Nalini Singh: Branded by Fire

She glared. “I swear to God, you tell him, and I’ll”—what the hell could you threaten an alpha with?—“I’ll tell Hawke you want to go on daily bonding runs with him.”

Lucas didn’t stop grinning, but said, “That’s just mean, Mercy.” He glanced over her shoulder. “But if you don’t want anyone else to know, get Riley a T-shirt.”

“This is not an admission of anything,” she said as she ran into the house and grabbed a spare tee from the stash the sentinels kept there. It made sense since Tammy was their healer and they often came to her bleeding or worse. The tee was a plain gray but when she threw it at Riley and he put it on, it abruptly became much more interesting—the man might make her hackles rise ninety-nine percent of the time, but he was built delicious, all hard muscle and contained masculine power.

Feeling heat bloom in the pit of her stomach in spite of her teeth-gritting control, she turned away just in time to catch Lucas’s smirk. “Luc.”

“I’m a sphinx,” he promised. “By the way, you have visitors. Came in last night—staying in a cabin not far from your place.”

Anger flared, eclipsing everything else. “Why didn’t you tell me my grandmother was doing this?” She knew Lucas and Isabella had a strong alpha-to-alpha bond. Over fifteen years ago, when DarkRiver had been under attack by the ShadowWalkers, Isabella had offered her help, though she’d been dealing with serious territorial problems of her own at the time. In the end, the help hadn’t been needed, but the offer had never been forgotten.

Now, Lucas folded his arms. “I thought you were drowning. Your grandmother was offering to throw you a life jacket.” Blunt words. “And might be one of them turns out to be your mate.” He switched his attention as Riley jogged over. “Hawke up-to-date?”

Riley nodded. “Since I’m down here, I’ll stay on this. What did Nate find?”

Lucas gave him the same rundown he’d given Mercy. “Willow say anything?”

“Only that they took Nash,” Mercy said, putting everything else out of her mind. “Why would anyone run this big an op to grab a college student?”

“Brenna was a college student when Enrique took her.” The withheld rage in Riley was an almost physical thing.

Mercy understood—Santano Enrique, a cardinal telekinetic, had killed Dorian’s sister, Kylie, and viciously tortured Riley’s sister, Brenna. Brenna had survived, but she’d been hurt in ways no woman should have to suffer. “Riley’s right,” she said, and the sky didn’t fall in. “This could be another crazy, or it could be something specific to Nash.”

Lucas nodded. “Parents should be able to tell us more, but don’t count on scent—someone sprayed a heavy perfume throughout the house.”

Riley’s eyes grew flint hard. “Could be changeling.”

Mercy hoped that wasn’t true. Betrayal among the tight structure of the pack was rare, but when it happened it shoved an ice pick of the cruelest pain through them all. “We need to go back to the scene after we hear what Iain and Enid have to say.” She met Lucas’s eyes. “I want to stay on this.”

“Works.” Lucas nodded. “Nate’s helping Emmett run some important training for Kit and the other novice soldiers. It’d be better if he could continue with that.”

An instant later, they felt the vibration of a vehicle getting closer. Nate’s SUV rolled in not long after. Two people who looked like they’d been dragged through hell itself got out the back as Nate stepped out from the driver’s side.

Mercy heard the sound of running feet seconds before Willow screamed, “Mommy! Daddy!” and launched herself off the porch. Catching her in a bone-crushing embrace, her father wrapped one arm around his mate and pulled her into the hug as well. Mercy looked away from the private moment, her eyes locking with Riley’s.

Pure, electric heat.

She held that wolf gaze, daring him to say something. He kept his silence, but those eyes . . . the intensity in them made her thighs clench in instinctive female reaction. She called him a stick-in-the-mud because he was so damn calm, so practical, and in no way hotheaded. But as she’d learned last night, when that intensity focused on a woman, it focused. Hunger tore through her, potent, rough, primal in its sensuality.

“Can you two keep from tearing each other’s throats out during however long it takes to find Nash?” Lucas’s dry tone did nothing to hide the feline amusement in his eyes as he broke into her line of sight. “Or maybe I should be worrying about clothes instead?”

Riley growled low in his throat. “Not your business.” His voice was more wolf than human, heavy with the same need that had Mercy in its claws.

“What?” Lucas asked disingenuously as Nathan began to herd the sobbing family inside. “Come on. Playtime’s over.”

Mercy hung back a little as Lucas went in. “Keep your shirt on next time,” she muttered to Riley, realizing the implication of her statement an instant too late.

“Keep your claws in . . . no, don’t. I liked it.” A pause. “Kitty.”

She felt those same claws release. It took serious effort of will to put them back in. “What am I worried about?” she said instead, drawing blood in a much more effective way. If Riley wanted to mess with a cat, he’d better invest in armor. “I’m never again going to let myself get that desperate—I mean, a wolf ? Do you know how many years it’ll take me to live that down?” The words were almost subvocal, designed to carry to his ears alone. She felt him bristle, but all amusement died the instant she saw the way Willow’s mom was clutching her.

“My baby,” she was saying, kissing Willow’s cheek, “my baby.” Another kiss. Willow clung to her like a little monkey. Her father was sitting beside them, touching his child and his mate anywhere he could reach. The love, the connection between the three was a physical thing. Her chest grew tight with the force of it.

Then she felt Riley enter behind her, and the heat of him was a wash of wildfire on her back. “Iain,” she said, feeling that fire snake into her very veins, “we need to talk to you.” The sooner, the better. “And Enid, too.”

Sascha came into the room from the kitchen right then. “Willow, why don’t you come play with Rome and Jules for a while. They’re starting to drive their mother crazy.” A smile, but the eyes—the white stars on black velvet of a cardinal, the most powerful grade of Psy—were directed at the lynx girl’s parents.

Mercy felt a sense of calm, of warmth, soften the stark edge of fear and desperation in Iain’s and Enid’s scent. It was no surprise—Sascha was an empath, a woman born with the ability to soothe emotional wounds. Now she’d taken a piece of the Bakers’ pain, absorbing it into herself. Mercy wondered if doing that hurt Sascha, but knew her alpha’s mate would never back off, no matter if it did.

Iain and Enid finally let Willow go with Sascha five minutes later. “She’ll be fine,” Mercy reassured them, taking a seat in front of the couple while Lucas and Nathan remained standing against the walls.

Riley, however, came to sit beside her, swinging around a chair to put his arms on the back. “She’s a strong kid,” he told them in his direct, no-nonsense way. “Escaped and hid out with a group of wild lynx.”

Iain smiled, his pride open. “We thought they’d taken her, too.”

“Did you see who came into your home?” Mercy asked, trying to ignore the fact that Riley’s thigh was pressing against hers, the rough masculine heat burning through her jeans to incite her leopard to voracious sexual want . It was on purpose. Definitely on purpose. The wolf was getting back at her for implying he’d been nothing but a convenience. “Even a hint would help.”