Two Mercs, One Kill (Malik Karver) COMPLETE

The scrape of an emery board, curving along the filed edge of her fingernail kept Lana dimly aware of her surroundings without looking to conspicuous. Her body was tilted against the exterior brick wall of one of the only remaining bank chains in the world. A five-story high building that took up an entire city block between two main streets and housed more than 300 employees. That ranged from the bank president right down to the lowly janitor; tellers, security, loan officers and the like. The elite of today’s Terra. Ones that had barely been affected by the ravages of a war-torn world and felt they had no reason to worry about their perfect little lives. Lucky bastards.

Across the street was another building of similar design, but instead of being a home for money, it was a home for the cities people. A nicer apartment building that had the same, tan brick exterior except without all the additional fob. No Roman or Greek architecture; simple and plain design that could hold a capacity of 500 easily. She would be stationed upon the rooftop; hidden behind one of the large air conditioning units. It was the closest she could get without compromising herself. She’d thought of going straight to the source, but after having gone over a layout of the bank’s blueprint as well as an accurate listing of current employees, Lana didn’t want to take the chance of possibly getting caught.

At her wrist, a beeping chatter started and she looked down. A press of a button saw it silence and as she pushed away from the wall with a booted foot, Lana caught a cursory glance of her target. A tall, yet lanky figure with thinning hair; dressed immaculately in his designer suit, carrying his designer briefcase and talking into a cellphone. She sneered as she rushed across the street towards the apartment building and into the lobby. There were people milling about; some checking their mail, others heading towards a corridor with a sign labeled Public Laundry and then two more standing at the closed elevator doors.

Instead of waiting on the elevator with them, she burst through the stairwell door and took them two, even three at a time upon her ascent towards the roof. A curly red ponytail dancing behind her as she bound further up towards her destination; a Bushmaster Carbon 15 .223/5.56 NATO, already waiting for her arrival as she slipped through the rooftop door and secured it behind herself. Her position taken by kneeling at an angle behind the large AC unit so only a portion of her body was exposed. Lana tossed the rifle strap over her head and made quick work of assessing her weapon one last time.

Another beeping chatter, only this time it came from a device fitted into her right ear. A bump of one finger silenced the noise, but opened the private line between herself and the voice on the other end. “Are you in position?” A rasping voice questioned her while subconsciously she rolled her eyes. Lifting the gun into position, she sighted through the scope to a corner office on the fourth floor. An empty desk sat conveniently in front of one of three windows that she could see. “Yes.” An affirmative as one slender finger slipped in front of the trigger and held steady as she waited for her target to enter into her sight. “Good. Contact me when it’s done.” The line went dead and she was once again, alone.

Black bag, snatch and grab, escort, and interrogate were all mission types that he had done before during his days with the military. As different as they seemed, they usually went hand in hand. One lad to another and so the dance went. Life after the war wasn't much different. The only changes, he chose his own jobs and got paid better. With this job he had landed a whale, and that was because he negotiated a percentage instead of a flat rate. All he had to do was make sure he performed the job above and beyond expectations. While he waited on the corner of the building across the street Malik went over the mental checklist of equipment he brought for the job.

The checklist went quickly because he was trained to be quick about such things, and then he was left with his thoughts. He'd heard about the job from one of his contractors. It was a real dangerous assignment because there was so much money involved. Money drew mercs and the more there were vying for the same job, the faster things turned into a warzone. With any war you had to decide which side you were on. Most of the contracts with this man's name on it called for his life to be taken. He had stolen from the wrong people, a lot of the wrong people. Somehow someone found out that he had been siphoning money off of large accounts that his bank handled, accounts that were used for holding the ill gotten gains of people who didn't want to get their own hands dirty. Like everything else, they threw money at the problem, and hoped to make an example. They had written off the losses because it was 'only money'.

The one contract that Malik found was a third party who wanted information. It wasn't that Malik shied away from killing, hell he had enough blood on his hands to know that they were never going to come clean. Malik just had a good head for business and knew that less competition for a job meant more of a chance for being the one who got paid. This contract wanted the account numbers and passwords of the accounts the banker used to hide the stolen money. He also did the math on the payday and renegotiated his fee. Instead of the flat pay for any information that panned out, Malik wanted a percentage of the total sum they were able to recover. The client agreed because it reduced their initial debt, and it gave incentive for the merc to do a better job. Malik took the job.

Stealing wasn't one of his preferred jobs, but stealing from a thief that everyone wanted dead was just fine. If he died, he wouldn't come after what was taken, and if he lived he would be too busy running for his life. Sight of the target brought him out of his thoughts. The banker was coming down the street, about to turn the corner for the last leg of his journey to work. He still hadn't realized his crimes were discovered by his victims. That was the problem with people who had power. They thought they were untouchable, and nothing could ever go wrong. Things went wrong all the time and Malik was one of them. He crossed the street and joined the crowed ahead of the man. He knew exactly where he was going so there was no need to follow. All he had to do was mingle in the crowd, and drag his feet until the banker passed him. Even though he was in the crowd walking towards the bank, Malik did not notice the red head who was crossing the street away from the bank. The Lion and the Wolf were so focused on the same prey, they failed to notice one another.

The banker's purposeful stride finally carried him passed Malik and that was the instant he punched the clock and went to work. One step to quicken his pace and fall in beside the banker, and a strong push of his right hand. The muzzle of the silenced small caliber gun pressed into the banker's spine. "Shut up, and keep walking." he quietly commanded in a voice that was punctuated by the feel of a hard barrel digging into flesh and fabric. "I WILL shoot you the moment you give me reason. It won't kill you, but you'll never walk again. I can carry you, so you're the only one that cares about your legs."


"Huh?!?! What do you want? Oh gods....." , surprise laced the banker's voice and fear set more with each word as the situation dawned upon him. Shock and terror made him nice and obedient. He kept quiet and his legs kept moving. Instead of turning into the main doors of the building, he walked right passed them.

When Svetlana reached her perch and brought up the scope to find her prey walking into the door, she found him walking passed it, or at least she thought it was him walking passed it. Her line of sight was being blocked by the body of a tall, broad shouldered man walking just beside and behind the banker. She could see the banker's left shoulder and the distinctive pattern of his suit, but there were no significant shots for her to take and fulfill the contract. Not without killing the man in her way and tipping off her target. "Come on." Malik commanded after they had moved passed the banking building, and tugged him to the right. Together they crossed the street, and went to a van that was waiting at the corner. It was a 'short term loaner' that Malik had 'borrowed' without permission. The van made deliveries at night, so they wouldn't notice it gone until that night. He would have it wiped clean and returned by then.

Their path kept Malik unknowingly in Svetlana's sights as the moved out of her target range without leaning out over the building. With his free hand Malik opened the van door, and pushed the banker inside. He climbed in after, closed the door, and handcuffed him to the leg of the passenger seat. "What the hell do you want?!?! Why are you doing.... AGHK" His eyes buldged as Malik put down the gun and grabbed him by the throat.

Two fingers and a thumb pressed into the banker's jaw right behind the hinge making him yell out in pain and open his mouth. "We'll talk soon enough." Malik had something in his right hand which he put inside the banker's open mouth, and then forced it shut. The hand around his throat loosened, and the man swallowed desperately trying to get air. Satisfied that the man had swallowed whatever it was he had given him, Malik let go of his face, and slid behind the wheel. The key was already in the ignition to make their exit that much swifter. He gave it a turn, the engine kicked over, and Malik hit the gas pedal. The van merged into traffic and calmly and started on the south bound street that led out of the business district and into the Slums. "You stole from some very rich people, and they found out. You know who I'm talking about. For them the amounts are insignificant, but it's the principle of the matter."

The terror of what was happening finally sank into the banker and made him forget all about whatever it was that he had just swallowed. "Oh gods...... Shit! Are you gonna kill me?" he asked in a panicked voice as Malik smoothly switched into a faster moving lane of traffic. The cities were crowded so traffic never moved much faster than 30 miles an hour in the crowded part of the city. It didn't matter. His destination was only a few miles away and he would be there shortly. "Please.... Let me go. I can pay you. Whatever they're paying you I can double it." Malik's silence unnerved him so he did what came natural, try to buy his way out of it.

What the fuck was this!? Lana momentarily lowered the scope and blinked in confusion. She couldn’t decide if her superior had someone working against her or another merc from a third party had just dove in and swiped her kill. Nor did she have time to contemplate them at this exact moment. Quickly she snapped the rifle’s safety feature in place, swung it around towards her back and hopped up from her squatting position. She had very little time to move and wasted none of it. Taking the stairs would be too long so instead she darted towards the edge of the building that dipped into an alley between the apartments and a Laundromat.

Without hesitation she took a leap of faith over the side of the building; arms and legs flailing in midair as she dropped five stories and landed in a crouched position. Her booted feet leaving slight indentures within the top of an old VW van with the Laundromat’s logo painted on the side. Two startled employees peeked out at her from behind the vehicle; loads of clean clothes and fabrics, all nicely wrapped in their own bags filled the arms of the two women. Lifting a single finger to her lips, she motioned for them to not scream as she gracefully slipped down from her high perch.

As her feet hit the pavement she watched her target pull away from the curb across the street. ‘This would be an easy job,’ he said, ‘No need to get dirty,’ he said. Well fuck if she didn’t have to chase down a goddamned van! Flynn, that wannabe father-figure mentor was seriously getting a boot up his ass when next she saw him. Even if it was a few months to a year from now, she would remember this and hold on to it long enough to let him know how very displeased she was.

Rushing out of the alleyway, she stopped for a split second to judge the speed of the van times the distance it was at and then when there was a break in traffic Lana made a run for it. She weaved between the slow moving vehicles; her arms and legs pumping as she neared the van that carried her payday and the guy that had just fucked it up. Break lights flash as the van bounced from a large dip in the road and she lunged for it. Her arms stretched up high as she gripped the top edge of the van and her boots to the rear bumper upon the vehicle’s descent back to the road.

Behind her, in a rather beat-up old BMW, a ragtag group of teenagers were staring agog at her. Again she used that universal signal for silence as the traffic continued on its way. Out of the city proper and towards the less fortunate part of Librium. Sometime during the ride out, Lana had managed to haul herself up onto the top of the van and laid flat on her stomach.

"So you've got the money to pay me off? You don't even know how much the contract on your head is." Malik looked back at the man who was laying on the floor of the van. He was huddled there trying to find a way out of the handcuffs but they were solid, and on him tightly.

"I don't care. I'll pay whatever you want." he said with a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Good, then I want all of it." Malik said to him and watched the man's face drop.

"All of it? Then I won't have anything... they're gonna kill me." he retorted looking down at his hands in the cuffs. "Oh gods.... I feel sick."

"Good. You're supposed to," Malik said and turned his eyes back to the road. He was too focused on the passenger to notice the woman running up the sidewalk after him, and when Svetlana moved into the street, she quickly stuck to his blind spots while she closed the distance. He didn't even notice her mounting the van from behind thanks to the uneven roadway. "You don't have to die. You give back the money and they'll let you live. You still have the money don't you? What did you do, transfer it to other accounts? That's the way you types work. Give me the account numbers and the passwords. I transfer the money out and let you go on your way."

The banker sat there looking like he was about to vomit while he thought about his options. There weren't many as he was already caught. While he thought Malik had entered the slums and pulled into one of the unused warehouses that business used from time to time to store goods. Once inside Malik drove to the back of the building, out of sight, turned off the engine and moved out of the driver's seat to look into the banker's eyes. "You can either tell me now or after you've had enough of me torturing you. Just a few numbers and words and you can walk away without being scarred for life. How many accounts did you use? One..... five? You have any hobbies? Any family? I bet you use personal stuff for passwords so you remember them."

Malik held his gaze and made sure the darkness from a lifetime of taking lives, showed in his chocolate browns. He wanted this man to be afraid. He wanted him to think about what was going to happen. "Did you use your own bank for the accounts or did you use another firm?" The man was just staring blankly at Malik so he gave him a swift smack across the face, "WAKE UP!" While the banker started to whine and squirm, Malik undid the cuffs, held one end and walked to the back door of the van, "That's nothing compared to what a blow torch is gonna feel like. Tell me now so I don't have to waste anymore time."

"What guarantee do I have that you won't kill me once I tell them to you?" the banker asked as the door opened and Malik started to lead him out.

Easing herself up from the prone position, Lana crawled on all fours to the front of the van once it had come to a complete stop. She had no idea where they were, but the place was good enough for her to finish the job she’d started. Leaning forward she made a quick peek into the van from the front windshield so she could assess the situation. The hulking Lion’s back was blocking her view of the lanky banker, but she could at least hear what they were discussing now. Some dribble about money and bank accounts.

SMACK! As the banker cried out in pain and his captor moved to relocate them from the van, Lana shuffled to the edge and dropped off one side. She landed soundlessly to the left of the van, between it and a wall. As soon as the doors opened she got a strong whiff of fear and feline. Oh, well this is interesting. Her subconscious self smirked even as she was sure that the Lion would have no problem picking up her own canine scent. It wasn’t anything like a wet dog or unpleasant. In fact Lana was very OCD about hygiene so she often smelled like vanilla and roses.

Easing towards the back of the van, she quickly rounded and took a few large steps backwards. One of her handguns drawn from a pocket on her black cargo fatigues, cocked and aimed directly at the door as it slid upwards to reveal the two men; the Lion and the lamb, as it were. “If you don’t want to be shot, I suggest you move outta my way.” Her words were for the hulking feline that blocked her direct sight to the man he was leading. She wasn't contracted to kill the Lion and she really hated to deviate from a specific path. If she could avoid unnecessary death then she would.

Perhaps that was a shock of surprise she saw flutter across the Lion’s face. It gave her subconscious a smug satisfaction to know that she’d one-up’d him in such a small fashion. The banker, who had stopped rambling the moment he heard Lana’s voice, shifted slightly so he was peeking out from around Malik’s shoulder.

Life was different for those who were born different. Most humans and some Others couldn't understand it. While Others were born with their own special attributes, they saw themselves as 'how Terra made them', instead of how some other beings were brought into existence by the actions of another. Humans were capable of amazing things, seeing the unseen or great physical feats, but they had to draw on a power in order to accomplish them. For Malik and those like him there was no need to draw on anything. The strength and extraordinary senses were simply a part of who him. They had been there since birth, and he knew no other world but through them. When the van door opened Malik didn't have to strain or conjure some spell, nor did he have to think about it. He breathed in and knew the world as it presented itself. Stale air with the dusty scent of abandoned building, and the warm welcome of a woman's presence. She was fresh and clean, but at the same time wild and dangerous. A wolf come to eat the stray sheep.

'Shit,' Malik thought to himself and put eyes immediately on the person who shouldn't be there. It would see the contract on the man's life was already being cashed in. This wasn't good. Malik didn't care if this man lived or died in the long run, but it was too soon for him to die. The 'thing' that Malik had forced down the banker's throat was a Psychic Worm, a now illegal remnant of the war. It had been developed as an interrogating tool during the war to harvest information from targets who proved resistant to torture. It worked by mining the thoughts of its victim, and devouring the targeted information so it could be collected later. One side created it, and the other side developed their own when they found out such a thing was possible, and when the war ended they both called for such things to be outlawed. Being illegal didn't unmake them, it just made them hard to get and expensive. Malik had seen them used on enemy assets during the war, and knew it could help him complete his job so he got one. It made information gathering easier but not guaranteed, the Worm didn't work on dead men.

He had to buy more time. He had to keep the banker alive until the worm did its job. This job just got complicated. Malik watched as the woman took too giant steps back to keep her distance from him. He was fast for a human but other Weres were faster than him. Lisette may have been able to close that distance before she got a shot off, but he didn't have a chance. No doubt she knew what he was as scent worked both ways. "Keep your head down man.... you're no good to me dead," he said without trying to lower his voice and not be heard. He knew her ears would pick up his faintest whisper at this close range. His eyes never left the flame haired woman who smelled of delicious things. "You and I both know that's not going to happen," he said to her and then flexed his arm.

Strength was another thing that was always there. It took no straining or effort to summon it up. What it took was a lifetime of control, to learn how to be gentle with the world around him. It was time to stop being gentle. His arm flexed, pulling the door closed with unnatural strength that forced the air out of the hydraulic bushings hard enough to break their gaskets. The arm forced out as legs pushed, and the steel hinges gave a metallic cry before ripping like tissue paper. The door was now a shield too thick for hand gun bullets to penetrate. Instead of trying to make a run for it, Malik charged his new opponent. "Other side of the van, NOW! he growled at the banker.

He hoped that she would try to squeeze off a few rounds in an attempt to shoot them, but that ultimately didn't matter if she did nor not. He quickly closed the distance, keeping his eyes on her shadow. He couldn't see her because the door was in the way, but her shadow told him where and how she moved so he could keep track of her. Using the door like a roman soldier he tried to ram her and throw her off balance. If that was successful his next move was to reach for her gun wrist with his free arm. He had to keep her from shooting the banker any way he could. Right now the best option was keeping the gun from being pointed at him while he ran to hide behind the front of the van.

Briefly her green eyes flicked to the partial head that gingerly peeked from behind the large, dark figure. There was enough room for her to make the shot, but not without causing injury to the banker’s protector. She wasn’t here for the Lion, she was here for the Lamb. His voice was just as dark as his complexion and somewhere inside Lana, there was a stirring of something that until now had been dead to the redheaded werewolf. Whatever it was, she pushed it to the backburner because if she analyzed it too much then she’d be useless to her job.

But the cat was braver than she expected…stronger too. One jerk saw the door ripped from its hinges; a task she could have managed in maybe two or three more yanks. Impressive, especially since she could see the ripple of muscle as his arms worked to hold the door up. She had a two-step lead on him, so as the Lion lurched out of the van, making sure to keep the banker at his back, Lana mentally swore and turned on her heels. She kicked her speed up a few notches above her opponent, sprinting towards the far wall of the warehouse beside the entrance they had pulled through.

A half second before the Lion would have crushed her against the wall she took two giant steps up the vertical incline and then shoved off. Her body flipped, back bowed so that the top of her head barely skimmed against his with her curly red ponytail brushing at his forehead for a short moment. As her feet made the turn back to the ground, she landed in a graceful crouch. Her free left hand was flat against the cold floor; fingers splayed so that her balance was even set between her feet and upper torso, while her gun hand was stretched out to her side. “You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?”

Her taunt was infused with a playful undertone, yet did not match the serious expression worn by her pretty face. Whipping her legs forward, she struck with her left leg in a short arc; her foot aligned with his ankles as he was turning to face her. She would knock his legs out from beneath him and if successful, use her right foot to kick the makeshift shield from his grasp and send the broken van door soaring out of his reach. From there the force of her turning lower half would bring her back around to face the van where her target was cowering and as her feet once again planted against the floor, she’d shoot up and start a brisk pace back across the room.

Freight train wasn't the best way to describe his movement, but it definitely gave the sense of impending doom that came with standing in his path. His brown eyes tracked the shadow as it moved and he corrected is path to make sure he kept her on the run. He was hoping to catch her between the wall and the door, and keep her pinned there, but that wasn't going to happen. She was far too agile to be caught there. One moment she was in front of him, and the next Lana was sailing over Malik's head in a graceful arc. The van door crashed into the wall kicking up dust from the hard impact and Malik rebounded off of the wall as Svetlana landed.

Her quick and graceful attack caught him just as he was trying to recover and turn to face her. The slender leg kicked the tree trunks he stood on out from under him. Immediately his body pitched backwards and he started to fall. Her second kick was easily disarmed him of the van door because he had loosened his grip on it the moment he started to fall. The door went spinning away through the air and Malik was already in motion. He was born in the form of a man but his instincts were that of a cat. The moment he started to fall, his body started to twitch and convulse. To an outside observer it would have seemed an awkward motion, almost a seizure, but for Malik it was his body working perfectly.

Muscles tensed and contracted and his limbs flailed hard to achieve one purpose, to flip him over. Cats always landed on their feet. In this instance, the cat landed on his hands and feet. The moment she was up and walking back towards the van, Malik was pushing himself forward on all fours, and getting up to a walking position as he moved forward. His arms moved out at her waist as he passed her. If he could get arms around her he would throw her backwards towards the wall she had just flipped off of. If he couldn't get a hold on her, he would try to close line her midsection and knock her backwards. He chose her midsection as his target because it would take her more time to move it out of the way than if he went high or low. Even if he didn't connect he would put himself between her and her mark. Malik had drawn a line and he wasn't going to let her cross it. "I don't go down that easy."

One, two, three steps into her determined stride and there was a thick, brown-skinned arm jutting out. The hard muscled limb caught her across the abdomen at such a swift jab that Lana lost her footing and sailed backwards. The air whizzed from her lungs as her back made impact with the ground, along with the back of her head as it cracked one good time. There were a few seconds when her vision blurred and started to go dark at the corners, but like any dog, she shook her head from side to side; shaking off the effects of the way he disarmed her.

“Good,” she growled as she bent her legs, leaping swiftly into the air with her torso lowered so that her shoulders were aimed at his midsection. In just one and a half steps she had tossed herself at the Lion with all her strength so that her right shoulder would connect with his gut as her slender arms would circle around his waist. While he was a big man, Lana could certain lift him from his feet and if she was successful, Lana would suspend him there momentarily before hurling him back down to the ground onto his back. “I wouldn’t want to think you were going easy on me because I’m a woman.”

When she would have made her next move, there was a scuffling that caught her attention. Green eyes, that flashed their glowing golden-yellow when the werewolf was close to breaking free, rushed up to see the banker edging across the far wall of the warehouse; his attention torn between the fighting mercenaries and a lone window that low enough for him to jump through. Of course there was the threat of pain from having to throw oneself through a pane of glass, but what were a few cuts and scrapes compared to the possibility of losing one’s life?

Strength and speed were a deadly combo in this girl. She took the hit and bounced off the wall as if she was no stranger to combat. She even weathered the loss of air from her lungs like a veteran. Without missing a step she threw herself at Malik like a charging bull. Her shoulders angled for his midsection so Malik prepared for the worse. It could easily turn into a leg scoop take down that would put him in bad grapple position, so he leaned forward to keep his legs far back away from her. Sneakers skidded across the gritty cement. He'd managed to keep her from getting a hold of his legs, but she had another option by virtue of her birth.

Her thoughts were correct. While he did have great strength, his body weighed only slightly more than a man of his same size. Malik came off the ground easily and went into her body slam. He could have locked his arms around her waist to lock up and keep her from slamming him, but there was something more important for him to do. His hands quickly wandered her body with a military efficiency. He knew where weapons should be and where weapons were best hidden. There was no enjoyment in his exploration, just quick movements and violent feats of strength. Each time he found the lump or bulge that could be a gun, Malik tore it of her, and flung it outward. He only had a few seconds to work, the same span it took her to get position, lift, and plant him. Malik knew it would hurt but it was worth the risk. The last target was the gun she still had in her hand. He didn't try to disarm her of it, he simply grabbed the slide with his hand and squeezed when he hit the ground.

The impact of his body being deposited on the floor was enough to make the dust rise in a mushroom cloud like outline of him. Malik didn't let his hold on the gun linger. It was going to backfire if she tried to use it, and he had more pressing business with the floor to attend to. He exhaled completely before preparing for the impact so that he wouldn't be stunned by the loss of air to his lungs. When he hit and bounded off the cement, he inhaled deeply and coughed a bit on the dust. The lion was born to be a tank of living muscle and bone, engineered to take abuse and dish it out. Rolling over on to his side he looked up to see the red wolf sauntering after her prey. He would have enjoyed the show if stopping her hadn't been the only thing on his mind. As Malik pushed himself up onto his feet the sound of broken glass was on the edge of his notice. Good, the banker was running. That meant he had more time. Malik had his scent so he could hunt him down later, but so could the she-wolf.

Malik used the moment of distraction that took her attention off of him and put it on the banker to his advantage. It was time for him to return the favor. Malik threw himself behind her to keep the sound of footsteps from alerting her to his approach. Boots landed firmly behind her, and arms moved to lift her small frame off of the ground. "I'm hard on everyone." If he was successful, instead of slamming her on to the ground as she had done to him, he would leap up and join her body in mid air. Arms would entangle with hers, and legs would wrap one around her waist and the other between her legs. Unless she managed to avoid him lifting her, they would land together in a tangled heap, him on the ground, and her laying embraced back against his chest.

Malik's muscles were like steel and in a grapple he would have the strength advantage while she was in human form. He would be able to hold her there as long as necessary. He had no qualms with her and even though she was a wolf, she was still of them. He didn't care how others viewed the relations between New Breed and Werewolf. To Malik they were all Tribe of the Moon, and he refused to put her in a deadly lock. She hadn't done anything that warranted him killing her. He would simply hold her if he could, until the worm had done its job. They were in the middle of an abandoned section of the slums, which even the homeless had left because of a strange explosion a week ago that took out a whole block. This place was deserted, and too large for the banker to escape before either of them found him.

Long, swift strides had her closing the distance between them. The banker’s tangible fear caused Lana’s nostrils to flare and her adrenaline to pump excitedly through her veins as she reached out towards him, intending to grab the scruff of his shirt and haul him backwards. Before her fingers could close around his shirt, there was a pair of strong arms wrapping around her from behind. They wrapped around her own limbs like vices and pulled back as the Lion lifted her from the ground and, along with his own body, sent them backwards to the floor.

With the protection of the Lion’s body at her back as they landed, Lana was saved from the same outcome she had suffered earlier. The shattering sound of glass informed her of the target’s escape just as her opponent’s legs wrapped over hers and forced them down; a little makeshift hog-tying if there was one. Huffing with annoyance, she lay there utterly still for the longest moment. Her burning amber eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling of the warehouse as she focused on forcing down the urge to shift and rip the cat a new hole to breathe through.

“You’re really not going to let me kill him, are you?” Her chest was heaving with the force of her breathing. Sucking air in through her nose and forcing it out of her mouth in time with his as she felt the rise and fall of his chest against her back. Shutting her eyes, Lana let her dead drop back against his shoulder; resting there for a moment as the beast inside of her began to calm and the color of her eyes shifted back to their more human green color. “Why are you protecting him?”

Relief surged through Malik when he was able to get a hold around the she-wolf and land on the ground. She was being held in place and every moment she stayed there with him was one more moment that the worm had to work. While they lay there the banker ran through the deserted streets of the abandoned slums. He looked from side to side at the abandoned buildings that lined the street, hoping to find one that he could use to hide in. He was finding it hard to pick one, or even think about which building was the better choice, because he had a splitting migraine all of a sudden. He grabbed his head with his hand and cursed his bad luck. Kidnapped, marked for death, and running for his life, he now had a headache to top it all off.

"No. I'm not." he growled into her ear, his voice echoing the effort he put into his arms and legs to restrain her. She was small compared to him but he wasn't going to underestimate her strength or her skill. The Lion didn't live to be sixty years old by being reckless. He kept his hold firm as they lay there together on the cold concrete floor. Feeling the woman exhale and relax came as an unexpected surprise. He was ready for her to start thrashing in an attempt to escape. Not taking any chances, Malik constricted his arms and legs to hold her just as tightly as he had before. Luckily his heart was already pounding from the adrenaline of the fight, so the flame haired beauty resting her head against his shoulder wouldn't cause much of a change in heart rate.

"That's not the way I work. I don't give up my contracts." He said to her in a quiet rumble since he knew how sensitive her hearing was. There was no need to yell, and talking was good. Talking bought him more time. "You wouldn't tell me who wants him dead would you? I just need to keep him alive, so that's what I'm gonna do."

‘Sonuvabitch’, she thought as she lay there; listening to his voice and not concentrating on how his warm breath felt against the shell of her ear. She had to get out of here, had to find the banker and had to kill him. It was agony to her that he’d gotten away and her only consolation was that she could track him by scent. The scent of his fear that still lingered there in the warehouse with the two mercs; becoming as familiar to the werewolf as the Lion was.

She could shift. Her head cocked to the side, shifting against his shoulder so that she had it partially turned and her green eyes assessing his face. How would the Lion react to that? Would he manage to maintain his hold on her through the process? Or would he let go like she hoped, giving her the freedom to chase the target down and destroy him? “I don’t give up my contracts either.” Since she’d lost her rifle in the brawl and the barrel of the Colt was now completely useless thanks to her opponent, Lana was forced to rely on her own physical strength.

Her right hand, hidden at his side since he had her arms locked down against his ribcage, turned so her palm was resting flat at his waist. “Hmm. Why not tell me why you’re hell bent on keeping him alive and I might consider sharing my secret with you…” as she spoke, there was a very subtle upturn at the edges of her lips. Lana didn’t know how to flirt, but she was doing her best to keep his attention on her face. The green of her eyes, which were spotted with flecks of yellow, now as she mentally worked to control her inner beast; centered it all on her right hand that was now formed to his waist with the fingers pressing against his body above his clothes.

Fingers curling in towards his body, her hand started to throb with a dull ache as her fingernails popped off only to be replaced by the claws of the werewolf. If he realized what she was doing, the Lion had time to shift their arrangement, but if not, then Lana would dig those 3in talons into his side. Through clothing and flesh.

At least they were of the same mind about ethics, though it took merit away from her words about sharing secrets. She was probably old school, a former operative for the government or a private organization. Any secrets she shared would likely be lies. He felt her shifting in his grasp and he tilted his head so he could look down at her face. She was beautiful. She even had the pouty lips that curled into the seductive smile. This face had probably been the chink in the armor of many men, but Malik was more than a man. He drew a breath and saw through the mask. Her scent was as cold and hard as steel. If that look she gave him was real there would have been something in her scent to compliment it.

The feel of her hand shifting between them called his attention to the area, and being a male his mind started to work in ways that weren't purely tactical. It slowly crept lower and then fell still. Thoughts of wanting her hand to continue downward were drowned out by the knowledge that she was the type of woman that had a reason for everything she did. Nothing was unimportant and it was up to him to figure out why. "Comfy? How about we forget about work and just stay like this." His words were playful but he knew exactly how grave the situation is. That was when he felt it. The strange feeling beneath the skin that was almost like popcorn popping as the body changed. He felt it but it wasn't coming from his own body.

Malik knew what was coming. She was skilled enough to do a controlled shift of a part of her body. He was tough but claws, strength, and his exposed stomach were a bad combination. As quickly as he could his entire body rushed into motion. His legs unwrapped from hers, pressed into the ground, and he bridged his back. His arms shifted, moving the woman's entire body with their power, and he catapulted her away from him. Her body went flying through the air with all the power he had, aimed at the wall directly behind them. If she was shifting he didn't want to be anywhere near her. If she was shifting, he was at a disadvantage. If she was shifting he would have to shift too, or die.

Malik rolled over onto his hands and knees and looked up at her. His eyes searched every detail of her body looking for signs of the change in her movements and her body. The moment he saw one he was going to unleash the beast. The lion inside had stood from its rest on the grassy hill. It was time to roar. It was time to bear claws and rend flesh. "Are we really gonna do this?" he asked as his eyes began to lighten to a feline amber.

“Comfy? How about we forget about work and just stay like this.” One raised brow was a silent inquiry to his statement as her fingers continued to transform. Either he was very good at playing the part of tempting seduction, or the Lion was privy to her secretive game. Either way, the outcome was what she’d both anticipated and wanted. A moment later saw her body flung up and out, free from the hindering embrace so that she soared through the air.

Mid-flight, Lana twisted at the torso so she no longer flew at a dangerous angle; managing to bend her legs in so that when finally her body made impact with the wall, it was her back that took the hit and not her front. Another moment of being better prepared as she braced for the hard surface; keeping control of her breathing as well as her vision on the descent back to the floor. “What’s wrong? Don’t like my nails?” She teased him as she crouched on all fours, with said claws delicately tapping against the concrete surface of the ground.

“Do you see any other option? I have a job to do. You are in the way of me finishing it.” He was taking the control out of her hands. She hated having to step outside the boundaries of a contract and kill someone she wasn’t after, but he was hindering her ability to even complete the task. “Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.” The easy way would have been with him just standing aside from the get-go so she could spare the banker all this trouble by planting a bullet between his eyes. But no, men always had to find a way to make things so damn difficult.

It really was the reason why she’d never gotten involved with one in all her 30 years of living. Work with one on occasion, but anything beyond that and Lana didn’t have the tolerance for the bull that followed them. But to say that the Lion didn’t pique her interest would be a flat out lie.

Rising up from her crouched pose, her eyes darted between him and the window, then a glance over her shoulder to the closed bay door that he’d driven into upon arrival. She could make a run for the window, but with the Lion between her there was a chance he could thwart her plan. Or she could bust her way through the bay door. Decisions, decisions…

"Only if they were on my back," he said with a smirk that was turning into a growl. He could afford to make quips now that he had distance to keep her claws from digging into his skin. He watched her for a moment and then realized that it was best to take the preemptive rout with this fight. He was much larger than her and his transformation would take a little longer than hers. The only down side was Malik had not come prepared to shift the way he did on rift hunts. He wasn't wearing the gear that was designed for New Breed soldiers, so there was the chance that he would destroy his clothing in the process and have to be naked when he shifted back.

Reaching inside himself, Malik pulled back the restraints that kept him from giving in to the beast fully, and triggered the change. There was a glorious surge of energy that raced through him from core to fingertips. It was like being reborn, and birth always came with pain. His muscles began to burn and then they started to swell and tear. Malik's jaw clenched agaisnt the pain but it wasn't enough for him to cry out, not yet. Hands quickly moved to open his jacket, pull it off, and then tore his shirt over his head. His exposed chest heaved with each breath, the muscles became more defined as they strained otu of his control, and then they started to grow large and deformed. Malik fell forward onto all fours, his nails receded into his skin, and thick claws burst through the tips of his fingers as his hands spread.

"I can't let him die until I'm done with him...." he said through a strained face that held back the pain. Shoes ripped as feet elongated and pants stretched at the seams. Whatever it was he was turning into, it was massive. Suddenly his mouth opened in an all too human yell of agony that became a deafening roar. He had just given her the out she needed after he took away her option to use it. He kept his rich feline amber eyes on her as his face changed and a mane grew about his head and shoulders. He was focused on her, the beast was being unleashed, and she was the reason. The time for reason had passed.

Golden fur sprouted through mocha skin, bones broke and elongated to create new frame, and muscles tore and grew to provide the immense strength to power it all. His once bald head now sported a full black mane that crowned his feline face. The clothes he still wore lay in tatters beneath him leaving him completely nude save for the fur on his body, and he was still continuing to grow. When it was all said and done: a full three feet of extra length to his body, his width had tripled at the shoulders, and almost six hundred pounds of new muscle were added to his body. The Lion, New Breed war machine, engineered and bred for strength and endurance. They were the living tanks of the human army during the great war.

On his back, hmm? Her head canted to the side as her green eyes slid in his direction. She was still weighing her options when he’d made the quip. Lana looked down at the 3in claws adoring her right hand; clicking them together as she imaged scraping the sharpened tips down the center of his back. The thought aroused Lana as both a woman and as an animal. Tearing into soft flesh seemed to get the beast inside of her worked into an excited frenzy. “So you want to play the hard way.”

He didn’t want to give up, which was fine with her. She’d taken down men a lot bigger than he was, women too. If he killed her, so be it. Death was a part of life and she’d often thought of what it would be like. Death seemed relaxed and peaceful; two things her life was not. Turning back to him, the werewolf took her cue from the lion. Using his distraction of shifting to transform her own body from the curvaceous redhead into a ferocious beast; doubling over as a sharp pain lanced through her abdomen. Arms crossing at her middle as her knees hit the floor.

Along her back, each vertebrae in her spine popped out of place and extending from the coccyx by another two and a half feet to make up the length of her tail; pulling at the fabric of her plain t-shirt until it ripped from neckline to hemline. Next to break were her arms; each of her fingers all the way up to her shoulders, which expanded to accommodate the new muscle forming over new bone. Her shoes ripped at the seams as her feet transformed into a dogs hind quarters; though much larger and giving her the option of being bipedal. Clothes torn from her body as she shot up another foot and a half; muscles thickened to add an extra 225lbs to her body weight.

Her jaw had dislocated to extend out to form her maw; teeth being pushed from their place in her gum line and replaced by pearly, pointy tipped canines. Covering her body was a belt of thick, red fur that was lighter and softer down her chest and stomach while other areas were darker. Pointed ears flattened back as she glared across the way at him. Now who would make the first move?

Even through the pain Malik was aware of his surroundings. He saw the clothes tear from her body as the change started to overtake her. Even though she had started the transformation after him, she was complete when Malik let out his deafening roar. The war cry reverberated off the concrete walls and floor causing dust and mortar to shake from the structure. Massive pawed hands pressed into the floor and flexed, causing retractable claws to peek out slightly and dig trenches in the concrete. A long tail capped with a thick tuft of black fur whipped back and forth wildly.

Muscles rippled with Malik's every slight shift of weight, and eyes burned with ferocity. His large muzzle wrinkled and curled at the edges to reveal ivory white fangs made for tearing flesh. They too parted and a growl escaped with such base that the main around his head quivered. Limbs bent into a crouch, then suddenly his massive body sprang forward with surprising grace and agility. One bound covered half the distance between them. Pawed hands planted, followed by clawed hind legs which were large enough to support his weight and let him walk upright, and then they set him airborne.

His massive shadow passed over her like an eclipse of the worlds light, as all eight hundred plus pounds of rage driven Werelion descended upon her. Malik was attempting to pounce upon her, and drive the she-wolf into the ground. If she happened to move out of the way, he was prepared for that as well. Like a true cat he would land on his feet, but only the hind ones were necessary for that. They could easily compress and support his weight. His torso was set to crank around so that he could swipe out with one of his massive paws, six plush inch black claws exposed, and yearning to be sunk deep into flesh.

Responding to his roar in kind, Lana snorted afterwards and snapped her maw together. He was big; much bigger than she had expected him to grow. Not easily intimidated by this, her ears flattened back as she crouched further and her hind legs kicked back; drawing the claws on her feet against the dusty surface of the warehouse floor. Just as he was making preparations to pounce her; wiggling his rear with the back and forth swish of his long tail, Lana tensed the muscles in her body and lunged.

The two beasts collided together, mid-air and tumbled back down. A larger cloud of dust mushroomed around them and Lana latched on to his large body with her arms. Pulling her legs up between their bodies, she pressed her feet against his chest and started to kick them down so that her claws would rake against his upper torso from just below his neck to his waist. Her teeth snapped viciously at various areas around his neck and shoulders, trying to find a way through the mane that crowned his head and her hands clawing at the region of his back.

Tearing herself away from him after only seconds of this, Lana rolled her body across the floor and jump up to stand as her hands reached for his tail. If she was successful in grabbing it, the werewolf would yank until she got the lion in motion and start to spin in place. Gaining momentum until she could release him with enough force to send the oversized kitten flying at the wall.

Leaping wasn't the best tactic because it almost negated ones mobility, but it was a natural tactic for him. Soaring through the air he watched as the wolf crouched and then leapt up at him. He bared fangs and growled in excitement. His pawed hands flexed, pushing claws from sheaths in anticipation. The she-wolf did not flee. She was coming right at him. This was no prey he faced. This was a worthy opponent. It had been a very long time since he faced a worthy opponent. Rift beasts, no matter how dangerous, were still only prey. She was like him, a warrior.

The two bodies collided in mid air, her force stopping his momentum, and they dropped like massive stones. Being the heavier of the two, his body moved to the bottom of their tangle, and hit the ground cushioning the impact for her. The thick muscles that made up his back were more than enough protection for his spine, and the thick main was protection enough to keep his head from the floor. Falling was the least of his worries though. The wolf seemed to climb around his larger frame like he was a jungle gym. Arms held on and oriented her body, while jaws snapped for his throat, only to find mouthfuls of thick fur. Eons of evolution gave male lions a natural protection from such attacks. Yes they were hunters, but they also took on other hunters to defend what was theirs.

Svetlana's feet once in place found the hard muscles of his chest, planted, and then forced their way downward. It was well known that werecreatures were very durable, but that changed when facing one of your own. Claws driven by strength pierced his fur covered hide, and tore trenches down the length of his torso. Even the claws on his back left marks, though not as deep. Malik roared out and pain then moved his claws to strike out at her, but she was too quick as well as agile. By the time he recovered and swung, she had made her escape.

With the speed and agility of a cat Malik moved his muscles and flipped his body over onto his feet so that he could take the fight to her and leave some marks of his own. He spun around to face her, but she was already on the move. The lion felt strong claws wrap around his tail and start to pull, and decided that was one insult that would not go unanswered. No one pulled on his tail. Malik's left claw went to the center of his tail and grabbed hold, while his right curled into a fist. He gave a quick turn and pivot of his feet with all of his strength. Tug of war was a game she couldn't hope to win against his superior strength and he could feel the secure grip she had on his tail. One paw suddenly pulled on the tail to throw her off balance, and the other followed through with its wrecking ball of a fist. If he managed to connect with the punch, he would try and follow through with a slashing of his left claw to either damage her or force her to react.

Catching a whiff of the coppery scent of Malik’s blood, Lana gave another tug on his tail as her tongue traced across her lower and upper maw. In the werewolf’s eyes, blood was blood, regardless of the source and even the tiniest aroma of it would tempt the animal towards a closer inspection for a small taste. The crimson color that darkened the fur covering the underside of the lion’s body drew her amber gaze down just as his right fist was swinging up towards her head.

What felt like the force of a sledge hammer connecting with the side of her skull forced the werewolf back; releasing her hold on the lion’s tail as she stumble. The next blow of his left landed across her chest; claws digging through thick red fur and slashing the flesh beneath to create long furrows. Lana yelped, then growled and grabbed his left arm; one hand wrapping around the wrist and the other hand just below his armpit.

Her hold was like a vice grip as she went to force him back down to the floor; putting a firm pressure on his arm to bend it in an unnatural direction. If she succeeded, the werewolf would stomp one hind foot against the middle of his back to continue forcing him down to the floor. This would continue until she had obtained hold over his right hand, brought it around and held the two together by the wrist, leaving one of her hands free to search through the thick mane crowning his head.

Long, claw-tipped fingers would wrap around the werelion’s neck with her thumb pressing dangerously on his jugular. Do Svidanya, she thought to herself as she would begin to squeeze and push the claw on her thumb into his throat.

The smell of their bloods mixing in the air hit his nose and sent the beast inside Malik wild. It was a satisfying reward for the two blows he dealt to the she-wolf. He watched as she staggered to the side and launched back for another round of attack. Lanna's large claws locked around his wrist, and she surprised him with the arm bar. Even as a beast she was a skilled combatant, using strength and leverage to get the best of him.

His body hit the floor hard and she quickly took hold of his other arm bending them both backwards. Pain blossomed in his tendons and joints as his limbs were bent into the awkward position. He felt her foot plant in the center of his back, and his arms shifting in her grip. Lana had made the mistake of putting both of his wrists in her one hand. If she had kept her earlier position, she would have been able to hold him down using the better leverage. Now she had both of his arms restrained by the strenght of a single hand's grip.

Even at the awkward angle they were being held at, the combined strength of his arms was greater than the grip of her single hand. As she reached into his main to search through the jungle of fur for his neck, Malik flexed his two arms together and broke them free from her hold. His left arm whipped around and the massive paw grabbed for the arm of the claw that was just finding his neck. His right hand slapped against the pavement and forced his body to roll over. She would be forced to get off of his back or trapped beneath his girth. She wouldn't have to be worried about that if he was successful in grabbing her arm. If able to get that hold on her arm, Malik would pull her off of his back, slam her into the ground hard, and throw her across the room.

Either way she would be forced from his back. Malik wasn't going to let it be passed up. Up on all fours Malik would be pursuing her. With only a few strides he would be up on his hind legs. With his large mass it was like a freight train coming towards her. In either case he was agile enough to correct his course to stay zoned in on her.

Her first mistake had been to underestimate his strength; her second mistake was becoming too arrogant in the fact that it was easy to force him down to the ground. As she’d been searching for his throat beneath that thick mane with her only free hand, the werelion surged upwards; tossing her from his back and tearing his wrist from her grasp in the same instance. His right paw wrapping around her wrist and forcing her to follow the motion of his body as he rolled into a stand; spinning her in a half circle and then releasing her so she was tossed effortlessly through the air and into an adjacent wall.

Bracing herself for the hard impact, Lana dropped to the ground in a cloud of dust while shaking off the effects of hitting such a sturdy object. The open wounds in her chest, spilling out blood in slow spurts, burned in a way that made Lana aware she was going to need some heavy-duty stitching. Aware of him through peripheral vision, Lana watched his body barrel towards her light a freight train. The werewolf crouched on all fours with one shoulder tilted against the wall, mimicking a resting pose. He was doing nothing but distracting her now from her goal; which was to kill the banker.

Waiting until the absolute last moment; when his body invaded her personal space too much, Lana shot out from between him and the wall. Her legs pumped, as did her arms, so she sailed across the distance to the window that her target had thrown himself from to escape. Her larger body crashing through the rest of the glass so that it rained down upon her as she tumbled out and rolled a few times across the dirt and gravel path.

The last roll saw the werewolf back onto all fours with her muzzle lifted to the air, tracking the scent of the banker. He was still within the slums, hiding out in an abandoned building some distance away from where Lana and Malik were. But he was not untraceable. Rising onto her hind legs, the werewolf took off in her targets direction; pausing only when she came to a split path to check in which direction he’d ran.

He moved with all possible speed and strength that his body could muster. Thick legs pushed and massive arms pulled. His muscular chest flexed and forced more blood to seep through the deep gashes in his chest that had already stained the fur of his stomach read. Malik paid no heed to the pain because it could not stop him, and the wounds did not endanger his life. His opponent called to him, challenged him by getting up to her feet once more. Each pump of his heart brought him closer to her and that much closer to victory, or so he thought.

Svetlana had gotten up to her feet and moved back in a stagger to the wall where she held herself upright. Malik thought nothing of her leaning against the wall, he thought of the ensuing battle, and the taste of her hot blood washing over his fangs as it flowed from her opened throat. He leapt at her with all his might. The distance was closed in the blink of an eye, but Svetlana was just as fast in moving. She threw herself to the side, to safety out of his path. His massive body hit the wall and tore through the brick and mortar as if it were tissue paper. The gaping hole his body left collapsed in on itself while Malik tumbled over the rubble strewn ground. Sharp claws grappled at the ground digging in to right him, and Malik skidded to a halt.

Malik roared out in pain when he moved. Pushing himself up from the ground brought awareness of new wounds. Broken lengths of Rebar stuck up from his shoulder and is upper arm. His own strength and momentum had driven them into his tough hide. Malik reached up, wrapped his giant paw around the shrapnel, and tore it loose. Agony shot through his core and he roared out his displeasure. All the while his amber eyes looked about the remnants of the broken wall and surrounding area. He searched for the werewolf, but found nothing. She was gone. He had given her enough time to get away. Luckily he knew where she would go. She was going after the banker, and he needed to find him. Rolling his shoulder, trying to work out the pain and soreness, Malik sniffed at the air and lurched into a run.

The banker had grown tired of running. Exhaustion too him quickly because he had a splitting headache. Each hard footstep of his stride and pound of his heart made his brain throb. Hoping that staying in one spot would help him ease the pain, the banker ran into an abandon building. Moving through the empty structure he looked about until he found a room with a closet on the second floor. He closed the door behind himself and huddled in the far back corner. Silently he prayed for the Divine to deliver him from the monsters.

She hadn’t bothered looking back to see the outcome of her feline opponent’s progression towards the wall. He was not a concern of hers; not now that she was back on the trail of the banker. Running near her top speed toward the abandoned building that the scent trail of fear and desperation led her to; where she was certain to find her target trembling with dread and unsure of what he should do. Lana’s nostrils flared with excitement as she slowed her pace while nearing the building. Two stories high with some broken windows and a roof that looked ready to cave in.

The front door was half off its hinges, lying at an angle across the entry. Snorting she grabbed it and tore the door from the top hinge; giving her a clear path as she discarded the object and dropped down to all fours. The smell of mold and stale cigarettes lingered in the air and just barely masked the scent of her target. She searched through the lower section of the building first; stopping to assess each room before moving on to the next. The process was done quickly as she worked through the different smells with quickness before moving on.

At the base of the stairs she stopped and her glowing amber eyes riveted up to the second floor. He was up there, hiding somewhere. Cautiously placing one of her large hands on a step, she leaned forward to test her weight against the aging material of the staircase and as an ominous groan was heard, Lana quickly stepped backwards. Modesty be damned, she would have to shift. Regardless that she had no spare clothing and the transformation would cause the wounds on her chest to bleed more quickly than they were.

Taking a step back, she calmed herself enough for the change to happen. Her body shrinking back down in phases as her bones rebroke to allow the shift from the beast she was back to the less, yet still highly intimidating red headed female from before. When it was done, she was kneeling on the floor with her hands planted in front as her breathing went from ragged to slow and steady. Green eyes focused on the cool lament tile beneath her knees. Rising up she looked down at the long gashes on her chest; their sharp sting felt and the blood that leaked from them trailing down flesh that was already marked with old scars.

Approaching the stairs again, she tested her lighter weight and when nothing threatening happened, she slowly started to make her way up to the second floor. A hallway dotted with open doorways met her at the top and as she stopped to take a good whiff, she caught the scent of the approaching lion. More aggravated than angry, she moved with determined strides into the room which the banker was hiding. Three quick steps brought her to the closet and with a decisive yank she found him huddled inside.

Arms shielding his head from the blows he anticipated, Lana stared down at him with a murderous glint in her eyes. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth. But I’m still going to kill you.” His pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as she wrenched him from his hiding spot and tossed him to the floor at her feet. In a contemplative moment, she stared silently down at him and then ordered him to remove his shirt. When he only looked at her with confusion, she growled low and reached down towards him. Her subtle movement spurred the man into action and quickly he shed the garment that she immediately took from him. It was now he noticed her state of undress and understood her demand.

Sliding the white dress shirt over her shoulders, she buttoned it up so that only the first two buttons at the top remained open. The top of one of the lion’s claw marks visible and the hem of the shirt barely brushing the tops of her thighs as the fabric clung against her curves. He was not a well built man, which was easy enough to tell even with his clothes on. As she was dragging the banker back to his feet with one hand wrapped around his neck, her commendable fighting partner from earlier chose that time to burst in on the fun. “He’s mine.”