wrenched through her abdomen, stilling her in a panicked instant.
The baby!
Trembling all over, Cee Cee lay still, breathing shallowly as pain tightened, twisted, then slowly released like an opening fist. With slow, measured breaths, she calmed her thoughts until shaking eased and fear became manageable. When no worrisome symptoms followed, a quiet prayer escaped on a sigh. She refused to consider what impact the drug might have on her unborn child, compartmentalizing it away for another, safer moment. Their escape was her primary concern.
Charlotte!
Max’s voice filled her head. She almost called out aloud before realizing he’d used their bond to communicate. His scent rushed over her in an urgent caress, as calming as the stroke of his hand.
Before she could communicate what little she knew of her situation, a dusty shaft of light filtered in from the opened door. A single figure in black filled the space. Quickly, Cee Cee sealed her eyes shut and forced slow, regular breaths, feigning unconsciousness. His lengthy study moved over her, as unnerving as a caress, but finally he stepped back, and the door closed once again. Spurred by the impending threat, she began working her bindings in earnest.
It wasn’t her life she feared for, at least not immediately. They’d take her North as an incubator for their true agenda, one that involved the combined genetics of her and Max’s families. She refused to pursue that, needing her energy to escape. But the ties failed to loosen, and her time trickled away.
A crash in one of the other rooms was followed by bumps and bangs of vigorous combat. Not Max. She’d know if he was near. She wiggled and pulled against the bindings on her wrists, abrading skin, hoping lubricating blood could help her escape. Then a whisper of fresh air made her pause, drawing her attention toward the heavily draped window where curtains lay still. As she frowned in uncertainty, a shadow rose right at the edge of the bed. A rough palm sealed in her gasp of alarm.
“Hey, mama,” came a low whisper. “Thought you could use some help.”
A quick pull of Cale Terriot’s blade freed her. Instead of gushing thanks, she hissed, “Did you bring one for me?”
His smile flashed wide and white, but before he could respond, his brother Rico came crashing through the door, grappling with one of her captors. Two more filled the frame.
So much for small talk.
– – –
Genevieve turned toward her man at the door to order Max taken, only to find him sprawled motionless on the floor. A silent figure stood in his place.
Terriots!
No, another male, tall, lean, fierce, and common. How had he gotten so soundlessly through the men she’d posted right outside?
Panic fell before blinding fury. Features warping into that hideous beast within, she swung back around, her intention of ripping through her nephew met by another harsh surprise.
Max’s fist to that snarling visage dropped her to the floor. The moment her lights went out, his snapped on. His senses cleared from whatever spell she’d cast about them.
Charlotte!
Close. In danger.
“She’s in the house across the street.” Philo stepped aside before being run over. “Your aunt brought company. Good thing we did, too.”
“Keep her here. Kill her if you have to.”
Before Tibideaux could respond, Max lunged through the doorframe . . . into the center of a vicious melee.
Once unconsciousness overcame his aunt’s controlling psyche, the previously silenced night exploded with sound and action. Hand-to-hand as men and as beasts, fierce struggles filled the yard, the street, and the house across the way. Tibideaux’s Patrol against his aunt’s Trackers.
Max pushed his way through them, quickly disabling those who got in his way. He wasn’t aware of morphing into his most powerful state, that the snarls he heard were his own, that the bloodied figures falling away from him had been victims of his teeth and claws. There was only his mate and his child. And he would tear through the world to get to them.
Without thought for his own safety, he burst into his neighbor’s long-abandoned home. Heartbeats, racing and ready to explode, suddenly stopped in his laboring chest when liberal sprays of blood filled his vision.
Rico Terriot rode a black-garbed Tracker to the floor, sharp teeth ripping out an already savaged throat. Sensing another presence, the redhead rocked back on his heels then grinned ghoulishly at Max.
“Hey, Savoie. Sorry we didn’t leave you anything, but looks like you got your share already.”
“Max!”
Charlotte Caissie bulleted into his arms, filling them and his heart to