Cravings (Fierce Hearts) Read online

  Cravings

  Lynn Crandall

  Avon, Massachusetts

  Copyright © 2015 by Lynn Crandall.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  Published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A.

  www.crimsonromance.com

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-8937-2

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8937-9

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-8938-0

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8938-6

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © iStockphoto.com/Ladida

  To Mike, for always being there in just the right way.

  Acknowledgments

  I owe a big thank you to the people who offered support, expert information, and valuable input. So thank you to my technology expert, Jamie Kurtz, my medical and drug expert, Carol Scott, my expert in human emotions and relations, Lynne McLewin, my beta reader HiDee Ekstrom, and all my editors at Crimson Romance, especially Jess Verdi.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  About the Author

  More from This Author

  Also Available

  Chapter One

  If it weren’t for her parents—correction, fake parents—trying to take over her life, maybe even trying to kill her, Kennedy would burst out laughing. The situation was all so surreal.

  Laughter would be better than giving in to the urge to curl up into a ball and cry. What good would that do?

  So she sat there in Lara Monroe’s kitchen wearing her best stoic face and not saying a word while Lara, Tizzy Sands, Asia Blue, and Asher Monroe, members of the were-lynx colony that rescued her two weeks ago from William Carter Enterprises’ drug research project, chatted about the handling of her day for her. She suspected they meant well; they just wanted to keep her safe and away from her adoptive parents. Muscles throughout her body tensed at the idea that they didn’t trust her. But the truth lying in the bottom of her stomach reminded her that from the first moment they’d released her from the cage at William Carter Enterprises, she hadn’t trusted them, either.

  That day two weeks ago was the day everything she’d known as her life crumbled beneath her. When she’d learned her real parents were not dead and had not abandoned her either—both lies from her fake parents. When she’d learned the colony leader, Casey Mitchell, might be her brother. Yes, they were both black, but that didn’t mean they shared DNA. Heck, before her fake parents had handed her over to William Carter’s experiment, she hadn’t even known other were-lynxes existed. She’d been told she was one of a kind, a lone freak. But there were more freaks, at least a whole colony of them. And maybe none of them were freaks, but just another species. For a brief moment after her rescue she’d been at once shocked and encouraged by the discoveries. She wasn’t sure what was the truth. At least the one about Casey, her sibling or not her sibling, would be cleared up as soon as the results from their DNA testing returned. As for his colony, so far, the eight were-cats were very real and very interesting, and each one had their own special ability beyond their preternatural senses, just like she did.

  But the whispered voices when she was out of the room and the pointed looks they shared between them clued her in that they were assessing if she was genuinely trustworthy or a plant, gathering information to report back to The Nexus Group, a group of people who were interested only in acquiring more power and more riches, regardless of the pain and chaos they caused. The group her parents belonged to.

  Hurt stung her heart at the situation. The colony cats didn’t know how she’d longed for a better life away from her parents and among people who would actually care about her. She was assessing them, too. It was the prudent thing to do. Things were very confusing, but so far, other than treating her like an object, they hadn’t given her any reason to want to leave, especially not to return to her old, unbearable life.

  “Kennedy, did you hear me?” Tizzy poked her once then smiled, her big eyes the color of cognac peeking out from the blond bangs that swept across her forehead. She tossed her head, and her short hair gleamed in the sunlight slanting in through the kitchen window.

  “Oh, sorry. I was zoning out.”

  Smiles, understanding and sweet, came her way from the three female were-lynxes. Asher just stared at her. Which was okay, because all the smiles made her stomach tighten.

  In the two weeks since her rescue from the insane project aimed at turning were-lynxes into warriors and headed by the now-dead kingpin of The Nexus Group, William Carter, she’d gotten so much understanding and sweetness she dripped with it. She knew she should be more grateful. They’d been so kind. They’d even taken her shopping to buy a new wardrobe since hers was left behind. But in her whole life, kindness and caring had been absent. Memories of her adoptive parents’ idea of showing their love slivered through her mind, making her shiver. Memories of them forcing her to stand in a corner for hours, all in the name of helping her reach her potential. The things they made her do growing up were done out of love, they’d said. The training, the fasting, and harsh treatment were good for her, they’d said. And finally she’d come to understand that even gestures that seemed soft and fuzzy would be followed with something painful. Soft and fuzzy was just a way to catch her off guard and administer pain. So was it any wonder she felt at once skeptical and appreciative about the colony’s treatment of her?

  “That sounds fine. I’ll spend the day with Tizzy in her elementary classroom.”

  “Right. I’ve already cleared it with my principal. With your bachelor’s degree, I was able to get you certified quickly as an aide, so you’ll fit right in.” Tizzy slanted her head and beamed. “It will be fun having you there.” Tizzy was a beigeish lynx who also had a very dramatic, very enthusiastic human side.

  Kennedy gave a smile back but couldn’t muster much enthusiasm. Her fingers began following a familiar pattern of touching each one to her thumb, first one direction then back again. It kicked in without conscious thought as a response to stress. Just as did her counting. Focusing on the number of crackers in a bowl when she was nine had helped prevent her fear of lack of food later from overwhelming her completely.

  Asia rubbed her arm soothingly. “This is a hard time, I know. But we’re just trying to keep you safe.”

  Kennedy shook her head. “Oh, I know. I appreciate all you’ve done, all of you.” She lowered her gaze to the table. It was the truth, nothing to hide there. But still, the raw reality of her life throbbed through her painfully as if she were still living in that life, under her adoptive parents’ thumb, being prepared to help The Nexus Group expand its power. As before, living with her fake pare
nts, she was being handled, like an object. An object with no last name, because the one she’d known for all of her twenty-two years of life was fake. An object that was told how her day would be spent and only as she needed to know. No chances were taken that she would have an opportunity to share information with the enemy—Jonathon and Kathryn Novak, her so-called parents, and other members of The Nexus Group, the group everyone in the colony wanted more information about from her. Her special cellphone, the one her parents had complete control over, had been taken from her when she’d been crated by TNG. It had not been returned to her in the rescue. The colony didn’t want her near one or near a computer. Like TNG people, the colony was keeping her isolated, at least until she gave them information.

  She felt their frustration that she couldn’t fill them in. She’d never been told much, and parts of her memory were like dead computer cells—dark and nonfunctional.

  She picked up her breakfast dishes and joined the others in cleaning up. Then she went to her room and closed the door behind her. She glanced around, near-panic seeping through her veins. This handling was all too familiar. Different in that these people showed compassion. But so close to her old life that she couldn’t breathe. She needed air and right now.

  Kennedy quietly slid open the window, grateful Lara’s apartment was located on the first floor, climbed over, and jumped the short distance to the ground.

  Her skin itched, and the longing to shimmer—to change into her lynx form—pushed up her adrenaline several notches. The urgency in her gut sent her racing down the street, past the line of apartments, past the strip mall, until finally she found an alley to disappear into while she made the transition. She pulled at her sweatshirt, then stopped. She caught a whiff of another were-cat.

  “What are you up to, Kennedy?” It was Asher Monroe, a were-bobcat who was one of the colony cats and Lara’s brother, standing at the opening of the alley.

  She sagged to the ground, clothes still intact. She watched him shuffle toward her and with little effort tamped down the adrenaline surge she’d been running on. She was all about control of her body and its mechanisms and emotions, thanks to her training with her fake parents and her handlers with The Nexus Group.

  Asher’s blond hair caught a glimmer of sunlight, and suddenly, it was all she could focus on. The mussed-up look fit his devil-may-care expression. His broad shoulders and muscled biceps under his jacket spoke volumes about his fit physique. She might be numb inside, but she wasn’t dead, and her rapid heartbeat proved it. “I’m not up to anything, you idiot. I just needed some air.”

  He looked down at her, his eyes a startling, pale yellow rimmed in brown, and chuckled. “I get that.” He squatted near her, not so close that her invasion alarm went off but not so far that he felt impersonal. “The colony can crawl down your neck without knowing it, but they mean you no harm.”

  She sent him a glare. “What are you, the sentinel? Making sure the subject doesn’t escape?” Her remark landed hard, she could see that in his eyes, but she wanted him to know no one was pulling the wool over her eyes. They didn’t trust her any more than she trusted them.

  Asher shook his head and pursed his lips. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you,” he stated rather than asked. “It should be obvious to you that these people are only protecting you and exercising caution. It’s prudent to do so. A skilled lynx knows that.”

  The dried autumn leaves in the alley suddenly lifted on a cold breeze and whirled around briefly before scattering at their feet. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you the designated tracker?”

  “No. But we are keeping an eye on you. The Nexus Group is a nasty bunch of people. Our colony got involved to protect the animals the group was hurting through their experiments aimed at developing a drug that would turn were-animals into warriors, and we’re going to see this situation through to the end. Lives, not just yours, are at stake. The colony is going to make sure The Nexus Group’s plans don’t go off well. We’re the good guys. You’ll find that out. I just hope you’re not on the wrong side of right when you do.”

  He stood and offered her a hand. She stared at it for a solid minute, and he waited. Silently, she took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. Walking beside him, a sense of calm settled over her. It stood in stark contrast to the flat sense of control she was accustomed to as her inner state. The calm soothed her as nothing ever had before. It penetrated her, relaxing her muscles and prompting deep, even breaths. This lull should have set off alarms, warning her to beware. Letting down her guard had never led to anything but emotional and physical pain. She’d nearly lost her ability to relax and just be while living with her parents and enduring the training that was her life.

  Then she got it. Fury bloomed in her chest. She halted and stood face to face with him. “You did it, didn’t you? That’s your special ability. You somehow put me in relaxed mode so I’d come with you. You rat!”

  Without waiting for some lame explanation or, worse, denial, Kennedy marched toward the end of the alley leading out into the street.

  “Kennedy, wait.”

  She kept marching, hurt and betrayal fueling her pace.

  From behind her, Asher grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him again. “I was going to tell you. It was very perceptive of you to recognize the energy. There are no secrets here about my ability to nudge—”

  “Just shut up!” She put her hands to her ears and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to hear his words. Letting in the possibility that he meant no harm opened her to getting duped. That would be dangerous.

  He took her hands in his and pulled them away from her ears. He held them in his, cradling them. “I’m not going to apologize. Yes, I used my ability to nudge. But it was not meant to control you. I just wanted you to feel comforted.”

  She stared up at him, now angrier with herself than him. She’d been nudgeable. If it meant what she suspected, that could be deadly. “What is that, nudging? What does that mean?”

  “It means I can prompt people to feel what I want them to feel and do what I want them to do.” A brisk wind lifted strands of his hair, mussing it further.

  “So you nudged me to come with you. That’s just wrong, Asher.” Her gaze fell to her hands, which he still held in his. The sense of calm persisted, and she couldn’t help but warm to it.

  “I try hard not to abuse my ability. I don’t want to move people against their will, but sometimes it’s useful, especially with the bad guys.” He winked at her. “You’re not one of those, are you?” He paused and gave her a half-smile. “Like I said, I just wanted you to be able to feel good. I didn’t nudge very hard, so your body must have hooked into it because it instinctively knew you needed it more than you needed control.”

  Nausea gripped her suddenly, buckling her at her waist. “I’m going to be sick.” There were so many unknowns right now, about her past, her future. But having a sense of control kept her, as it always had, from falling apart. She thought she had that down. Apparently, she was wrong, and without control, anything could happen.

  Asher placed a hand to her back as fear and nausea poured out of her onto the ground. When she stood erect again, Kennedy swiped her hand across her mouth and grasped for composure. “I’m sorry.”

  He pulled up her chin to face him, and her eyes met his. “You’re apologizing for feeling overwhelmed? You don’t have to do that, Kennedy. You’re going through a very tough time. It’s okay to be overwhelmed. It’s safe with me and with the others. The overwhelm is natural.”

  She shook him off. “You’re referring to the feeling as though it’s an entity or an object.”

  “For me, it is. It has presence and form. But the feeling is not you. It will take some time to get through, and for now, feeling overwhelmed is what you have to feel. But you will get through it. And not alone, either.”

  Just then, his cellphone vibrated. He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t go anywhere.” He turned aside to answer his phone. “Yes,
she’s with me. We’re on our way back now.”

  • • •

  Asher rubbed his hand through his hair and started whistling a tune. It was a weak attempt to lighten the air between him and Kennedy. He didn’t blame her for wanting to take a break from the group. Trouble was, he wasn’t completely convinced she’d come back. Stressed people return to what they know. Trained people obey commands to return to headquarters. In Kennedy’s case, the compulsion could be to go back to The Nexus Group.

  Without looking at her, he could summon an image of her in his mind and feel his pulse kick its pace up a notch. Her long, black, silken hair caught up in a ponytail bounced with each step she took. A black sweatshirt draped her slim shoulders and cut off just above the waistband of her skinny, black jeans, giving a glimpse of her taut abs. Her tight behind enticed him, and her shapely legs coaxed his imagination about touching them.

  Okay, enough with the visual, you heartless bastard. Heat spread from his neck to his face, reminding him that, at best, Kennedy stood smack dab in genuine peril. At worst, she was one of “them,” the people who wanted to take control of the city and probably more—The Nexus Group. His libido needed to simmer down. Anything less than a yardstick would be getting too close for her and would trigger her self-defense. He needed to earn her respect and trust and take care of her while keeping up his guard.

  Suddenly, the silence felt heavy between them. He cleared his throat and turned to her. “Where were you going to go? Are you familiar with this area?” Before she could answer, he noticed she was shivering, her arms wrapped around her body, trying to contain warmth. “Whoa, whoa, you’re cold.” He shrugged off his black leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “Try this.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Better?”

  She bobbed her head and smiled. “Yes.”

  “You really didn’t think through that little escape, did you?” The sound of dried leaves crunching beneath their feet as they headed back to Lara’s apartment stood as a reminder that fall was coming to an end. “No coat. Nowhere to run. With this cold edge to the wind, you would have gotten very cold pretty quickly.”