Psy & Changelings 05 - Hostage to Pleasure

were going to be able to pinpoint which tree he was in, very soon.
    He put his lips to Ashaya’s ear. “Regrouping. Few minutes’ grace.”
    She nodded. “Ten minutes.” It was more the shape of her lips than sound.
    He gritted his teeth, knowing he wasn’t fighting amateurs. These people wanted Ashaya, and they clearly wanted her alive. If they rushed the tree, he’d certainly manage to kill most of them. But not all.
    Not all.

CHAPTER 51
    Stop worrying, sweetheart. Hell, yeah, I’d like to shift, but I stopped wishing for the impossible a long time ago. Far as I’m concerned, being latent gives me an edge—I’m the most experienced weapons handler in either pack. Even that assassin you call a mate can’t outshoot me.
     
—Excerpt from instant-message conversation between Dorian Christensen and Brenna Kincaid, three months ago
     
 
Making another quick decision, Dorian swung the rifle over his head and onto his back and pointed upward. Ashaya’s eyes went wide, but to her credit, she gave him Keenan and began to climb, displaying the lithe skill that had saved her life from the lynx all those weeks ago. “Dorian?” A boyish whisper against his ear.
    “Yeah?” He followed Ashaya, Keenan clinging to him like a monkey, not a tear in sight. Dorian was fucking proud of the boy’s courage.
    “I want a gun.”
    He winced, wondering what Ashaya would say to this new development. She’d been “rather surprised” to wake up the other day and find Keenan trying to copy Dorian as he went through his martial arts workout—the memory of those small legs kicking determinedly was almost enough to make Dorian smile even now. “We’ll talk about it later.”
    Seemingly satisfied with that, Keenan kept his silence as they continued the climb. When Ashaya took a seat on a branch a couple of meters from their previous position, he nodded. Handing her Keenan, he jumped up beside her, shifting so his back formed a protective wall. “Makes it harder for them to rush us.” From here, he could pick them off one by one. Even the best human climber wasn’t leopard-fast.
    He could hear Ashaya’s heart thudding behind him, the scent of her sweat fresh and clean. She leaned onto his back and, to his surprise, pressed a kiss to his nape, tucking the spare gun into the waistband of his jeans at the same time. “After this is over,” she whispered, her confidence in him a vibrant beat in his heart, “I’ll lie in the sun for you.” Grinning despite the danger, he leaped lightly onto the branch below theirs and began hunting again. This time, he moved after each shot, scattering their attackers’ defenses.
    The scent of blood and flesh drifted up. Then the gunshots started. Every time he made a hit, that position was riddled seconds later. They were reacting quicker and, with the fifth kill, he was nicked in the arm. Swearing lightly, he told himself to move faster. It would be at least seven more minutes until backup arrived.
    He checked his ammo again and realized he’d have to stop shooting if he wanted to keep something in reserve. Teeth bared, he crawled along the branches until he was in prime position to protect Ashaya and Keenan. The hunters began moving faster the instant they realized he wasn’t picking them off anymore. Probably thought he was down.
    The first ones who attempted to climb the tree found their faces shot off. The others drew back and he heard low-voiced conversation. Not low enough. A mistake at last.
    “Can’t have much more ammo.”
    “Who’s gonna volunteer to find out?”
    “Shoot into the tree.”
    “And kill the target? Genius.”
    “Why the fuck didn’t anyone know we were dealing with a sniper? He’s supposed be fighting with claws and teeth.”
    “Shut up, all of you.” A furious voice. “Maintain silence. He’s a cat.”
    The men obeyed. Resisting the urge to swear, Dorian spread out his senses again and waited for their next move. Several shots were fired into the trunk.
    “We want Ashaya Aleine alive,” a male voice said. “That’s all. We don’t want to harm her.”
    Then you fucking shouldn’t have shot at her and our child. Dorian used the speaker’s voice to get a lock on his position without the benefit of a sightline.
    “Give her to us and we’ll let you—”
    The voice cut off as Dorian shot through the tree and hit his target. The sound of bullet meeting flesh was close. They’d surrounded the tree.
    “Fuck this,” someone said.