A few seconds later, track lighting along the ceiling flickered and bathed the hallways with a dull glow.
Ian stopped outside a closed doorway and held up a finger and pointed. Braden gripped his gun tighter and nodded for Ian to go in. According to the locator, Katie was in the next room.
Ian slapped on the explosive, set the timer and then motioned for Braden to get down. Three seconds later, the door blew, and he and Ian rushed through the entry.
Braden staggered back when brilliant white light accosted his vision. He put a hand up to ward it off before making a sweep of the room with his rifle. It was empty. Save for a cylindrical platform in the middle of the room. A red beam illuminated a tiny container resting on the surface.
He and Ian exchanged glances. Where the f**k was Katie?
Dread tightened his gut as he walked slowly toward the platform. He knew what he’d find before he ever got there.
Almost invisible, sitting in what looked to be a Petri dish, was the thin, needle-like tracking device that Katie had worn.
“Mother f**k!” Ian swore as he spun around.
And then from the tiny holes that ringed the platform, smoke seeped upward, drifting higher and spreading out, faster and faster.
“Get out of here!” Braden shouted as he bolted for the door.
He was nearly there when rails slammed from the ceiling, barring his exit. He yanked around only to be enclosed by another set as they dropped like bricks, imprisoning him in a large square box.
Ian fared no better.
The two brothers stared at one another even as Braden felt every muscle go limp and unresisting. The room swam in his vision, and he felt himself fall. His head rolled to the side. His last conscious thought was of Katie and whether she’d died on the mountain after all.
***
Braden opened his eyes and saw only a blurred blob of vague color and slight movement. He blinked and blinked again, each time clearing some of the film from his vision.
He saw Katie, lying on the floor inside a glass enclosure, her eyes glassy and unfocused, fixed on some distant object. She was soaked, the thin gown she wore plastered to her body. She shivered uncontrollably, her body jerking as she clutched her arms to her chest.
Relief surged, sweet and soothing. She was alive.
Then rage followed, replacing the calm. It curdled in his veins, whispering and calling to the killer inside him. To the predator.
“What did you do to her?” he demanded as he saw Esteban step to the glass to stare at Katie.
Esteban turned, a smile on his face. He looked oddly calm, not at all the demented, frantic man they’d confronted in Switzerland.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
“What did you do to her?” he bit out again.
Esteban glanced back at Katie, his expression almost regretful and as strange as it seemed, tender.
“I regret the pain I caused her, but that’s over with now. She won’t feel the second egg extraction.”
“What?” Braden shouted. He tried to strain forward and only then did he realize that he was restrained standing up, his ankles secured to an iron plate with metal cuffs and his arms banded on either side of his head.
“Getting worked up won’t help you,” Esteban said calmly. “You can’t shift. I’ve injected enough paralytic that I rather doubt you’ll do much more than drool occasionally once it takes effect. It should be hitting you any time now.”
Movement beside him alerted him, and he glanced over to see Ian similarly restrained. His eyes came open slowly, and he blinked as Braden had as he tried to bring his surroundings into focus.
“Leave her alone,” Braden demanded. “You don’t need her.”
“Oh, but I do,” Esteban said. “It’s you I don’t need. Your men have done a good job of gaining access to the compound and my security system, but the inner shell operates independently. It’s steel reinforced and completely closed off from the rest. As soon as the outer perimeter is compromised, the inner hull goes into lockdown. I delayed it long enough for you to arrive.”
“I thought you didn’t need us,” Braden said. “Why the elaborate hoax? Why bother leading us here at all?”
Esteban glanced back at Katie one more time and then he pressed a button and spoke rapidly in Spanish. Two men immediately walked into the containment room where Katie lay, both wearing biohazard suits.
Oh God, Katie. What have they done to you, baby?
He stared in agony as the two men carried her out of the glass enclosure. A few moments later they walked into the room where Esteban stood and laid her on the exam table. She lay there listlessly, her body shaking, her eyes unseeing.
Esteban tended to her, his motions gentle. He touched her cheek at one point and carefully pried her wet hair from her face.
And then he turned back to Braden. “It was actually something that Katie said on the plane. That I hadn’t factored you and Ian into the equation. She was right. I gave you no thought other than thinking you a nuisance. Your instability made you unacceptable for my needs—or so I thought. My scientists are intrigued by you, though. They’ll use you for research, and when you’ve served your purpose, you’ll be disposed of. My concentration, however, will be on Katie.”
“You’ll never leave this place alive,” Ian broke in, his face tight with anger.
Already, Braden could feel his limbs grow heavy. Lead traveled sluggishly through his veins. It was all he could do to lift his head.
“You’re crazy,” Braden slurred. “Certifiable.”
“I assure you, I’m completely sane.”
He turned to one of the men in a lab coat. He rattled off an order in Spanish, and Braden was too disoriented to follow the different dialect. But the intent was clear. One of the men gripped Katie’s ankles and spread her legs.
She whimpered and put a hand out to ward him off. Esteban cupped his hand to her face and whispered soothingly to her. She only became more agitated.
When the other man took a metal speculum and started to move between her legs, Ian went crazy. Braden closed his eyes and did what he’d never done before. He called to the panther. A soft plea. Unfettered acceptance. He embraced his beast and surrendered to the shift.
Chapter Forty-One
Katie fought against the bile rising in her throat. Pain, so much pain. Every touch to her skin was like a branding iron, a hot coal pressed against her flesh.
Her legs were spread, and she felt the cool metal brush against the inside of her knee. She arched off the table, unheeding of the soothing words whispered in her ear. His touch was wrong. It was evil.
And then as they overpowered her, her head lolled to the side. A single tear slipped over her temple, wetting the surface of the table she lay on. Her gaze flickered, and she saw Ian and Braden, their faces contorted in rage.
She continued to stare, sure she’d imagined them. Why weren’t they helping her?
And then Braden disappeared. A huge black cat flew over the table, taking down the man who held her ankles. A scream split the air. Esteban tried to push himself away, but the cat rose with a low snarl. His scream of fear died in his throat when the panther lunged, his jaws closing around his neck.
Blood, bright red and warm, splattered onto her chest. She rolled, trying to push herself upright. She collapsed on her side, too weak to do much more than lie there, staring down at the horror reflected in Esteban’s eyes.
The cat let out a hiss and moved away from Esteban as he stalked the remaining man.
She tugged at her slack and unresisting body, trying to force herself into motion. She rolled and went down on the floor in a puddle of Esteban’s blood. She raised her hands, staring in horror at the sticky, red stain on her palms.
“Katie!” Ian cried.
She looked up to see him straining sluggishly at his bonds, his face a wreath of torment. A gentle nudge at her side, soft and warm. She glanced down to see the panther rub his head over her arm. Then he raised his head and licked her cheek.
She stared into his green eyes and found calm. Slowly she reached out to touch his head. He ducked and butted against her palm and then leaned further in to nudge against her cheek again.
“Katie, get away from him,” Ian shouted hoarsely. “He’ll hurt you.”
She leaned against the panther’s neck and buried her face in his soft fur. She closed her eyes and weakly held on. After a moment, she glanced back up at Ian. “Shift,” she said softly.
His eyes flashed in helpless rage. “I can’t. I won’t hurt you, Katie. Get up. Get out of here.”
Her hand trailed over the panther. Braden. “You won’t hurt me. He won’t let you. Don’t you see? He’s protecting me. I can’t free you, Ian. I’m not even sure I can get up. Trust in yourself. In what you are. Let the jaguar free.”
Ian closed his eyes, his jaw ticking with strain. His fingers curled and clenched, his arms bulged and contorted. He let out an anguished cry, and then he seemingly stopped fighting.
She watched in wonder as his body reshaped. His arms slipped from the cuffs as they became slim paws. He fell forward, hitting the floor as he tore his hind legs free of restraint. His big head reared and flexed, his jaw opening and then closing in a snap of teeth.
He prowled to the fallen man, the last that Braden had taken down, and sniffed cautiously. Then he padded to where she sat. He tried to insert his heavy body between her and Esteban, steadily pushing her back with his strong shoulders. He leaned over Esteban and growled menacingly.
A low hiss escaped from the panther when miraculously, Esteban stirred, his eyes fluttering open. They were glassy and nearly fixed in death. Blood seeped from his torn neck, and Katie couldn’t countenance how he was still breathing.
He raised a shaking hand and let it flutter down over her arm. The panther hissed again, and the jaguar let out a menacing growl.
A gun lay at his side, one he’d tried to raise to shoot Braden. Katie dove for it, mustering all her strength in a final bid to make sure the cats were safe. Her fingers closed around it, and she dragged it weakly into her grasp.
But Esteban never made a move for it. He stared at her, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“I wanted to be free,” he whispered. “God…”
“You should have never tried to play God,” she said bitterly.
“Your God made me what I am,” he rasped as more blood frothed and foamed over his lips.
She leaned down, her body trembling with pain and rage. And fear for what this man’s actions had wrought. “God is no respecter of persons. He doesn’t make one man evil and another man good. He gives us choices. Control over our own destiny. And you chose wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” Esteban whispered. “He made me imperfect. A mistake.”
“No one’s perfect,” she snarled.
Another stab of pain rolled over her body, and she closed her eyes against the urge to vomit.
“But some are mistakes,” he said. “Freaks of nature. Like me…”
He raised his hand again, his fingers twitching and pointing to the table across the room. “Take it,” he choked out. “The journal. Explains…everything…”
The last whispered past his lips, a long hiss, the sound of finality. Blood burbled and spit over the edge of his mouth, and his eyes lost the spark of life.
Then his body began to shake and tremble. She backed hastily away. The two cats placed themselves between her and Esteban, briefly obscuring her vision. They both hissed, and an eerie yowl sounded.
She shoved at them so that she could see. She wanted to be certain he was dead.
What she saw shocked the breath from her lungs. Lying on the floor where Esteban had lain just seconds before was a beautiful silver wolf. Blood smeared his fur and matted his jowls. The blue eyes were fixed in death.
She wrapped her arms protectively around her chest and stared as tears filled her eyes. The entire world had gone mad. Nothing was as it should be.
The gun lay useless in her lap, and she looked down, wondering how she could get herself and the cats out of the compound.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she squared her shoulders. Ian and Braden had risked everything to save her. They hadn’t betrayed her, hadn’t left her to Esteban. She wouldn’t leave them now.
She’d survived. She could feel sorry for herself later. Right now she had to overcome the mind-numbing pain ricocheting through her body like a short-circuited electric system and get the hell out of here.
She thumped the butt of the rifle down on the floor for leverage and shoved herself to her knees. She promptly bent over, vomiting as her stomach curled and squeezed relentlessly.
The two cats bumped incessantly at her legs, urging her forward. They flanked her protectively, forming a tight circle around her with their bodies. And to think she’d once worried about them killing her. As had they.
Sucking air through her nose, she gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet. She nearly went down in a heap and had to lean heavily on the rifle to keep her footing.
The cats followed her to the door, pressed tightly against her legs in an effort to keep her upright. Didn’t retain human cognizance, her ass. They knew precisely what they were doing. Maybe they didn’t remember afterward, but it didn’t mean they were mindless killers.
Her gaze fell on the leather-bound journal lying on the table by the door. Part of her had no desire to know anything about Esteban, but the contents might help Ian and Braden and their teammate Damiano. She might need help every bit as much as they did now that Esteban had probably turned her into a shape-shifting being.
She curled her hand around the spine and tucked it to her breast. Slowly and painfully she headed across the room to the small corridor that she knew led to the lower level. There was a tunnel leading to the outside. She’d heard Esteban talking. Maybe it was to her. She couldn’t remember. He’d spoken to her often, as though he was trying to win her over, to make her understand.