Chapter 10
ROZI
I sat peering through the SUV’s window into the inky darkness.
The scent of sandalwood filled the confined space until each breath felt dangerously intimate.
I drummed my fingers against my thigh, the only outward sign of the storm raging inside me.
There was no tension between us, at least none that centered on our mission.
We’d agreed to a singular goal—trek to the COL tomorrow to find a breakthrough cure for the pre-feral symptoms.
But the other tension? The one that made my skin prickle every time his gaze flicked toward me? That hadn’t gone anywhere.
“I can’t believe that the myth about the COL is real. And we’re going there tomorrow,” I said, trying to focus on anything besides the way his hands gripped the steering wheel with such controlled strength. “That was not on my bingo card, but damn, I’m excited.”
His husky laugh sent liquid heat pooling low in my belly, a sensation my cheetah savored even as I ruthlessly ignored it. “Finally, I got you excited.”
I swallowed hard.
“The existence of the COL would make any shifter jump for joy.”
“I forgot to ask,” Brody said, the timbre of his voice dropping an octave. “But do you have hiking clothing and boots? If not, we…”
“I’m all set. I’ve been on lots of treks through the wilderness,” I said, grateful for the change in subject. “I’ve even been to the rain forest.”
“I’m impressed.” He shot a brief glance at me, moonlight glinting off his eyes, eyes that lingered a heartbeat too long. “I guess not all researchers stay in the lab.”
“This researcher doesn’t,” I replied, unable to keep the pride from my voice. “For my experiments, I needed to get my hands on exotic, hard-to-find botanicals.”
“Couldn’t you pay someone to get them for you?” The question wasn’t dismissive. I caught genuine curiosity in his tone.
My fingers instinctively sought the small scar on my wrist, a souvenir from a particularly stubborn vine in Peru.
“I’m a hands-on kind of woman because I only use botanicals that were harvested ethically.
” The passion slipped into my voice without permission.
“I want to ensure the long-term health of plant populations and ecosystems while respecting the environment and local communities. There are just too many researchers using botanicals who don’t understand which plants are safe to harvest, where to forage responsibly, or believe in taking only what is needed while leaving enough behind for the plant to regenerate. ”
The SUV slowed as we approached the B&B, its white clapboard siding ghostly in the moonlight. Brody’s expression had shifted, softened somehow.
“Your ethics make you the ideal person to be shown the COL.” His voice had that sincerity that made my defenses wobble. “It doesn’t hurt that your research is renowned among the Others’ communities.”
“So is my last name,” I replied, the bitterness escaping before I could trap it.
He parked in front of the B&B, darkness shrouding everything except the warm yellow glow from a single upstairs window. When he turned to look at me, the intensity in his gaze stole my breath.
“I can see past the stigma of the Dhahabu name,” he said, each word deliberate and heavy with meaning. He paused, gaze caressing every inch of my face as though memorizing it. “I see you, Rozi.”
The way my name rolled off his tongue, like a prayer, like a promise, sent a shiver racing down my spine.
He traced a finger across my cheek, the simple touch igniting a fire beneath my skin.
My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch of its own accord while my inner animal purred, desperate to luxuriate in the feel of his skin against mine.
I swallowed hard, jerking away like his touch had burned me. Maybe it had.
I scrambled to unbuckle my seat belt, fingers suddenly clumsy.
He reached across, the heat of his body washing over me as he unclicked my belt, his proximity flooding my senses.
Hand on the passenger door, I nearly fell out in my haste to escape the suffocating intimacy of the vehicle.
There was no way in hell that I was falling into his dick trap.
He got out, coming around to stand in front of me, his tall frame silhouetted against the night sky. The silver moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, turning him into something carved from marble and shadow.
“Rozi, I—”
“Thornbern—”
We both stopped talking. Something in the air felt… off.
The night sounds had gone silent. No crickets chirping their endless symphony. No rustling leaves whispering secrets in the breeze. Even the distant hum of activity from Main Square had faded to nothing, like the world was holding its breath, waiting.
My cheetah slammed against my consciousness with a snarl of pure alarm that turned my blood to ice. Danger. Predators. Run.
Beside me, Brody went rigid, his nostrils flaring as he scented the air. “Something’s wrong,” he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made my spine tingle with equal parts fear and anticipation. “Two foreign scents.”
My enhanced senses kicked into overdrive, every nerve ending suddenly raw and exposed.
I cataloged every shadow, every whisper of movement, every potential threat.
That was when two large men in black tactical gear materialized from the darkness, blocking our path to the gate of the B&B entrance.
Given my height of five foot four, they loomed over me like twin mountains made of muscle and menace.
Brody’s arm shot out, pushing me behind his six-foot-plus frame. The protective gesture should have irritated me. Instead, something primal and feminine inside me responded to it with dangerous approval.
Everything happened at once.
“Dr. Dhahabu,” the larger one said, his voice eerily calm as he stared down at me, eyes glittering with predatory intent. “You’ve made some powerful enemies with that research of yours. Time to come with us.”
“Like hell,” I spat out, adrenaline flooding my system like liquid lightning. Being short had taught me to turn disadvantages into weapons. My center of gravity was lower, making me harder to topple, faster to maneuver.
The second man lunged for me while his partner engaged Brody.
Time slowed, each millisecond stretching into clarity as my cheetah’s instincts merged with mine.
I ducked under grasping hands that reached for me from what felt like miles above, driving my elbow up into the attacker’s solar plexus with enough force to double him over.
The impact jarred up my arm, a satisfying pain that told me I’d hit exactly right.
His hot breath gusted against my face as he bent forward, bringing his face down to my level.
“Your grandmother sends her regards,” he wheezed, recovering unbelievably fast. His eyes flashed with a glimpse of the predator beneath the skin. “Said to bring you back breathing if convenient. But she emphasized the ‘if convenient’ part.”
My blood ran cold even as heat flooded my limbs. So the kidnapping orders had escalated to potential elimination. The taste of fear flooded my mouth, metallic and sharp.
“So much for family loyalty,” I snapped, dodging another lunge from the giant, the rush of displaced air brushing my cheek as his fist missed by millimeters.
After the Kenya hyena attack, I’d promised myself to never be helpless again. Years of training kicked in, muscle memory taking over as I faced down my attacker. But even as I moved, my peripheral vision caught Brody in action, and holy shit, the man was a lethal weapon made flesh.
His combat training showed in every devastating movement.
Brutal efficiency. No wasted motion. He trapped his attacker’s arm, the crack of bone audible even over my own ragged breathing.
He drove his knee into the man’s ribs with bone-crushing force, then followed up with an elbow strike to the temple that would have dropped a normal human.
His opponent staggered but didn’t fall, definite shifter resilience.
The fight spilled from the sidewalk into the street, the pavement rough beneath my boots as both attackers tried to create distance. My heart thundered against my ribs, each beat a war drum pushing me forward.
I landed a perfect roundhouse kick to my opponent’s sternum that sent him stumbling back.
Being short meant I had to compensate with speed and precision, something my years in martial arts had perfected.
The satisfying thud of impact traveled up my leg, a confirmation that all those dawn training sessions had been worth it.
Brody’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his momentary distraction almost costing him as his opponent lunged.
“Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?” he gasped, blocking a vicious strike at the last second, his forearm taking a blow that would have shattered a normal human’s bones.
I grinned through the adrenaline rush, tasting sweat on my upper lip. “You think I survived the by asking plants nicely?” I pivoted, narrowly avoiding a grab that would have pinned my arms. “Your turn to impress me, wolf.”
Something shifted in his expression, a flash of primal hunger that had nothing to do with violence and everything to do with the provocation in my voice.
“Challenge accepted,” he growled, his eyes flashing molten gold as he executed a flawless takedown that left his attacker eating asphalt.
The night air filled with the sounds of our combat, grunts of exertion, the slap of flesh against flesh, the scrape of boots on pavement. Beneath it all, the accelerated heartbeats of four predators engaged in a deadly dance.
My opponent recovered faster than expected, backhanding me across the mouth with enough force to snap my head sideways.
Pain exploded across my face, the taste of blood flooding my tongue as my inner cheek split against my teeth.
The coppery tang awakened something dangerous in my cheetah, calling to her predatory nature.