Hour of the Lion

His gaze lowered as he massaged his wrists.

Hell, she’d tried. She rubbed her face dry and started to rise. Maybe someday he’d get past-

“I loved a woman once.”

She froze, and then slowly knelt again.

“I’d just started in the CIA and was appallingly naive. We lived together. I planned to marry her.”

Unable to speak, Vic waited.

“I discovered… She was breaking into my briefcase every night. Selling information to the highest bidder. I confronted her, and she tried to kill me.”

“Fuck.”

His eyes were red, but the tiniest curve of a smile appeared on his lips. “Succinctly put.”

“So you figured I’d betrayed you too.” She shook her head, warmth melting some of the ice surrounding her heart. “Gee thanks, sir.”

On each side of the front door, the windows shattered inwards with a crash. Two mountain lions landed, blurred, and shifted into human form.

Alec. Calum.

Alec’s breath caught as he stood upright. Vicki rose, her big brown eyes wide with shock. The urge to take her into his arms and bury his face in her hair infuriated him. How pitiful could he get? Especially since he’d watched her and her spy boss chatting away a minute ago. His mouth twisted bitterly. “Ms. Waverly. Now, why am I not surprised to see you here?”

Her flinch was as satisfying as it was painful.

After an impassive look around, Calum left to search the house. And probably to get away from Vicki.

Alec glanced at the corner where a tied-up man lay on the carpet. “That’s Vidal?”

Vicki nodded, mouth pressed firmly into a line. Alec had traced his finger over those lips… He winced away from the memory.

As he wandered around the room, he kept a wary eye on Vicki and the other man he wanted to kill. 'Now what would a boss of spies be called?”

“The handler,” the bastard said in a mild, somewhat snooty voice. Medium-height, lean like someone who naturally burns more than they eat, his expression seemed almost indifferent, but those clear blue eyes saw everything.

Over the smell of burned rubber, Alec caught the scent of distress from him-but no fear sweat. Too dumb to know his danger? Doubtful.

Calum came back in. “Nothing. What’s in here?”

“Desk is empty. There’s DVD and CD holders with no contents. Even the computer is gutted,” Alec said. He knelt in front of the fireplace and stirred the contents with the poker. Flakey ashes from paper, melted plastic stubs, a shriveled green plastic board, and a metal box- probably from the computer also. He nodded at Calum, the beginnings of hope rising inside him.

Calum’s eyes narrowed. He turned to Vicki, and power trickled through his voice. “Victoria, where is the information Vidal collected?”

She stiffened and shook her head…but answered, “I burned it.”

“What happened to the information you were supposed to get your boss?” Calum asked mildly, although Alec could see the tension in his frame.

A flash of anger lit her face. “You jump to conclusions too fucking quickly. I’d already turned him down.”

Calum walked over to the handler. “Had she?”

The bastard didn’t agree or disagree. It was like looking at a statue.

They were all across the room, talking. In the corner, out of sight behind the desk, Vidal shredded the last rope with the glass from the shattered windows. His hands had slickened with his own blood, but he was free.

The creatures could attack quickly; he knew that. Their talk covered the sound of his crawling and then he had it-the pistol under one of the chairs, right where the fucking agent had knocked it out of his grip. Still behind the desk, he straightened. “Don’t move, assholes. Hands in the air.”

They jerked around, faces turning hard when they saw the pistol. As they raised their hands, he studied his haul. One man, naked, kneeling by the fire, then the bitch Morgan a couple of feet away. The cold-faced CIA agent who’d managed to take out his guards. Another unclothed stranger stood on the far side of the chair.

The government man spoke, his voice quiet. “Vidal, I suggest-”

“Shut up!” Vidal lined the pistol up with the agent’s forehead, feeling his hand begin to shake. Fucking disease. But he had the cure, now didn’t he? He smiled at the two unclothed men. “Swane described you. You’re the cop and the daddy.”

The dark one gazed back, pupils completely black, and growled.

A chill ran up Vidal’s spine at the murderous anger radiating from him…from them both. He shifted his weight and ignored the creeping of fear.

“What happened to Swane?” Vidal asked, then shook his head. Didn’t really matter. If the werecats were here, the bastard must have got himself caught-and spilled his guts.

He needed to get the hell out of here before more CIA or creatures showed up. He had only one cage though. It could hold two animals-but he wanted to keep the woman.

Vidal aimed the gun at the one by the fireplace. “I don’t need you.” He pulled the trigger.

Calum saw the man point the pistol at Alec. No! He shifted and sprang as the pistol snapped. He heard the gut-wrenching sound of a bullet hitting flesh and knew despair. On his knees, Alec couldn’t have moved fast enough to dodge.

He hit Vidal from the side, knocking him down. The human tried to scramble away, but fury raging, Calum bit through his spine. With barely a shudder, the human died.

Lachlan was avenged. And Alec.

Calum shifted to human and turned, unsure if he could bear the sight of his brawd’s lifeless body. But-

Alec was alive. Alive! It was Victoria, in panther form, who lay on the floor, incongruously still in her black clothing. The stretch top had a hole in it, and blood already pooled on the floor.

Kneeling, Alec ran a hand down her fur. “Damn, Vicki,” he said hoarsely, “trawsfur back so I can get a bandage on that.”

A blur, and she returned to human. She merely grimaced at her shoulder, but when she saw her handler’s shock at her transformation, her face crumpled for a second.

His heart hammering, Calum went into the bathroom and grabbed a clean towel. He tossed it to Alec. “I thought he’d killed you, brawd,” he managed to say.

“Me too. Vixen took-” Jaws set hard, Alec ripped the cloth into a make-shift dressing for Victoria’s shoulder.

“It’s a time-honored tradition-take a bullet for your buddy. You know I like my traditions.” She shrugged and winced.

“How bad does it hurt?” Alec asked in a tight voice.

“Pain is weakness leaving the body,” she said lightly.

“You were a Marine? I should have known.” He put pressure on the hole, scowled at her back. “It went through. Change into cat form soon-that’ll help.”

Calum squeezed Alec’s shoulder just to feel his warm skin, know he was alive. Then he touched Victoria’s cheek. “Thank you.”

She nodded, her lips curved up in a wry grin. “Next time, consider using the door. Glass and tied-up men don’t mix well.”

“We will keep that in mind.”

“Is Vidal dead?” she asked, her voice disconcertingly level, obviously familiar with violent death.

He should have considered the implications of that before. With an effort, Calum shoved his feelings to one side and reached for clarity. The jolt of seeing Victoria had been followed by too many others, and he could not afford to lose control…or his judgment. “He’s dead. As is Swane. Irma will be safe, and Lachlan can rest easy in his