“People,” Chase echoed. “Ashley Brannon isn’t the one after you?”
Mahsood seemed a little surprised—and worried—to hear the name. “Ashley is here, too? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, we ran into her a few hours ago,” Tate said. “She implied she’d love to get together with you and talk about old times, but something tells me you’re not nearly as eager for a reunion.”
Mahsood slowly got to his feet and moved over to the couch, careful not to get too close to the empty weapon Tate had tossed there as he sat down. “Ashley is an unstable woman who believes I’m responsible for separating her from her adoptive parents and keeping her away from her mother as well. She doesn’t like me, and I do not think meeting with her would be very beneficial to me.”
Chase chuckled. “I agree it probably wouldn’t be beneficial, but it would be entertaining as hell. Considering you held her prisoner in a mental institution for years while conducting all kinds of painful experiments on her, I imagine she has hundreds of wonderful things planned for you.”
The doctor gave the deputy a dismissive glance. “The woman fails to understand the significant role she has played in the advancement of genetic science.”
After hearing something like that, Tate found himself wondering how difficult it would be to let Ashley know where they were. Maybe they could give her a few minutes alone with Mahsood.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t something they could do, even if they had a way of reaching Ashley. Landon would want Mahsood brought back to the DCO so they could question him about Rebecca and her role in his hybrid research. But before Tate could think about getting the man back to DC, there was one other issue they had to deal with first.
“Tell me about these people hunting you,” Tate said. “Who are they?”
Mahsood shrugged. “I have no idea who they are. I’d been safely off the grid for weeks in Quebec City, but then four men and two shifters appeared out of nowhere and tried to grab me. I was fortunate enough to escape and make my way back here, but they found me again, killing someone very important to me in the process.”
“McKinley Bell,” Chase said softly.
Mahsood nodded, his dark eyes filling with sadness. Tate had to admit the man seemed genuinely devastated. He supposed even demented psychopaths could have a place in their hearts for someone. It didn’t mean Mahsood was any less of a monster. It simply reinforced the old saying about there being someone out there for everyone, including psychopaths.
“Yes,” the doctor murmured. “I’d been staying at his place, but I was worried the people who were after me would come there at some point. I knew I had to find another place to hide and decided on this house. I’d been here many times in the past and knew it would be empty at this time of the year. But McKinley was concerned for my safety, so he insisted he come out here first and look around. He even promised to drive a circuitous route so he’d know if he was being followed. Unfortunately, he never came back. I understand they tortured him as a way to get to me.”
Tate had a stupid urge to say something consoling, like McKinley’s death had been painless. Before he had a chance to lie, a soft chime from somewhere in the house caught his attention.
Mahsood’s head snapped up sharply, his wide-eyed gaze locked on the hallway behind Tate. “That’s a security alarm in the office. It means one of the sensors on the property has been activated.”
Leaving Chase to deal with Mahsood, Tate turned and ran for the office. Several more of the chimes had gone off by the time he got there. That couldn’t be a good thing.
He slid to a stop behind the desk, cursing when he saw the intruders moving quickly through the woods behind the house, tripping multiple alarms as they went. The two shifters were in the lead, while four heavily armed men spread out behind them. No doubt, the shifters knew they were setting off the alarms and didn’t care. They knew no one Mahsood called would be able to get here in time to help.
Tate cursed as the team of well-trained operatives converged on the house. His gut told him they’d followed him and Chase since the fight at Joanne Harvey’s house. They’d led the hired guns right to the man they were after.
“What’s the word?” Chase walked into the office with Mahsood. “Do we fight or make a run for it?”
“That depends,” Tate told him. “Do you consider six against two bad odds?”
“I can help fight,” Mahsood said. “Let me have my gun back.”
Chase snorted and shook his head. “We run.”
* * *
Tanner knew he’d made a lot of stupid decisions in his life. In fact, it wasn’t a stretch to say his life—at least recently—was nothing more than a collection of one terrible decision followed by another. But deciding to stop being a moron and tell Zarina how he felt about her wasn’t one of them. It might just be the smartest thing he’d ever done.
Zarina was sleeping contently on his chest, her perfect naked body lightly coated with a sheen of sweat. They’d made love for hours, and it had been incredible. He’d never been with anyone like her. He was so in love, it hurt to even think about being apart from her for more than a few minutes.
Folding his arm under his head, Tanner glanced at the cabin’s lone window with its makeshift curtain. The sun would be coming up soon, and he and Zarina would be facing another day. But for the first time in forever, he was looking forward to the day and what it might bring.
While they’d made love, he’d shifted
