Tempting The Beast(61)

“That bastard touched her?” he bit out.

“No,” she drawled mockingly. “He mated with her. Surely you remember the concept? And now the

Council no longer cares if they take him alive or dead. They want the woman and any child she carries.

But you already knew that, didn’t you, Mr. Tyler? Why else would they attack mere hours after talking

to you?”

He shook his head slowly.

“I never betrayed my sister. I wouldn’t.” His voice sent a chill over her spine.

Sherra frowned.

“I came to kill you, Kane Tyler,” she said carefully.

He didn’t seem surprised now. His mouth edged with mockery.

“Perhaps you could delay that little attempt long enough for me to save my sister’s ass,” he bit out.

“What the hell is this mating shit?”

“Later,” she bit out. “Now is not the time for explanations. Now is the time for you to tell me how the

Council learned of the mating, if Merinus didn’t tell you of it.”

And Sherra was nearly certain he hadn’t known. He was a liar, but in this one instance, he was telling the

truth. Her gifts had grown through the years, with maturity and desperation. She could now smell a lie as

others could diseased trash.

“Who are you?” His voice sizzled. “And you’re going to have to be a little more forthcoming than you

are, woman. I can’t help Merinus or Callan with so little information.”

Taking a deep breath, Sherra stepped from the shadows. She watched his eyes widen, saw the

suspicion turn to knowledge.

“You weren’t killed,” he whispered, blinking, trying to assure himself she was there.

Bitterness filled her with a wave of pain so intense, she threatened to drown beneath it.

“No, lover, I wasn’t killed. But that doesn’t mean you have much longer to live.”

And Sherra faced her past as she never had before. Nightmares and broken hopes fragmented around

her, drawing her soul into a bleak, dark void she feared she could never escape. She felt the surging lust,

the need, just as Callan and Merinus knew it, thundering through her blood, through her very being.

Before her stood the man who had betrayed her years before. In a bleak, cold lab, his body laboring

over her, throwing her into pleasure despite every barrier she put up against it. Her mate. The father of

the child she had lost. The one man she had sworn to kill.



* * * * *

It was dark before Callan made it to the hidden jeep. The precautions he insisted on taking and the

rough terrain they were going through had turned a half-day’s hike into a full day’s. He pushed Merinus

into it, cranked the engine with a prayer, then a sigh of relief when it turned over easily. Pulling out of the

small, deserted shed at the edge of a logging camp he started down the road at an easy pace.

Merinus was lying in the back seat, tired, drained from the run and the drugged lust raging through her

body. Callan had quickly replaced his camouflaged T-shirt with a plain white cotton shirt. His hair was

pushed beneath a baseball cap, and his gun lay in easy reach. The drive to the next town wasn’t far and if

he stayed on the main road, well away from the paths he was known to take, then he might get out of this

relatively unscathed.

His safe house was tucked away several hours from his home. On the edge of a large town, unassuming,

with only a few neighbors and it was fully stocked. He could hide there long enough to figure out what the

hell had happened.

He pulled into the garage hours later, sighing wearily as the garage door closed automatically behind

them. Merinus had slipped into a restless sleep earlier. She whimpered occasionally, shifted around, but

the weariness dragging at her body had been too much.

“Are we there?” She rose slowly from the seat, her voice drowsy, aroused. God, he wanted her.

She was ready for him, her body wet for him. He took a steadying breath. He had to get her in the

house first.

“Come on.” He jumped from the jeep then helped her out, lifting her carefully into his arms and stalking

to the door.

“I can walk,” she protested, but she pressed herself closer, her mouth finding the warm skin of his neck

as he fit the key into the lock.

“And I can carry you,” he told her, feeling something in his chest tighten as he held her close.

The house was dark, silent. He flipped on low lights as he walked into the kitchen, inhaling carefully to

be certain no surprises awaited. All he detected was the closed scent of the house and hot, wet woman.

“Hungry?” He stepped into the living room, placing her on the couch as he stepped back.

She raked her fingers through her hair as she stared up at him.