Bounty Hunter- Grant

by Kim Fox

  ...and with different people.

  She glanced at the four men sitting around her. DeMarcus, Hardy, Irish, and Caelum. Two bear shifters, a wolf shifter, and a skin shifter. They all had their reasons for being here, just like she did, but she didn’t know what they were.

  Amélie was the newest recruit added to General Hunt’s A-Team, and she hadn’t yet bonded with her new crew. Mostly, because she avoided them as much as she could. She didn’t want to hear their sob stories, just like they didn’t want to hear hers.

  All she cared about was being the best soldier she could be. As long as she was performing well, and following orders, General Hunt would be happy and her family would be safe.

  She followed any order and did whatever she had to do in order to survive. Amélie had learned the hard way what happened when General Hunt’s orders were disobeyed. She had made that fatal mistake once when they were first taken, and she wasn’t going to make it again.

  For the past year and a half, she did General Hunt’s bidding. She went where he said to go, hurt who he said to hurt, stole what he said to steal, and killed who he said to kill.

  Amélie hardened her heart and did what she had to do to keep her family safe. Lately, she didn’t even recognize herself when she looked in the mirror. She wasn’t the same carefree French Canadian girl who left Quebec on vacation with her family only a year and a half ago.

  She was a killer. An assassin. And she was damn good at it too.

  The helicopter banked hard to the right and Amélie’s stomach dropped as she clung onto the handle by the door. She was sitting right beside the open door and it was driving her inner panther crazy. Her black panther was pacing around nervously inside. She hated flying.

  It’s okay, girl. I got you.

  Amélie took a couple of deep breaths as the chopper leveled off and kept going. She spotted a fox sprinting through an open field below and a pang of envy hit her.

  What she would give to be in that animal’s position. Running free without the weight of the world on her shoulders.

  The wolf shifter, Irish, smacked Caelum’s arm as they spotted the sprinting fox as well. “Hey, Amélie,” Irish said with a grin. “What’s a fox’s favorite dance?”

  She shrugged.

  “The foxtrot,” Irish said with a laugh. “Look!”

  He pointed back at the fox and Amélie gasped when she saw it. Tabarnac! It was standing on two legs in the middle of the field, dancing. Its big fluffy tail was swinging back and forth as it hopped from back leg to back leg with his front legs crossed together in front of him. Her mouth dropped as the fox looked up at her and waved.

  The boys burst out laughing and she whipped her head back in, watching as they crouched over, slapping their thighs and howling. All except for Caelum. He was sitting as straight as a board with a blank expression on his face, but that wasn’t even the creepiest part. His eyes were completely white.

  Amélie had never even heard of a skin shifter before she met Caelum. She didn’t even believe him when he told her that he could slide his consciousness into any animal and take it over. Well, she believed it now.

  Caelum’s eyes suddenly flashed back to normal and he started laughing too. “I don’t know how the hell to do the Foxtrot so I did Gangnam Style instead.”

  Amélie turned back to the fox who was back to running across the open field, only this time he looked a little wobbly and confused.

  General Hunt heard the laughing and turned around from where he was sitting next to the pilot in the front. He had a scowl on his face as the laughter quickly dried up.

  “There’s no laughing in my Blackhawk,” he snapped. He yanked down his headset as he glared at them. Amélie and the guys didn’t get any headsets even though their shifter hearing was better than his human hearing and the sound of the chopper hurt like hell. “You should be focused. For your family’s sake.”

  He let that horrible thought sink in and the mood in the helicopter suddenly plummeted. Amélie thought of Elodie and her parents. She hadn’t seen her mother and sister in over a year. Her father in a year and a half.

  She wondered where they were, if they were safe, if they were happy. Mon dieu, stupid girl. No one in this is happy.

  DeMarcus and Hardy had their heads lowered as their bodies tightened. Amélie wondered if they were thinking of their loved ones like she was.

  “This is the most important mission I’ve ever sent you on,” General Hunt barked over the sound of the chopper. “These lion shifters possess something I want very badly. There’s a girl on the ranch who is in possession of a red stick. She usually keeps it in her wavy brown hair.”

  His cruel eyes roamed over each of them, sizing them up. They stopped and locked on Amélie. “This is your chance to really prove yourself, girl.”

  Her breath caught as her muscles tensed. It was never a pleasant experience to be stared down by the General.

  “Listen closely,” he said, turning back to them all. “I want that red stick. Whoever brings it to me gets freedom. For you and your family. Forever.”

  Amélie swallowed hard as her eyes widened. Freedom? For her and her family? This was her chance. The chance she’d been waiting for.

  “We’ll get our Passports back too?” Irish asked with hope in his eyes.

  General Hunt nodded. “Everything.” He looked each of them in the eye and then turned back around. They all stared forward, deep in thought at the tremendous opportunity just presented.

  There was complete silence in the chopper. Just the whomp whomp whomp of everyone’s world spinning.

  “Liberté,” Amélie whispered to herself. Never did a word feel so good rolling off her tongue.

  The thought of freedom was a painful one. The first year in the program, she was desperate for it. She thought about it constantly, always wondering when she could get out, when her family could get out and they could all return to their home in Quebec together. But after a long and lonely year, she began to realize that freedom was nothing but a pipe dream. General Hunt was never going to let her or her family go. She was too valuable for that.

  So, she resigned herself to her new life and submitted to General Hunt’s demands. Instead of focusing on her freedom, she focused on keeping her family safe, and that meant becoming a better soldier.

  But now… he had just flipped her world upside down. Freedom was back on the table. If she could only get the red stick that he wanted, she could be back in Quebec with her family by the end of the summer.

  With a deep breath, she tied her wavy blond hair into a ponytail as her panther paced within. Tu l’as! You’re going to get that stick.

  She glanced down at the tattoo on her wrist and steeled herself. Après moi, le déluge.

  It translated to After me, the flood, and she used it to remind herself that it was all on her shoulders. It was a quote from King Louis XV of France after the disastrous Battle of Rossbach in 1757. Louis knew that after the revolution ended his reign, France would be plunged into chaos.

  Amélie used it to remind herself that after her death, her family would be killed. General Hunt wasn’t about to return them to their home and let them talk about their experiences and blow up his little operation. Once Amélie was of no more value to him, her family would be executed. They were humans and were more trouble to him than they were worth. She had seen firsthand how ruthless he could be.

  Après moi, le déluge. She traced the tattoo with her fingertip as she repeated it over and over again in her head. Everything is on my shoulders. And mine alone. The only one who can look out for my family is me.

  “Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Caelum whispered. “Would he really let us and our families go free?”

  “Probably not,” DeMarcus said. He was hunched over, wringing his dark hands together. “But if there’s even a small chance that he’s going to let my Tristan go…” The polar bear shifter stared at the metal floor of the helicopter, lost in thought. “Then, I’ll kill anyone
who stands in my way.”

  “Including us?” Hardy asked.

  DeMarcus looked at the grizzly bear shifter and sighed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Amélie watched the two huge bear shifters while holding her breath. Not only did she have to worry about the shifters they were raiding, but now she had to worry about her own crew as well. These guys were close and had been working together for years. If they were willing to kill each other over this red stick, then they would eat her alive for it.

  “I need this, guys,” Hardy said with a desperate look on his face. “They have my three sisters and both my parents.”

  “We all have people we love on the line,” Irish said with a hard glare. “We’re all in the same boat.”

  “There’s nothing I’d like more than to see my girlfriend again,” Caelum said, trying to calm everyone down, “but there’s no point in all of us killing each other. We have two choices. We all try to kill each other and one of us goes free while the other four goes to the garbage pit, or one of us goes free and the other four let him.”

  Amélie remained quiet as she watched them.

  “I say we fight it out,” DeMarcus said. “Survival of the fittest.”

  Irish let out a nervous laugh. “Who knew that the largest among us would have argued for that? But as the scrawniest, I would have to disagree.”

  “He’s right,” Caelum said, nodding. “There’s no point in killing each other. I say the first one with their hands on it, gets to keep it. The others can help keep that shifter safe and get that red stick back to the General.”

  Hardy rubbed his thick chin and then the grizzly bear shifter nodded. “I’m in.”

  “Frenchie?” Caelum asked, turning to Amélie. “Oui ou non?”

  “Oui,” she said, nodding.

  They all turned to the polar bear shifter who was squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

  “What do you say, DeMarcus?” Irish asked. “Do we have a deal?”

  He huffed out a breath. “You know I love you guys, and you’re the closest thing to brothers I have in this fucked up situation…”

  He ran his hand into his hair and squeezed it into a fist, nearly ripping a chunk of it out. “And we all have people we love on the line…. But it’s my child. How can I pass up an opportunity to save him?”

  His chin started to quiver and he turned away with watery eyes.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Irish said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If I get the stick, I’ll give it to you. That way your odds just increased a bit. Deal?”

  Amélie watched with a tightness in her stomach as Irish held out his hand. DeMarcus squeezed his trembling mouth shut and nodded as he slapped his hand into his, shaking it. “Thanks, Keegan,” he said as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Thanks, brother.”

  “Hands in the middle,” Caelum said, placing his palm down. “First one who gets it, keeps it.”

  They all nodded in agreement and placed their hands on one another. Amélie was sandwiched between DeMarcus’ big black hand and Hardy’s scratchy one.

  She nodded along, but she had no intention of following it. Hopefully, she would get to the red stick first, her fast black panther would make sure of that, but if not, well, she wasn’t about to let an opportunity for Elodie and her mother to escape pass her by, no matter who she had to betray.

  She had made a vow to protect her family at all costs and that’s exactly what she was going to do.

  Après moi, le déluge. After me, the flood.

  The helicopter started to descend and her panther paced within her, ready for the action that was about to come.

  Chapter Three

  Grant

  Grant woke up to the phone ringing aggressively beside him. He turned and looked at the caller ID with a groan. Unknown Number.

  That was always a collections agent, and he wasn’t about to talk to one of them before he had a coffee. He yanked the cord out of the wall, and then sat up, rubbing his heavy eyes. It was early in the morning, but late enough that he shouldn’t go back to bed.

  He shuffled into the kitchen and started the coffee, then made his way back to the bathroom, shedding his clothes in the hallway along the way.

  “What’s on the agenda today?” he muttered to himself out loud as he turned the shower on and felt the cold water as it warmed up. After breakfast he would call Eddie, the bail bondsman he usually worked with to see if he had any criminals who had skipped town and missed their court appearance, and who needed to be tracked down and brought in. Lately, business was slow and Eddie had nothing to give him, but he still had to call in and see.

  He stepped into the shower and closed his eyes as the hot water ran over his face. This was always his favorite time of day: when he was still half asleep, before the enormity of the worrisome situation he was in hit him like it always did.

  Grant grabbed the soap and started lathering up when he heard a commotion outside. At first, he thought it was just Mack and Bryce messing around. The tough lion shifter liked to play rough when he trained the little cub.

  But then he heard Tempest scream, and he jerked awake. He leapt out of the shower, slipping on the tile as he lunged at the window.

  “Oh, fuck!” he cursed under his breath. They were under attack.

  The first thing he noticed was that Tempest was wearing only lingerie. She had a black lace corset on with a black g-string and the matching lacy stockings. But she wasn’t in the middle of a sexy fashion show, she was fighting for her life.

  Her ass was on the ground and her face was gritted in fury as she held her wand out, freezing the huge grizzly bear shifter from General Hunt’s crew in the air. His enormous body was shaking as he stared down at her with wide eyes.

  A girl with wavy blond hair came sprinting out of nowhere and leapt onto Tempest’s body, trying to go after the wand with a savage ferocity that had Grant gasping in shock.

  Just as Grant was about to turn and run out to help, he saw Ryder come sprinting out of the cabin in a robe and slippers with nothing but his boxer shorts on underneath. He threw a flying slipper kick that landed on the girl’s cheek, knocking her backward with a grunt.

  “Shit,” Grant shouted as he ran through his cabin, past the brewing coffee that smelled so damn good. He exploded out of the front door, wet and naked and pissed off.

  This was the second time these shifters had landed on his property (third if you count the skin shifter taking over Sloth the night before) and he was going to make damn sure they wouldn’t be back.

  He leapt down the stairs and ran barefoot around his house to where they were fighting in the back.

  The huge grizzly bear shifter was now loose from Tempest’s wand and was fighting with Mack. Grant could feel the heavy punches landing from there.

  Logan was out too, and he saw him smash his guitar on the head of the wolf shifter with the Irish tattoo on his neck, exploding the instrument to pieces.

  The Irishman fell to his ass for a second, but then turned to Tempest and tried to move toward her before Logan jumped on his back, taking him down.

  They all seemed to be focused on Tempest, trying to get at her for some reason.

  Ryder and Tempest both had their hands full with the blonde haired woman. She was kicking and scratching and fighting viciously as Ryder ripped her off his mate. Tempest was trying to zap her with the wand, but she was too close to Ryder to get a good shot.

  Grant was running over to help when he was tackled from behind. Big strong arms wrapped around his body, pinning his arms to his ribs as he hit the ground.

  The shifter smelled like polar bear. Grant gritted his teeth and tried to break through the thick black arms, but the man was too strong. As they wrestled on the ground, Grant turned in his arms until they were face to face. He snapped his head forward, smashing his forehead into the shifter’s nose, over and over again until the man’s arms weakened and Grant was able to break free.

  Th
e big guy recovered quickly. “Where’s the red stick?” he grunted as he grabbed Grant’s neck in his big hand. Blood was pouring down his face from the deep gash on the bridge of his nose.

  Grant’s eyes widened, unable to breathe as the man squeezed harder. Grant dug his fingers into his thick wrist and was able to slowly pry his hand off.

  He gasped for air when he finally got free. Both his lungs and mind were able to work again now that he could breathe.

  The red stick.

  That’s what General Hunt was after—Tempest’s magic wand. He had seen the General eyeing it the last time he was here, and now they were all trying to get it.

  The polar bear shifter pushed Grant aside and got to his big feet. With a grunt, he charged at Tempest. She turned and pointed the wand right at him, lifting him off the ground as she let the magic fly.

  Ryder threw the blonde girl about ten yards off him as Mack and the grizzly bear shifter pummeled each other like heavy weights.

  “You want to attack my girl?” Ryder hissed as he ripped off his robe. “Big mistake.”

  The blonde girl watched with narrowed eyes as Ryder’s angry lion burst out of him. She squeezed her hands into fists as the lion charged at her.

  But then suddenly, he skidded to a stop. Ryder’s lion shook his head, reared back, turned, and then stared at Logan.

  Grant watched, hoping it wasn’t what he feared.

  Logan was fighting with the Irishman, exchanging blows when Ryder’s lion attacked. He ran forward and leapt onto his own friend, taking him down with a growl.

  “Ryder,” Logan cried. “What are you—arrghh!” He roared in pain as the lion bit into his shoulder.

  “The skin shifter,” Grant said, squeezing his hands into fists. He must have taken over Ryder’s lion.

  He looked around in a panic and finally spotted him hiding behind the cabin. His body was standing straight up and his eyes were clouded over in a hazy white.

  Luckily, Bryce was just entering the fight nearby. “Bryce!” Grant shouted. “Take him out!”