Goings - 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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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

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 himmuch less found out what he'd doneno 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 waswho 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 successfulfinding 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 harmor 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.

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