Burning Bright (23 page)

Sasha nodded. “Yes. We can take him back, actually. He’ll heal very fast.”

“I think you will have a clinic of your own very shortly, son,” Charles noted. “I heard Felipe talking on the phone with someone he called ‘
Jefe
.’”

“Spanish for boss,” Sasha said absently. A clinic? What in Hades?

Charles led the way back to the lab. Steve had woken but looked groggy with pain medication. Paco measured another dosage into a syringe as they walked in and administered it with a white face but steady hands.

Maybe Sasha had his first two techs for this clinic…

“Gentlemen. You should prepare to leave shortly. I can keep observation to a minimum this afternoon, but any longer and I cannot guarantee privacy,” Charles told Felipe and the others.

“We can leave now,” Felipe said. “Doc?”

“Yes,” Sasha agreed. He looked at Neal. “I’ll ride with Steve.”

“Sounds like a plan. See you at home.” Neal turned and strode out.

Sasha’s adrenalin started to wane. Please, Gods, let him stay focused for another hour, that was all. Just long enough to get Steve home and settled before he started thinking too much about what happened.

He kept seeing flashes of Felipe and Petya, the blood everywhere. He reached for the door to the ambulance, to get in behind Steve, but his hand trembled enough he missed the handle. He couldn’t even feel it.

Felipe, standing behind him, said nothing. The shifter picked him up and deposited him on the bench inside the door and then closed up. Felipe came around and climbed into the passenger seat and they were off.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Afterburn

Sasha got Steve settled in his bed back at the Factory and gave him another shot of painkiller. Gio agreed to stay and keep an eye on him. Sasha followed Neal upstairs and all but passed out on the big man’s bed.

Waking slowly, his body ached, his head thick and uncomfortable. He blinked, eyes reacting to the glare of the bedside lamp, and didn’t recognize the room right away.

“Hey, Doc,” Neal said from nearby. He appeared and leaned over the bed to kill the light, then stretched out next to him. “Welcome back.”

“What?”

Neal’s eyes narrowed. “What do you remember?”

A flash of Petya standing over him hit him. He went cold all at once, like jumping into a tub of ice water. “Petya caught me in the park…”

“Yeah.”

“Steve. Oh Gods, Steve.” He tried to get up.

“Easy.” Neal put a hand on his breastbone, holding him down.

“No.” He batted the hand away and struggled to rise. “Where is Steve?”

“Sasha, he’s fine. Gio’s with him, like you told him to. Everything’s fine, you only slept for an hour.” Neal stroked his hair back from his sweaty forehead.

“What about Petya?”

“He’s dead.”

“I saw it happen…” He squeezed his eyes closed. “Felipe tore his throat out…”

“Yeah…”

“Iosef?”

“Felipe saw him take off in the car.”

“What happens now?”

Neal didn’t say anything.

“Neal?”

“We’re in deep shit, babe. I don’t know what else to say.”

“When do the other tigers get here?”

“They’re here already. Paul’s settling them downstairs in the vacant area. They have their cots and shit, it’s a matter of getting them bivouacked.”

Sasha pulled Neal closer to him, muscles cramping. “This is getting really heavy.”

“You sure you want to stay?” Neal’s voice came out calm, devoid of emotion, but Sasha could feel the tension in his muscles.

“Yes, of course I do.”

Neal relaxed a little. “I’d understand if you want to go back to Madison for a few weeks.”

“Fuck you. I’ve never run from a fight in my life!”

“All right, all right.”

“Do you want me to ask some Guardians to come down?”

Neal froze, eyes staring off into space. “Um…”

“I could have them here in a few hours.”

“We don’t really need them.” He met Sasha’s gaze from inches away. “But thank you. This is going to turn into a shifter challenge. I don’t think we can avoid it now.” Neal paused and gave him a long look. “Are you going to call your aunt? Tell her what’s going on?”

Sasha shook his head. “No, she’ll worry. Or try to come and take over.”

Neal grunted but didn’t argue out loud. His attention sharpened and he focused on Sasha’s mouth. Sasha slipped his tongue out to the edge of his lip, teasing the big man. Neal came forward and they kissed, driving into each other’s mouths. Neal groaned and slipped a hand into his hair, burying big fingers in the loops and whorls. It sent tingles all down Sasha’s back and he grinned against Neal’s mouth.

A knock disturbed them and Neal growled into his mouth. He pulled away and looked over at the door. “This better be important.”

Mitch poked his head in. “Felipe’s waiting. He brought five guys, all fuckin’ thugs from the looks of it and more medical supplies than you could use in a month. Says they’re for Doc.” He looked at Sasha and winked. “Hey. You sure you don’t want some post-fight sex?”

“You’re pushin’ it, Mitch,” Neal growled.

Mitch laughed and made a kissy-face at Neal, then shut the door.

“If he wasn’t so good at his job, I swear, I’d fucking kick his ass into next week,” Neal grumbled, dropping his head against Sasha’s shoulder.

“Is he?”

“Is he what?”

“Good at his job?”

“You have no idea. Mitch is one of the best. It’s why I picked him for the unit. Come on, we can talk about my staffing decisions later. I want to talk to Felipe.”

Sasha rolled out of bed and grabbed the glass of water waiting for him on the bedside table. He drank it in one gulp, parched.

Neal slipped out, and Sasha brushed his hair. His stomach burned from throwing up, but not as hollow. He set the brush down, still not quite back to himself, and followed Neal out.

Carlos hovered in the kitchen area to watch the new jaguars, and Sasha could understand why. The five men ranging behind Felipe rivaled Steve and Mario in size. He faltered, unsettled, but Felipe turned as though having five gorillas around him were a normal occurrence.

Of course, maybe for the El Gatos, it was…

“How is Steve?” Felipe asked.

“Resting,” Sasha answered. “Gio’s with him. Thank you.”

Felipe shrugged, as if to say, “Yes, this is what I do every day.”

Maybe he did…

Sasha shook himself. “I need food and do you have any milk?”

“I’ll get it,” Carlos blurted, jumping up. He moved around the kitchen, banging open the fridge and various cabinets as he put a sandwich together.

Maybe Sasha wasn’t the only one with a case of nerves…

He sat across from Felipe and the other men turned to walk out. They moved without sound or conversation, as though he watched the shadows breathing. Cats hunted silently, but this unsettled him more than anything else he’d seen.

Felipe sat across from him. “I’m sorry,
guapo
. I didn’t think they’d shoot Steve in broad daylight.”

Sasha stared at him. “You were watching?”

The jaguar shrugged. “I told you. The Russians want you for what you did to Alyosha.”

He shivered. “I…”

Neal’s phone bleated and he excused himself to take it. His voice got steadily louder and more agitated, then he shouted, “Fine. They can have the fucking body back.”

He snapped the phone closed and stood, staring at his stove with his chest heaving.

“Neal?” Sasha called. “What happened?”

“They want the body.”

“From the fight?” Felipe asked.

Neal nodded and turned. “Can you take care of it?”

“Of course,” he said. He pulled out his phone and spoke in fast Spanish, then sat back.

“That’s all?” Sasha asked, expecting something more…dramatic, or something.

“Yes. What did you expect?”

“A smoking gun?” Neal murmured with a smirk.

“Shut up.”

Neal laughed. Carlos brought Sasha a messy pile of sandwich and chips, and then served Felipe and Neal. The sandwich tasted fantastic, despite its appearance, and the milk soothed Sasha’s throat.

“What did you put in this?” Neal demanded.

“Some of the chipotle paste and some Havarti,” Carlos answered. “Doc’s has roasted veggies, but I used the last of the sliced turkey for yours and Felipe’s.”

They ate in companionable silence, and Sasha finally started to relax. Paul appeared as he stuck the last bite in his mouth, and came up to Neal. He whispered something in his ear and Neal sighed.

“Send him in.”

Vadim walked in, his now familiar ice-blue eyes cold and empty. His gaze swept the room and Sasha chilled. Where Felipe and his men were soldiers, this man was a killer.

“Harrison. We have problem,” Vadim announced. He came over to stand by the empty chair nearest Neal. “You return body.”

“Yeah. So?”

“You do not understand what you do, I think,” Vadim said softly. He looked right at Sasha. “Or you.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Anger shot through him like lightening and he had trouble breathing. “Petya attacked
me
. He tried to—”

Neal caught his wrist and shook it. “Easy. I’ve got this.”

Sasha blinked at him, breathing hard. “I…”

“Let me handle this.”

He frowned, but motioned with his free hand. Vadim said nothing, just watched them.

“What’s the problem?” Neal asked.

“Petya is not soldier, Harrison. He is Pyotr Ivanovich. Ivan Andreievich’s
son
.”

Absolute silence greeted that announcement.

Maybe Sasha
should
consider going to Madison for a couple weeks…

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Home Front Frictions

After Vadim dropped his bombshell and left, Neal and the others debated ideas back and forth. Sasha could have kicked himself.
Ivanovich
meant “son of,” and he should have picked up that Petya was Ivan’s son. Vadim only ever called him Pyotr Ivanovich, and refused to use his nickname. The fact he was the boss’s son demanded formality.

Angry at himself, Sasha got up and started to head downstairs.

“Where are you going?” Neal demanded.

“Downstairs to sit with Steve.”

“Take Carlos.”

“Downstairs? Neal, it’s—”

“There are a bunch of Tribe tigers down there. Take Carlos.”

Sasha stared at him. He really wanted to argue, but he had a very good point.

Dammit.

“Fine.” He spun and stalked to the door and waited impatiently. Carlos hurried to join him, looking uncomfortable.

Neal murmured, “Be careful,” as Carlos approached.

“I can fucking walk down a flight of stairs.” Sasha whirled in front of the door.

“Doc…” Neal’s cinnamon gaze held his, the concern and frustration obvious. Instead of making him feel better, it pissed him off more and he stormed out of the room.

By the time they reached the apartment Steve and Carlos shared on the second floor, shame filled Sasha. They were all under a lot of stress, and his attitude hadn’t helped. Carlos left him to enter his own room while Sasha slipped into Steve’s.

Gio, the Latino jaguar, looked up when he entered.

“Thank you for watching over him,” Sasha whispered.

Standing, Gio smiled shyly and slipped out without speaking. After checking Steve’s vitals, Sasha sank into the big chair next to the bed. He pulled a large coffee table book of photography onto his lap and started to read.

Sasha started to full alertness, a strange scratching sound coming from the door. He frowned, rubbing his face. The odd sound happened again.

Steve stirred. “Come on in, Anton.” He looked over and met Sasha’s gaze. “Scratching instead of knocking is the old way, the tiger way.”

Sasha nodded, like he understood, but really didn’t. He stood and set the book on his chair as Anton entered. Sasha nodded to the Russian, and then stepped over to the bed. His eyes skimmed over Steve’s body, and pleasure flooded him at how well he looked. A healthy tone now shone under the chocolate skin and his gaze seemed alert. Sasha bent and quickly kissed him.

The faint sound of Anton clearing his throat interrupted the kiss. Sasha straightened, blushing.

Ignoring Steve’s disappointed sound, Sasha studied the older man that entered. Neal told him this tiger came from the home tribe. Even though Anton acted as chaperone for the two younger tigers, Misha and Leo, Sasha hadn’t spent much time with him yet.

Anton appeared to be in his early forties with nondescript brown hair. The pale but ruddy complexion reminded Sasha of relatives from his father’s side of the family. About six feet tall and sturdily built; he seemed rather bland when compared to the coiled energy and muscles of Neal and his men.

Sasha couldn’t determine his eye color since Anton kept his gaze lowered.

“Can I come in?” Even his voice, low and quiet, broadcasted hesitancy.

“Sure.” Steve waved him in.

Spying the brown take-out bag Anton carried, Sasha’s stomach rumbled. No smells wafted from the folded-down bag, but already his stomach, conditioned to Mario’s cooking, growled in anticipation. His stomach reminded him with a loud growl that he hadn’t touched the sandwich Carlos made him earlier, because of nerves. Now, though, his body seemed ready to eat the bag and its contents.

“You brought food,” Sasha told the older man. “I’m starving.”

“Share some with me,” Steve joked, even as he frowned.

“Sorry, I didn’t bring food.” The hazel eyes that flashed upward filled with contrition. “I used bag as camouflage.”

Anton handed Steve the bag, and Sasha watched with interest as Steve opened it. The big man grinned. “Shit. This is even better. Explains why it smelled funny.”

Steve pulled out a huge automatic handgun and two clips. Sasha could see the big Marine relax. Efficient movements checked the clip and slide. Seeming to notice Anton still hovering by the bed, Steve waved him to the other chair.

Sasha’s curiosity peaked. “Why hide it? Neal wouldn’t care.”

The hazel eyes rolled. “Next door is teaming with testosterone-loaded tigers, all tense and ready to fight. My carrying around a firearm they could see as a challenge. Without my status of tribe teacher to shield me, I do not need to give them an excuse to start trouble.”