by Jane Jamison
“Does your family like what you do?” asked Rusk. He went to his side, too, his gaze penetrating her, searching for an answer.
“I don’t have any family left. My parents died a few years ago.”
“Damn. I’m sorry, baby.”
She hated anyone pitying her. “Thanks.” She mentally shook off the sadness threatening to wipe away all the wonderful sensations she’d been feeling.
“Even if my parents were still alive, they wouldn’t dictate how I live my life. Do you let your mommy and daddy tell you what job you can do?” She liked pushing at Rusk. The flash of amber came to his eyes again. How did anyone’s eyes change like that? Soon enough, she’d ask him about it. For now, she had other questions.
Wash chuckled. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s only trying to find out more about you. Like if you’re involved with anyone.”
“Would I be lying here with you two if I had a man? I’m not the kind of girl who cheats.”
“We figured as much, but it never hurts to ask.”
She saw the sincerity in Wash’s face. “No. I guess it doesn’t. So? Do you guys have girlfriends or wives?”
“Nope,” answered Rusk.
“Good to know.” Whatever the women were doing in Twisted, they were doing it wrong. Letting these two sexy guys walk around free was a sin against all womankind. She’d make sure she ended the mistake. “Go on. Tell me the rest. Wash doesn’t sound like he’s from around here.”
“We live on a ranch just outside Twisted called Crooked Oak.”
“I thought you worked in security. Now you’re saying you’re ranchers.”
“We do both.” Wash skimmed a finger along her skin, giving her a momentary sizzle. “I’m from Detroit, but Rusk invited me down to help out on the ranch. I was as surprised as he was that I liked the whole cowboy thing. As for the other…” His gaze drifted past her to Rusk.
As though he was afraid Wash would say too much, Rusk jumped in. “It’s legally my ranch, but I’m trying to get this hardhead to go partners with me. He does half the work, so it only seems fair that he gets half the ownership. For a city boy, not to mention a boy from the hood, he can work a ranch pretty damn good.”
“A boy from the hood?”
“That’s Rusk’s way of saying I’m part African-American. My father’s white, but my mom’s a beautiful black woman. Dear Old Dad didn’t stick around after their one-night stand. She was poor and struggled to raise me in the roughest part of the city. You know the old story. Single black mom raising her kids alone.”
“Kids? So you have brothers or sisters?”
“Both. I have two brothers and one sister. Rusk has two brothers, one older and one younger.”
She shifted her attention to Rusk. “Do they live in Twisted, too?”
“Harley has his own ranch near Crosston, but Carl’s in the army and stationed in Germany.”
She circled back to the lingering question they’d sidestepped earlier. “You never said. What kind of security do you do?”
Instead of answering, Rusk got to his feet and started picking up his clothes. When he came to where she’d dropped her shirt, he tossed it to her in a careless, almost rude manner.
“Rusk, what’s wrong? Why won’t you tell me what you do?”
“She needs to know, man.”
Something passed between them. Both men were determined, one ready to tell her the truth, the other wanting to stay silent. She tugged her shirt on then marched over, snagged her jeans, and yanked them on.
“Tell me. Rusk?” But Rusk’s mouth had thinned. She confronted Wash. “Just tell me.”
“We’re FBI agents.”
A low growling sound had her whipping around to stare at Rusk. “FBI agents?”
After a long, hard glare, Rusk finally gave in. “We’re agents out of Lubbock. And right now, we’re fucking up by spending our time with you. You’ve got to get out of here, Kendra. For your safety and so we can get our minds back on our job.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Wash tugged on his clothes, determination written in the scowl he gave Rusk. Her gaze dropped to the gun Rusk had strapped to his belt.
“There are two convicts in the area. We’re here to track them and, hopefully, get them to lead us to where they stashed the money they stole.”
She glanced around, suddenly aware of how vulnerable they were. She’d always felt secure in the wilderness, knowing she could handle anything Mother Nature could throw her way. But escaped convicts were a different kind of threat, one she wasn’t used to handling. Yet with Rusk and Wash around, she felt safe. “Are you sure they’re in the area? I haven’t seen anyone but you two.”
“They’re around. Not close, but I can smell them.” As before, Rusk’s eyes were amber-flecked as he gazed toward the horizon.
“What do you mean you can smell them?”
“Just trust me. You need to pack up your things and get back home.”
Her stubborn nature fought against being told what to do. Still, they were right. Other than a few knifes she used for camping and cleaning fish, she was unarmed.
“Please, Kendra, do it for us. We can’t get our minds off you.”
Wash didn’t have to add the rest. If she didn’t stop distracting them from their job, someone could get hurt. She had to give in. For her sake as well as theirs. “All right. I’ll leave as soon as I can get things together.”
“Soon?”
She nodded, touched by Rusk’s worried expression. “Yes. I’ll get started packing up now.”
Relief washed over them, easing their tightened body language and returning their smiles.
“We’ll help you,” offered Wash.
“Nah, we need to check out the other trail first. We can circle around and check on her later.” Rusk scanned the area. “She’ll be okay as long as she hurries. You will hurry, right?”
“Yes, on one condition.”
“Damn it, darlin’. Just do it.”
“What condition, baby?” asked Wash.
“I’ll hurry if you two promise to come and see me in Lubbock as soon as you wind up this search.”
Wash pulled her against him. “Consider it a done deal.”
As much as she didn’t want to, Kendra pulled away. “If you don’t leave, I’ll never get going.”
“Fine. For now. But we’ll be back.” Wash’s Terminator imitation was horrible, earning him a groan from Rusk and a smile from her.
She watched them leave then started picking up her gear. If anyone else had told her to leave, she would’ve resisted even more. But she’d do anything for Wash and Rusk.
She worked, thinking about them as the time passed. As much as she would have loved to stay, she knew they were right. If nothing else, she was interfering with their search, taking their minds off their duty.
Later, once their job was completed, she’d put their minds squarely where they belonged—on her.
The song she’d been humming earlier came back to her. She finished tearing down the tent and then began wrapping everything up into her heavy pack. Carrying so much weight didn’t bother her. She was used to it.
The sound of footsteps behind her had her turning around, eager to see them again. “I was hoping you’d change your mind and come back. What took you so long?”
Two rough-looking men, both clad in dirty white prison uniforms, rushed at her. She sucked in a breath, but before she could scream, the larger of the two men clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled her against him.
“Scream, bitch, and you die.”
Chapter Four
“Kendra?” Rusk’s gut tightened as he surveyed her camp. Most of her equipment was packed and ready to go. The rest of it, however, was still in the same places he’d seen it before.
“Where’d she go? She should’ve been out of here by now.”
From Wash’s worried tone, Rusk knew his friend had the same awful feeling. “Something’s wrong.”
“Damn. I was hoping you
wouldn’t say what I was thinking.”
Rusk picked up a partially filled backpack. “She wouldn’t have left with her things half-done like this.”
Wash, who was a good tracker, slowly walked around the outskirt of the campsite. “Shit.”
Rusk’s gut twisted. He was as good a tracker as his friend, but as a tiger, he was far better. Should he finally tell Wash what he was so he could shift? “What’d you find?”
“Footprints. Two sets of them.”
“Is one hers?” He started toward Wash, hating every second of the short journey.
“Three counting hers.” Wash squatted down and placed his fingertips to the ground. His gaze followed a line of prints headed out of camp.
“Fuck.” If ever Rusk wanted Wash to be wrong, it was now.
“See here?”
Rusk studied the ground at his friend’s feet. “Yeah?”
“See how the prints run together? Trampled so that it’s difficult to see where one leaves off and the other starts?”
“Which means she put up a struggle.” But not much of one. The disturbance around the footprints wasn’t a large area. “They came up behind her and caught her by surprise. She didn’t move around much afterward.”
“The assholes probably had a knife to her throat or a gun to her head.”
I’ll kill them. Once I find them, I’ll take them out of this earth for good.
Rusk’s inner tiger leapt to the surface. Any tiger would’ve done the same, ready to protect its mate. That or revenge her death. A growl rumbled out of him.
“There’s good news.”
Rusk’s growl grew louder as Wash stood up. “What good news?”
Wash’s gaze swept over the camp. “I don’t see her.”
He blinked, the tiger thrown into confusion. And then it hit him. They didn’t see her dead body. “Yeah, but they’ve taken her hostage.”
“Which means we can get her back.” Wash started following the tracks. “Whatever we have to do, she comes first. Fuck the money and fuck them. Agreed?”
Wash wasn’t a weretiger, but he was on the same page. They’d kill to keep her alive, even if they were forced to break protocol. Screw the FBI and its rules.
“Agreed. Lead on.”
“They’ve got to be at the only place we haven’t checked.”
“The washed-out gully.”
“Right.” Wash moved his rifle from his shoulder to his side, ready to use it.
They worked together, moving as quietly yet as quickly as they could through the brush. Without saying so, they went into clearings, hoping no one was watching. They were out in the open and easy targets, but there was no other way.
Wash lost the convicts’ tracks a couple of times but Rusk, shifting enough to use his more sensitive sense of smell without Wash noticing, managed to pick them up again a few yards farther down the trail. They kept going, the sun beating down on them as it moved higher into the sky.
“Shit,” whispered Wash.
“Stop fucking saying that.” Rusk, who’d been keeping a sweeping gaze running to their side and behind them, turned around. What he’d hoped wouldn’t happen had happened. They’d come straight into a shallow creek.
“Maybe they crossed it. We can pick up their trail on the other side.” Even as he said it, he realized it was a long shot. Their scent would be lost.
Wash waded into the water and over to the other side. He checked the area near the edge then eased back into the water. “They’re smarter than I thought they were.”
“Damn.” Rusk checked to the left then to the right. “Which way?”
“There’s no telling until we walk it.”
“I’ll go upstream. You go downstream.”
“Check the shore for prints for about half a mile. If you don’t find anything, come back here.” Wash nodded and started downstream.
“If you find them, stay low until I catch up,” added Rusk.
He hated splitting up, but it was necessary. If they both went in the same direction, and it turned out to be the wrong way, they could be sealing Kendra’s fate. His tiger roared its displeasure and clawed at his insides. If he didn’t let the beast out soon, his insides would feel as though they’d been ripped apart.
He stopped and followed Wash’s progress down the creek. What if he shifted? He could track the escaped convicts easier and faster. If he found them first, he could take them out without his partner’s help. Kendra would see what he was, but she was bound to find out anyway. The same for Wash. If they were going to share her as their woman, his friend would have to accept what he was, too.
Letting them find out without warning them wasn’t what he’d wanted. Plus, if Wash rushed into the scene before Rusk could change, he might shoot him before he had a chance to shift back. Weretigers healed quickly from almost every kind of injury or illness, but they weren’t immortal. Since Wash was a crack shot, he’d no doubt shoot him in the head faster than Rusk could shift into human form.
Rusk trudged on, considering all the options. As it was, if he found the convicts and Kendra first, he’d have no choice but to do whatever he could to save her. If he could save her only as a tiger, and risk getting shot by Wash, then he’d gladly die as long as she came out of it unharmed. Her safety was the priority. Not his.
The farther he walked, the more certain he grew. He wasn’t going to find her. Instinct, both human and tiger told him so. After trekking it to the half-mile location and seeing nothing to make him believe they’d gone that way, he turned around and headed back. His pace picked up, the need to stay quiet no longer a priority. Catching up to Wash was more important.
Once he’d passed where they’d split up, he slowed down, even though every ounce of his body wanted nothing more than to run. What if Wash hadn’t found her, either? What if he had, but he hadn’t gotten there in time?
Losing his intended mate would tear him apart. Losing her when he could’ve possibly saved her would be even worse. He doubted he could go on living.
He moved quietly through the water until, at last, he saw Wash ahead, crouched low behind one of the few bushes running along the bank. Wash put his finger to his lips and motioned for Rusk to get down.
Being in tense situations was not new to him. This time, however, was different. His heart pounded, and his breath was hard in his throat as he crept toward his friend. Once Rusk was at his side, Wash motioned toward the small rise in front of them then pointed up, telling Rusk to stand up only enough to get a glimpse over the top.
He did, taking care to do so slowly. What he saw sent his tiger into a rage. The world spun as amber filled his vision. If Wash hadn’t grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, he was certain his tiger would’ve taken over and gone on the attack.
The escaped convicts had Kendra. She wasn’t tied up, but it was easy to see that if she tried to get away, they’d shoot her. Where or how they’d gotten two handguns was unclear, and at that moment, he didn’t care.
“If we go in, they might hurt her.” Wash’s expression was tight.
Neither one of them had much training as hostage negotiators. Getting any trained personnel to their remote location in time wasn’t an option.
“Our best bet is to wait until night and see if we can get closer. Then maybe we can take them by surprise.” Waiting was the last thing Rusk wanted to do, but it was the best way to keep Kendra safe.
“We need a distraction.”
Rusk leaned his back against the embankment. “Yeah.” The time had come to show his friend what he was. “And I’ve got one. You’re right. We should wait until dark, but I think my idea could work right now almost as good.”
“Yeah? Spit it out,” he whispered.
He searched his friend’s face and knew he should’ve told him sooner. Wash had a right to know. He’d had a right, in fact, to know the day he’d moved onto the ranch.
“Wash, I’m not who—what—you think I am.”
Wash put his back to the slope. �
��What the hell are you talking about?”
“Damn it. I’m trying to tell you.”
“Now?” Wash’s incredulous expression would’ve been humorous at any other time. “You’re talking about yourself right now? What the hell’s with you, man?”
“What I am matters right now. It’s how we’re going to save Kendra.”
Wash glanced toward the top of the slope. “I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t the time for personal reflections.”
“Will you just shut the fuck up and listen?” His revelation wasn’t going the way he’d hoped it would.
“Just tell me.”
He drew in a long breath then let it out. “I’m a shape-shifter. I can change into a white tiger.”
Wash shot him a look that said he was about to call for backup with a crazy-ass partner. “O-kay. And I’m a monkey. What the fuck, man?”
He closed his eyes, his teeth clenched, and then he opened them with a hard glare at Rusk. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but let’s tell fairy tales later. Right now, I need the man who’s my partner. Can you hold it together until we get her to safety? Then we can talk all you want about what kind of animal you’d like to be.”
Rusk had never revealed his inner tiger to a human before, but he’d heard stories about how others had done it. Sometimes the humans were very receptive. Other times, they’d run away, terrified of what they’d seen. Although Wash was a brave man, Rusk couldn’t be sure which reaction he’d get. But time was running out. Kendra couldn’t afford for him to take it slowly.
“There’s more. Remember when Zan wanted to talk to me alone?”
“Why are we talking about this shit right now?”
“Because you have to know. Zan told me something about the convicts.”
Wash glared at him, clearly at the end of his patience. “What?”
“They’re weretigers, too. They can change into white tigers like I can. When you shoot them, shoot them in the head. Otherwise, they’ll be on you before you can aim a second time.”
“Shut the fuck up, man. I don’t have time for this fucking crazy shit.”
“Let me show you.” He grabbed Wash by the shirt. “But you’ve got to promise me. No matter what you see, no matter how afraid you are, you won’t run. You won’t scream or make any sound. And don’t worry. I’m still me even in my tiger body. I won’t hurt you or Kendra.”