by Eve Langlais
“I’m back now.”
“For how long?”
Even he knew better than to promise anything. There were times he’d have to leave her. “What if I said I knew someone who might be able to help you? Someone who wouldn’t turn you in or freak out because you are special?”
“Who?”
“A doctor.”
She recoiled, and her wings lifted, peaked and ready for flight. “No doctors.”
“I swear, Dr. Fleetwood would never hurt you.”
“What kind of doctor is he?” she asked, suspiciously.
“Um.” He hemmed.
She arched a brow. “Foot doctor? Maybe a butt one? Something completely useless to my case.”
“Dr. Fleetwood isn’t useless. She’s a vet.”
“A retired army doctor? That might work. They usually have experience amputating limbs and stemming blood flow,” she mused aloud.
“Vet as in veterinarian.”
“You want me to see an animal doctor?” At that, she laughed for the first time since he’d met her, a rich sound that vibrated through his body.
“She’s got experience with your kind of condition.”
“My kind of condition?” Her gaze narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Time to tell her. To let her know she wasn’t alone. He opened his mouth, only to shut it as his phone went off in his pocket.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Which was the angry bumblebee that meant family emergency. Everyone gather at the house.
“Shit, I gotta go. Family needs me for something.”
She glared. “Must be nice to not always be alone.”
“You have me.”
“Only in your spare time,” she grumbled.
“Why, Angel, is this your way of saying you miss me?” He grinned.
Her scowl deepened. “I don’t need you.”
Which they both knew was a lie. “I know you hate hiding, but it’s for your own safety. Which is why I think you should give the doctor a chance.”
“Whatever.” She turned her back on him, her wings drooping as she went back to her hidey-hole.
A hole he’d have to get her out of. She was right. It wasn’t fair. She deserved to have a life that didn’t involve hiding.
And he’d get started on that as soon as he found out what the emergency was.
Turned out it was less emergency and more like surprise.
When Jeb got back to the house, he noticed right away the strange sedan parked outside. And the scent… Stranger danger.
Inside, he found everyone gathered in the living room. Jones family on one side. Man with a brush cut wearing a tan shirt and camo pants across from them.
However, it was what he said that made them all shut up.
All the boys blinked as they digested his words. It was so quiet you could have heard a wallaby fart—which he might add was louder than folks expected. But not as smelly as Uncle Klaus after chili night.
The FUC agent, a veritable croc named Viktor, stared back at them. He didn’t seem at all perturbed by the fact the Joneses outnumbered him.
“I think we heard you wrong,” Da said. “Because I could have sworn you asked the boys to become legal FUC agents.”
Viktor nodded. “I did.”
At that, the silence broke and laughter washed over the room, boisterous chuckles because, if there was one thing the Jones brothers weren’t, it was blokes who worked for legal agencies. Not anymore at any rate. They’d done their stint for the Shifter Special Forces. Discovered they didn’t like taking orders and went their merry way. They still did occasional missions for various agencies, but on their terms. They didn’t need a badge or special agent status to act. The raid on Kole’s lab was proof of that.
“He’s pulling our fuckin’ legs,” snorted Jackson.
“Never knew the leather-skins had a sense of humor,” added Keith.
“This is not a joke.” The FUC agent fixed them with a yellow-eyed stare. “We find ourselves understaffed in this part of the world at the moment. Probably by design, given Kole’s unsanctioned activities. We are in need of qualified young men and women who aren’t afraid of danger or getting their hands dirty.”
“We ain’t afraid of nothing,” boasted Jakob. “But I don’t know if I’d call us qualified. At least not when it comes to doing things legal like.”
“Which is actually what makes you ideal. We need people familiar with the land who can blend in. Shifters like you, with a keen sense of observation.” Viktor’s hand shot out, and he yanked Kevyn close, Jeb’s uncle’s fingers still wrapped around a wallet. Pickpocketing was a specialty of his.
The croc was fast, though.
“And just why should we help you?” Da asked, leaning forward.
“You’ll be paid, for one. FUC agents are well remunerated, and we offer an extensive benefit package.”
“We get paid well already,” Jeremy said. The Jones brothers had long been advocates and players on the Australian black market. Their special powdered blend of various handed-down recipes—curing things like baldness, moon madness, irritable bowel, and more—fetched a pretty penny since they kept the stock low and rare. “And we have all the motorized toys a boy could want.” Plus some that went kaboom.
“We are well aware of your activities,” Viktor replied. “As well as the warrants out for your arrest.” He slapped a thick file on the table.
“Warrants with no name?” teased Jaycon, who was very good at obscuring their trail.
“What if I said I could wipe those charges clean?”
“Tempting, but you’re talking about answering to someone outside the family.” Jakob grimaced. “I don’t know if I want to be answering to some bloke who sits in an office all day.”
“What I think the boys are saying is no.” Da shook his head. “Nice offer but I think we’ll stick to our own thing.”
“Are you sure? Because there is one more thing you might be interested in.” Viktor slid one last envelope onto the table. From within spilled satellite images.
Images of their missing mother, obviously taken over a period of time because there was a young girl with her. A girl who got older as the photos progressed.
“Is that…”
“Your mother and sister?”
“Sister!” Jakob’s squeak covered all their surprise.
“Yes, sister. Half of a set actually. There’s a boy too. I have pictures. Information if you’re interested.” The croc leaned back with a smug smile as they stared a while longer.
It was Jeremy, his expression shocked, who finally mumbled. “We’re in. But with one condition.”
The boys all grinned as Da gave his terms. Viktor agreed to them all then stood to leave.
“Your badges will arrive by special post shortly. Welcome aboard, agents.”
“License to FUC” More than one Jones snickered.
Pausing in the doorway, Viktor fixed Jeb with a yellow stare. “By the way, given our agreement, the agency will overlook the fact you hid one of Kole’s test subjects.”
Jeb’s blood ran cold as his dad replied, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Viktor smiled. “Perhaps you don’t, but your son does. As we speak, Agent Chase and my wife, Renee, are being dispatched to apprehend the fugitive in the woods.”
Jeb couldn’t contain himself. He stepped forward, mouth open, only to have his uncle slap a hand over his mouth and draw him away. “Shut up, you moron.”
He glared at his uncle.
“Don’t give me those baby ’roo eyes. Your girl is safe.”
Jeb gaped. “How did you know about Angel?”
Da snorted. “As if you could keep it secret.”
“Soon as the car pulled onto the property, I sent Kary to get her to safety,” Uncle Kevyn announced.
Which didn’t reassure. Angel wouldn’t trust his uncle to protect her.
She needs me.
And he wasn’t about to break his promise to her.<
br />
9
Nev heard the bright chatter long before anyone came into view.
Had Jeb changed his mind? Had he told someone about her? Either way, didn’t matter. She wasn’t about to get captured, which was why she exited through an escape hatch in the roof of the treehouse and perched herself in the next tree over, a vulture ready to pounce if needed.
Perhaps the voice belonged to the animal doctor Jeb had mentioned.
However, if that were the case, why didn’t he accompany them? And who was the other woman walking beside her?
The women stopped in the clearing by the tree. One, a curvy blonde with her hair in a ponytail wearing the shortest, most disreputable jean shorts ever and a plaid blouse tied off at her midriff. Her companion, a slender redhead, wore attire more appropriate for trekking, finished with solid boots.
“Well, smack me with a carrot and call it foreplay,” exclaimed the blonde. “It’s an honest-to-goodness treehouse. How adorable.” She clapped in apparent delight.
The other woman, with fiery locks much longer than Nev’s, cocked her head. “That’s a house? Why would someone choose to live in a tree?”
Because trees were nice. Duh.
“I think it’s cute. Think she knows we’re here?”
“Probably. You talk a lot.”
And they both apparently knew of Nev’s presence. Who were they?
“Chase says I talk so much on account I don’t get enough exercise, so to work off excess energy, I run my mouth a mile a minute.”
The redhead shook her head. “I think I’d kill you if I lived with you. Viktor doesn’t talk much.”
“That’s because he’s the strong, silent type. Like my honey bear.”
Odd conversation, especially given they made no attempt to hide their presence.
“I wonder why the girl hasn’t come out yet. Yoo hoo,” yodeled the blonde.
“She’s probably scared,” said the other woman.
“Scared of us? That’s silly. Don’t you worry, honey. We won’t hurt you. We just want to talk.”
“Lying isn’t nice,” stated the other. “You know our orders are to bring her in.”
“Which might be a tad difficult now that you’ve told her.” The blonde rolled her eyes.
“We’ll explain it’s for her own good.”
Not Nev’s good. Nev didn’t care what kind of spin they put on it. She wasn’t letting anyone lock her up again.
However, how to escape?
Verm took that moment to slither down from a tree behind the women. While they had an understanding, these newcomers didn’t, thus Verm had no problem wrapping himself around the ankles of the blonde.
She peeked down and said, “Wouldn’t you make a nice purse.”
Purse? While Nev and the snake might have gotten off on the wrong foot, he didn’t deserve skinning. About to slide down the tree to save the snake, she paused because something odd was happening. The curvy blonde appeared to be getting hairier.
And bigger.
With ears.
Great big floppy ones. But it was the fangs that made Nev exclaim, “What the fuck, doc?”
And that was when shit hit the fan. Or, in this case, the bush.
Bodies suddenly appeared through the trees, sporting rifles with red laser sights.
There were shouts, too.
“Get the giant rabbit.”
Except the giant rabbit wouldn’t stay still. Probably a good plan. No one had spotted her yet, but it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed the bird woman in the tree.
Nev scrambled over branches, only to squeak as a head sporting gray hair that matched a beard appeared in front of her.
“There you are! You need to come with me.”
“Oh no, I don’t,” she growled, the darkness pulsing behind her eyes.
Something pricked her in the ass.
Darted.
It was the opening the darkness needed.
The fury inside her breast broke free.
10
Racing along the path, Jeb heard a high-pitched shriek before he saw anything.
Ah shit.
He tore at his shirt but didn’t have time to stop and take off his pants or shoes.
In short order, he’d ripped through his clothes and his ‘roo popped through. Only one thing drove him as he hopped away from the ranch: Angel.
She needed him.
She trusted him.
And she’d think he’d betrayed her when FUC showed up to take her prisoner.
Before he’d even reached the treehouse, he heard the sounds of battle. Many more than the two agents Viktor claimed he’d sent.
He leapt harder and faster, emerging onto a scene of chaos. It took a moment to grasp what he saw.
A giant bunny, with even bigger saber teeth, swung someone in a tan camouflage outfit around and around, using the body to knock down other uniformed men with guns. Not real guns, he noted, but tranquilizers.
An enormous red fox snarled and snapped at a group of men herding her with cattle prods, the electrified tip drawing a yelp.
That yelp was met with a roar at Jeb’s back, but he didn’t have time to turn around.
He dove into the fray, fists flying, his hind quarters bunching as he leapt and twisted, keeping out of reach of the tan-clad folk while knocking them down.
The entire time he kept an eye open for Angel. Not easy given the tree had a bole wider than him and all his brothers. They’d chosen a sturdy one to build in.
He kept trying to make his way to the other side where he could hear the shrieks and screams of men being hurt.
When he finally did round the corner, he saw the wings first, spread wide, the tips of them razor sharp and edged in crimson.
Uncle Kary yelled, “Why didn’t anyone tell me you found a harpy?”
Harpy? This graceful angel was more like a Valkyrie, leaping into the air, spinning and taking out the mini army arrayed against them.
Jeb hopped into the fray, punching left and right, pummeling when he saw his angel fall out of the sky, her body covered in tufts, the drugs overwhelming her.
Immediately, men tried to drag her away.
Uncle Kary punched one of them out. Jeb took care of the others. And there weren’t any to take their place.
The ruckus finally died down, the area littered in groaning bodies. Some still ones, too. Jeb stood over Angel’s sleeping form, fists raised, and while a kanga didn’t usually bare teeth, he did even as the giant killer bunny hopped into view and turned into an attractive naked woman.
The FUC agent approached, hands outstretched. “I’m not your enemy.”
Uncle Kary answered for him. “And yet you led them right to the girl.”
“We don’t want to hurt her,” Miranda said, having swapped out of her bunny shape. “But we can’t let the humans see her, either. Let her come with us. We’ll keep her safe.”
Jeb switched back to human so he could bark, “Safe? You want to lock her in a cage. She doesn’t deserve it. She didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”
“No, she didn’t, and yet even you have to see we can’t let her run around with those wings. Sorry.” Miranda shrugged.
“I know we can’t let anyone see her.” And Nev knew, too. However, if he let her go, she’d never forgive him. “Give me a chance to try something.”
Miranda arched a brow. “You think you can fix this?”
“Not me. But I know someone who might be able to.”
The red fox, who’d turned into a lovely woman, draped herself around the knobby croc that had joined the fight and added her two cents. “Oh, give the man a chance. The same way you all gave me a chance after what Mastermind did.”
“You’re different, Renee.” Miranda turned her gaze. “For one thing, you can hide what you are.”
“What if I could hide her, too?” Jeb said.
“Hide those wings?” Miranda shook her head. “We both know you can’t, and the council is expecting us to bring
her in.”
“I can’t let you do that. She’s a person. A victim.” An angel. “She deserves a chance.”
Miranda pursed her lips. “Maybe our target fled before we got here.”
The croc snapped its jaw.
Renee tapped it on the snout. “Don’t you dare grumble. It’s the right thing to do.”
Miranda wagged a finger. “You’re getting your chance, hoppy man. I’ll see what I can do about stalling the search for her. But you better find a solution to her wings. You know the council won’t hesitate to terminate her if they think she’s a danger.”
“I’ll fix this.”
Somehow.
11
The cushioning fabric under her cheek vibrated, and yet Nev was comforted by the scent. The folded jacket exuded a musky aroma she associated with Jeb. It also smelled like diesel.
Or did that come from the tarp draped over her head?
Panic momentarily clawed at her, and she took some heaving breaths before freaking out.
The good news: she was alive, seemed to be unharmed, and was not tied down. The bad news? Judging by the jostling and engine noise, she was on the move in the back of a truck.
Whose truck? Last she recalled, she was under attack. Her body a pincushion for tufted missiles. Drugged!
Hello, familiar cottony mouth and cloudy head. It explained the hallucinations of a giant bunny, a car-sized fox, and a kangaroo with Jeb’s eyes.
Drugs were never a good thing. Especially the kind that knocked you out. It meant that, despite the coat pillowing her cheek, she was probably in deep shit.
It was from one of her drugged episodes she woke to wings.
Currently she didn’t appear to have any extra body parts, but that could change. Kidnapping never turned out well for women.
If this were an abduction, then the first thing she needed to do was find a way to escape, which might prove easier than expected given they’d foolishly just laid her in the back of the truck. Probably thought she’d sleep longer. Little did they know the experiments on her in the institute made her resistant to many narcotics and improved her recovery time.
She sat up, flinging back the tarp, sucking deep lungfuls of air, free of the dust they left in their wake. Despite the flying scenery, she was ready to throw herself out and hope she could glide to safety rather than crash and deal with road burn. A good, if possibly painful, plan that she held off implementing when she noted the back of the driver’s head.