"The process wipes memory, destroys mental capacity, basically turns them into walking vegetables."
"Christ." Max shook his head. "But even with that, I'm not convinced they didn't make the better choice. Their children aren't the ones being beaten to death."
Talin was still wrestling with what Max had told them when they reached Clay's lair late that night. He pushed something on the Tank's dash. "I've unarmed the lair's defenses. Get your butt inside before you start snoring right here."
"I'm not the one who snores," she muttered, walking away from the vehicle and into the lair.
Darkness, complete darkness.
"Lights." Her breath began to come in panicked bursts. "Full power."
Nothing.
Strangling fear threatened to close around her throat as she scrabbled at the wall, trying to find the computronics panel. She was sure she'd seen it earlier today. God, she had to find it. The dark, it was closing around her. Suffoca -
"Talin, breathe."
She spun around, gasped at the sight of him. His eyes were night-glow, an eerie green-silver that was completely cat. "You can see in the dark!"
"Of course I can." He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Panel's five inches to your left. Middle pad."
She tried to pretend calm as she found it, then pressed the central pad. Light poured out from a ceiling fixture. "You don't have voice activation."
He grunted. "Does this look like a palace?" A pause. "I'll get one of the techs to put it in tomorrow."
"No, you don't have - "
"I said I'll get it done." His tone told her he was just itching for a fight.
She decided for grace instead. "Thank you."
A dark scowl as he began to unbutton his shirt.
Her barely steady heartbeat took another jagged leap. "What are you doing?"
"Not attacking you." He turned to throw the shirt on one of the large cushions that acted as his sofas. "I'm going for a run. I prefer that my clothes not disintegrate when I shift."
"Oh." She couldn't take her eyes off the shifting muscles of his back. Clay had always been strong, but now...now he could break her like a twig. And yet even as she thought that, she couldn't get past his beauty. Her fingertips tingled, her thighs clenched. She wanted to reach out and trace that tattoo high on his left shoulder, wanted to taste -
"Scat." His hands went to the snap of his jeans.
She jumped, heart racing for a completely new reason. "We need to talk."
"You need to sleep." He stalked toward her, revealing a chest thick with muscle. Dark curls of hair stroked over that luscious, glowing skin, arrowing down in a viscerally male fashion. "Get upstairs." His jaw was tight, his eyes anger bright.
Her jaw dropped. "You're still mad at me. God, you're stubborn!"
"I'm a hell of a lot more than mad." Turning, he kicked off his shoes and began to undo his jeans. "I'm through talking. Leave unless you want a peep show."
She could feel her cheeks flaming. "I don't like you very much right this second."
"Good. The feeling's mutual." He went as if to push down the jeans.
She ran to the ladder, able to feel his mocking gaze on her back. A huge part of her wanted to watch him shift, to experience the stunning sparkle of color and light as his form changed, then the wild intoxication of being face-to-face with a leopard. But another part of her was frustrated enough to scream. It was clear that the Clay she'd known hadn't changed in at least one crucial respect. He had seldom exploded in open fury, but man, could he brood!
"What if someone comes?" she asked, once she was safe on the second level.
"No one will." His tone dared her to question him.