Author: J.D. Tyler

"You bet."

Nick rose. "You've got an hour to pack, and you'll study the map on the way. Take enough supplies for a two-day hike going and coming." He winked at Daria. "A piece of cake for our wildlife biologist."

She started out, and he caught her arm. "I'll just be a second."

"I'll wait down the hall."

Once she was gone, Ryon posed his burning question. "Will I come home from this op alive?"

"I don't know," the commander replied honestly.

"But you wouldn't tell me if you could?"

"Something like that." His voice was strong. "But I do know that you need her on this one. If she doesn't go, the op will fail. And you won't make it home at all."

"Christ," he muttered. "Better get moving, then, right?"

"I'll help you as much as I can from here. You need me, just speak to me."

"I will." He shook his boss's hand, then gave him a slight smile. "Until I get home."

"You bet."

Yep, it must suck to know the future.

In that moment, Ryon wouldn't trade places with Nick for all the money in the world.

. . .

Aric and Jax had dropped them off miles from August Bradford's estate with the promise that Ryon would keep in touch, and promise to contact them the instant he knew they were ready for extraction. In advance if possible.

The plan was to pick them up in the same spot. But plans had a way of going FUBAR.

Ryon thought Daria endured the helicopter ride pretty well, considering her white-knuckled fear of flying. She'd gripped his hand tightly the whole time, face ashen, but never commented. After they'd been dropped off, they had hiked the rest of the day, slept that night. Got up and hiked again. While hot, sweaty, and itchy, the trip was uneventful. Scarily so. That should have been his clue that things were about to go tits up.

Getting onto the estate was nerve-racking but surprisingly simple. Daria knew the secret places to hide, the guards' routine. She knew the best route inside, and that the best time to breach the premises was around two in the morning, when the men on watch were sleepy and complacent from guarding such a remote place where nothing ever happened.

Positioning himself in the shadows beside the French doors of the bedroom where she had stayed as a child, he used a claw to cut the glass. Reached inside and unlocked the bolt. Then he gave her a kiss.

"Be careful," he mouthed.

"I will."

And then she was gone. The wait stretched out, interminable.

. . .

Dammit straight to hell and back again.

Daria hunched over, intent on the computer screen, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on the keys. If her uncle or one of his minions caught them here, in his private study, they would make certain she and Ryon disappeared without a trace. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten away with murder-but these days August didn't have Gene Bowman to plot with, and the Pack was on to him.

August was going to pay for his part in what he'd done to Ben.

On the heels of that thought, a pair of sad blue eyes haunted her, steeling her resolve. She had resisted Ryon, denied their mating in the beginning, causing them so much grief before she understood-hurting her mate was the same as hurting herself.

She hadn't believed she had a place in his world. Hadn't wanted to accept that she had no say in her own life and he had taken that as rejection.

But she would make it up to Ryon now by helping him and his team see this through. And then August, the bastard, would hang. Beaten at his own despicable game.

Even better than a bullet to his brain.

Right. She'd keep telling herself that, and one day the lie might wash.

"Come on, come on . . ."

The annoying security box popped up again, demanding the correct password. Obviously her dad had been wrong about which one would get her inside. They needed her uncle's medical research notes, his "black book" with the names of his contacts, quantities and dates of massive drug shipments. Drugs that were harmful to shifters, caused addictions of all sorts-and some that created mutant horrors like what Ben had become.

Enough evidence to put August away for good, at her fingertips. And she couldn't get at it.

Ryon's urgent voice pushed into her head. Baby, get out of there!

I'm coming, she answered. Five minutes.

Hurry.

She glanced out the window at the lightening sky and had to resist pounding her fist on the desk in frustration. She needed more time, and they had none left.

Any moment the estate and surrounding compound would stir to life. Disheartened, she removed her thumb drive from the computer. So close. She put it back in the waterproof bag, then zipped the whole thing inside her backpack. After tidying the desk and taking one last look around to make certain she'd left the area exactly as it had been, she eased into the corridor.

Voices and heavy footsteps drifted from the far end around the corner, heading her way at a brisk pace. As fast as she dared without making noise, Daria spun in the opposite direction. Thank goodness they weren't between her and the escape route. Still, she wasn't out of danger.

She wound her way through the maze of corridors, listening as the estate began to awaken. Tonight they would finish the job if it was the last thing they did. Twenty-four hours from now, the information they needed would be in the hands of the Institute's lab people, and a cure could be found for Ben and any other humans and shifters who were out there suffering. God, what she wouldn't give to see the shock on August's despicable face when he realized what she'd done.

Perhaps she would leave her uncle a taunting note guaranteed to give him an even nastier surprise. With this gratifying thought, she let herself back into the guest room and closed the door, leaning against it to calm her jumping nerves. Shoving back a strand of long black hair that had escaped the confines of her ponytail, she blew out a deep breath.

Then she headed for the French doors. She got halfway across the floor before it hit her.

Something was different.

She froze and listened. Nothing moved. The bedroom appeared empty and yet the atmosphere had thickened like the gathering of a storm, morphing into a very real sense of presence. Menacing. Precise as a laser beam, the feeling centered between her shoulder blades.

The closet?

Too late, Daria planted her feet and tensed, ready to confront the unseen threat. A disturbance in the air fanned against her back and before she could turn, a muscular arm snaked around her middle just under her breasts, jerking her back hard. Her breath left in a rush as she slammed against the unyielding form of a massive body. A familiar body, along with the masculine scent of earth and sweat that made her wolf howl with delight.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Came to get my mate out of here." Kissing her temple, he grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the French doors. "Let's go."

Daria hurried to match his stride as he hauled her out into the morning. He skirted the back of the house, making his way to the most secluded area of the compound, then stopped. Standing still, he listened for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. The morning had lightened enough that she could make out his profile and the concerned frown pulling down the corners of his mouth.

"What's wrong?"

He held up a hand to shush her. One minute crept by. Two. Daria began to grow impatient and started to tell him so, but he interrupted in the barest whisper.

"What do you see? Hear?"

"Nothing. Why-"

"Shh."

Complete silence. Even the forest ahead, which should have been coming to noisy life with the chatter of birds, stood mute as if someone had flipped an off switch.

"Ambush," he breathed, palming his pistol. "Run."

The import of his words hardly had time to register when all hell broke loose. Ryon yanked her around the corner of the house, setting off at a dead run with her in tow as dozens of men with rifles materialized from behind the wall they would've scaled. Shouting and cursing, August's security force opened fire.

Long legs pumping, he ran full out, never letting go of her wrist. Daria stumbled, heart in her throat, as more of August's goons rounded the opposite side of the house to intercept them. He veered off and cut through the gardens, using the lush greenery as a cover of sorts from the bullets pelting around them.

Panic washed over her. She and her mate possessed special abilities, but even they would stand little chance against dozens of bullets. How had August learned they were here? For now they were forced to abort their mission. But if they survived this crazy scenario, she'd find a way for them to double back and finish what they'd come for.

Ryon hesitated, scanning the wide expanse of cultivated lawn in front of the estate. Surely he didn't mean to do what it appeared.

He did. The man sprinted across the yard, heading straight for the imposing iron gates at the end of the lawn. Beyond that was nothing but forest. They couldn't have been more exposed if they'd posted targets on their backs, and there was no time to liberate a copter from her uncle.

They skidded to a halt at the gates next to the keypad, and he thrust her toward the panel.

"Do you know the code?"

Men streamed around the house, rifles poised, closing the gap.

"Dad gave it to me, but there's not enough time-"

"The code, Daria!"

Daria punched in the numbers as he dropped to a crouch, tucking the pistol in his waistband and whipping the M16 off his back. So many of them. It struck her as pathetic, one lone man against August's force. Like an ant biting an elephant.

Her mate fired several rounds and they responded in kind. She hit the ground with him, praying as the pop and groan of the mechanism began to swing open the gates. Tiny puffs of dirt kicked up by gunfire came much too close.

"Go! Go!"

Daria shot to her feet and slapped the button to close the gates again, then he hurled her toward the opening. The gates began to reverse direction, and he just managed to slide through after her before they clanged shut.

Clasping her hand, he dragged her through the dense forest, changing directions several times. Once, he halted at the base of a tree, grabbing a heavy backpack he'd left hidden close to the estate. He shrugged it over his shoulders without missing a beat. His pace never faltered, save when the thick undergrowth hampered their progress. Eventually the yells of August's goons faded and disappeared. She'd always stayed in good physical condition, but she thought her lungs might explode if he didn't slow down.

No matter. She'd die before asking him for any favors because she'd practically forced him to allow her to come. He might've read her mind. Where the foliage gave way to a tiny clearing, he stopped and turned to face her, his broad chest heaving.

Sweet Jesus. He affected her like this every time.

Her mate was a sexy beast. Camouflage pants hugged his long thighs and a matching T-shirt with the sleeves cut out displayed the ropy muscles in his arms. Tousled blond hair fell into his blue eyes. He stood with his booted feet planted apart, his gaze like twin lasers raking her in kind. Two hundred pounds of powerful male.

All mine.

Yes, yours, he agreed. His sculpted lips turned upward in his handsome, angular face. A mocking smile, rife with challenge.

Then the reality of their tenuous situation intruded. "That was an epic fucking fail," she groused. "August knew we were coming, or discovered our presence after we arrived. Now what?"

"We retreat, have the team pick us up. We'll have to figure out some other way to get what we need." His face, however, reflected bitter disappointment.

"Absolutely not. We can't give up now."

. . .

Ryon studied his mate's reaction with fascination. Whether she knew it or not, her whiskey brown eyes were windows straight to her soul. They brimmed with righteous indignation, and no small amount of fear. She looked so lost standing there, so disconsolate, as though she took their failure personally. The idea didn't sit well.