Turning Payne (14 page)

Riley stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and touched the mark on her neck. What had she allowed him to do? Her body trembled with uncertainty. Everything that had happened in the past week seemed like a blur when he was holding her, kissing her. There was nowhere else she'd rather be than in his arms.

She ran her fingers over her arms. The bruises and scrapes were gone and her ankle no longer hurt when she put her full weight on it. And she was more than a bit freaked out. Not that anything should surprise her anymore, but for some reason it did.

"You okay?" Turner asked, his voice muffled on the other side of the door.

She breathed out heavily and fought the urge to let him in. His presence tugged on her like a magnet. Every nerve in her body cried out for his touch. "I just need a few minutes."

Her senses were sharpened, and she could actually feel Turner's presence, knew when he walked away and in what direction. She felt his frustration, his growing panic the longer she stayed hidden in the bathroom. She wanted to be back, curled up in Turner's bed, his arms wrapped around her, but she couldn't control the cold fingers of anxiety that crept up her chest and into her throat.

She straightened her shoulders. If she could survive the past week, she could handle whatever this mating thing was. Opening the bathroom door, she took a deep breath and walked down the hall, his presence calling to her, as if an invisible cord connected them. 

He was standing in the living room, his back turned, staring blindly out the large windows at the city below. He'd wore a pair of grey sweats that hung low on his waist, but his back was exposed, displaying tightly coiled muscles. Damn, how was she supposed to concentrate when he looked like that?

"You really should put a shirt on," she sighed, rubbing her arms as she came to stand beside him.

He gave her a lopsided grin and tugged on the oversized t-shirt she wore. "My shirt is currently occupied."

She smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood, even though she could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and the strain in his face. She looked out the window and let out a shaky breath.

He pushed the hair off her shoulders and rubbed his thumb over the tender wound on her neck. "You want to talk about this?"

She turned into him, unable to resist his touch. "You marked me."

"You asked me to," he said softly, cupping her cheek and running his thumb along her bottom lip, making her shiver.

She'd more than asked, she'd begged. Even now, with a single touch, he affected her in ways that sent her whole system into chaos. 

She looked down at the floor. "My bruises are gone," she said, her hands instinctively resting just above the waistband of his jogging pants, fingers tingling at the sensation of his skin. Her breathing roughened, her arousal beginning to grow. Where the hell was her self-control? She dropped her hands. "My ankle doesn't hurt anymore, either." 

He dropped his hand and let her move away. "It's the mating hormone. The first time it enters your system it does something to your metabolism. Speeds up the healing process." He shrugged. "I don't really understand how it works. Chase could explain it better."

She wondered what other changes were happening inside her body. "And this connection that we have, the way I can hear your thoughts, that's part of it?"

"Not usually." He picked up a glass of amber liquid from the side table and took a long swallow. "I've never heard of a human mate having that ability before, especially not before they've been marked."

"My grandfather was a metamorph. Maybe that has something to do with it."

He stared into his drink, frowning. "Maybe."

"So what happens now?"

He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, then put the glass down and turned back to her, his gaze steady. "You'll move in with me."

"Whoa." She was fine with staying with him while her sister was being treated, but after that? "That's a little fast, don't you think?"

He took two long strides towards her, and pulled her towards him possessively. "You're my mate. You belong with me, here."

Nervous awareness sizzled along her skin. She glanced away for a second before looking back at him. "What if I don't want to move in with you?"

His whole body tensed. "That's not an option."

Riley didn't like where the conversation was going. "Says who?"

The knot in his jaw jumped and his eyes narrowed. "Says me. You're mine now–"

"Yours?" A mix of emotions stirred inside her. The thrill of being claimed and possessed went against everything she believed in. She shook her head fiercely. "I'm not something to be owned."

"That's not what I meant." He took her hand and placed it on his chest over his heart. "I'm just as much yours as you are mine. We're mated now. There's no walking away from it."

"That's ridiculous. Your mother left your father and—"

"And it killed him," he snapped, silver eyes blazing.

Riley blinked up at him. "You can't be serious. He committed suicide, it was his choice—"

"Because he still believed she was alive. He went insane with grief. He fought his animal and it went feral, destroyed him from the inside out. He loved her, yes, but it was more than that. Once you're mated, your souls are tethered to each other. Losing her broke him."

Heavy silence filled the space between them.

She pushed on his chest, trying to free herself from his steel-like grip. "So you're saying that if one of us walks away, we'll go crazy?"

Turner dropped his hands heavily beside him and stared at her, his expression furious, as if by asking the question she had somehow betrayed him

She swallowed hard, hating the pain she saw in his eyes, knowing she put it there. "I just want to know it works."

"You're
human
." His tone was cold, clipped. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jogging pants and turned back to the window. "You can leave whenever you want."

She felt the walls building between them, but she needed to know more. "I don't understand. You said—"

A growl rumbled from his chest. "I was talking about metamorph mates. You're human," he stated harshly. White teeth flashed dangerously. "You'd feel the tug to come back. The physical desire to be with me, but it's nothing you couldn't handle. It's the animal within a metamorph that makes it impossible to walk away." He inclined his head mockingly. "Is that what you want, Riley? To walk away?"

He'd twisted her words. Of course, she didn't want to walk away. She wanted
him
, but she had her sister, her job, a life. Could she go back to those things after everything that had happened? 

"Everything's happened so fast," she said quietly. "I just need time to think."

His cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, cursing when he read the text. He grunted, and drained the last of his drink, slamming the glass on the table when he was done. "Take all the time you need."

He disappeared down the hall and returned a few minutes later, fully dressed.

"You're leaving?" she cursed, the desperation heard in her own voice.

He stomped across the room, his jaw clenched, every line of his body radiating frustration. Riley's breath caught in her throat as his hands gripped her head, and his mouth lowered towards hers.

He didn't kiss her, he devoured her. When he finally tore his lips away, they were both breathless. He pressed a rough kiss on her forehead.

"I'm needed at the agency." He untangled his fingers from her hair, and let his hands slide slowly down her arms. "I'll ask Lora to come by and keep you company if I'm not back by tomorrow."

She saw the quick sliver of fear that swirled in his eyes and knew he was keeping something from her. "Is everything okay?"

He gave her a forced smile, and walked towards the elevator. "It will be."

Turner stormed into the medical facility where Chase and Jacob waited for him, their expressions grim. They stood in the operating theater, looking down through the windows at the young woman on the table. Surgical lights illuminated her frail form, exposing the multiple tubes and wires inserted and strapped to her body.

"What the fuck happened?" Turner snapped.

"Where's Riley?" Chase's voice was clipped, disapproving, as if he already knew the answer.

"At my place. She doesn't need to see this."

Jacob cocked an eyebrow at Chase in a I-told-you-so manner.

Chase cursed, his brows drawn down in a frown "She needs to be here. We don't know how much longer Kiera has. If she doesn't make it—"

"We're not losing her," Turner growled.

"She's flatlined twice already," Jacob said evenly.

"Why the fuck didn't you call me sooner?" Turner scraped his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. There had to be a way to save her.

"Everything was destroyed in the explosion," Jacob said, staring down at the woman on the table, his back to Turner and Chase. He placed his palms on the sill and leaned forward. "We're working with Kiera's blood samples to see if we can locate a specific substance that she was injected with, but so far we haven't found anything other than metamorph DNA."

"My DNA," Turner muttered.

Jacob nodded, turning back to the other men. "Most likely from the transfusions."

"Boyd mentioned something about bone marrow and blood plasma. Maybe there's something there."

Jacob glanced at Chase and both men frowned.

"What?" Turner demanded, when he saw the apprehension that tightened the lines around his brother's eyes.

Chase shook his head and looked away.

"One of the surgeons suggested something similar," Jacob said.

Frustration boiled in Turner's chest. "Then why aren't we doing it?"

"It would require an expedited bone marrow transplant as well as a blood transfusion." Jacob's expression was unreadable, his tone stoic. "It's a complicated procedure if we had multiple donors, and at the moment we've only been able to find one match."

He didn't need them to name him to know who the match was. "Then let's get started."

"I can't let you do it," Chase snapped.

"And I can't let my mate's sister die."

Chase stared at him in shock, while Jacob merely gave him a knowing smirk.

"You marked her? When?" Chase growled.

"What does it matter? It's done," Turner snarled, turning his back on his brother. He spoke to Jacob, "What do I have to do to get started?"

Chase cursed again.

"We don't know if it will work," Jacob said. "Even with your ability to heal quickly, the risk is just too great."

Turner took a deep, hard breath. "People donate bone marrow and blood all the time."

"But not the quantity that they'll need from you." His brother's voice was clipped, pained.

"Chase is right." Jacob's face, always the mask of calm, was doubtful. "It's too risky."

"I don't care." Turner shook his head, ignoring the fierce look Chase gave him. He would save Kiera, or die trying. "I have to do this."

* * *

Riley tossed and turned all night. Unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong, she showered, and pulled on a pair of Turner's jogging pants and a hoodie. The clothes swallowed her, but it would have to do until she had the chance to go back to her place. There was something comforting about wearing Turner's clothes anyway.

All of Turner's mercurial moods flooded through her as if she were experiencing them herself. She could feel him. Sense him. The connection was blurred, but despite the distance between them, it was still there.

Come back
, she pushed into the void—there was no response.

She sat down heavily on Turner's bed and breathed in the heady scent of him that still lingered in the room. Her body tingled in response, sending a wave of arousal pulsing through her veins, stirring a hunger that only Turner could satisfy. She huffed and through herself backwards on the bed, pulling a pillow over her face, screaming in frustration into it.

"Riley?" A woman's voice trailed down the hall. "It's Lora."

With a sigh, Riley sat up. "I'll be right out."

She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and glanced at her reflection. Exhaustion marked her face, and her eyes were glossy, rimmed with dark circles. How long had it been since she'd had a full night sleep?

Feeling nearly boneless, she made her way to the living room where Lora was waiting. Lora wrapped her arms around Riley in a tight embrace, hugging her until Riley couldn't breathe. She was strong for such a small woman, but then she was a metamorph, a werelion like Turner and Chase. 

"I'm so glad you're okay." Lora pulled back, her golden eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I'm sorry I let the men up. I should have known to check the surveillance cameras, but—"

Riley placed her hand over Lora's and squeezed. "It wasn't your fault. He would have found me one way or another. I'm just glad you weren't hurt."

Lora gave her another hug, then swiped at her eyes. "I picked up a few essentials." She reached for a large shopping bag and handed it to Riley. "I had to guess at the sizes, so I hope they fit."

Riley trailed behind her, into the kitchen, watching as Lora scavenged through Turner's pantry and fridge. 

"I should have brought food. Turner never has anything good in here. I doubt you want to order pizza—" Lora covered her mouth and her eyes went wide. "Sorry, too soon?"

"It's okay. But I think it's a bit early for pizza."

Lora shrugged as if disagreeing.

"Did Turner ask you to bring this over?" Riley frowned as she peeked into the bag filled with clothes, a toothbrush, bras and underwear. There was even one of those smutty romance novels that Kiera always read.

Twisting the lid off a jar of pickles, Lora nodded. "He texted and asked me to drop by, said you might need a few things."

"Did he say when he was coming back?"

She shook her head. "When it comes to work, there are some things you don't want to know. If I knew every time Chase put himself at risk, I'd drive myself crazy with worry."

Riley nodded, understanding the feeling.

"Oh my god." Lora paused, a half-eaten pickle in her hand, her eyes wide, staring at Riley as if she had just sprouted two heads. Her mouth curved up in a smile. "I can't believe I didn't notice it before."

"What?"

Lora rolled her eyes and pointed the pickle at Riley. "He marked you. I can't believe it. Does Chase know? I swear I'm going to kick his butt if he knew and didn't tell me."

Riley's cheeks burned, and she was certain she was all shades of red. She looked down and frowned.

"You don't seem happy about it." Lora's voice grew serious. Riley glanced up and caught the other woman's hard expression. "If he did something, I'll—"

"No." Riley shook her head. "I said some things and I think he's still angry with me."

"He might sulk for a day or two, but he'll come back." Lora winked, and pulled another pickle out of the jar. "They always do."

She smiled tightly. "I hope so."

Lora started scavenging in the freezer. "It's physically impossible for him to stay away for too long, trust me." She pulled out a carton of ice cream and scowled when she found it empty. "Does the man not eat?"

Riley laughed; she'd wondered the same thing. "Maybe he's really a vampire."

Lora gave her a blank stare, and then burst out laughing. She wiggled her eyebrows. "A werelion vampire, now that's sexy."

Riley groaned. "Please tell me they don't exist. I don't think my brain can handle any more surprises."

"I've never met one, but"—she shrugged, a wide grin on her face—"who knows."

Riley chuckled and stood, only to have her leg buckle from a sharp pain in her back. Catching herself before she collapsed, she cried out, as the pulsing ache shot through her leg and up her spine.

"Riley," Lora cried out, rushing to her side. "What's wrong?"

She gasped trying to catch her breath as the pain subsided. Lora helped her to the living room and onto the large sofa. Riley closed her eyes and swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. It wasn't just the pain, but an extreme sense of panic that overwhelmed her. Something was wrong. She knew it.

"Call Turner," Riley ordered.

Lora didn't argue. She took her phone out of her purse and dialed, shaking her head when he didn't answer.

The pain subsided, but not the alarm that tightened her chest.

A deep frown pulled at Lora's brows. "What's going on? Do you need a doctor?"

"No." Her forehead was cool and damp when she touched the back of her hand to it. The pain had come so suddenly, but it wasn't like anything she'd ever experienced before. It was as if it was happening outside her body, and she knew what that meant. The pain wasn't hers—it was Turner's.

Riley opened her mouth to speak, but the ping of the elevator and the growl in the hallway stopped her. For a moment, she thought that she had been wrong, that Turner had returned, until Chase charged into the room, blue eyes blazing.

His gaze only softened when he saw Lora, but the cold stare quickly returned to Riley. He was furious, but it was the distress in his expression that made Riley's skin prickle.

"Get your stuff," he growled. "You're coming with me."

Lora placed her hand on her mate's chest, her head didn't even reach his shoulders, but he stopped when she stepped in front of him. "What's going on?"

"I'm not letting my brother die because of her."

A sharp nod in Riley's direction let her know exactly who he was talking about. 

"Where's Turner?" Riley asked cautiously.

"Strapped to a board, bleeding to save
your
sister," Chase snapped.

She felt her breath leave her in a solid swoosh.

Lora mumbled something to Chase that Riley couldn't hear and she saw his shoulder's drop. He pulled Lora to his chest and kissed the top of her head, before turning back to Riley.

"You're the only one that can stop him," Chase said, his voice  softer, but the tension in his face remained. "He's willing to die to save Kiera. I know she's your sister, but he's my brother."

And her mate
. She blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes. Was he really asking her to choose which one should live?

"What about Keira?" Riley asked, averting her gaze. She understood Chase's panic. He loved his brother as much as she did her sister. "What happened?"

"Her heart stopped twice last night. Once again this morning. Her organs are shutting down."

The room started to spin around her, but she locked her knees and took a long steadying breath.

"There's a chance that Turner's blood and bone marrow may help, but the amount that it would take…" Chase swallowed hard, looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "Not even a metamorph could survive."

Anger stirred in her. Turner had promised to tell her if Kiera was in trouble. He kept it hidden, and now she could lose them both.

Every muscle in her body was vibrating. "Take me to him."