Nothing. On to the drawers. And if he didn’t find anything in there, chances were she still had it on her. He opened the first drawer, spotted the box of bandages and rummaged through it. Nothing but the bandages.
He repeated the process, searching any and all containers, until he came to one. Warrick stilled and the back of his neck prickled with intuition.
It was in there.
His nose wrinkled and he slowly shook his head. Box of feminine products? If it was anywhere in this room this is where it was. Sienna would’ve assumed he’d be too grossed out to check.
Turning the box upside down, he emptied the contents. A bunch of tampons hit the counter, before the thunk of something hard hitting the linoleum. Warrick’s pulse jumped as he searched through the pile. A moment later he plucked free a small black jump drive.
He curled his fingers around it and shook his head. Son of a bitch. How much information was on here? And why—for fuck’s sake, why—had she kept this hidden from him. From him. He’d saved her life.
His blood pounded a bit faster and his throat tightened. But not enough to stop the low, raw growl that ripped from his throat, filled with anger and frustration.
With the jump drive clenched in his hand, he turned and left the bathroom, heading into the living room where the desk with the computer sat.
Three minutes later he stared in growing dismay and rage at the screen before him. At what appeared to be a detailed description of exactly what the shifters had been given, some kind of scientific jargon and breakdown that may as well have been in hieroglyphics.
Not only that, but there were details on when the drugs had been administered, and the purpose behind the experiments. To find “a cure” for shifting. To forever stop a shifter’s ability to change. And there were pictures. Lots of pictures of the shifters before the injections and after.
There were still shots of all the shifters, including of Agent Grace Masterson, curled up on her side and naked, her thighs red and bruised, likely from injections.
Warrick’s rage grew.
There were a few videos, but Warrick knew he didn’t have time to watch them all. Some were over thirty minutes.
Son of a bitch. It was right here. Everything they’d needed to know was right here. Sienna had deliberately withheld this information from them.
He shoved back the chair he’d sat in, not bothering to pick it up as it clattered to the ground.
“What’s going on?”
Quinton’s sharp voice cut through the silence and Warrick turned to face him.
“You were right. She was hiding something. And it’s all there on the screen. I found a jump drive.”
“The hell you say,” Quinton muttered and crossed the floor in a blur of motion, leaning forward to read the screen. “I do believe we hit gold. Where is Sienna?”
“With Hilliard. I’ll get them.” And God help Sienna when he found her. He’d killed a shifter—a shifter they potentially could’ve saved days ago had he known about this information.
Quinton waved his hand distractedly, not removing his gaze from the screen. “Do that. I’ll call Larson and Rafferty to let them know.”
Warrick was already out the door. Shedding his clothes in record time, before leaping from the porch, shifting midair.
He tore off into the woods. Each slap of his paws against the earth heightened his fury. The beast was out and it was pissed. Sienna’s betrayal swirled in his head in rapid fire, making his gaze red as he followed her and Hilliard’s scent.
It led deeper into the woods, until the trail was almost dark from the canopy of trees. He heard them before he saw them. Talking softly, amusement in their tones.
They came into view. Sienna’s back was to Warrick and Hilliard had his arm around her. All thoughts of the jump drive slipped to the background of his mind.
What the hell was going on here?
Warrick slowed his pace, a low growl of warning building in his throat. The hairs on his body stood up as he made his approach. Tension coiled through every one of Warrick’s muscles and he froze in disbelief.
Get the hell away from her, you bastard.
He knew Hilliard could sense him. And sure enough, the other man glanced back just as Sienna kissed him on the cheek.
Warrick didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even begin to question his actions. His next thoughts were just to kill. With a savage roar, he attacked.
Sienna shoved Hilliard off her—scared shitless by the savagery of the wolf that had come out of nowhere.
Oh dear God in heaven. It was Warrick. She stumbled back from the tree, tripping over the uneven ground and falling onto her butt. Her fingers clawed into the hard dirt as she tried to scramble farther away. But he wasn’t after her.