AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She heard Seth curse. A vile, enraged curse that had her jerking her gaze to his and horror flashing through her mind. He was listening. Listening to every vicious, dirty word coming out of the link.
“Here,” she
hissed, pointing to the steady blink of the locator light. “Southern tip, within the vegetation.”
She sent the order to the links; the electronic signal would display as directions on the PDAs they would have pulled the second the emergency signal went to their links.
She turned to him then, quickly, some instinct, some knowledge warning her. She was unable to catch him as he threw the link and stormed from the bedroom, a weapon she hadn’t even known he had close clenched in his hand.
“No. No.” She shook her head, frantic as she grabbed the link from the floor, attached it to her ear and ran after him.
She had to catch up with him. He couldn’t do this, not without her. Nothing could happen to Seth. How would she live? How the hell was she supposed to face the night without him? What would keep the nightmares away and surround her with warmth if anything happened to Seth?
Her finger was hovering over the main channel activator when a low laugh came over it.
“Is your lover on his way? I’m waiting for him, Dawn. And this time, he’ll be the one that dies. You belong to me, little girl.”
She deactived, hit the reset and cleared the channels team-wide before reactivating to a channel now blocked to the compromised link.
“Alert. All agents alert. Seth is moving out of the house. I repeat, he’s on the run to the link location. Converge and cover. I want him back in this house. Styx, locate Moira…”
“Located. Tranqed and out of it but alive. Dash and Callan are moving for Lawrence at the back entrance. I repeat, she’s tranqed, and it’s powerful from the smell of it.”
Dawn was taking the steps two at a time before hitting the foyer, sliding and righting herself in a second to rush to the back of the house, following Seth’s scent.
“Well hell, guess they’re all moving out tae-gether, lass.”
“No. Dash. Get him in this house. Get him back here now.” Panic was setting in on her. There was an assassin out there, waiting on Seth, and he had found a way to draw him out.
“Dawn, hold position.” Dash’s voice came over the link. “We have Seth covered. That’s an order. Hold position.”
“No. No,” she yelled into the link, rushing for the kitchen. “Get him back in here.”
“Dawn, you can’t cage him,” Callan came back. “Let him fight this battle.”
“No.” She was moving from the house, finding cover and following. “Don’t do this, Callan. Don’t you risk him this way. Don’t you do this.” She was begging him. She could hear the plea in her voice, the demand.
He came back, his voice cold. “He’s your mate, Dawn, not your possession. Return to position and await orders.”
She was shaking, fury and fear filling her at the sound of Callan’s voice. Why would he do this? Why would he allow her mate to risk his life this way?
Her breathing was harsh, her heart racing out of control as she reached the back door. Surely he wouldn’t deliberately draw Seth into danger. He wouldn’t let her mate walk into an ambush, would he? Could he? Did he hate Seth to that extent?
She shook her head. He was arrogant, he was powerful, but he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He was a man, and so was Seth. What the hell, was this a fucking male bonding moment or something?
They had a head start, and though she knew the location of the link, she had no idea which direction they had taken. Keeping low, her heart thumping in her chest, fear clogging her senses, she sprinted from cover to cover until she hit the tree line. Once there, Dawn let the animal clawing inside her free.
That instinctive, predatory half of herself that she kept reined so closely gave a small, hissing growl as she crouched in the shadows. Her head lifted, her nostrils flaring, searching for the scent of her mate.
She could still hear the sound of that voice. Evil. Vicious. It echoed in her head. Little girl. Fight me, little cat…
She shook her head. She wouldn’t remember. She wouldn’t let herself. She had pushed that child out of existence years ago and she would be damned if she would let her back in now.
She let herself recede. That human part of her brain slipped to the side and allowed instinct to take over. She had trained for this. She had worked her ass off for ten years, pitting herself against the best trackers, the best assassins Sanctuary housed.
She was a predator. She could track, she could kill. She would be there with her mate, by his side. If he was stupid enough to race into danger, then he could damned well accept her being with him.
She moved through the underbrush, her senses humming, Seth’s scent clear in her head as she searched for it on the breeze. Every particle of her being narrowed to one thing, to one stone-cold purpose: the protection of her mate. The man who brought her to life. Who touched her without shame, who bought her soaps that smelled of emotion and panties as soft as a lover’s sigh.
