'That was a really bad dream', Kasumi thought as she started to analyze it. The dream had started well enough... Looking up at her father, trying not to fidget, she'd recited the marketplace gossip, and she'd remembered every detail too. He'd actually smiled and said he couldn't do without her. But somehow twenty years had passed, her boss stood over her hospital bed and was saying a disabled Marine wasn't any good to him. He'd walked away, leaving her there. Alone.
Even now, wide awake, she felt the aching loss in her chest. Only…the ache was real. Her ribs really did hurt. This was more than a nightmare residue. Her sniper-damaged knee ached like a pulled tooth, and her skull throbbed like hell. Couldn't be a hangover. She hadn't tied one on since Smith recruited her into his estrogen-heavy, covert ops unit.
When she opened her eyes, light blasted through them like a frag grenade, and she barely managed to muffle the moan. Just the thought of turning her head had bile flooding her mouth. 'Then don't move, Sergeant. Just assess.'
She was curled up with her cheek resting on cold cement. An ugly feeling crept up her spine when she realized her hands were tied in behind her. Narrowing her eyes to slits, she took stock of the room. Exposed beams, cinder-block walls, and tiny rectangular windows near the ceiling. The stench of feces and sickness mingled with a musty smell like mildewing socks. 'Basement.'
A gray-haired woman lay nearby, her back to Kas. Familiar-looking. That was it. Her memory engaged.
'Rescuing a woman who was trying to escape from a man. Check.
Didn't win. Check.
Now, tied up in a basement. Check.'
Probably concussed, too, considering the speed of her thinking.
Her day had definitely gone to hell. 'I might as well be working.' Why the hell had she risked her life when a phone call to the police would have done the job?
The answer to that really sucked. She'd acted all macho—and stupid—to prove she still had it. That she wasn't irreparably damaged. But she was. In the hospital, Mr. Show-no-emotions Spymaster had looked at her with pity; he didn't think she'd heal enough to return to duty. So she'd jumped right into the first fight she could find. 'Act any dumber and I might as well be a guy.'
Well, with luck, her inept rescue could be salvaged. The idiots hadn't tied her legs.
Hearing footsteps, Kas froze, watching through dark eyelashes as the guy she'd fought appeared. Shaved head, built like a linebacker, all muscle. Ripped off sleeves showed tattoos: eagle, globe, and anchor; bulldog; skull and crossed rifles. "Hey, BeastieBoy." The man walked to a metal kennel near the stairs.
A naked teenager with shaggy blond hair huddled in the far corner of the cage. Shivering. Scared half to death. Eyes sunken, he was skinny, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Bruises and abrasions—even burns—marred his fair skin. Kasumi's breath hitched. 'Tortured?'
Baldy slapped the top of the cage with his fist, making the kid jump. "You ready for another session, pussy cat? Just tell me how to make new beasts, and I won't hurt you anymore."
"I won't tell you anything." The boy's voice cracked on the last word. 'Brave kid.' Kas cheered silently even as her stomach tightened in fear for him. 'And what did the asshole mean by making new beasts?'
"Dumb fuck." Baldy raised a long rod—a cattle prod. The kid was as far back as he could get, but it wasn't far enough. He jerked at the shock of the prod, and the bastard didn't stop, kept jamming with the prod until the boy screamed.
Teeth grinding together, Kas yanked at her ropes. And then the kid…blurred. A huge tawny cougar stood where the boy had been. A chilling snarl ripped through the room, echoing off the concrete walls. The hair on Kas's arms rose. 'What the hell? Kid one moment, the next, a...a mountain lion.'
She sucked in a hard breath, tried blinking her eyes. The big cat still paced the cage. 'Am I drugged? Like when Private Rivera had a bad reaction to morphine and spent hours screaming about ghouls eating his heart.' Or maybe she had a concussion. 'Yeah, this wasn't happening.' She didn't believe in ghosts, ghouls, or people changing into mountain lions. Woo-woo stuff was for flakes and druggies.
"Cut the crap, Dwayne." A man said from the stairs. White, average height, heavy build. Older, in his sixties. Wearing a suit. Scarred knuckles matched his battered face, nose busted in the past, thin lips and dead-cold eyes. Might be in nice clothes, but the body inside said thug. "He can't talk in cat form."
"Not my fucking fault. I only tapped it," Dwayne said. When the cat swiped at the cattle-prod with three-inch claws, he used the prod until the cat shrieked in pain. "It's not gonna talk anyway." Dwayne tossed the device onto a table in the corner. "Fucking thing would rather starve. Look at it—it's dying."
"Dammit." The suit crossed the room to the cage where the cat paced back and forth. "It's amazing he's still alive. He should have died the first week with what you did to him. The creatures are fucking strong."
"An' you really want to turn into that?" Dwayne spit on the floor. Kas stared. 'The suit wanted to become an animal? Was he insane?'
His face turned ugly. Brutal enough that Dwayne took a step back. "I'm not paying you to think. Just to get answers." He glanced over his shoulder. "What happened with the old bitch?"
Dwayne walked over and, with his foot, he shoved the woman onto her back. Hands and feet tied, she blinked blankly as froth trickled from her toothless mouth. "Another goner." Dwayne nudged her with his boot.
"Get rid of her."
"Will do." Dwayne's mouth pulled into a twisted smile as he set his boot on the woman's throat. Before Kas could move, she heard the crunch of breaking cartilage, and then it was too late. Sucking air through her teeth, she tried to stay motionless against the fury rising inside.
Expressionless, Dwayne watched the old woman's strangling efforts to breathe, her death spasms. When her body finally stilled, pleasure shone in his eyes, and his filthy jeans showed his erection.
'Sick bastard.' Kas clenched her jaw. She should have done something, created a diversion. 'I didn't save a helpless woman.' Her war-torn past stretched out behind her, littered with bodies—testaments to the times she hadn't moved fast enough, discovered enough information, or pushed herself hard enough. The ones she'd failed.
"You were clever to test this first, boss." Dwayne glanced at the body. "You could have ended up like her."
"Why are they dying, dammit? Why the fuck don't they change?" The suit hit the table with his fist, then stared at the dead woman. "They've all been druggies, alcoholics. Maybe they're too unhealthy to survive being bit." When his gaze lit on Kas, he walked toward her. She closed her eyes completely. "Didn't kill her, Dwayne?" His voice held a thinly concealed taunt. "The bitch looks healthy enough. Let's give her a try."
"No. She's mine. I kept this piece of ass for me, not you." Kas's skin crawled at the thick lust in his voice. Icy fear punched past the tight grip she'd maintained on her emotions.
"You can fuck her all you want…after." The man slapped her hard. "Still out. Toss her in the cage while I tranq the cat." A second later, Kas heard the whap of a tranquilizer gun. 'Fuck, what were they planning? Cant afford fear—push it aside.'
When Dwayne grabbed under her arms, Kas made her move. Clamping her elbows to her sides, she pinned his hands and swung her legs up toward his head. She opened her eyes in time to ensure that her feet hit him in the face. The crack of impact felt infinitely satisfying.
Baldy toppled backward, releasing her. Jaw set tight, she rolled up and onto her feet. He rose, shaking his head, looking like he'd been raised on steroids instead of candy. Considering the Marine tattoos covering his neck and arms, his fighting skills might be as good as hers. Kas took a step back, feeling cartilage grate. That kick hadn't done her knee any favors. She back-pedaled toward the stairs, trying to disguise her limp. As Dwayne advanced, she dropped into cat stance, the foot in front tapping the floor lightly, ready to kick him into never-neverland.
"Don't move, cunt." Kasumi froze. The suit had the tranq gun in his hand, dart already loaded, aimed right at her chest. He motioned to the panther's cage. "Crawl in or Dwayne will stuff you in there unconscious."
She took a step back. 'In with the mountain lion?' The rush of terror made her head spin. "No way."
"Open it," the suit said to Dwayne. Scowling, Dwayne worked the combination padlock and half opened the door.
"Stop dicking around and just shoot her. Better yet, give her to me for a while. When I get through, she'll beg for the cage." If he tranqed her, she wouldn't have a chance of escaping. Eyeing the groggy cat warily, she bent and entered the cage, feeling Dwayne's anger like a wave of heat as she crawled past. The cat was on its side, head nodding, eyes glazed. "Do it before he changes back." The suit slammed the cage door shut.
She turned, "Do what—" and the psycho shoved the cattle-prod into her stomach. Fiery pain blistered across her skin, and with a yell, she staggered backward. Right into the snarling cat. She landed hard, tangled in its legs, scrambling to get away. Paws seized her. Its claws ripped into her back, and the mountain lion sank its teeth into her shoulder. "God!" Agony tore through her. She kicked, nailing it in the stomach. The animal snarled viciously. She shoved herself free, its claws tearing her skin. Rolling away, she scrambled into the corner farthest from both the cat and the cattle-prod.
"That'll do." The suit picked her wallet up from the table and tossed it to Dwayne. "I gotta leave. Give your buddies on the force some green in case anybody asks about her."
"Got it." Said Dwayne as he looked at the wallet in his hand.
The suit scowled at the lion. "Go ahead and do whatever you want to get answers out of the kid. He's dying anyway."
Dwayne's eyes lit and he smiled. "I need to pick up a few things to use, then I'll start. You'll have your answers."
'Torture?' Kas's stomach turned over. As they walked up the stairs, she realized they intended to leave her caged with the cougar. Kas pushed her face into the wire. "Let me out of here!" The basement door closed, and the overhead bulb snapped off. The only illumination came from the tiny windows near the ceiling. Bad light for her, good light for a mountain lion.