Shifters of Grrr 1 (71 page)

“Breathe deep and hold it,” he murmured against her ear. This was going to be a long haul.

He probed the outline of the manhole and lifted the lid to the side, careful not to scrape metal on concrete and alert their visitors to his and Lucy’s location.

As soon as she gulped a lungful of air, he guided Lucy into the hole and nudged her head under water. Jumping in after her, he replaced the lid, concealing their getaway.

He didn’t let go of her hand as he propelled his body through the water, following a path he’d memorized through countless trial runs. Even if the intruders stumbled upon the manhole, it was unlikely they’d choose the correct tunnels, making his escape plan damn near perfect.

After a hundred meters, his lungs were strained, and he surmised Lucy’s must be too. A bit farther. He gripped her hand tighter, hoping the squeeze would reassure her.

They wouldn’t die in this watery hell.

As he kicked left, tugging her along with him, she thumped her free hand against his arm.

Fuck. She needed air. Converging every ounce of Tiger’s strength, he raced through the last fifty meters of the tunnel.

As soon as they exited the pipe, their bodies floated upward. He redirected Lucy so her face breached the water’s surface. Her gasp, choke, and then inhalation soothed his worst fears, and he relaxed enough to float up and breathe.

They weren’t home free yet. The drone of the helicopter resounded in the distance, above his house, meaning those assholes hadn’t stopped their search.

Well, fuck them.

“One more time, Lucy,” he whispered against her ear. “Shorter, I promise.”

“O-okay.” Her words came out shaky and her muscles trembled beneath his fingertips. It took everything in him to remember that he was putting her through this to save both their asses.

“One, two, three.” He counted down and, after she sucked in a breath and nodded, dove under with her. He guided them to the bundle secured on the ocean floor and retrieved the oxygen mask and tank for Lucy.

Her fingers took over the adjustment of the mask against her face as he slipped it on.

Better. The pressure in his chest eased, despite the lack of oxygen burning through his lungs.

She inhaled and offered the mask to him. He gulped a few breaths and waited for the fireworks to begin.

Time to light up those motherfuckers.

***

The pure oxygen swirled through Lucy’s bloodstream, giving her body an adrenaline buzz. She’d never held her breath for so long.

Sheng had. Apparently, he’d prepared for every situation…including raiders. He was a natural protector. She shuddered. What would have happened had he not been with her? Would the intruders have kidnapped her or worse?

He sorted through the large duffle bag anchored into the boulders scattered across the sandy ocean floor and removed a small remote. Darkness crept over his features as he faced the direction of his house and depressed the button.

Even under water, her ears detected the booming explosion. A shockwave rolled through them an instant later, and she jolted straight into Sheng. His arms remained at his sides, even while she clung to him like a small child scared by fireworks.

Suave, Luce.
She peeled off him, wincing at how reluctant she was to do so. His presence continued to comfort her regardless of their argument over her hosting the Dragon.

He withdrew a set of keys from the bag, along with another oxygen mask and tank, and placed the mask over his face. Sheng jerked on her arm, directing her to follow him. She swam to where he unchained a black board about half the length of his body with two handles on either side. As he flicked a series of switches, the motor hummed low. After securing his duffle bag on one side, he waved for her to get on, and well, there was nothing to grab on to except him.

She climbed atop him, bracing one hand diagonally across his chest and clasping the other under his arm.

They sped off through the darkened ocean. After an hour must have elapsed, she worried they might never surface again. He guided them through the ocean, never once glancing back at the home he’d destroyed.

Because of me.

He’d blown up the entire island because someone was after her. Someone who eluded her as deftly as Sheng wove through the currents. She scowled in frustration, but eventually sank into a meditative state.

Lucy jolted back into awareness as Sheng maneuvered the board toward the surface. She tensed, uneasy about their next destination. They’d fled from one place to another, and she feared she might never be safe again. At least, this time, she recalled why they’d had to flee. Their meeting with the Matchmaker remained a blur inside her mind.

He breached the sandy shore and gestured with a flat hand for her to remain beneath the waves while he scouted to ensure their safety.

A minute later, his hand dipped below the surface, his fingers crooked in invitation. Scrambling forward, she seized his hand. Blinking into the dawn’s rays, she swayed, her knees weak.

He gave her time to find a steady stance before speaking. “Come. There’s a hotel along the coast where we’ll be safe.”

She nodded and followed him, trudging onto the beach, her feet slipping and sliding as the sand sucked them in. Her soggy green tank top and khaki capris chafed her skin, making her itch to get out of them.

As the ocean breeze kicked up, stray strands of her plastered hair whipped around her, adding to the shipwrecked ensemble she sported.

Sheng, on the other hand, emerged from the ocean as though he’d spent the day surfing. The bare muscles of his bronzed, tattooed back glistened each time they flexed as he shifted the duffle bag around. She doubted he’d ever had a bad hair day because those gorgeous, thick onyx locks mastered the perfect wet look. Even his damn pants had dried so fast, he exhibited none of the sodden, water-logged style she did.

Ugh.
She twisted her fingers through her hair to no avail. As soon as they reached their room, she’d call dibs on the shower.

The hotel came into view ahead, and they both quickened their steps. Once inside, Sheng secured their room. As he led her to the elevator, she forced down the hundreds of questions scrambling inside her mind.

He probably didn’t have any answers, either.

***

Inside the elevator, Sheng fisted his hands, attempting to assume control of the emotions firing through his body. Distress over his argument with Lucy gave way to fury toward the mercenaries who’d dared to threaten her and attack his home. His nerves were shot from that near miss. He wanted nothing more than to seize her in his arms and dare anyone to try and take her from him.

He glanced to where she’d glued herself in the corner. Even with her hair plastered in every direction across her head, her clothes battered and torn, her skin marinated in sea water, Lucy was the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

Despite having escaped the island, they weren’t safe. Anywhere. As much as he’d like to kiss her forehead and declare everything would be all right, he didn’t actually know if that were true.

The elevator doors dinged, and he retreated from the stifling box, Lucy on his heels. Once inside their room, he handed her a change of clothes from the duffle—Mei’s—and she bolted straight for the bathroom. She left him alone with no clue about what move to make next.

Except to call the Matchmaker.

Plopping the waterproof duffle bag on the bed, he dug around for the tablet. He punched in her number and waited for her to answer. As her image flicked on the screen, she wasn’t alone.

Holy shit. The entire fucking Council graced the background. Eight Elders.

Dammit. Either they were aware of the attack because one of his men alerted them or they’d orchestrated it themselves. Well, screw them. He wasn’t so easy to kill and they weren’t taking Lucy from him either, unless he
was
dead.

He glared at the screen, waiting for the Matchmaker to speak first.

“Li?” Her voice held a note of apology…and also concern.
Innocent.
What of the others? “Thank goodness you made it out.” She swiveled the screen to her right and he noted his
Kongsi
.

Relief punched a hole through his chest. He nodded to Mei, Kassian, and Fang.

“Where’s Lucy?” Mei’s raised brows and anxious shifting pierced him.

He measured his words before he spoke. “Safe. More than I can say for the men you sent.” He examined each Council member’s expression. Every one of them countered his words with an aura of innocence.

Except for the Empress. That red-headed, she-devil’s gunmetal eyes raked him with disdain.

Fuck. This did not bode well for Lucy.

Tiger’s claws punched out from his fingers, but he kept his face stoic, refusing to let anyone observe his internal reaction.

“We’re sorry about that. Aren’t we, Empress?” Matchmaker scowled at the woman who glared back.

“Not at all.” The Empress curled her lip. “You’d rather sit and debate while the abomination roams free?”

Abomination?
Oh hell no, she didn’t.

The Grand Chamber lit up with dozens of squabbles amongst its members. Over the din, Sheng fired back his retort. “How dare you speak of Lucy like that. What the fuck do you think you know, huh?” Tiger roared at the screen, silencing everyone.

“I’m sorry, Li,” the Matchmaker murmured. “I wouldn’t have informed them so soon, but well,” she swiveled the screen in the other direction, revealing Snake, Delun, and…Boar.

He’d survived the fire, then. Snake must have healed him, because he didn’t bear any scars. Well, at least not on the outside. Vengeance smoldered in his dark brown eyes.

Sheng swallowed hard. No chance of bringing Boar to their side now.

“We’re divided.” The Matchmaker interrupted his musings. “A third of the Council is comfortable letting this unfold naturally. Another third would like to try removing the Dragon from Lucy. The remainder…” Her gaze flicked downward before lifting and meeting his. “Proposes she should be eliminated.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Lucy stepped into the hallway. A stream of curses blasted from Sheng’s mouth. The cloaking of Tiger flared around him and he slammed his fist on the table.

She peered closer. He was speaking with someone on a tablet.

Not one person, an entire group of people. The noise on the other end was as deafening as Sheng’s roaring.

She inched backward, thankful he hadn’t yet noticed her presence, and slid behind the doorway, bracing her fingers on the frame to peek at the screen. Rabbit’s talents came in handy yet again, strengthening her resolve that the Dragon didn’t belong to her. That she was a
Shèhúnzéi
like her dad.

Wow. The small tie to her father made her heart ache. At the same time, the responsibility weighed down her shoulders. How much she wished he were here to guide her.

You must find the one who can.
Her dad’s words echoed in her mind. Right. He’d given her this task because he’d had faith she could handle it.

To whom did the Dragon belong?

While most of the faces on the other side of the screen were familiar to her, some she’d never met before.
Must be the Elders.
Beside Snake sat Boar and
that
man.

An energy twitched inside her as she glanced at him. Like before, she couldn’t shake the notion that something about him was familiar.

“Enough!” A commanding feminine voice rose above the others and everyone complied, quieting. Sounded like the Matchmaker.

Lucy’s hands gripped the wall. This woman determined her fate. Even more, she and Sheng discussed Lucy’s future without even including her.

Damn them both.

“You will not harm her in any way, do you understand? Or you will never see her again.” Sheng’s possessive growl spiraled into her, fluttering her insides. Until she registered the source of his protectiveness.

Harm me?

She’d been right about the inkling that those intruders on the island might not have been sent to capture her.

But to kill her.

Why did the Council sanction such actions when she was supposed to be one of them? Did the rumor of her hosting the Dragon put a target on her back?

“Li.” The Matchmaker’s voice pitched low, soothing. “I promise no one will harm her. To aid her, we must examine her. You must bring her in.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he spun from the tablet, pacing a few feet away. “I can’t do that, not without a guarantee.”

Lucy leaned farther forward to scan the Matchmaker’s expression and determine whether or not she told the truth. Her body bent at an awkward angle as her muscles strained to maintain her balance.

The Matchmaker deferred to an older man in the center. He boasted more wrinkles than an elephant, but intelligence gleamed in his eyes. Instead of answering, he dipped a paintbrush into a pot of ink and scribbled on a parchment. After blowing on the ink to dry it, he offered up the scroll for those around him to read. They nodded, and he displayed it to the Matchmaker and Sheng. Without waiting for Sheng’s agreement, the wrinkled man rolled the paper, dropped a glop of hot wax onto it, and sealed the scroll.