Nature of the B*E*A*S*T*

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  Champagne Books

  www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright ©2007 by Rebecca Goings

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Champagne Books Presents

  Nature Of The

  B*E*A*S*T*

  By

  Rebecca Goings

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  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Champagne Books www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright © 2007 by Rebecca Goings

  ISBN 1897261292

  December 2007

  Cover Art © Chris Butts

  Produced in Canada

  Champagne Books

  #35069-4604 37 ST SW

  Calgary, AB T3E 7C7

  Canada

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to J. Ellen Smith, owner and publisher of Champagne Books. She believed in this series when it was nothing more than an idea, and knew it would be a rousing success someday. If it weren't for her words of encouragement, I might never have pursued this strange storyline of genetically engineered shifters. Ellen—Noah, Rogan, and Wade thank you.

  One

  Somewhere in the Texas desert

  "Shit, shit, shit!"

  Wade McAllister glanced frantically in the rearview mirror of his banged-up black Hummer for the thousandth time yet saw nothing behind him, not even the faintest hint of pursuing headlights. His insides roiled and he knew this had to be one of the worst goddamn ideas he'd ever had. Hell, he didn't even have a plan. Laughing bitterly, he drove like a madman through the inky black of the Texas desert.

  Sand and sagebrush whizzed past the windows, and Wade realized he had no friggin’ clue where he was. No other cars on the highway. Christ, was he even on a highway?

  Another shuffling noise came from the rear of the vehicle which had no back seats, just an empty, semi-carpeted truck bed where he'd slept the entire trip to Texas from Oregon. Wade didn't spare a glance at the woman bound and gagged back there, even when she tried her hardest to scream.

  "Jesus Christ, what am I doing?” he hissed to himself as he ran his fingers through his sandy-colored hair. He couldn't help but think about all the ways he was going to be killed. And he wasn't even worried about B*E*A*S*T*. If Noah and Rogan ever caught up to him—much less found out what he'd done—no doubt they'd beat him senseless before tearing him limb from limb.

  The woman yelled again, unable to move because she was hog-tied with thick rope and duct tape. Her scent permeated the Hummer, and Wade almost rolled down one of the windows for some fresh air. She smelled strongly of fear and anger along with a lighter scent; a feminine one. Some kind of flowery perfume.

  What the hell was he doing? He didn't have time to think of her heady scent right now. He'd just abducted Senator Clive Covington's daughter, for Christ's sake!

  Another insane, desperate chuckle rose from deep within him. He'd been casing Covington for a week now, and was surprised to find the man had a daughter. It hadn't taken much for Wade to put two and two together and realize that if he had some collateral with the old man, he might be able to confront him with the upper hand for once.

  But for whatever reason only Covington knew, he didn't want Wade harmed. That juicy tidbit of information had been revealed through Sean Ross, the Kodiak grizzly Covington had sent to kill Rogan Wolfe. But why? What was so damned important about Wade McAllister? More importantly, if Clive didn't want him killed, then he must know who Wade was—who he truly was.

  The assholes at B*E*A*S*T* had abducted men from the United States military for their programs, erasing their memories and turning them into monsters far beyond the horrors of Hollywood. At first, Wade had thought the agency's only compound was the one Rogan and Noah had destroyed in Colorado. But it had soon been revealed through Dr. Lucian Carver, the scientist who'd been captured by Noah, that there was a compound for every branch of the military.

  That knowledge had floored all of them, prompting Mac, Jet, and Trevor to go looking for another compound in the wilds of Oregon. And they had been successful—finding a female shifter, no less. But more compounds around the country meant the B*E*A*S*T* agency was bigger than any of the shifters had first imagined.

  Noah and Rogan hadn't wanted to go after Covington directly, but Wade knew it was the only way to stop the agency. His being a U.S. Senator didn't amount to a hill of shit in Wade's estimation.

  The woman in the back of the truck had stopped yelling and had now resorted to tears. Wade sighed and cursed foully. He tried to tell himself he was doing the right thing. He'd known he wouldn't be able to get to the man who'd funded the B*E*A*S*T* agency on his good looks alone, and abducting Keira Covington had seemed a rational decision a few hours ago.

  Wade had been watching her for the past few days, waiting for the right time to present itself to whisk her away. When she'd visited her boyfriend, an anchor for the local Channel 6 news, Wade knew his time had come. The parking lot of the station had a couple of burned out lights, and the guard on duty was an older gentleman with a shock of white hair. It was too perfect.

  When she'd exited the building, Wade had pounced, using one of the tranquilizer darts from the compartments in the Hummer to make her cooperative. Once she was limp in his arms, he'd stuffed her into the back, hog-tied her, and now here he was, somewhere in the middle of friggin’ Texas with a hysterical woman in the back of his truck. She'd awakened from the tranquilizer not too long before, and all she'd done since was scream her little heart out. From the sound of her crying now, she must have realized her screams did nothing but make her throat raw.

  A muscle in Wade's jaw ticked. He'd never done a woman any harm—or at least not that he knew of. Hearing her soft cries, not to mention smelling her pungent scent, reached into his heart with icy fingers. Damn her for making him think twice about his actions!

  This was Keira Covington. She wasn't merely a woman. She was the goddamn enemy! Anyone who could condone what that wily old bastard had done to the men in the B*E*A*S*T* compound deserved everything they had coming to them. Even if they were of the female persuasion.

  But that didn't stop Wade's belly from threatening to revolt right there in the truck. The urge to shift and rip something apart suddenly reared its head, and he had to swallow hard or risk choking on it. Gripping the steering wheel until his hands went white, he concentrated for all he was worth on the yellow lines in the road.

  Get a grip, man, he thought to himself. You'll be okay. Everything will be okay.

  Without thinking, Wade gazed into the rearview mirror, right into the bright green eyes of his captive. Her glowing red hair was magnificent, almost like molten lava as it poured over her shoulder in disarray. She was silently pleading with him to have mercy, the terror on her face unmistakable. He damned himself to hell.

  Every instinct he had was telling him this wa
s wrong. Second thoughts plagued him as the miles rolled by, and he couldn't help but glance in the mirror every now and again. The woman was beautiful; he'd give her that. But he couldn't let her beauty cloud his judgment—no matter how vivid his memory was of touching her soft, ivory skin.

  Licking his lips, he said, “Don't worry, I won't hurt you if you cooperate with me. Understand?"

  Keira stared at him for a moment, then she nodded frantically, making her red curls bob up and down.

  "It's nothing against you,” he murmured, glancing at her once more. “I've got a ... bone to pick with your father."

  Another scent wafted to him in the truck: surprise. How on God's green Earth could the woman be surprised at that? With all that the bastard had done? Wade shivered just remembering the time he'd spent drugged in a small cell at the compound. He could remember bits and pieces—fragments—of his life before, and that had been enough to get himself drugged, putting him on the schedule for reprogramming. Apparently, B*E*A*S*T* liked their experiments not to remember a goddamn thing.

  But what he could remember had been trivial at best. The inside of a small apartment. Driving a car down some country road. Was it really worth the painful procedure of brainwashing? Wade shuddered at the thought. He'd been able to suppress his memories for the few short weeks he'd been free of the agency. Now, however, they seemed to be bubbling back up to the surface. Needles and pain. So much hellish pain.

  Wade had to choke back a sob. No doubt the woman thought he was some kind of insane whack-job. Christ, maybe he was.

  "Shit!” he growled, his eyes flashing. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, making him shake violently. Now there was no room for error. For all intents and purposes, Wade McAllister had single-handedly declared war on Clive Covington.

  Two

  Keira squeezed her eyes shut as her entire body trembled. An intense fear gripped her heart and she had no clue what to do. She'd been kidnapped by a man who scared her half to death and her cheeks were wet from tears. Her arms and legs burned from being so long in one position. The ropes cut into her skin and she wouldn't be surprised if they were covered in blood.

  Once again the man glanced at her in the mirror and his eyes flashed a golden color. A bolt of terror raced down her spine. She had to be seeing things—that was the only explanation. No one's eyes could do that. Keira swallowed hard.

  Who was he and why did he have a vendetta against her father? Clive Covington was a U.S. senator, well-liked and popular within the community. There might be some people who disagreed with his politics, but would they go to great lengths to kidnap his daughter for some petty revenge?

  Keira sniffled as she shifted on the floor, trying to get as comfortable as she could. She was now completely at the mercy of this man, who seemed as if he regretted his decision to abduct her.

  "I'm sorry,” he said, his deep voice penetrating the air. Keira jumped at the sound of it. “But I can't have you running away. Not now."

  Closing her eyes once again, she squeezed more tears into her hair.

  "If you promise not to scream, I'll take the tape off your mouth."

  She sucked in her breath. Was he serious? The thought of no longer being gagged made her heart leap inside of her. She nodded furiously. Maybe he'd unbind her arms and legs as well.

  The man pulled the truck to the side of the road and put it in park. Leaving the motor running, he climbed out and walked around to the back doors. They opened with a creak and he reached for her. Instinctively, she shied away from his large hands.

  "I won't hurt you."

  His voice was soft and he seemed sincere. He was a handsome man with hazel-colored eyes and sandy hair, perhaps a few years older than she was. But looking into his face, she couldn't help the nagging feeling she knew him from somewhere. Wracking her brain, she couldn't remember.

  When he bit his lip nervously, Keira decided to trust him—at least for now. He still scared the crap out of her. No matter how harmless he appeared, she needed to be on her guard. Monsters often came in sheep's clothing. Even exceptionally handsome monsters.

  Her body still trembled, but she allowed him to slowly peel the duct tape back, releasing her lips. She licked them then drew in a deep breath.

  Deciding to get on his good side, she said, “Thank you."

  He looked shocked. Did he expect hostility? There was no way in hell she'd rock the boat now, not when he had her all alone in some remote part of the countryside. If he snapped, he could do any damn thing he wanted and there would be no one to stop him.

  "You're ... welcome,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. The action brought his snug, black T-shirt tighter against his chest and Keira damned herself for noticing.

  He sighed again and reached into his back pocket. When he pulled out a wicked-looking folding knife, Keira's eyes went wide. She squealed and tried to push herself away from him, further into the Hummer.

  "Easy, Keira,” he said, holding his hands up as if to show her he wouldn't harm her. “I'm not going to cut you. I'm going to cut that rope.” He nodded with his chin, indicating the rope binding her wrists to her ankles behind her back.

  Hearing him say her name jarred her for a moment, and her feelings of familiarity returned. “Do ... do I know you?” she asked.

  The man swallowed hard and a look of confusion came over his face. “I don't know,” he said. “Why don't you tell me?"

  Keira arched her brow as she scooted closer to him cautiously. He made no move to reach for her which bolstered her courage. “I've seen you before, but I don't know your name."

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Was he disappointed?

  "They call me Wade McAllister."

  He bent over her, grabbing onto her right shoulder while leaning around her left shoulder with the knife. His body heat warmed her and she couldn't help but smell his clean, masculine scent. He didn't wear cologne, but he smelled good, like faint soap.

  "Who's they?” she asked, unwittingly laying her head on his shoulder, allowing him to lean closer.

  The sound of the knife cutting through the rope was loud in the still of the night. The man pulled back and stared at her, his face mere inches from her own. Another stab of fear entered her heart at his hardened expression, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.

  "Don't play that game with me, lady,” he said, his words suddenly full of venom. “You know damn well who took my memory."

  Keira pulled back with a gasp. “Your memory? What are you talking about?"

  A bitter chuckle escaped him as he leaned over her again, cutting the bonds on her wrists. But instead of letting her hands go, he pulled them around the front of her body and held them together with one of his big hands. She didn't bother fighting him. She knew he would win any battle of strength between them, judging by the size of his arms alone.

  Wade opened one of the compartments lining the walls of the Hummer and yanked out another length of rope. Keira watched as he bound her wrists in front of her this time.

  As soon as he was done, he placed both his fists on the back bumper, leaning into the truck. “Do you think I'm a fool?” he whispered.

  His intensity made her shiver.

  "N—no, of course not,” she said, trembling. Don't piss him off, Keira. Keep him talking.

  "Then don't play dumb. I've had my fair share of deception and lies. I don't need any more from you."

  "I ... I'm not lying to you."

  His lips pursed while his eyes narrowed, and he gazed at her as if she were some kind of delicacy we was about to devour.

  "Look, you ... you said you've got a vendetta against my father. I don't know what that is, but I'm sure we can work this all out. You ... you don't want kidnapping on your head. If you take me back, I won't press charges."

  "You don't get it, do you?” he asked, his voice still low. “I have nothing to lose. Whoever I was in my life before, that man is dead. According to the United States government, I don't exist. I can do whateve
r I damn well please."

  Keira's eyes widened at his words. “What are you talking about?"

  Wade stared hard at her for a moment before tossing his head back, filling the night with his laughter.

  "Oh, you're good."

  Whatever he thought her father had done, it was obvious he thought she was in on it, too. She had to set him straight.

  "Look, Mr. McAllister, I really have no idea what you're talking about. What do you mean your life before? And where does my father come in to all of this?"

  Shaking his head, Wade kicked at the dirt on the side of the road. “If you keep this up, lady, I'm gonna put that tape back on your pretty mouth."

  Keira snapped her mouth shut and glanced away, her cheeks blushing hotly. She didn't know what was more disturbing, the thought of the tape gagging her once again, or the fact he'd called her mouth pretty.

  As the silence stretched on, Wade sat on the back bumper, making the truck bounce slightly.

  "Fine, you want to play coy? Let's play coy, shall we? I used to have a life—before I was taken by your father's agency. They tortured me and wiped my memory. I have no idea who I used to be, and the only memories I have are of being with the B*E*A*S*T* agency for the past two years. Your father funded my transformation, and I only want to give him what he's so graciously given me. Ring a bell now?"

  Keira shook her head, her thoughts spinning in confusion.

  "My father's agency? He doesn't have an agency. He's a senator."

  "I know what he is!” Wade suddenly shouted, making her jump. “The man is a goddamn monster, and I mean to rid the world of him. Abducting you was merely the icing on the cake."

  Keira's heart was in her throat. “Wade,” she began, clearing her throat. He glanced sharply at her. She could see pain and anger in his eyes. “Whatever you think my father has done, I assure you, I don't know anything. Please believe me."

  Taking a chance, she placed her bound hands on his thigh in an attempt to gain his trust. His eyes flashed and her heart skipped a beat.