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Fierce Survivor (Sierra Pride Book 7) Page 6
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“Maybe the bottom is made of weaker stuff than the bars and the top.”
“Exactly.”
“Wow. I’m mated to a genius.”
“Mated?” She froze in place.
Shit. He didn’t want to freak her out, especially now that he knew what Bryan had been telling her. “It feels that way to me. I don’t know what it feels like to you, though.”
She reached out and traced his jaw. “It—I think it feels the same.”
Gathering her up, he kissed her hard and fast. Then he let her go. “Let’s put everything we can over on this side—help get more weight over here to knock the cage over.”
It wasn’t like the mattress or bucket were heavy, but he hoped every little bit, combined with their weight and momentum, would help. Together they ran and jumped at the upper part of the bars. The cage rocked a lot farther forward this time, and they exchanged a grin. It felt so good to be working with her on something. They were finding a way out of this mess, and they would survive and then live in love for years.
They counted to three and jumped again, and again.
The cage fell with a crash. “We have to work fast, in case she heard that,” Tyler said.
“Grab the keys,” Cora said, pointing to the bars beneath their feet. The keys had landed on Val’s pile of clothes.
The two of them scrambled with the clothes, which were folded and pressed inconveniently beneath the cage. His heart beat faster. He guessed Val would come out here at any second.
Fuck, he could hear her. Footsteps were already coming toward them from the house. Cora cursed under her breath. Val was on her way, and if she couldn’t kill them outright, she’d probably tranq them in the meantime—
“The tranq gun,” he whispered. They’d have to give up on the keys for now.
“Get it,” she said. “It’s right around the edge—”
He was already reaching for it, but he couldn’t get his arm far enough through the bars to get to the counter where he’d seen the gun. “Quick, you try,” he said, moving out of Cora’s way.
Val’s footsteps were getting louder, but Tyler could barely hear them over the pounding of blood through his veins.
“Sometimes it’s good to not be so bulky,” Cora said with a grin. When she pulled her arm back through the bars, she was holding the gun.
He quickly examined it—it was similar to guns he’d seen his dad use on trespassing shifters. Then he shoved it behind his back, trying to look casual, as if he wasn’t hiding something. It was probably obvious, but then Cora moved next to him, a little farther forward, and he hoped it looked more natural that way.
Then Val stood before them again in the doorway, holding a pistol. “Well, I thought this might be difficult, but not this difficult.” She sighed. “I hate blood, but you’re not giving me much of a choice here.”
Tyler waited, heart pounding. He wanted her closer. That way, when she woke up, he could threaten her life and get her to free them.
She lifted her gun and took a few more steps forward. Just a little closer, Tyler thought.
“Why are you doing this?” Cora asked.
Smart woman, distracting her with talk. Maybe Val would continue to walk forward.
She did, but she swung the gun toward Cora, not bothering to answer her. “You first.”
Tyler couldn’t wait a second longer. He whipped the tranq gun forward and pulled the trigger. Val crumpled in a heap on the floor.
Immediately Tyler reached forward, rifling through the clothes beneath them until he came up with a ring of keys.
He kissed the top of Cora’s head. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Should we tie her up?” Cora asked.
“It doesn’t make sense—she’ll just get out of it by shifting. Same goes for the cage. Her bat is too small.”
The thought of a kidnapper going free rankled, but Cora didn’t see what else they could do. She sighed. “I guess we should get out of here, then.”
“Agreed.”
They left Val or Lynn or whatever her name was on the floor, and Cora took the key ring from Tyler. One of these should work… “Perfect,” she said when the lock clicked open. “We have the key to a car, too.”
Out of the cage. Finally. Her lion eased up on the panic inside her chest, and Cora could breathe easily again.
Tyler grabbed her hand as they walked out of the garage, and a zing of pleasure went through Cora’s body. She had a feeling that her awe and delight in his attentions wouldn’t fade any time soon. They were mates—real ones, not like whatever Bryan had said it was. How could she have gotten so lucky?
There was a shiny BMW parked in front of the house, and it chirped when Cora pressed a button on the key. “The trunk,” Cora said.
Tyler didn’t seem to need an explanation. “I’ll grab Val.”
Cora helped him push Val’s limp form into the trunk, and she pushed the lid closed with no small amount of satisfaction. They climbed into the front seats. As Tyler pulled out of the drive, though, Cora had a sudden thought. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
“We’re so close. There might be some kind of record of where Starla went. We should question Val.”
“She won’t be awake for hours. What about going through the house?”
“Good idea.”
They returned to the house and got out of the car. It felt weird going into someone else’s home without their permission, with the intent of going through their things. Cora squashed her unease and stuck close to Tyler, reminding herself that they were breaking into the home of a kidnapper.
The giant lodge was as rich-looking on the interior as it was on the exterior, with plush rugs on the floor and large, abstract paintings decorating the walls. The living room alone looked like some kind of gallery. All paid for with money earned from tearing families apart, Cora thought.
“I think this is the office,” Tyler whispered, pointing through an open doorway.
Cora glanced around the room, hoping for some helpful file cabinets, but the only furniture was a desk, a chair, and a computer. Tyler powered on the computer and cursed while he tried passwords. Cora opened the desk drawers, but they were empty.
One of the drawers felt different, though. False bottom? She knocked on it, but it wasn’t hollow. It had a weight to it, and she jiggled it. “Something’s—”
She pulled the drawer all the way out of the desk, and heard the sound of papers sliding together. Turning over the drawer, she let out a squeak of excitement. “I found something.”
Tyler turned, his smile wide while Cora opened up the file folder that had been taped to the bottom of the drawer.
“It’s accounting information—deposits, and who made them. Maintenance money here, too—they charged extra fees if the adoption family needed help with further issues. Doesn’t say what those issues were, though. Tyler, this is heartbreaking. Look at all these families.”
“Take the folder,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.” He shut down the computer and picked up the tower. “Just in case someone else can find more info.”
Cora nodded. The two made their way back to the door. Even though she knew Val would be out for at least a little while longer, Cora couldn’t help but feel uneasy. She wished she could find a phone somewhere, but she also wanted to get the hell out of that house.
When they reached the car, Cora had a strange feeling in her stomach, and the hairs pricked on her neck. She went straight to the trunk and fiddled with the latch. “I don’t know why, but I just want to check—”
The lid popped open, and she gasped. The trunk was empty, except for the clothes Val had been wearing. In the far corner was a hole, partially torn and partially chewed through. Just big enough for a bat Val’s size to squeeze through.
Chapter Fourteen
Tyler swore, and swore again. He checked the interior of the car through the windows. No sign of Val in either a bat or human form. Cora hel
ped him lift the seats, moving them forward and back.
“The last thing we need is her materializing in the back seat while we’re driving,” he muttered.
“She’s not here,” Cora said. “You don’t have to check the glove compartment, it’s not big enough.”
He sheepishly closed it. “I know. I just—I don’t feel safe.”
She took his hand. “Let’s put some distance between us and her. We have the car, and a bat can’t fly faster than a car.”
He nodded, and he felt a hundred times better once they were back in the BMW and on the road. Wherever Val was, she wasn’t after them for the moment. He’d drive them to their own car at the edge of Val’s property, and from there they could call the Fourniers and catch them up to speed. Someone would probably want to search for Val afterward, and that was fine, but they’d want to get a lot of shapeshifters on that job. He hated leaving Val as a loose end, but he and Cora were free, and the rest would get worked out later.
The mountain roads weren’t paved, so he forced himself to focus on driving. His side of the road had a steep drop-off, and he was exhausted after everything that had happened at Val’s place.
Cora was flipping through the folder she’d found, trailing a finger down each page, searching for Starla’s name. “Looks like they only used initials,” she said. “But I don’t see her anywhere.”
“Are those more recent dates? Try going back.”
She flipped a few more pages. “Tyler. I think I found her. Eighteen years ago. SF. To the Meilleur family in Florida. Starla’s in Florida!”
Cora’s smile was infectious. He wanted nothing more than to pull over and kiss her, but there’d be time for that later. For now, he settled with taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers.
“I can’t wait to tell my famil—”
An explosive crunching sound filled his ears, and the world around them spun in a blur. “Cora!” he shouted.
The cliff. He turned into the spin, trying to control it before they went too far. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Cora’s body was limp, the door crunched in on her side—she’d taken the impact.
Finally, the BMW’s spinning came to a halt, although the engine still rumbled. A Hummer had stopped in the middle of the road after T-boning them from a lane that intersected with the road they’d been traveling. They hadn’t looked for a second car, but they should have. Of course Val would have another car. This little luxury sedan wouldn’t be enough during the winter months.
Val’s blond head was slumped over the wheel of the Hummer. Good, she’d knocked herself out.
He reached over, breath held, to touch Cora. Her eyelids fluttered. He exhaled. Alive. She was alive.
Val stirred, her head shaking back and forth, but she hadn’t seen that Tyler was awake yet. She was in the Hummer, so she had the advantage here. Tyler thought fast, and slumped his own head over the wheel, but in a way that allowed him to see what Val was doing. He put his foot on the gas pedal, waiting.
She accelerated, aiming the Hummer right for them. She was going to push them over the cliff.
Tyler waited for the right moment, then slammed on the gas. The BMW shot forward, out of her path.
Val was already braking, but without their car in front of her, the Hummer had too much speed and momentum.
The Hummer went over the cliff.
He could hear her screaming from inside. The vehicle landed with a crash, and Tyler wished there’d been an accompanying explosion to really clinch her death.
He gently touched Cora’s shoulder. “Cora Belle, can you listen for a second?”
Her eyes opened slightly.
“I’m going to make sure she’s dead,” Tyler said. “I’m not going to give her any more chances to hurt us.”
Cora nodded and murmured something.
He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.
Chapter Fifteen
“So she’s really gone?” Cora asked.
She hadn’t wanted to move, but Tyler had helped pull her from the BMW, and he was carrying her through the woods to Gabriel’s SUV.
“Definitely dead. No pulse, and all kinds of gory details I’ll keep to myself.”
“Bleeding?”
“She wasn’t anymore by the time I got there, but she was covered in blood.”
“Lots of it?” she asked hopefully.
“Did you know you’re a violent person?”
She growled. “I was born that way.”
“I like it.”
He bent his head down and kissed her. Warmth. Safety. Love. She felt all of those things with him.
Back at the car, he drove while she called her brothers. Gabriel’s voice was a deep rumble of worry, but he quickly settled down and listened while she related everything that had happened. She finished with, “Starla’s in Florida. A family named Meilleur.”
“We can wait to call her until you get back,” he said. “We’ve waited this long.”
“No, call her now. We miss out on too many things if we wait.” She glanced over at Tyler, who was smiling at her. “Well, sometimes it’s okay to wait. But go ahead and call her. I know it means a lot to you.”
It meant a lot to all of them, but she knew Gabriel had taken Starla’s disappearance the hardest. He’d been the oldest after Starla, and the two of them had been told to watch out for each other.
After she ended the call with Gabriel, Tyler gave her a funny look. “What?” she asked.
“You didn’t tell him about us.”
She couldn’t tell if he was mad, or sad, or what. She sniffed the air, hoping for a hint of mood, but she got nothing. She sniffed again. There it was, a faint dusky note of sorrow.
“I wanted to keep us to ourselves,” she said, “for just another day, before we get home.”
“Sorry,” he said, running a hand through his dark hair. “That makes sense.”
She could tell there was more to it than that, though. “Please talk to me.”
“I was feeling insecure. I know you love me, but you’ve never said so, and I was foisted on you.”
She bit her lip hard, trying to summon the bravery she’d need. “I already told you I loved you.”
“When? Because I’d remember.”
“Maybe I was underwater at the time. At that stream near your ranch. But I said it.”
She knew he’d be able to scent if she was lying, open windows or not. His smile stretched big across his face. “So we said it at the same time?”
“Yeah. About two years ago.”
He nodded. “That sounds about perfect. Cora, can we get married?”
She couldn’t help the excited pounding of her heart, but she at least kept her voice even. “We already are.”
“Not like that. Really married. As mates.”
“Yes. Yes.”
Epilogue
Tyler pushed the shovel against the hard ground. Scraping the cattle’s winter pens couldn’t exactly be called fun, but at least there was opportunity for exchanging good-natured insults with Gabriel and Blake. He’d lost a brother in Bryan, but gained several more by marrying Cora.
The spring sun was warm on his back, and it felt good to move this way, to work off excess energy that he felt when Cora was busy planning her and Maverick’s start-up business.
His phone buzzed once in his pocket. He stopped shoveling and glanced at the screen. A text from Cora. Coming back for lunch soon?
He typed back, It’s only ten.
I’ll make it worth your while, she wrote back, and added a winking emoji.
He tried to keep a straight face. “I’m going to take a break,” he said to the guys.
“Whipped,” Blake coughed.
Gabriel laughed. “Fine, a quick break. I’m sure you’ll finish fast and come straight out to learn maintenance on the hay baler.”
Tyler groaned. Equipment maintenance had always been his least favorite chore.
Then Blake�
�s phone buzzed. He looked at it and there was no hiding the slow smile that spread across his face.
Gabriel looked upward, as if praying for patience. “If you guys keep going back for bootie calls, we’ll never get any work done—”
Gabriel’s phone chimed, and he checked the message. “Aw, hell. We’re all whipped. Short break, gentlemen—please your mates fast, because the hay baler isn’t going to help itself.”
When Tyler leaned his shovel against the outside of the barn, his phone buzzed again. Hurry. We have a phone call. Tell Gabe it’s important.
Wordlessly, he held his phone up for Gabriel to see. The three men started walking fast.
When they came within sight of the house, Cora rushed onto the patio. She wore jeans and a yellow sweater that was tight enough to make Tyler’s pants start feeling uncomfortable. But her face looked wrong—concern, anxiety, excitement.
“What is it?” he called, breaking into a jog.
She smiled then. “Come to the phone. It’s Starla! You all need to get in here!”
Free Book!
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Preview of Fierce Lover, the final book of The Sierra Pride:
Chapter One
As her parents’ rental car coasted along the curve of the driveway, Starla was struck with longing. This place, the Sierra Pride territory, hadn’t gone up in flames. The summer air was warm through her open window, and the scents of the dry grasses tickled her nose. This place was familiar, because it had once been her home.
“You doing okay, Starla-girl?” her dad asked.
Thirty years old, and she still couldn’t shake the nickname he’d given her when she came to him at age eleven. “Doing good so far, Dad.”
Her mom reached back to touch Starla’s hand. Even though Starla had come to them illegally, through tragedy and for the gains of a crooked adoption agent, she’d been lucky in her placement with them. They were a good family.