Mating Fever by Susan Hayes
Tessa
That arrogant, pushy, sexy, bastard had actually thrown her out into the hall! Tessa couldn’t believe it. He’d tossed her under the gate, saved her ass and then ordered her to go. When she got hold of him again, she was going to tear his head off … or fuck him again.
Maybe both.
Every step took her further from her mate, and her stomach was twisting itself into painful knots as the distance between them grew. She didn’t want to leave him behind. He might be a stranger, but he was still her mate. She could still taste his blood on her tongue and her pussy ached from the incredible pounding he’d given it only minutes ago. This was insane. There was no way she was going anywhere without him. He could order her to go until he turned blue in the face, she wasn’t about to be bossed around by anyone, not even her mate. Tessa had dealt with enough of that in her life already.
Please, don’t let him be like my father.
Her sire had been an angry, violent man who abused his mate and their only child at every opportunity. Tessa was only nine when he’d finally gone too far and killed her mother in a drunken rage. He’d shifted to his leopard form, chasing his mate from room to room before finally tearing her apart. The police had called it a freak animal attack, and Tessa had never said anything to counter that belief. In fact, she hadn’t said anything at all for nearly a year.
If Doyle turned out to be anything like her father, she’d leave and never look back. She was stronger than her mother. She’d had to be to survive. Tessa had learned to rely on herself and no one else, at least, not until today. Today Doyle had sacrificed himself for her.
When she reached the top of the stairs, Tessa glanced down them to where the front door still sat ajar. She could be outside in seconds, free and clear. Instead, she turned around and headed back down the hall, stopping at an open doorway. She charged into the room and looked around.
Yes. This just might work.
Large windows lined the outer wall of this room, while statues carved of granite, marble and gleaming woods filling much of the space. Alcoves were built into the walls at regular intervals, each of them containing yet another statue or figurine.
Dropping the bag near the door, Tessa eyed several of the alcoves, settling on one with a four foot high figurine that looked to be made of brass or bronze. She ran to the far side of the room, lined up with her chosen target, and launched herself straight at it. Two strides out she leaped into the air, striking the figurine in the chest and sending it toppling backward into the wall. The plaster crumbled away around the impact point, and she inwardly cheered.
A long time ago one of her mentors had mentioned that many times someone paid huge sums of money to secure doors and windows, but then neglected to do anything to the surrounding walls. In this case, he’d been right. The walls to Christophe’s treasure room were the same as in a typical house, and that meant she could tear through them.
Claws bared, she started ripping through the wall where the figurine had punched through. Dust clogged her nose and filled her mouth, but she ignored it. The shrill tones of the alarm bored into her skull, but she couldn’t do anything about it so she ignored that, too. There wasn’t time to do anything else. Not if she wanted to get Doyle out of here.
As the hole grew bigger she paused to muscle the statue out of her way. It fell to the ground with a crash that made the floor shake, and Tessa briefly wondered if Doyle had heard it.
Doyle Frost. Her mate.
The word had always terrified her, conjuring specters of violence, pain and fear. Not anymore. Here she was, risking her freedom to rescue a man she didn’t know, but was bound to for life. She hoped that whatever gods had arranged this, they were enjoying the show.
Wood splintered beneath her paws, tearing at her skin and slowing down her frantic pace. Desperate, she focused all her thoughts on Doyle, painting an image of him in her mind one detail at a time. Pale blond hair with a hint of curl and ice-blue eyes that gleamed with arrogance and humor. She recalled the heat of his mouth when he kissed her and the feel of his powerful body as he moved over her, their limbs entwined.
“Doyle, I’m coming for you!” She sent the message with all the force she could muster, unsure if it would do any good. She’d never linked with anyone but her parents. After her mother died, Tessa had avoided her kind. She knew almost nothing about shifters, except that they were dangerous and rarely welcomed outsiders like herself.
“Tessa?” Doyle’s voice was in her head a second later, but it was more than just his voice, it was him. His thoughts and feelings, fleeting but real, flashed through her mind.
“I couldn’t leave you behind. I’m tearing through the west wall, but I’m not going to be fast enough. You have to help!”
The roar of his reply assaulted her ears and her mind. Whatever the hell Doyle was in his animal form, he was big.
“Tiger, love. I’m a tiger. And you are the most beautiful leopard I’ve ever seen. Which isn’t going to save you from the spanking you’re going to get for coming back for me. Now, what part of this wall needs to come down?” His thoughts were rife with humor and more than a little annoyance that she hadn’t listened to him, but there wasn’t a whisper of rage or darkness in his mind.
“About ten feet in from the hallway.” Seconds later the wall shook and light began to pour in from the other side. It didn’t take Doyle long to tear down the plaster enough for her to be able to see him in his animal form. At first she thought he was covered in plaster dust, but then she realized that was his true color. Her mate was a white tiger, and a breathtaking one at that. He tore through the wooden frame like it was made of tissue paper, sending debris flying in all directions as he used his much larger frame to break through.
They were going to get out of here. Together.
