Sentinels: Kodiak Chained

Nick leaned back in his office chair. “Nick Carter,” he said, pale green eyes astute as he watched them all. “Boss.”

Mariska hesitated, her troubled gaze flicking from Nick to Ruger. She cleared her throat. “Mariska Banks, on assignment from Western Brevis. I’m personal security.”

Ruger’s subliminal growl went loud, as all the implications of the situation hit him at once—and then combined with her guilty expression to make sense.

She was there to look after him.

And she’d known about it while he hadn’t. Hell, she’s bear. She’d likely made it happen in the first place. He looked past her to Nick. “That’s not the plan.”

“It’s not,” Nick said easily. “But early yesterday, Mariska came to me with some compelling points. This rogue has been too active—too unpredictable. We need to catch him as soon as possible, and to do that we need to understand him as soon as possible—the contents of this bunker will allow us critical insight. So it would be best if you aren’t distracted by security issues while you’re tapping your healer’s perceptions at the new bunker.”

Hell, yes, she’d made this happen. She’d insinuated herself into this field op… she’d supplanted the one thing he could still offer to brevis. He couldn’t help his utterly flat voice, or the way it did nothing to disguise his anger. Betrayal. “I can take care of myself.”

“Whoa,” Ian said. “So can I, but I’m thinking this is a conversation I don’t need to be part of.”

“There is no conversation,” Nick said. He eyed Ruger, and if his gaze was still easy, it was also implacable. The decision had been made.

Ruger clamped down on his growl, but it didn’t stop him from sending a dark look at Nick. Personal security. It was the last thing he wanted or needed—especially when it was coming from a woman he suddenly no longer trusted. Not because she’d had the idea, or because she’d gone to Nick with it. But because she’d understood better than any of them—bear to bear—what it meant to him, and she’d never said anything.

She’d been fierce and gorgeous and astonishingly joyful and giving with her body… and he’d given the same back. And yet—

You should have said something, Mariska.

The final member of the team cleared her throat, a little more loudly than necessary. “Allesandra,” she said, and even in his ire, Ruger saw the coyote in her buff blond hair and amber eyes. “Call me Sandy. Given what happened to Ian the last time he was in Pine Bluff, I’ll be working wards on our hotel. You’ll all be responsible for personal shields.” She gave Nick a wry look. “Normally I’d be working with my partner to make sure we could cover both, but we all know how it is these days.”

“That’s all of you,” Nick said. “Now listen up—if you take anything from this briefing, let it be caution. Don’t underestimate the man behind the installation you’ll be studying. His name is Eduard Forakkes, and he’s likely still in the area. We’re almost certain he was Fabron Gausto’s amulet tech—and the Core’s recent advances with silent amulets are most likely his doing. Physically, he’s unassuming—but he’s as treacherous as Gausto ever was.”

“Trust me on that one,” Ian said—as dryly as ever, and likely without any awareness of the pain that tightened his face.

Sandy pushed at her folder. “What evidence do you have that he’s still there?” she asked. “Maks found this bunker abandoned, aside from the leftover animals.”

“Because he isn’t anywhere else,” Nick said. “Because the Core, as much as they’ll embrace him if he comes up with something they can use, has branded him rogue. Because this bunker may not be a primary installation, but it was clearly in active use at the time of its discovery. And because—”

“Maks said so,” Jet said, an atypical insertion from her spot near the window, one uttered with complete confidence in the Siberian tiger who had helped free her from Gausto six months earlier.

“If anyone knows Forakkes, it’s Maks,” Nick finished, a flash of fury rising to the surface so quickly that Ruger blinked—only to find it gone again. A little reminder of what lay beneath their consul’s calm exterior.

It wasn’t enough to deter Ruger from the pending argument between them—but it was enough to keep him quiet for now. Especially since he understood Nick’s wrath all too well—he’d read the material in this folder from front to back already; he knew Forakkes had been active in the Core for a startling number of years.

A decade and more ago, he’d been trying to breed Sentinels for his own purposes. Young Maks had survived escape from that situation. His mother had not.

Yes, Maks knew Forakkes. But Maks was still sorting himself out up there in the White Mountains with Katie Rae Maddox. He would no doubt join Ruger there, but only briefly.

Sandy accepted the assurances matter-of-factly. “Okay, then,” she said. “He’s still there. Then we’ll find him.”

“And don’t forget Katie’s visions,” Ian said. “I know they’re vague, but her sense of foreboding goes far deeper than the local situation.”

“Second that,” Annorah said. “She’s got a reputation as a lightweight. Don’t you believe it. If you took the form of a little deer, would you want to attract the attention of the rest of us?”

“Exactly so,” Nick agreed. “She fooled me for years. We’ll let you know if anything else comes through for her, but until then, keep her report in mind—and don’t get cocky.”

“Cool,” Ian said, hitting a quick beat with his pencil. “Well, this has been uplifting, but I’ve got a silent amulet to secure before we go. And oh—by the way, watch out for those, too. If you’re used to sensing the stink of the things, the new silent ones will take you by surprise.”

Mariska frowned at her folder, quiet as she absorbed the nuances of the team. She hadn’t truly understood the significance of this situation, that was clear enough. And that—there on her face, the faint frown of her brow and the worry in her eyes—that was doubt. Self-doubt.

It pissed Ruger off that he could read her so well.

“That’s it,” Nick said, as if he didn’t see it. “Head down below and get geared up; I want you in Pine Bluff by midafternoon.”

“Halfway there,” Ian said, on his feet and reaching for the door handle while the rest of them still shifted in their chairs—Sandy reached for a last swallow of her tea, Annorah stretched, and Ruger…

Ruger just glowered.

Mariska gathered her folder and stood, tucked together in a tidy button-down blouse with the wood buttons and natural material that meant it was Sentinel kosher—it would follow her if she took the bear, absorbed by the earth magic until she needed it again. Her slacks held the wrinkle of natural cotton; Ruger would bet she wore the moccasins he’d seen the previous night. Mariska Bear came prepared.

And she’d known what she was doing when she pried her way onto this team. She’d known what she was doing to him.

She’d taken away the one thing he truly had left to give them.

She met his current glower with uncertain honesty—with a note of pleading. “Ruger—”

He wanted to growl. He didn’t. He leaned back in the chair, one arm hooked over the back of it, his legs sprawling into the space left by Ian’s departure.

“Ruger—” Mariska said again, dismay in those big dark eyes and on that wide mouth.

Ruger only shook his head. “Just one night,” he said softly—knowing the others would hear, and not caring.

Mariska cared. The woodsy brown tones of her skin went a shade paler. She pulled her folder off the table and left, moving with a stiffness that hadn’t been the least bit apparent any of the times they’d made love the night before.

Just one night.

But it would never be enough.

“Ruger. You wanted to talk to me?”

Of course Nick knew what was coming. And Jet, too; she gave them a glance over her as she headed out the door, leaving Ruger alone in the room with Nick.

So Ruger didn’t mince words. “No,” he said. “I don’t need any damned babysitter. Especially not one I can’t trust.”

“I trust her,” Nick pointed out.

Ruger stood, going from sprawled to upright and tense, his anger hitting the surface faster than he’d ever expected. “This isn’t about whether I need help—I damned well don’t. This is her bid for something bigger than Western Brevis has given her. That’s not the right reason!”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t do the job.” Nick didn’t react as Ruger reached the desk, looming tall; he rocked back in his pricey office chair, still relaxed—except Ruger knew him well enough to see the wolf bloom to life behind those pale green eyes.

“It does if I won’t work with her,” Ruger said. “She lied to me. She used me.”

“Is that what this is about?” Nick said, and now his voice was soft enough for Ruger to take notice. “Your pride?”