Page 69 of Bad Blood Bear

Lissa’s fear threatened to turn to panic. Fucking stupid grizzly bear. What the hell was he thinking? “Why didn’t you go with him?” she snapped.

“We tried,” Flynn snapped back. “Jasmin followed him, but he got away from her.”

Crazy, brave, stupid grizzly. Why had he gone off alone? What was he thinking?”

Sloan took her arm gently, and Xander bumped her with his shoulder. “He’ll be okay,” he murmured.

They didn’t know that. He could be dead right now, or his bear could have gone rogue. Otherwise, why wasn’t he back by now?

She followed Flynn’s huge back across the yard, her heart icy with fear. It was one thing to keep calm when it was her in trouble. She could focus on the situation, strategizing, watching for opportunities to get herself out of it.

It was another thing when it was the man she loved, and she didn’t even know if he was dead or alive.

Suddenly, as they neared the porch steps, pain lanced through her head like her skull had been split with an ax. She stumbled and went to her knees.

Pain. Terror. Rage.

Tank was standing against a tall cliff, his wrists chained so that he was splayed out against the rock wall. Blood dripped down his body from half a dozen long, thin cuts. Some were closing, others looked fresh.

Brother Damien walked up to him, carrying a knife with a blade made of crimson flame. He drew it across Tank’s ribs. Fiery red light emanated from it like a laser beam, opening another cut. Tank snarled at him, but there was no sound. Lissa’s ribs burned like fire, as if the magical blade had pierced her own flesh.

Her bear rose up inside her. Hunt. Kill. Destroy.

Fuck, yeah.

Brother Damien’s voice spoke in her head.

Come to me, Lissa. You belong to me—you always have, you always will. If you come now, I won’t kill him. Come willingly, come alone, and I’ll let him live.

“Lissa? Lissa?” Someone was shaking her. It was Sloan. Flynn was on his knees in front of her, forcing her head up, and Xander was holding her up from behind.

“I’m okay,” she croaked. “I just got a mental psycho-gram, that’s all.”

The others exchanged glances. “Damien’s still communicating with you?” Flynn asked.

Still?

“What happened last night?” she asked.

“Inside,” Flynn said shortly.

They helped her the rest of the way into the house, sat her on the couch and got her some water. Jasmin was curled up on one of the couches, eating a plate of eggs and looking exhausted.

“Brother Damien tried to compel you last night, from somewhere outside the compound,” Flynn told her, standing by the stone fireplace and leaning one elbow on the mantel. “He forced you to Change, and we had to trank you. Tank’s bear went wild and took off to find him.”

“He took to the river to mask his trail. That’s where he lost me,” Jasmin said. “His bear’s not thinking straight—he thinks everyone is trying to keep him away from you, including us. My guess is that he’s trying to eliminate Brother Damien first, as the greatest threat. The best we can hope for is that Tank doesn’t find him.”

“Too late,” Lissa said, the image of Tank being tortured playing over and over in her mind’s eye. “Brother Damien found him.”