Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1 (23 page)

Well, crap, this guy
was
pretty perceptive. “Something like that.”

“And would you?”

She already had been. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does. Nobody wants to see you hurt, Sienna.”

“Are you kidding me? Nobody gives a rat’s ass about me,” she said with a disbelieving laugh. “I’m just the means to an end. If you guys didn’t believe I was hoarding information, you’d have wiped my memory by now.”

“I’m not going to lie. You’re probably right.” Hilliard sobered and shook his head. “But Warrick does care for you. I’ve known the guy long enough to be able to see it.”

Sienna swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and was horrified to feel tears welling in her eyes. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Obviously the possibility of a future between us is zilch.”

And why had she just said that? Man, he must really be working his big therapeutic teddy-bear mojo.

“Ah shit. I made you cry.”

There was a crunching of footsteps, before she felt Agent Hilliard slip an arm around her shoulder.

“I’m fine.” She shook her head and brushed away the tears. “Really, I am. I understand perfectly why your community has the rules it does. I get it. You need to keep the shifter blood strong. Whatever is going on with Warrick and me is fleeting, and I’m fine with that.”

Right. Like I’d be fine with a lobotomy.
She forced a tremulous smile and hoped he couldn’t read the lie in her eyes.

Agent Hilliard sighed and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sienna. We’re a hard group to get involved with. Most humans have no idea what we are. If we do get sexually involved with your kind, we just end up looking like commitment-phobic bastards.”

Your kind.
It was so odd to hear it phrased that way. But she could understand what he was saying. In fact it’s exactly the impression Warrick had left on her. Not so much the bastard part—well, until lately—but definitely a commitment-phobe who’d seemed to go through his share of women.

“Shit, Donovan’s gonna kill me if he finds out we had this talk,” Hilliard muttered with a shake of his head. “I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“No. I appreciate the talk. Actually, it was a good reminder that I need to keep my feet firmly grounded.”

She knew she wasn’t supposed to trust anyone really, but every one of her instincts screamed that Agent Hilliard wasn’t anything but a nice guy and a dedicated agent. She glanced up at him curiously.

“What’s your first name, Agent Hilliard?”

The agent grinned, flashing white teeth against his dark skin. “Darrius.”

“Well,” she forced a tremulous smile and stood on her tiptoes to brush a kiss across his cheek, “Thank you for the pep talk, Darrius. I really did appreciate it.”

Warrick stood from where he crouched by one of the drugged shifters and shoved a hand through his hair. His gaze darted back to the house for what must’ve been the tenth time in the last hour.

Sienna was in there. Alone with Hilliard, and had been for most of the day. The thought of the two of them spending so much time together sent a restlessness through him that put him on edge. Made his skin itch and his muscles tense. He didn’t much care for the idea of Sienna alone with any guy this long. But it was worse knowing she was with Hilliard—a born-and-bred flirt.

He paced down to the end of the barn where Quinton was just finishing up collecting blood samples.

“You seen Larson around?”

“Took off for town about an hour ago with Rafferty,” Quinton muttered, setting the vials into some kind of lunch-box-looking thing. “Why, what’s going on?”

“I was thinking maybe I should go back to the house and relieve Hilliard for a bit. He could probably use a break.”

Quinton grunted and shook his head. “I’m sure Hilliard is doing just fine.”

Irritation pricked and Warrick’s mouth tightened. “Either way, I think I should go up there to replace him.”

Placing the last vial of blood into the box, Quinton zipped it up and stood. “You know what I think, Donovan? That you should stop letting a slip of a human girl lead you around by your dick.”

A low growl built in Warrick’s throat and his gaze narrowed with anger.

“Don’t get all pissy with me. You know damn well it’s true,” Quinton continued. “She’s twisting you up into knots until you can’t think straight. So you forget to ask all the important questions. She’s a pretty girl, Donovan. But pretty girls are a dime a dozen.”

“I’m thinking just fine.”

“Are you? Then why am I here now? The agency sent me out because you guys haven’t gotten shit out of her yet.”

Warrick snarled. “And you have? How’d that questioning go for you this morning?”

“We’re off to a decent start.”

“My ass. You’re hitting a wall like the rest of us.”

“Then we up the stakes. Let’s bring out the sodium pentothal. Threaten her a little. You’re treating her like a fucking porcelain doll. She’s a suspect, Donovan. You don’t give a suspect the gold-star treatment. And you sure as hell don’t jump into bed with them.”

“Fuck this shit,” Warrick muttered and turned away, striding away from him.

“She’s hiding something,” Quinton yelled after him. “Something big. And she’s using you, Donovan. Did she suck your dick to get you to agree to fly her daddy out here? You know the first thing Kevin Peters will do is demand her release.”

The vein on Warrick’s forehead throbbed and he had to force back the beast inside him that itched to come out. Quinton was poking and prodding, looking for a fight. And he was damn close to getting one.

“He isn’t even answering his phone,” Quinton yelled. “She’s stalling, goddammit. You mark my words. She’s going to run the first opportunity she gets.”

Warrick’s feet dug into the ground at the entrance to the barn. Every instinct demanded he turn and fight. Defend Sienna and explain her fear of not trusting them. Quinton leapt on his hesitation.

“You think you’re so fucking special? That girl will sleep with anyone she thinks will help her.” Quinton’s voice followed after him even as Warrick stepped out of the barn. “It’s the power of being a woman. They know men think with their dicks. You’re above this, Donovan. I know you are.”

Quinton didn’t have a clue what kind of woman Sienna was. The bastard actually had the nerve to—

“But in case you can’t pull your head out of your ass, I’m taking over all questioning and control of this op. When Larson gets back from my little errand I sent him on we’ll start with the sodium pentothal.”

Warrick growled low in his throat and thrust away from the doorway, running back to the house. Anything to put distance between him and the man he was close to decking.

“Hilliard!” He reached the house and pounded up the stairs. “Get your ass on outside and switch with me for a bit.”

There was no reply as he strode in the opened door of the house. Glancing around, he came up empty. Where the hell were they? He paused and breathed in slowly through his nostrils but couldn’t catch anything besides their fading scents. Scents which led outside.

Dammit. Hilliard must’ve taken her out for a walk.

Again, the idea of the two of them alone had something ugly building inside him, but he tried to push it aside. He turned to go back out and find them, but paused.

She’s hiding something.
Quinton’s words taunted him. A reminder that the older agent was right. Sienna was hiding something. And if Warrick didn’t find out what it was soon, she’d be getting a nice shot of sodium pentothal.

He’d almost forgotten that night she’d tried to slip out of the house and he’d found the cell phone she’d somehow managed to keep hidden. When he’d asked her what else she was hiding, there’d been fear in her eyes.

So whatever it was, she either had it on her right now, or it was somewhere in the house. And it had to be small, because she’d obviously hidden it in her dress the night they’d taken her from the lab.

With everyone out of the house, now was probably the time to try and find it.

Warrick moved slowly back into the house, down the hallway and toward the room they shared. His gaze slid around the room. Now all he had to do was try to think like a woman and figure out where the hell she would’ve hidden it.

First off. The bedroom. He started with searching drawers, beneath the bed and mattress, the windowsill. And came up with nothing. Once he was fairly certain it wasn’t in the actual bedroom, he turned his attention to the master bathroom.

The shower—not like he’d expected to find much in there—yielded nothing but soap, shampoo and conditioner. He moved to the counter, checking all the little nooks and crannies above and below.

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.