Her Wild Hero

Kendra hesitated. It was almost completely dark in the building, except for the dim light coming from a small lamp on the table. At least she thought it was a table.

The hybrid gave her a shove that sent her stumbling into the room. She tensed, expecting something to pounce on her and rip her to shreds. But nothing tackled her and threw her to the floor. That should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t.

She looked around warily. There was a large conference table in the center of the room, with half a dozen chairs around it. Along the back wall was a counter with a coffeepot and a microwave, as well as a small fridge. The tableau seemed out of place in the jungle camp.

Despite the everyday office vibe the coffeepot and microwave gave the room, there was an eerie quality to the place that had her checking every dark corner and shadowed crevice, trying to see who was in it with her.

That’s how she found the second-in-command slouched over in one of those big conference room chairs, dead. There was dried blood all over its uniform shirt and down around the top of its pants. He must have bled out while sitting here, and no one had done anything to help. She glanced over her shoulder, but the hybrids who’d escorted her had already left and closed the door. Damn, these monsters were cold. It was like they didn’t care whether anyone lived or died, even one of their own.

“Have a seat.”

Kendra jumped at the deep, guttural voice coming from the other side of the room. She didn’t need to see him to know it belonged to the camp’s former head of security, Marcus Roman. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the sound of it as long as she lived. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen someone his size in a room this small.

But then a chair on the other side of the table slowly spun around and the hulking hybrid materialized out of the darkness. Even sitting there awkwardly holding a glass of whiskey in his clawed hand, he was an imposing figure, and she had to force herself not to take a step back. She’d almost forgotten how scary looking he was.

He gestured to her side of the table. “You can take any seat—except for the occupied one of course.”

She walked as far away from the dead body as she could and sat down across from Marcus.

He studied her with his glowing red eyes. She expected him to say something about the man she had killed, but it was like he didn’t even know the body was there. “I never knew what they meant when they said an animal can smell fear. But I could smell yours the minute the men brought you into camp.”

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that, so she didn’t say anything.

His eyes flashed a darker shade of red as he chuckled. She guessed it was a chuckle—with all those teeth, it was difficult to tell.

“You proved so hard to catch, I thought you’d be bigger.”

He said the words so casually, she almost laughed. She’d expected him to say something more along the lines of, “Talk or I’ll rip off your fingers.”

But just because he hadn’t threatened her yet, that didn’t mean she wasn’t in danger. This monster wanted something from her, or he would have ordered one of the lower-ranking hybrids to kill her already. Sooner or later, this conversation would get around to Declan or some other topic she didn’t want to talk about. No doubt, his nonthreatening tone would change then.

She had to engage him a little, though, unless she wanted him ripping off her fingers in the next few minutes.

“Hiding is actually easier to do when you’re smaller,” she said.

His mouth twisted in what he probably thought was a smile, but it only made him look more menacing than he already did. “I suppose it is. But that doesn’t explain how the big man you were with is so good at it.”

She’d walked right into that one. “What big man?”

The smile disappeared, replaced by a menacing scowl. He set the glass down on the table with a thud. “Don’t play dumb. I can smell him all over you. The big man like us, the one who’s part animal.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out what he meant when he said he could smell Declan on her, and she felt heat suffuse her face. But it was the rest of what he’d said that really threw her for a loop. Marcus didn’t realize there was a difference between hybrids and shifters?

“Where is he?” When she didn’t answer, Marcus growled and slammed his hand down hard on the table. “Tell me where he is. Now!”

As if stunned by his own outburst, the hybrid ran his hand over his flattop and took a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he said, all trace of anger gone from his voice. “I just want to talk to him.”

She let out a snort. “Right. You and your men have been trying to kill us for a week, and you expect me to believe that you just want to talk? I don’t think you and he would have a hell of a lot to talk about.”