“It’s not Sage,” said an unfamiliar female voice. “It’s Clara, from CTX. I’m using Sage’s office line. I knew he’d have your number as a quickcode—”
“Slow down, kitten,” Mercy said over the girl’s rapid speed. Clara, she recalled, was a human intern. A very young one. “What do you need me for?”
“An e-fax came through a minute ago and I can’t find anyone—” A pause, the sound of air being gulped. “Sorry. I’m just freaked. There are probably people here but I thought you should know—the fax says there’s going to be a bomb going off in the city in half an hour. Exactly 7:32 a.m.”
Mercy sat up. “Details?”
When Clara read them off, Mercy blew out a breath. “Anything else?”
“It says the Human Alliance is behind this and other fatal attacks around the world, and asks for a boycott of their businesses in protest. Shall I send the fax to your phone?”
“Yes.” She shot it to both Hawke and Lucas as soon as it landed in her in-box. “And, Clara—good call.”
Hanging up on the relieved girl, she turned to Riley. “Floor it. We have a deadline.”
Riley did as asked, and they made it to Bowen’s group in plenty of time. Warned by Mercy, the team had cleared out with military precision. Though Bowen was pissed.
“How the fuck did they get a bomb inside?” Near-black eyes narrowed. “It had to be one of us, someone they turned.”
The tiny Eurasian woman beside him frowned. “We can’t know that.”
“Where the hell is Claude then? I haven’t seen him for twenty-four hours.”
Mercy left them arguing in low voices and headed over to rejoin Riley. “Chance of collateral damage?” she asked, looking around in the unexpectedly cloudy morning light. At least the fog was manageable, barely licking at their ankles.
Riley shook his head. “None. Other warehouses are empty. Bowen and his team swept them for vagrants on their way out, and I did a second sweep.”
“Good.” She rubbed her forehead. “Bomb squad’s setting up now—they might be able to find and disarm the device using one of their bots.”
Glancing around to ensure that everyone was out of the danger zone, he nudged her to follow. “We need to clear the perimeter.”
As they walked, Mercy could sense his wolf clawing at the surface of his skin. Her leopard wasn’t much better. But she knew it was worse for him. It was just the way nature worked—the mating dance could push a predatory changeling male close to insanity. Riley was holding it together. For her.
And for a wolf changeling of his possessive, intensely protective nature to fight the instincts of his beast . . . it had to be a trip through hell itself.
It had been no false promise. She knew he’d do it if it was in any way possible. Riley would give up everything to keep her from being hurt.
Maybe, she thought, her own heart expanding past all fear, all worry, it was time Riley learned what it was to be mated to a leopard. That leopard was finally ready to take a leap in the dark, trusting he’d catch her on the other side. And for her, it was very much a conscious decision—she was too strong, too independent, to fall into this by chance.
She slid her hand into his, twining their fingers together. Leopard and woman were both in agreement—this man, this wolf, he was strong, he was smart, and he was willing to fight for his mate, no matter the cost to himself. The leopard could do no less.
Riley shot her a smile that was the merest curve of his lips. “There goes my macho image.” But his hand tightened around hers. Masculine heat, callused palm, the touch of a man who’d never let go.
Her soul grew painful with need, with an emotion unlike anything she’d ever before felt. “I have something for you.”
He tugged her over the perimeter line—given the size of the explosives mentioned in the e-fax, as well as those found in Nikita’s building, the blast wouldn’t make it even halfway to this distance. But no use in being stupid—they intended to wait behind a deflective wall set up by the bomb squad. And Riley didn’t stop until they were on the other side of that wall. “Yeah? What? Is it shiny?”
Her cat wanted to tease him back, but someone interrupted before she could say anything. It was Indigo. “I’ve got everyone else moving,” the lieutenant told them. “You two going to stay here?”
At their nods, she continued. “Fire crews are waiting one street over like we agreed. Soon as anything goes, they’ll haul ass.”
“Good.” Mercy glanced at her watch, holding on to her impatience with her teeth. “The tip said it was set to blow in about ten minutes.”
They both waited until Indigo had jogged away before resuming their conversation. “So,” Riley asked, “what have you got for me?”
Taking his hand, she placed it palm-down over her heart. It would hurt like a bitch, she thought, but he was hers to protect as much as she was his. “Me.” And she opened up her soul, laid herself bare.
The mating bond shoved through her body like white lightning, hot and wild and right. Incredibly, wonderfully right. His energy was different from hers—wolf, not leopard—but it laced itself with her own until their combined strength was far greater than either would’ve ever been alone. “Wow.”
He blinked, swaying on his feet. “Damn.”
She gripped his chest to keep him upright, a difficult feat since she was feeling intoxicated herself. They both almost fell over, laughed, and then they were kissing. The physical connection between them had never been in any doubt, but the mating bond added a new resonance to it, until she could feel his touch in every cell of her body. “Mmm, I like.”
Riley heard Mercy’s words but couldn’t respond, his wolf still stunned from the impact of a bond he’d always known about, but never truly understood. This wasn’t anything like he’d imagined—it was more, it was better, it was . . . damn fucking amazing. Sweeping his tongue into Mercy’s mouth, he groaned.
Some time later, he raised his head. “That building’s supposed to explode soon.”
“Hmm.” Dreamy eyes looking into his. “Who cares.”
Riley felt like agreeing. “We’re drunk.” He didn’t dare approach the subject of her sentinel bond. He could feel his own blood bond to Hawke strong and sure, which meant his precious Mercy had lost a chunk of her heart. He’d make it up to her, he vowed, love her so deep and true that it would bury the pain of that devastating loss.
However, right then, she looked so content, he didn’t want to break the moment, didn’t want to destroy their mingled joy. His mate,
“Yep.” She dropped her head to his chest and rubbed her face against him. He knew what she was doing— rolling in his scent. He wanted to do the same. Preferably with her all long, lean, and naked below him.
They stood there for several minutes, getting themselves under some sort of control. At long last, Mercy glanced at her watch. “One minute to time of detonation if the tip was legit.”
“I hope it wasn’t.” Because if it was, then things were going to get ugly.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know about internal Alliance politics,” Riley said, “but I don’t like the way they use up their people like they’re nothing.”
Mercy nodded. “And if they kill—Oh, my God!”
Riley followed her gaze skyward to see something plummeting in what looked like an uncontrolled dive. It was too big to be a normal bird. “Hell.” He looked around for something to cushion the blow, but the entire area was old-fashioned concrete and wood. “Flare your wings,” he said to the falling bird between gritted teeth. “Slow it.”
“Come on, come on.” Mercy rose on tiptoe, as if she could reach up and catch the other changeling.
Three seconds before impact, it was as if the falling one heard them. His wings spread, though one looked
