Of course they did. Now she had to go out and hunt a shifter who had probably been a good man at one time. “Just one, huh?” Taking a deep breath, she returned to the sofa, trying so hard not to think of Jordan pressing her into the soft leather.
Baye leaned against the door. Lance hovered near the couch.
What was their problem? She frowned.
Baye’s eyes darkened further. “Open the file.”
A tickle set up at the base of her spine. Her lungs compressed. Something whispered she should run. Shrugging her shoulders, she flipped open the file.
Jordan Pride’s picture stared back at her.
Chapter 2
Jordan jogged through the alley, cutting a hard right to end up at his hotel. Cobbled stones protested with each beat of his boots. The city of New Orleans didn’t agree with him. Too hot, too muggy, too many damn humans. Their merriment wandered on the breeze—carefree and joyful at the constant parade and fun. He’d lived his life alone, and the ever present comraderie in the southern town only made him feel more so.
The breadth of magic mixed with the humid air, coating his skin. He didn’t like humidity or water, either. Most cats didn’t—which is exactly why he’d assigned Katie to the area. If she found werewolves, they wouldn’t be former members of her clan.
Maybe when he turned completely into a werewolf, he’d jump right into the sea. Though he’d be dead before that happened.
What the hell had he been thinking? Touching her? Kissing her? Sure, he’d noticed her as a woman years ago. Had known without a doubt, the pretty shifter deserved better than him. Had also known such knowledge wouldn’t have stopped him from taking her. Who knew? Maybe they would’ve stood some kind of chance.
But not now, not with the beast inside him calling the shots.
Scaling the rickety fire escape to the third floor of his antiquated hotel, he shoved open his window and jumped inside. No need to go through the lobby. Stealth had always been his friend.
A rust-colored shag carpet muffled his steps as he strode past the bed to the scarred table to boot up his laptop. At one time, before war had intruded, he’d been able to afford the best. But all funds had been earmarked for war, safety, and more hospitals. The last ten years had been the most difficult his people had ever faced, considering so many had been lost to the virus. Besides, right at the moment, he needed solitude and peace, and the dive provided quiet.
Connlan Kayrs took shape, his angled face filling the screen. “How did it go?”
“Not good.” Jordan dropped into a ripped leather chair the color of a yellow cake Katie had once burned for his birthday. “Exactly what I expected, actually.”
Conn’s metallic green eyes narrowed. He rubbed his short hair. The ends had recently been singed off when he tried to harness his mate’s magic without permission. Moira was an incredibly powerful witch and had apparently set a booby trap, though if anyone tried to ask Conn about it, he hit them in the face. The vampire frowned. “When will Katie be arriving at headquarters?”
“Tomorrow.” Jordan scratched his chin. Tired. He was so damn tired. “We both will.”
“Does she know?”
“No. Well ... maybe. Baye was on his way with a file. I’m assuming my face is in it.” Jordan had handpicked the assassin to cover Katie’s back. Though the enforcer’s services were no longer needed. Katie would soon be underground.
Conn leaned forward. “You should’ve told her yourself.”
“Probably.” He’d chickened out. Well ... not exactly true. His mouth had been too busy on her breast to actually talk. “Whatever happens, you’ll keep her safe and away from feline headquarters until Noah is secure as the new leader. Keep her away from me, too.” The people Jordan trusted in this life were few. Connlan Kayrs sat atop the list.
“I will.” Two words—yet an absolute vow from the soldier. “Though I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You wouldn’t hurt Kate.”
Jordan wasn’t sure. “The virus ... I’ve changed already.”
Conn rolled his eyes. “The virus has nothing to do with it. When did you know?”
Irritation had Jordan clenching his hands. “Know what?”
“That she was yours.”
Heat slid down his spine. “Never.”
“Bullshit.” Conn flipped a knife in his hand, the silver coming in view and back out. “When did you turn around and notice she was all grown up?”
Damn his friend. They knew each other too well. “When the Kurjans took her and Talen helped me get her back.” Jordan would never forget the sight of her in that hospital bed, so pale, so fragile. “It was like a kick to the gut.” Thank the fates she’d recovered perfectly. That time. Before she’d been infected by the virus.
“Yeah,” Conn said softly. “You sent her away, Jordan. To fight werewolves.”
He’d never been able to tell her no. “She needed to go. To grow and learn ... not be confused by—”
“By her feelings for you.” Conn tucked the knife away. “Been there, done that. It’s been ten years for you. I’m thinking the woman has had long enough to decide if she has a childhood crush or something more.”
“What’s the point?” Jordan shook his head. Yeah, the woman had kissed him like it was more—definitely more. But he’d spent over three decades protecting her, and he couldn’t stop now that he was dying. “She’s in every thought—I’ll take her, Conn. I can feel it.” He’d kill himself before he hurt Katie. He sighed. “A werewolf wouldn’t fight the attraction.”
“Neither should you.”
God spare him from happily mated vampires. “I appreciate you wanting to make my last days on earth full of love and sex, but get a grip.” He’d let Katie go a decade ago to find herself ... to learn to deal with her illness on her own terms. To become strong enough to deal with him. Too bad it couldn’t happen now.
Fate truly was a bitch.
Conn raised an eyebrow. Anger flashed across his cheeks, fury had his lips going white. “Did you just tell me to get a grip?”
“Yes.” His friend had been pissed since the blood tests came back on Jordan. “Let it go—there’s nothing we can do.”
Silver shot through the green of Conn’s eyes. Vampires had a secondary eye color that came through during emotional times. “Stop fucking punishing yourself for what we did.”
Jordan didn’t need this shit. “I’m not punishing myself. The virus came from arrows shot by the Kurjans—and has nothing to do with my past.”
Conn shook his head. “I know you.”
Unfortunately, the vampire did know him. “So?”
“So, this lone wolf bullshit has gone on long enough. You deserve to lead and you’re an excellent leader. Nobody says you have to do it all alone.”
“Did you just call me a wolf?” Jordan forced a smile. What was it with happy vampires? They instantly wanted everyone else to be happy, too. Then if you didn’t go along, they tried to beat you up. Vampires were an odd species.
Conn rolled his eyes. “We’ll deal with your personal problems later. For now, I’m not giving up on curing you of the virus.” He leaned forward. “Maggie has been here for the last month, and I think Kane is close to some sort of antiviral.”
Kane was Conn’s older brother and the smartest person on the planet. Even so, with less than a week until Jordan turned into a monster, there wasn’t time for close. “Sounds good. Tell Kane he can experiment on me all he wants during the day.” Nighttime, well, nothing kept him from the moon.
“Your acceptance of this is pissing me off.” Conn’s jaw hardened.
Jordan shrugged. “You can be as angry as you want, so long as you keep your word.” They’d fought together during the last war three hundred years ago. Both assassins, close enough to be brothers. Which meant Conn was the only person he trusted to end this right. “When the time comes, you need to kill me.”
Conn went still. Even across the country, his tension emanated. His eyes flashed g
reen to vampire silver. “If the time comes ... I will.”
Chapter 3
Katie tugged leather gloves on her hands, her boots clomping on the docks of the marina. Jordan had kissed her. Finally kissed her. Then he’d apologized. Fucking apologized.
Salt coated her skin, breezing in on the muggy wind from pounding waves of Lake Pontchartrain. Darn saltwater lake. After spending hours on the phone until the half moon rose, the truth remained the same. Jordan had been infected with the virus. “The Kayrs lab has a possible cure generated from Maggie’s blood.” Okay, not exactly what Emma, the Realm queen and chief geneticist, had said, but close enough.
Baye twirled a wicked knife in his hand, his gaze alert on the covered docks toward the south end of the lake. “If Jordan believed he’d be cured, he wouldn’t have set my brother up to lead and called me home.”
“I know.” But Jordan was a good leader and a true planner. He’d cover every contingency. “This is the first time the lab has blood tests from a male shifter just infected. That has to be good.” Usually the shifter didn’t know until the first full moon ... when he changed into a werewolf. Forever. At least humans got three full moons until turning into beasts for life.
Lance nodded, his gun at ready. “They’ll find a cure in time—they have nearly five nights until the full moon. I mean, counting tonight. So four nights.” The tiger had joined the New Orleans squad a year ago, his tracking abilities almost as good as Katie’s. He’d lost the two other members of his old squad in a werewolf raid and every once in a while suffered panic attacks. Post-traumatic stress disorder didn’t only affect humans, unfortunately. But he was a good fighter, and his intense protection of his current squad made sense. He snarled. “Pride is strong. Don’t worry.”
Katie gave him a grateful smile. Lance was always on her side. He topped out at six feet, long and lean, dangerously quick. Angular tiger features made up his sharp face, his mouth generous with a smile—usually. Better yet, Lance treated her as an adult, while Baye sometimes still saw the child she used to be.
Baye halted, sniffing the air. Shaking his head, he resumed the hunt. “Leave it to Jordan to feel a little weird and instantly order a blood test. Through arrows tipped with the virus. We didn’t see that one coming.”
“No. To be honest, I figured at some point the bug would go airborne.” The idea of the world being infected made her head ache. Only humans, vampires, and demons would survive. And maybe witches. Nobody knew if witches could be infected. Trials attempted in test tubes led to uncertain and odd results.
“All we need is an airborne killer.” Lance cracked his knuckles, his body staying tense. His lips turned down, and a dark frown settled between his brows.
Katie glanced at his tight features. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
This was more than Jordan’s news, considering Lance and the lion leader barely knew each other. Katie shoved hair out of her eyes. “Come on. What’s wrong? Is it Linda?” He’d been extremely cranky the last week after his girlfriend dumped him.
“I don’t want to talk about Linda.” He surveyed the boats on either side of the dock.
Katie sighed. She wished he’d snap out of it and be her jovial friend again. “Are you sure?” They’d spent the last week talking about the situation, with the tiger showing up drunk on her doorstep more than once. She’d force-fed him coffee to sober him up. The poor guy had passed out on her sofa several nights in a row, trying to snuggle with her to sleep.
Tigers were known to be good snugglers.
“I’m sure.” He flashed a grin. “Though we could get drunk later and hash it out again.”
Yeah, unless she was packing. “I feel like I should go with Jordan to the lab.” She’d need to cancel two lunch dates and a hair appointment the next week. “Maybe I can get someone to cover for me at work.” She’d made a good life with a lot of human friends the last decade. In fact, she was mainly human now. Just disappearing wasn’t an option.
Lance nodded. “Well, besides the guy we’re chasing, just turned werewolves are few and far between. The shifting clans are doing a good job staying underground, so we could probably handle things here without you for a spell. A very short spell.” His cell phone buzzed and he lifted the device to his ear. “When? How bad? Okay.” Flipping the phone shut, he smacked his fist into his other hand. “We’ve had a report of an infected human—guy showed up at the hospital with fur growing all over his body.”
Baye frowned. “We haven’t had a human infection in a year. What’s that about?” He rubbed his chin, surveying the docks. “All right. You head over there to find out if he’s really a werewolf or some idiot on meth. Katie and I will keep looking around here—though there’s no way a lair is on a boat.”
Lance sniffed the air, concern shadowing his eyes. “I sense a werewolf signature ... one has been here lately.” He nudged Katie with his hip. “Why don’t you come to the hospital with me?”
She rolled her eyes. Now Lance was getting overprotective, too? Sure, she’d been weaker lately from the virus, but she hadn’t thought anyone else had noticed. “I’m fine. I need to track this guy.” So far, she was the only one who could actually get into the beast’s head ... or heart ... or wherever the evil lived. The other shifters only sensed the bastard. “Besides, we never hunt alone.”
Baye eyed her. “I’m just surveying the land and trying to find where the werewolf last played—no hunting tonight. Why don’t you go with Lance?”
Oh, no way. Her squad was not going to treat her like some fragile human. She settled her stance, glaring at both men. “We. Don’t. Hunt. Alone.”
They shared a look. Baye shrugged. “Fine.”
Lance grimaced. “Fair enough. I’ll call you later with answers about the human. Maybe I’ll drop by Linda’s after the hospital.”
“No.” Baye hissed out a breath. “Let the woman go. She said it’s over.”
Katie gave Lance a sympathetic smile. He’d really liked the psychologist. “Either forget her or tell her the truth about yourself. She knows you hide something ... it’s the only chance you have.”
Lance shook his head. “I can’t tell her about shifters unless I mate her, you know that. And I’m not ready to mate.” He tucked his gun in his jeans, the odd glow of his eyes piercing the night.
“Then she’s not the right one,” Baye muttered.
A slow smile wandered over Lance’s chiseled face. “You’re the only woman who truly knows me, lioness.” He shot Katie a wink and then pivoted, loping slowly out of sight.
Katie stifled a grin. What a flirt.
The breeze picked up, bringing salt and the smell of fish across the dock. She shivered.
Baye leaned over and eyed the still water. “Let’s find where this werewolf was, so we can prepare for him coming back.”
Katie nodded, opening her senses.
The creak of the dock over water masked their footsteps as they stalked closer to a row of pleasure yachts, white decks shining in the soft moonlight. The lap of water gently rocked them to and fro.
Baye rolled his neck. “I’m so sick of saltwater. Why can’t this bastard head inland?”
“Because we hate saltwater.” The beast had a brain and a sick sense of fun. Each time a full moon came and went, his strength increased. A sad and newly discovered fact regarding shifters turned werewolves, as was intelligence. The beasts seemed to get smarter the longer they lived—smarter and fully psychotic. The monsters hid for most of the month, waiting until the moon rose high to hunt and kill. For some reason, the rays gave them strength. “We need to find his lair.”
Though finding werewolves in lairs had nearly gotten Katie killed numerous times. Of course, that’s what she’d signed up for. She wasn’t supposed to fight but needed to get close in order to sense the beasts. At that point, fighting became inevitable.
Baye eyed the nearly full moon. “This guy is underground—somewhere close. The full moon isn’t for several nig
hts.”
“I know. But he comes here when he goes out to play.” A sense of oiliness coated the docks. A psychic footprint only Katie sensed. Sometimes she feared the evil would seep in through her senses and take root. “If we found where, we could have troops waiting.”
“Sounds like a great plan.” Baye dropped to a crouch, wiping a hand across the faded dock. “Uh, what’s going on between you and Lance?”
Katie’s head jerked to the side. “Nothing. Why?”
Baye shut his eyes and lifted his head, nostrils flaring. “Just making sure. Emotions get in the way when hunting animals. You know that. We don’t date members of our own squad.”
She so didn’t need the lecture on dating in the workplace. Sometimes Baye forgot she was all grown up. “Lance and I are just friends.” Good friends, sure. They’d fought together and she trusted him. “You know how I feel about Jordan.” Everybody knew.
Baye sighed, standing and opening his eyes. “I thought maybe you got over that crush.” His tone hinted he’d hoped she’d let go of that dream. “Especially now, Kate. Time to move on.”
“With Lance?” Humor lifted the corners of her lips.
Baye twisted his neck to see beyond a stack of buoys. “Maybe. If he can get over the damn psychologist.”
“I’ll think about it. But, really, I’m not taking dating advice from a lion who goes through women like cat treats.” In fact, she’d never seen Baye get serious about any woman.
“I’m too young to settle down.”
“You’re over four hundred years old.”
“Exactly.”
Katie chuckled. Then, a scent ... an intent carried in with the breeze. Dark images of death and blood filled her vision. Holy crap. Was the werewolf waiting? Couldn’t be. He’d be underground until the full moon. Storing his strength. She pushed the grotesque vision out of her brain. “I think the werewolf is here.” Too bad Lance hadn’t stayed.
Baye’s shoulders went back. “Werewolves stay hidden until the full moon.” Even so, the shifter’s stance dropped to fight, his body going deadly still.
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