Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1 (30 page)

“If I hadn’t been getting my gut sliced open with a butcher knife, I never would’ve let you take that dart for me, Sienna.”

The fight seemed to leave her in a rush. Her shoulders crumpled and she sighed, shaking her head. “Oh God, I know. I’m sorry. It was my choice, Warrick, and I don’t regret it. We need you, and if that dart had hit you and you’d gone feral…”

“And that’s the only reason?”

He didn’t breathe as he waited for her to answer. She lifted her head, surprise flickering in her gaze, then uncertainty. There was something beneath it, something that gave him hope and made everything primal within him flare with need. But then she looked down at her laced fingers and shrugged.

“Should there be another reason?”

Disappointment crushed through his chest, burning his lungs and twisting his stomach. No. Of course there wouldn’t be another reason.

Instead of answering her question, he strode toward the desk, grabbing the folder off it that had the room service menu.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked brusquely.

She was silent for a moment, then, “Nothing. I’m not hungry.”

“I let you get away with that this morning, Sienna, but you haven’t eaten more than a light lunch in probably over twelve hours. And you threw that up at your dad’s house. You’ll eat if I have to damn well feed you.”

“You are so bossy. Fine, just order me a little side salad.”

He reached for the phone and dialed room service.

“And actually, maybe some chicken strips and fries too. Oh, and if they have chocolate cake, I could probably go for a slice.”

From not hungry to a three-course meal? Warrick’s brows shot up and he smothered the sudden urge to laugh.

“What? You said food and I started to realize that, yeah I am a little hungry,” she grumbled and climbed out of bed. “I also need a shower.”

He was about to reply when someone answered the line. Turning his back to her he placed their food order. By the time he’d finished and turned back around, Sienna had already disappeared into the shower and he immediately tried to block the image of her naked beneath the stream of water.

His hands curled into fists and he drew in a slow breath. He really hadn’t touched her since that moment when he’d taken her in the forest, and even then it had been hard and fast. He had been claiming her in every sense of the word.

A knock on the hotel room door had his blood quickening and him reaching for the gun at his waist.

Room service was fast in this hotel, but it wasn’t that fast.

Warrick crossed the room, ready to draw his weapon at the slightest threat. A quick glance into the peephole showed Agent Larson standing out in the hallway.

Pulling back, he swore quietly. How in the hell had Larson discovered where he and Sienna were? Quinton had set up the reservation and the alias, promising no one—not even other agents—would be told of their location.

He opened the door and offered a hard, humorless smile. “You mind telling me how you figured out we were here?”

“I told him.”

Quinton stepped into view and gave a slight shrug. “He is your alpha, Donovan. He has every right to know where you both are.”

“Really?” Warrick nodded and arched a brow. All Sienna’s fears about someone within the P.I.A. being in on it were beginning to sound a little more plausible. “Last night, when the safe house was getting shot up. Where the hell were you, Larson?”

“Donovan, let’s take this inside,” Quinton warned, his low tone taking on an edge.

Larson’s lips curled downward and his gaze turned flinty. “Now I know you’re not stupid enough to accuse me of what I think you are.”

“And what if I am?”

Quinton muscled himself farther into the doorway. “I said let’s take this inside, boys. Now.”

Warrick reluctantly stepped back and let the two men into the room, but didn’t remove his hand from his gun. He’d never had a reason not to trust Larson, but too many things had gone wrong where Sienna was concerned.

“Besides, I come bearing gifts.” Quinton strode into the hotel room and tossed the Walmart bag on the bed. “It’s for your woman. Speaking of whom, where is she?”

“Shower.” Warrick grabbed the bag and glanced inside, then dropped it back on the bed once he spotted the clothes and toiletries.

“His woman?” Larson asked sharply, and turned from where he stood at the window. “I hope he’s speaking figuratively.”

Warrick’s teeth snapped together. “My relationship with Sienna shouldn’t concern you.”

Larson’s head snapped back, his eyes wide. “Fuck me. You actually marked her. Didn’t you? You’d throw away every—”

“I repeat, not your fucking concern.” Warrick balled his fists so he wouldn’t reach out and grab the alpha by his shirt and throw him across the room.

“Look, this isn’t why we came here.” Quinton stepped between the two men and shot a warning glance at them both, before turning back to Warrick. “We have news about Sienna’s father.”

The shower turned off and all three gazes swung toward the bathroom.

Warrick shook his head and lowered his voice. “Tell me. Now, before she gets out here. How bad is it?”

Quinton kept his voice low as well. “He’s alive.”

“Why’d they take him?”

“They’re using him as leverage. They want to make an exchange.”

Warrick’s gut clenched and a premonition swept through him, leaving a trail of sweat on the back of his neck. “And what’s the exchange?”

“They want Sienna to deliver the jump drive. Only then will they return her father.”

His stomach hit the ground. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want Sienna anywhere near those bastards.”

The bathroom door had clicked open, but Warrick hadn’t look away from Quinton as he’d said the quiet, vehement words.

“Oh my God!” Sienna gasped and slammed the bathroom door again, yelling, “Warrick, next time a little warning that we’re not alone before you let me walk out in a towel, okay?”

Larson made a noise that was a cross between a snort and a laugh as Warrick grabbed the bag off the bed and walked it to the bathroom door. He dropped it on the ground and called out, “Clothes are outside the door, Sienna. We won’t look while you grab it.”

The door cracked open again and her arm shot out, snatching the bag and jerking it inside, before the door slammed shut again.

“I mean it,” Warrick repeated harshly when he returned to Quinton. “No deal. I’ll hand over the fucking jump drive myself, but I will not place her in danger tomorrow. Dammit, who the hell are these people? Do we have any clue yet?”

Quinton sighed. “We don’t know yet. A typed note was left on one of the vans. HQ did a check for fingerprints but it came up clean.”

“Of course it did.” Hell. “How do we know her dad’s still alive?”

“We don’t.” This time it was Larson who spoke up. “But we’ll demand proof of life before she meets up with them to make the exchange.”

“She’s not making the exchange,” Warrick snarled.

“What choice do we have, Warrick?” Quinton asked calmly. “We need her father if we want to give the ferals any chance of survival. We’ll keep Sienna safe—you know this. If it was any other woman you wouldn’t be protesting.”

He wanted to deny it, but the words evaporated in his mouth.

“On top of that, they’ll never see the jump drive,” Quinton continued. “Or at least not the one with the information.”

Warrick stilled, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean? Are you saying you—”

“We’ve already switched it out for an identical blank one.”

Right. And the bastards would just fall for that? Warrick shook his head. “Whoever these people are, they’re not that stupid.”

“I don’t know. They were stupid enough to kidnap and torture shifters,” Larson replied with a light tone that showed a thread of steel beneath.

“And they were stupid enough to demand the jump drive for her father. Of course they’ll figure it out, but by then we’ll have Kevin Peters. And we’ll have our men there, hidden, if shit hits the fan.”

Warrick started to reply, but closed his mouth and glanced at the bathroom door as it opened again and Sienna stepped out.

Steam curled out into the hotel room and the scent of shampoo followed her as she made her way over to them.

Hair damp, the simple cotton clothes Quinton had bought still clinging to her damp body. The sight of her was a punch to his stomach, taking his breath away and calling forth the possessive, protective side within Warrick.

Send Sienna directly into the line of fire? Like hell.

Chapter Eighteen

“Thanks for the clothes.” Sienna tugged the neckline up on the cotton, thin-strapped dress and forced a slight smile, feeling ridiculously self-conscious in front of the men. Especially when all eyes went to the marks on her neck.

She knew what they were looking at now. Exactly what the connotations were. Was Larson as angry with Warrick as Quinton had been for what he’d done?

“How was the shower?” Warrick asked gruffly, as if to interrupt the thoughts of all the men in the room.

“Fine. It was a shower.” She cleared her throat and laced her fingers together. “Sorry I yelled at you a moment ago, but I didn’t realize you all were here. I heard voices for a minute, but assumed it was room service.”

“No problem. They’ll be leaving now anyway.”

Warrick’s curt words had her mouth opening in surprise. She looked at all three men, and became acutely aware of the tension in the room she’d missed when she first came out. Her smile faded and a heaviness gathered in her stomach.

“What’s going on, boys?”

“Nothing, they were just dropping by clothes.”

She didn’t believe Warrick for a second. She’d been around these men too much lately to not know when they were holding back.

“Warrick, she needs to be told.”

Fortunately Larson seemed to be on her side. And once again, she knew that whatever Warrick was reluctant to tell her wasn’t good. Even with the hard set of his jaw, there was worry beneath the anger in his eyes.

“I do need to be told,” she agreed, her muscles tightening and her blood pounding with frustration. “And if someone doesn’t spit it out soon, I swear to God I’m going to start throwing things.”

The men were all silent for a moment, but then Quinton was the one who finally spoke.

“Your dad’s been taken by the same people who were keeping the shifters prisoner.”

Her heart clenched and her stomach seemed to hit the floor, but it was nothing more than she’d expected. Still, her voice cracked as she asked, “And what do they want?”

“They want you to deliver the jump drive,” Larson answered without emotion.

“Son of a bitch, I told you not to tell her.”

Why me?
A noise of alarm rose in her throat, but Sienna smothered it. Her first instinct of fear quickly faded away and was replaced with a flat, steadfast determination. No matter what kind of fear the idea of being the one to personally hand over the jump drive instilled, it was nothing compared to what her dad must be experiencing.

He was probably going out of his mind with terror. What if they were hurting him, or torturing him for some reason? Did they know the magnitude of intelligence they now had in their custody? She bit back a bitter laugh. Of course they did.

“Sienna, we’re not going to send you in there,” Warrick appeared at her side, catching her chin between gentle fingers and turning her head to look at him.

The fierce determination in his eyes sent her heart skipping and warmth spreading from where his fingers touched her. Even now he seemed determined to protect her.

Her brows drew together and she pursed her lips. “Of course you will. They’ve requested I make the trade, and I want my dad safe. I’ll do whatever that entails.”

“I like the way this girl thinks,” Larson muttered.

“
Sienna
. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Of course I do and don’t treat me like I’m dim-witted,” she replied sharply. “Look, I wish I were capable of creating the antidote that will save the feral shifters, but unfortunately I’m not. We all know this. But we also know where my father is. We need him back, and I’ll do anything it takes to ensure his freedom.”

“Look, the P.I.A. is still formulating a plan.” Quinton’s pale blue gaze flickered with a hint of respect. “Hashing out the final details. Why don’t you both get some sleep tonight and we’ll call you tomorrow bright and early with the plan. Though maybe the less you know, the better.”

Sienna nodded and turned away from the men, walking to the window to stare outside.

A numbness settled over her as she watched the boats moving in and out of the harbor in the setting sun. Behind her the men were still talking in hushed but urgent tones. She caught the occasional word but wasn’t fully listening.

What did it matter? She would be their puppet tomorrow. Go hand off the jump drive to people who probably wanted her dead. Why else would they be asking for her to make the trade? She knew the P.I.A. would vow to protect her, but it was a huge risk. It didn’t matter, though. Getting her father back so he could help the feral shifters mattered.