Rapture Untamed (Feral Warriors #4)(12)

If she tried to pair either Niall or Ewan with Jag, he'd goad them into attacking him, she had little doubt. Which could well prove fatal. And not to Jag.

Dammit, I am going to have to partner Jag myself.

Olivia sighed. Such was the price of leadership. Though her situation was considerably more complicated than merely dealing with a surly warrior.

Jag was a danger to her in a way he was to no one else. Because he could feel her feed.

Which meant she was going to have to find a way to escape him on a regular basis.

Either that, or they'd end up spending hours a day trying to keep food in her, which would only raise his suspicions as well.

As the others joined them, Tighe met her gaze across the table. "I'd like for you to accompany Delaney and me, Olivia, if that meets with your approval."

Olivia glanced at Jag, unable to help herself. The gleam in his eyes laughed at her. He knew he'd backed her into a corner. That was exactly what he'd meant to do.

"I'll be sending Ewan with you, Tighe. I'll be partnering Jag."

She felt the sharp disapproval of her men, but neither showed disrespect by undermining her position out loud.

Tighe looked at her askance. "Are you sure? He's an ass."

Olivia's surprised gaze slid to Delaney, beside him, and they shared a moment's amusement. Tighe wasn't averse to calling it as he saw it.

"I'm aware of that, Tighe. I can handle him."

She glanced at Jag, daring him to make one more inappropriate comment.

But for once the shifter remained silent, satisfaction written all over his face. He'd gotten just what he wanted.

"Niall will partner with Hawke," Olivia continued, turning her gaze back to Tighe.

The tiger shifter nodded, his eyes holding a mix of concern and respect. And no small amount of speculation. Did he believe her interested in the jaguar? Did any woman have so little self-respect that she willingly sought such crass dominance in a male? It didn't please her that he might think she was such a female.

Then again, what did it matter what anyone thought so long as her reasons were sound? And they were.

Tighe nodded. "All right, then. As soon as we eat, we'll head out."

Jag smiled a thoroughly self-satisfied smile as she took her seat again. "I'll make all your dreams come true, Sugar."

Beside her, Niall growled low in his throat.

"I suspect you're right, Jag," Olivia said coolly. "Since my dreams all involve knives.

And blood."

Several of the Ferals snorted, someone chuckled.

"She's got your number, Cat," Wulfe drawled.

Olivia had expected to draw a glimmer of anger from Jag at the reminder of what had really happened early that morning, but he disappointed her. The smile that lifted his mouth was hard-edged, but genuine.

"Bring it on."

Jag glanced over at Olivia, sitting in the front passenger seat of his Hummer as he drove to Harpers Ferry a short while later. She'd donned a leather jacket over the tank and black pants - not a prissy, tailored little jacket, but one that had clearly seen its share of battle. She might still be the haughty ice princess, but she looked the part of a warrior now.

Goddess, she turned him on.

They'd left the crowded D.C. suburbs quickly enough and now drove along the narrow roads winding through tiny towns and across farms and vineyards.

"Why does a pretty little girl like you want to get her hands dirty fighting draden?

That's what I can't figure out."

Though she barely moved a muscle, he felt her annoyance at thelittle-girl crack. He enjoyed annoying her, enjoyed watching the anger snap in her eyes.

Unfortunately, the crack failed to get a rise out of her.

"What's with the Scottish accent? Your words and phrasing are all American."

Again, she didn't answer, and he figured she'd decided simply to freeze him out. He wasn't sure why he wanted her talking to him, but he did.

"I'm an ass, Olivia. We both know it. But I'd like to know a little more about you."

She cut him a look, assessing. Contemplative. Then slowly turned to the front again. "I was born in Scotland and lived there for several hundred years. But I spent half the nineteenth century and all of the twentieth in the New England enclaves, mostly Boston and New York. Six years ago I was promoted to the rank of team leader and reassigned to the British Guard."

Her voice had a depth to it, a feminine richness that slid over his skin like satin. The brogue added just the right touch of texture and warmth.

"And now you're back."

"I am."

"Why did you join the Guard?" He found himself genuinely interested in her. Not just her body, even though that interest continued to erupt like fireworks in his blood, but in the person. Olivia. She intrigued him more than any woman had in a long, long time.

But again, she was silent so long he didn't think she intended to answer. When she finally did, her words surprised him.

"My mother was killed by draden when I was seven. You might say I have a score to settle."

"If you've been doing this for centuries, I'm thinking that score's been settled a few hundred times over."

"You're wrong, Feral. That score will never be settled so long as draden continue to exist on this Earth."