Nalini Singh: Branded by Fire

Even as Kaleb spoke to Silver, another man, one known only as the Information Merchant, received a request through an e-mail address available to those who knew where to look.

The request was . . . unexpected.

It might even, he thought, be impossible to fulfill. But the Information Merchant was the best in the business. He did not accept failure.

Decision made, he tapped out a reply using the wireless keyboard beamed onto his desk.

Request received. Transfer one million dollars to the account specified below. Work will begin as soon as the transfer has been verified. Further payments will depend on hours of work, and, in this case, the level of threat.

The echoes of Riley’s growl reverberated inside the vehicle.

Satisfied she’d finally gotten to him, Mercy relaxed her hold on the steering wheel and literally shoved her mind into work mode. “So, the ‘explore all options’ stuff aside, what’s your gut say on this? Alliance?”

“Has their trademark—or what we know of it.” He stared out the windshield, his wolf very apparent in the tone of his voice. And this time, the edge was lethal. “Planned like clockwork,” he continued. “Only mistake was Willow, and even that’s not a biggie. She’s a cub, was probably too scared to take much in.”

“But if it is the Alliance, why would they be so stupid?” That, she didn’t understand. “They have to know we’ll come down hard—we took out their entire team last time.”

Riley was silent for a few minutes. “What do we know about the Alliance?”

“We’ve had Keely doing some research,” she said, referring to the Pack historian. “From what she found, it looks like it’s a two-faced organization, but that second face—the paramilitary arm—is hidden so deep, most of their own members don’t know about it, even though they’re effectively funding it.”

“That tracks with our intelligence.”

“We don’t know how long the militant arm’s existed.” She overtook a large truck with speed that made Riley’s knuckles whiten . . . and the leopard smirk in unholy glee. “But obviously, they’re beginning to get more open in their activities.” Part of Mercy could understand why the humans were starting to act with such violence. Being considered the weakest race on the planet had to hurt. “What I don’t get,” she murmured, “is how the Alliance could sink so low as to attack women and children, families? Their business arm has always had a core of integrity.”

“Been around a long time, too.” Riley slammed a hand on the dash as she swung around a Porsche that was already going well over the speed limit. “Mercy.” The dominance was back, dark and potent and thick in the confines of the car.

It was hard to breathe, but she kept her tone sweet, her leopard tightly held. “Yes, Riley?”

“I’m driving on the trip back.”

“Nope.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“And I’m not a submissive.” She bared her teeth at him, her own power flaring out in a scalding wave. “Suck it up.”

The air filled with aggression. It skated over her body, along her spine, over her throat. And that quickly, she wanted him. He knew almost the instant she did, his indrawn breath harsh in a way that was utterly, erotically male. An instant later, his arousal mirrored hers.

“We are so not doing this,” she said, having to force the words out past the constriction in her throat.

Amber eyes glinted at the periphery of her vision. “We already did.”

She felt like she was drowning in the indelible maleness of him. “Once.” Enough to take the edge off her need, to give her back control over her own body. “And it’s going to remain that way.” She pushed the button that lowered all the windows.

He took another deep breath, as if savoring the musk of her damp heat, and her hands clenched on the manual steering wheel. If she hadn’t been able to sense his own arousal, she’d have thought he was just messing with her. But he very definitely wanted her—the brutal hunger of him was a pulse against her body, powerful and boldly masculine.

“Stop the car.”

She made an undignified squeaking sound in the back of her throat. “No way in hell.” The instant she did that, she knew full well she’d end up on top of Riley, riding him to erotic oblivion.

Silence from the passenger seat.

The leopard clawed at her, more than ready to sate its hunger. “You know I’m right.”

“Is it the fact that I’m a wolf, or the fact that I made you whimper?” Controlled words, so damn controlled. Except for the pulse of heat that kept slapping into her body over and over.

“It’s the fact that you aggravate the shit out of me.” She set her jaw. “I’m not a slave to my hormones.” It was a reminder to herself.

A bark of laughter from the wolf next to her. Close, so close. His breath—hot, harsh, male—whispered over her ear as he said, “I don’t know any woman more in command of herself than you.”

She shot him a narrow-eyed glance. “And that gets your panties in a twist, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Okay, she hadn’t expected that answer. Sweat beaded along her spine as her body fought the urge to give in to the sexual flames licking at every inch of her skin. God, but she wanted to crawl into his lap and just taste . “Let me guess,” she said, thrusting aside the disturbing depth of her response, “you dream of a submissive little wolfie at home, barefoot and pregnant?”

“What’s wrong with that? You saying your submissive members have no value?”

Oh, he was annoying her on purpose. “I didn’t say that. This is about you not being able to handle a woman who’s your equal.”

A very deliberate pause. “I don’t see one nearby.”

She was close to breaking the steering wheel. “I’m going to ignore you now.”

To her surprise, he didn’t say anything in return. When she glanced over, he had his head turned toward the open window. Strong jaw—stubborn jaw—a touch of dark stubble, lips that she knew full well could turn soft when they wanted, hair that lifted easily in the breeze, but was shorter than that of most changelings.

Since when did she find that sexy?

Blinking, she stared through the windshield. It was just a weird chemical attraction, she told herself. She’d been too long without sex and, judging from the ferocity with which he’d taken her, so had Riley. They’d scratched each other’s itch and that was that. Done. Finito. Over.

Protesting way too much, baby girl.

It was her mother’s voice. For some reason, whenever she got stupid, her mental voice turned into her mother’s. Good thing her mom didn’t know about Riley—she’d probably have a coronary.

Wolf and leopard?

Yeah, right.

Having somehow survived Mercy’s driving, Riley nodded hellos at the DarkRiver soldiers Nate had pulled to watch the Baker home and asked one of them to check under the house. “See if you can spot anything that could’ve been used to pipe gas into the house. Don’t touch it. Just check.”

The man’s eyes flicked to Mercy. She gave him a nod and he headed off. It irritated Riley that the male hadn’t immediately followed his order, but the lieutenant in him was impressed. These men didn’t yet know that Riley and Mercy were heading this together—if the soldier had obeyed him, it would’ve betrayed a lack of discipline.

“Owen,” Mercy said to the remaining soldier now, “Riley’s on this with me.”

Owen gave a military-perfect nod, but as Mercy turned away, Riley glimpsed disappointment. Why? Then Owen’s nostrils flared and he knew. Boy had been hoping to be the one Mercy would choose to break her sexual fast. Inside him, the wolf’s lips curled up to display razor-sharp canines, and his next words came from a part of him Mercy alone seemed to awaken. “Ready, kitty?” He kept his tone low . . . private.