her claim that she can ‘sense’ the Pantera. And even humans from a great distance.”
Raphael shrugged, not nearly as concerned as he should be. “I know, which is why I have her under constant surveillance.”
He nodded toward a large Hunter with short, tousled dark hair and eyes that were a vivid violet flecked with gold.
Far from comforted, Michel growled deep in his throat.
The young male had been lurking around Chelsea for weeks, his handsome features and easy charm easily working their magic on Dr. Young. Usually Michel found Rage’s ability to ensnare the opposite sex a source of amusement.
Now there was nothing funny about it.
Not one fucking thing.
“Rage is a talented Hunter, but he doesn’t understand the complex games that spies play,” Michel pointed out the obvious. “Not too mention he’s a perpetual flirt.”
Raphael cocked a brow. “Does that bother you?”
Michel refused to be goaded. He’d already revealed more than he wanted. “It leaves him open to manipulation.”
“Ah.” There was a hesitation before Raphael cleared his throat. “You know, Michel, I assumed you of all people would be sympathetic to Chelsea.”
His brows snapped together. “Why would I have sympathy for a woman who used our people as science experiments?”
“Because you know what it’s like to be different while you’re growing up, and the desperation to fit in.”
Michel’s breath caught in his throat, his cat crouching inside him as a remembered pain made him flinch. He rarely allowed himself to recall his early childhood when he’d been born with deformed legs. The twisted joints had been beyond the efforts of the Healers, and it hadn’t been until human technology had evolved far enough to operate on him that he’d at last been able to walk.
Yes. He understood the dark desperation of being flawed. And the fierce need to do whatever to gain command of your life. And why Chelsea’s eyes remained shadowed even when she smiled…
“It’s not at all the same,” he abruptly denied.
“No?”
His fists clenched. “I didn’t sacrifice others for my cure.”
Raphael gave a dip of his head. “Fair enough.”
Michel turned so he was facing his companion. “When are you going to confess what’s going on, Raphael?”
The older male shrugged. “What makes you think something is going on?”
Michel gave a short laugh. “I can sense when you’re tap-dancing around because you have a piece of shit duty you’re about to dump on me.”
“Okay.” Raphael grinned. “I need you.”
“About damned time,” Michel breathed. As much as he loved the Wildlands, he needed to get away and clear his head.
Plus he needed to be doing something. Anything.
“You might not be so eager when I explain your mission,” Raphael warned.
Michel gave a lift of his shoulders. “Anything is better than sitting on my ass waiting for—” He bit off his words, narrowing his gaze. “Wait. You don’t want me to babysit, do you?”
“Christ, you should be so lucky,” Raphael muttered. “I have an endless mob of females in front of my house just waiting to catch a glimpse of my precious daughter.” He shook his head, not quite capable of disguising his bone-deep pride. “I barely get to hold her unless I steal her from her crib and sneak out of the house.”
“Then what do you want?”
Raphael folded his arms over his chest. “Dr. Young gave us six locations where Stanton Locke might potentially be hiding.”
Ah. Now they were getting somewhere.
“You want me to check them out?”
“Actually I’ve had the adolescent Hunters following up the leads.” Raphael grimaced. “They need the practice and they’ve been itching with the need to do something.”
Michel was plagued with the same itch.
Feeling as if he’d been leashed was no doubt a part of the reason he’d become so…consumed with thoughts of Dr. Chelsea Young.
“And?” he asked.
“And I just got a call from Jazz in Bossier City,” Raphael said, referring to one of the adolescent Hunters who’d shown great promise. “She’s heard rumors that a prominent military contractor recently arrived at Barksdale Air Force Base and set up a secret lab in the abandoned bunkers.”
A sick ball of dread lodged in the pit of Michel’s gut. Christ. He didn’t want to consider the possibility that the human military was somehow involved. It was going to be hard enough to hunt down Locke and stop him without adding in…
No. He gave a sharp shake of his head. He wasn’t even going to go there.
Not until they could be sure what was going on.
“What makes her think it has something to do with Locke?” he demanded.
“She thought she caught sight of Locke headed into the base, but lost him in the wetlands that surround the bunkers.”
Michel curled his hands into tight fists. Inside, his cat roared with the need to taste blood.
He was going to stop that bastard. One way or another.
“I’ll find him,” he swore.
Raphael held up a warning hand. “First I want you to discover what his plan is and who’s involved.”
Michel didn’t hesitate. “No problem.”
Raphael gave a sharp laugh. “Whatever you lack, Michel, it isn’t confidence.”
Michel shrugged. He was the best at what he did. False modesty was as ugly as boasting. “You ask, and I deliver.”
“True.” Raphael paused, a worrisome smile playing around his lips. “But on this occasion you won’t have to do it alone.”
“A partner?” Michel scowled. What the hell was Raphael thinking? He always worked alone. “That’s not really my style.”
“It is this time.”
Michel stilled, a chill inching down his spine. Something was up. Something he wasn’t going to like.
“Who’s the lucky Hunter?”
“Not a Hunter.”
Michel narrowed his gaze. “A Suit?”
“An expert on Locke.”
“Who?” He sucked in a shocked breath as he realized just what his companion was implying. He’d suspected he wasn’t going to like what Raphael had to say, but this… “No.”
“No?” Raphael’s voice was dangerously soft, but Michel was too angry to care.
“You want me to rephrase it?” he snarled. “Hell, no.”