Hour of the Lion

the east. More light than she liked. With a sigh, she tossed her clothes into the back seat and laid the keys behind the front tire.

Okay then. She closed her eyes, opened the mental cat-door, and flung herself through. She wasn’t a one-toe-in-the-lake sort of girl after all. The eerie tingling covered her skin as if she’d stepped into an electrified puddle. She felt her connection with the Mother for a second, and her heart squeezed at the realization that Her love was unchanged. Then her whiskers quivered at the scent of deer in the night air. Rabbit. Shrew in the grass-very close.

No, no, mission first. She grasped the backpack in her mouth and shook it to get the feel of weight. Thank God Alec had once made her carry a kill-a small deer-so she knew how much she could handle. Kitties were damned strong.

She loped through the woods, made a lovely leap over a stream, and realized a chain link fence enclosed the property. She studied it for a minute. No additional electrical wiring. Piece of cake. She took a leaping run and bounded up and over, landing lightly on the other side. As she trotted away, she glanced back at the fence, shining faintly in the moonlight, and let her tail twitch slightly. Damn, I’m good.

The rear of the building had little cover. A couple of small trees, a few lilacs in one corner. In the shadow of the bushes, she paused. Two distinct human scents; one idiot at the near corner of the house chewed tobacco. She heard him spit. The other was quieter, a dark shadow leaning against the house.

After shifting to human, she opened her leather satchel and changed into stretchy black clothing. Quick cammo on any exposed skin, K-Bar strapped at her calf, Glock, reloads and other toys in a belt around her waist. The police nightstick she hefted a few times to get the balance and kept in her hand.

A glance at the sky. One nice thick cloud neared the moon. When the yard darkened, she moved, circling, coming up behind Mr. Dipping Tobacco. Hand over his mouth and a thump with the baton. He went limp, and she lowered him silently to the ground. Some precut strands of dark rope from her belt secured him quickly, and she finished with duct tape over his mouth and a quick pat on his butt.

The next was just as easy. It was almost insulting. She checked for guards in the front, but Wells had already taken them out. Four total…You’re a nervous guy, Tony Vidal.

Would she find Swane here too? She could only hope.

The back door was locked, and someone moved inside the room. No entry there. However, the bathroom window wasn’t secured. She slid it open. The opening was too small for a guy, but hell, her boobs and butt would squish. She landed on the floor in the bathroom almost soundlessly. Her nose wrinkled. Jesus, one of the guards must have had beans for supper.

She cracked the bathroom door slightly open. Wells sat in an armchair, head in his hands. The posture, so different from his erect one, gave her a pang. Ignore it. The chair faced the front door; his back was to her. Couldn’t get much easier than that.

She coshed him. And ignored the tears that seeped from her eyes as she tied him securely. She started to duct-tape his mouth and stopped. He was congested; he’d suffocate if he couldn’t get air through his nose. Hell.

She ripped the tape back off. If he woke up before she finished, she could always whack him again…assuming she had the heart. She did a quick search, relieving him of his pistol and the tiny computer in his pocket. The pistol went in her bag.

The room had a sitting area to watch television and the other half was a token office. A box of files lay on the floor. A laptop sat on the desk surrounded by papers. She dumped Wells’ belongings beside it.

In a back bedroom, a tied-up Vidal moaned and groaned, only half-conscious. Thanks, Wells. A chill ran up her spine. This was too easy-something was bound to go wrong.

When Vidal opened his eyes, she considered killing him then, but she might need more information. She dragged him to the living room and stashed him out of the way in the corner behind the desk.

All the rest of the rooms were empty.

Before starting a fire in the big stone fireplace, she removed her pack. Flames and ammunition-so not a good thing. Then she went to work. Folders and pictures. Vidal had accumulated information about her-a pleasure to burn. The blaze grew as she tossed in paper after paper, and when it was roaring well, she started on the DVDs and CDs. She didn’t bother to look, just dumped it in. Hell, most of it was porn.

Black smoke and God, what a stench. She threw in Wells’ micro-computer.

“It won’t take long to collect more information.”

Vic spun. Wells stared at her, eyes clearing rapidly. She must have pulled her blow. Stupid, Sergeant. “I know. But it will slow you down a little.”

“You intend to eliminate me?” He struggled to sit up from where he’d slumped.

“I rarely tie up people I’m planning to kill.”

“If you’re hoping for me to change my mind, you are in error.”

Right. Even as the words sliced her open, she had to smile. He’d been unconscious, probably had a splitting headache, hands and feet were tied, and he still had the same arrogance as if he sat in his own office. Damn, but she loved him.

The thought brought her hand to a stop in midair over the flames; the scorch made her jump. Loved Wells? Well, duh. She really did. Calum and Alec had managed to open the way to her heart, and now she could see all the ways love appeared. Damn them anyway. She grabbed a camcorder and threw the whole thing into the fireplace, sending up a flurry of sparks. And simply stood there, watching it burn.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Don’t know.” Don’t care.

“As I left, it sounded as if the werelions were unhappy with you for some reason.”

She glanced at him as she slammed the laptop down on the desk, splitting open the bottom. “They heard what you said-cat ears-and reacted, oh, pretty much as you’d expect.”

“Excellent.”

Damn him. Even knowing it would hurt, she prodded at him like she’d picked at scabs as a kid. “Never seen you get so upset. Always thought you were so uber-cool.”

Color surged into his face although his expression didn’t change.

She pulled out the hard drive and the motherboard. Threw them on the fire. “Did you feel betrayed by your favorite agent?”

He gazed at the far wall, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

While checking over the house, she’d found no info storage other than this room. Information gone.

One bad guy left. She should deal with Vidal without a witness. Time to go back to sleep, boss.

She picked up the weighted nightstick and hesitated. Wells had been her recruiter, her handler and more… He’d trained her, been there for her when she needed him-although he’d pretended it was duty. He’d brought her junk food in hospitals with an expression of distaste, flown her back to the states against her wishes…just to make sure she was all right. Truly covert even in never showing that he cared.

It wasn’t his fault Lachlan had turned her into a furball. In some ways, she had betrayed her boss. He was owed.

Damn the shifters and their fucking reciprocity law. Releasing a pained sigh, she knelt in front of Wells. With her K-Bar, she sliced through his bonds. So much for the easy part.

He didn’t move, just lifted his eyebrows inquisitively.

“The kid you saw on tape-the one who bit me? Before he died in my arms, I made him two promises,” she said softly. “I promised to inform his grandfather what had happened to him. I also gave my word not to tell anyone about the shifters. I did my damndest to discover whether they were a threat to humans or the U.S. If so, I’d have told you, broken promise or not.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He was listening at least.

“I…I couldn’t figure out how to uphold my obligations and still not betray the kid. I didn’t…” She felt her lips quiver and firmed them immediately. “I never meant to hurt you. You’re-” After a breath, she managed, “You’re more like a father to me than mine ever was.”