want...me."

"The mating bond is sacred among our people. The meeting of two spirits, two souls who are destined for one another. It's not all about biology. So yes, I'm sure I am Nicole's mate, as she is mine. I don't care what kind of voodoo you performed, we belong to each other."

"Then shoot me. Kill me and end it here. Take your revenge.” He leaned harder against the muzzle. “Go ahead...do it,” Adam dared. “If you are one hundred per cent certain that you'll never need me to tell you what to do if something went wrong...then pull that fucking trigger."

Jaryn's finger squeezed the small lever. The metal dug into his skin despite the leather gloves. He stared into Broyles’ dark eyes. There was no emotion in dark orbs. No humanity existed in his soul. Jaryn had killed before. In the military he'd taken more lives than he'd ever really been comfortable with. Sometimes the situation had even required him to look into his opponent's eyes as he made the kill, but it had never been like this. Never in cold blood. Never without the sanction of his government, never without orders. However, this thing had toyed with not only his love's psyche, but her health, her well-being, her safety.

Jaryn felt the wolf creep closer to the surface. This man was a threat to everything he held dear. He should be taken out, wiped from the face of the planet, sent to burn in the fires of hell from which he came.

"You should maybe also consider that Nicole was a guinea pig in our little endeavour. I've done a lot of experiments over the years, with varying levels of success, but Nicole is the first human I turned wolf. How often have you heard of these kinds of things going right on the first try? You may want to keep that in mind as you're making your decision."

"Jaryn, we've breached the house. There's something here you really need to see."

Shaun's voice echoed in Jaryn's ear, distracting him for a fraction of a second. It was all the prepared wolf in front of him needed. In the time it took Jaryn to blink, an icy hot pain pierced his lower back. He stumbled a few steps. Broyles spun and gave Jaryn a hard kick to his head. His weapon hit the floor, and he lost his balance. The floor loomed up at him, and he twisted to land on his front to avoid whatever Broyles had embedded in his body. He watched as the son of a bitch disappeared through the same passageway he'd hidden in earlier.

White spots danced behind Jaryn's eyelids. He pressed the button for the microphone of his comm-unit. “Shaun. Master bedroom. Second level. West wing. North corner. I need you."

Jaryn stared at the moon low in the sky outside the wall of windows. He prayed that Cooper was looking out for Nicole and that everything Broyles had said to Jaryn was to rile him. But just in case it wasn't and Nicole really was in the hands of Broyles henchmen, her mind slowly losing its grip on reality...

He closed his eyes and opened their link with the last of his strength.

"I love you
..."

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Nicole lurched up in bed and looked over to Jaryn's side of the bed. She could have sworn she'd just heard his voice. He wasn't beside her, and her heart thudded as she remembered why. She closed her eyes and opened their link.

"Jaryn? Love?"

There was nothing. No calm presence. None of the warmth she normally felt from Jaryn's presence. Something was very wrong. She knew it deep in her soul. Something had happened to her mate. She scrambled out of the bed and ran across the floor of their bedroom. Nicole yanked open the bedroom door and raced out into the living room.

"Cooper!"

The guest room door slammed against the wall and a very nearly naked mountain of muscle thundered into the living room with a gun at the ready. Cooper scanned the room, obviously looking for the threat. When no immediate danger became evident, he came over to where she stood.

"What's wrong, Nicole?"

"It's Jaryn. Something is wrong. I can feel it."

Cooper disappeared into the bedroom and returned a moment later with a pair of jeans pulled on, unsnapped at the hips. He was in the process of tugging on a shirt while simultaneously unfolding his comm-unit. He attached the remote to his ear and keyed in the sequence to connect him to Shaun via the secured link they'd set up in case of an emergency.

"Give me a status,” he barked.

Nicole watched Cooper, but the blasted man gave nothing away as he spoke with Jaryn's second in command. Was her mate injured? Was he dead? Why couldn't she feel him anymore? She began to pace the living room. The restlessness that had plagued her all week was back in full force. She made her way over to the glass wall that looked out onto the pack lands. She couldn't see the moon with the heavy cloud cover that was currently spewing fat snowflakes towards the ground. Apparently, the storm they'd predicted had arrived sometime in the couple of hours since she'd gone to bed. However, Nicole still felt the moon's presence high up in the sky. She lifted her hand and placed it on the cool glass, as if to touch the hidden orb that somehow beckoned to her. Her other hand rubbed the back of her neck, and her fingertip encountered the mysterious scar. Her eyes caught a flash of movement outside. It was big and dark, but with the snow blowing she couldn't really make out any detail. Maybe it was nothing, but then again...

"Cooper?"

"In a minute, Nicole."

She saw another flash this time and knew it wasn't the snow playing tricks on her eyes.

"Cooper, there's someone out there."

She heard the unmistakable sound of Cooper chambering a round into his weapon.

"Get away from the window!"

Jaryn had taken her out into the field not long ago and taught her how to shoot one of the semi-automatic pistols he kept at the house, telling her it was for her protection. To her surprise, she'd proven to be a good shot and not the least bit intimidated by the weapon.