by Dianna Love
Obviously there was good reason to question her sanity, but she’d lived moment to moment, only for getting through the next task, since six years old. She could stand here worrying about her choice and wasting precious time, then end up captured.
Or she could keep moving.
Darkness had blanketed her in the last few minutes. She’d made a hundred steps on the hard surface when the pretty female ghost in T-shirt and jeans appeared, but the ghost seemed to have a hard time holding her shape.
The spirit held a hand out, as if telling Siofra to stop or wait.
Really? Not the best advice for someone trying to escape.
Out of the sea of black, a little white dog came running up and slid past the ghost, who smiled and nodded.
Some camps had dogs and Siofra liked dogs, but she stood there, caught in confusion.
The little dog’s tail wagged and it lifted a paw.
The spirit faded then came back just long enough to point at the dog.
What kind of message was that?
When the animal whined, Siofra squatted quickly to keep it quiet. The pooch jumped into her arms. “Hey, you. Do you have a message for me?” Yep, she was destined to wear a straightjacket. She whispered, “I wish I had time to play, but I’m a little busy trying to stay alive. You should head home.” Stupid advice probably since she could see no sign of a house anywhere in this darkness. “You have to go. There are bad beasts in this area.”
He licked her face.
She didn’t want a jackal to kill him just to hurt her, and they might.
Maybe she could carry him with her in case she saw a house along the way. “Who do you belong to, buddy?”
Headlights came out of the darkness next as a car raced up to her and slammed on brakes so fast Siofra froze in place. If that vehicle held shifters, there was no point in running. They’d catch her in seconds.
Her heart pounded furiously. Baatar would say run anyway, but she couldn’t seem to stand up, much less make her legs work.
The dog climbed completely into her lap and shook.
If the car had shifters, she’d help the dog the way Baatar had helped her. She’d take off running and drop the dog quickly in the dark along the way.
The shifters would track her and leave this little guy alone.
Of course, that was assuming she held more value to them than a lost dog.
When the driver door opened, an interior light shined over a young woman, giving Siofra a rush of relief. The woman had her hair twisted up in a bun on top of her head.
Dark eyes peered from her face. “Toto! There you are.”
Siofra started to put the dog down so it could go to its owner.
“Oh, no. Don’t you put that little bastard down. My mom will kill me if I lose him again.” The woman came over and accepted the dog Siofra handed off. Then she gave Siofra a confused look. “What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, walking?”
Siofra knew an opening when she heard one. She dug around for an idea based on books she’d read and said, “I had a fight with my boyfriend. I said I wouldn’t screw him so he dumped me out here.”
The woman’s mouth opened in a horrified O shape. “Men are stupid pigs.”
“That is the truth.”
Toto’s keeper asked, “Where’re you going?”
That would be harder to answer. “I just want to get back to ... town.” She’d heard the shifters talk about going to town.
“You mean Columbus?” The dog kept trying to wiggle out of her hands.
“Yes.” Siofra hoped Columbus had a bus station. Was that city even in Texas?
As Toto squirted free, Siofra grabbed him before he completed a nosedive to the ground, and pulled the wiggling fur ball up into her arms.
“You are driving me nuts, Toto,” his keeper complained. “See if I let you out to pee again. You’ll be tying your favorite part in a knot next time and holding it.” The woman looked around and muttered, “What the heck. Someone gave me a ride once. I can do that for you. It’s not far out of my way.”
“Really?” Siofra asked, having no trouble sounding sincerely desperate. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m Lisa.”
“I’m Siofra. I really appreciate this.”
“Eh, I figure you can’t be an axe murderer, you don’t even have an axe. Besides, I took two years of karate and you’re going to have your hands full holding that little bastard.”
Siofra smiled at the odd young woman, happy to find a kindred crazy soul.
She only hoped the jackals couldn’t track her in a car.
But what about Baatar?
Would he get away from the ... Cadells?
Was she far enough away now that they couldn’t hear her thoughts? Was that threat even true? She released a breath of relief at allowing herself to finally think the name of the horrible people who had enslaved her for so long. Now her mind was as free as her body if the jackals didn’t find her.
Chapter 3
Two days later, eastern Ohio
“Welcome to our fucked-up Sunday,” Rory muttered and glanced at skies getting darker by the minute even though it was only half past seven. If not for a storm approaching, they’d have another hour until sunset, but at least the rain would cool things. He and the other two Gallize shifters on this team could track during inclement weather.
That wasn’t the problem.
None of them could fix the FUBAR they’d just discovered in an abandoned brick plant below this ridge. They were thirty-five miles west of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in a rural section of eastern Ohio.
“Copy that,” Justin Labeau whispered in agreement. The bear shifter led today’s operation, which had begun as an intelligence-gathering mission. Like Rory and Vic, Justin remained in his human form, but could move his big body with agility that a human his size would envy.
Cutting his dark-brown gaze at Rory, Justin pointed out, “Good thing I brought three of us to do this.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rory would give the bear his due, because Rory had asked what the hell they needed three for on this type of operation. Justin had originally wanted four, which Rory had argued against as well. He’d been wrong as hell.
They could use four now.
“Boss wants the new guy brought up to speed, but nobody saw this coming. It may still be a drop point for Jugo Loco, too.” Justin shook his head as he turned back to face the scene. Bounty hunters tracked both humans and shifters, but the bunch they were watching today was known for running distribution routes for the Black River pack. Where Rory’s team expected illegal product being guarded until trucks showed up, instead there were ten cages holding women and children.
Rory eyed the bounty hunter shifters, also in human form, moving around the dirt lot once used for brick production. Two shifters had the distinctive face tattoo of the Crazy Eights hunters. That part of their intel had been correct. The others might be short-term hires. Trees bordered the tall ridge all the way around to a gate wide enough for a big truck to enter.
At least those weren’t humans in the cages.
Humans would be dead or gone by now if the Black River pack was behind this operation. That ruthless organization of rogue wolf shifters kept only prisoners of value.
Humans were food.
Miserable cannibals probably believed they were technically in the right since humans were not shifters.
When shifters came out publicly to humans eight years ago, the Black River pack took full advantage of the chaos that erupted, expanding their territory internationally. They were still headquartered in South America, where they harvested plants for a hallucinogenic tea known as Jugo Loco, but today their network spread through other countries, including the US.
Evidently, experimenting on shifters and distributing the dangerous tea wasn’t enough.
No, that bunch also trafficked female shifters.
These bounty hunters were thought to be meeting with the Black River wolf pack about
Jugo Loco. That might still happen, but nothing in the intel had mentioned women and children.
As if Justin had heard Rory’s thoughts, which he couldn’t in human form, he said, “I don’t know what the hell they’re up to down there, but those guards wouldn’t be standing around if their captives were staying here for long. They’re expecting someone today, but the question is, how soon? This could turn out okay if we have enough time to bring in backup. If not, this may fuck up our deal with Scarlett.”
Rory lifted his binoculars and scanned again, then muttered, “I don’t envy the snitch who gave Scarlett Sullivan faulty information. From what Tess said, Scarlett does not tolerate bad intel.”
“Tess also said she doesn’t work with someone twice if they let her down,” Justin growled out a sigh. “This sucks. Scarlett could be a great resource in areas that we don’t have contacts. If we don’t bring the intel she’s expecting in return, she probably won’t give us anything again.” He looked over at Rory. “Tess said Scarlett’s a loner ... and a shifter. Think she might be a cat?”
Rory had wondered the same thing. “I heard that about her, too. Don’t know, but a cat would fit. Bet Cole knows.”
“He’s not going to give up anything Tess gave him in confidence unless a crisis comes up. At that point, Tess would tell us herself now that she’s on the team.” Justin returned to watching the guards below.
“Based on how Scarlett runs her own network, she could be a lioness,” Rory mused.
“That would be different,” Justin said. He blew out a long breath and grumbled, “Come on, Vic. I’m ready to find out what’s going on down there.”
Rory had just murmured his agreement when Ferrell, the jaguar he shared a body with, sent him an image of holding a lion’s head down with one massive paw.
Arrogant prick.
Speaking to his jaguar in his mind, Rory said, That’s a lion. We’re talking about a female. A lioness. One day, you’re gonna meet a predator who’ll kick our asses just because you’re overconfident, Ferrell.
Superior, Ferrell corrected telepathically. Smug attitude front and center.
Rory’s jaguar didn’t talk to him the way some of his Gallize teammates claimed theirs did. Ferrell rarely spoke and only one word when he did.
From what Justin said, his bear kept up a running commentary on everything and had a wicked sense of humor. Those two got along like two halves of one apple.
Gray Wolf started out as Cole’s adversary and had been tough for Cole to manage over the past seven years, but they’d discovered how to get along. Finding Tess, Cole’s new mate, had settled Gray Wolf’s ass down. Cole and his animal had never been as close as they were now.
Rory had nothing like that.
His jaguar could be a major dick at the worst time. Oh, he could control the beast, for now.
Ferrell tested Rory’s limits on a regular basis. Over the past few months, things had become worse. He and his jaguar had some serious disconnect happening. Rory had been slower and slower to heal any significant wound even after shifting, which normally accelerated his healing.
Was his sly-ass jaguar gaming him by holding back power at those times?
Ferrell would act like he agreed sometimes when Rory knew he didn’t, especially on one topic. Mating. When the time came, Rory would have the last say on that.
A Gallize had approximately ten years, from the point he first met his animal, to take a mate. That sounded simple enough, but if he failed to find a mate capable of accepting the power shared during bonding, his animal would begin going mad.
That would force their Guardian to put down the dangerous shifter.
The whole complicated thing had started long ago when a witch known as Mother Cadellus placed a curse on the Gallize.
Still, nothing Rory had to be concerned about for another three years.
When the curse began affecting him, he’d submit to the Guardian. His mind was made up.
Mate, Ferrell snarled, interrupting Rory’s thoughts.
Rory sent back, No, Ferrell. We will not mate.
His beast pounded at him to be released.
Rory grunted in discomfort.
Justin turned to him. “What?”
“Fucking gas, man. Where’s Vic? I’m tired of squatting behind a damn bush.”
Before Justin could reply, Rory heard two clicks on his comm unit, which indicated Vic was on his way up the hill to report. He’d been sent down to eavesdrop on the shifters. Rory had picked up wolf scents earlier when he’d gotten downwind of the two with face tattoos. He’d smelled hyena, too, and maybe another kind. Bounty hunter outfits utilized shifters who were not aligned with a pack. That left out the Black River Pack wolves actually being part of a group like this one. Those wolves weren’t allowed the choice to leave the pack.
Justin lifted his field glasses and scoped another look at the cages covered with camo netting. He’d been the first one to spot a small face peeking out from the corner of one cage. All of them were ready to rip up some shifters for caging those women and children.
Vic eased up to them, silent as a tiny mouse moving through blades of grass. But he was no mouse. The new guy shifted into a wolf. Rory didn’t think even Justin knew what kind of wolf Vic hid inside.
The Guardian would know, but he shared information only when he considered it important to the team or the mission.
Tall, at just over six feet, Vic’s loose T-shirt and jeans gave him a lanky appearance, but he had rough-cut muscle. Dark brown hair cut short on the sides and thick on top did nothing to round the square head. He’d come back from overseas duty with a hollow look in his blue-gray eyes, but the guy showed up ready to do his part and moved with damn good stealth.
Just the fact that Rory knew nothing about Vic’s wolf raised his curiosity antenna.
When the new guy moved close enough, Justin asked, “We good to wait on the backup I called in?”
“I don’t think so. They’ve got the first of two transports showing up in thirty-seven minutes. The road those vehicles will be traveling in on is downwind and guarded at the entrance two miles up.”
“Fuck,” Justin growled low.
Backup was on the way, but thirty-seven minutes might cut it too close or bring in the cavalry just as the trucks for these captives arrived. The bounty hunters would kill the captives to prevent anyone from testifying against them.
The new guy wasn’t through dumping bad news. “They got nine women and four children, all shifters just as we thought.”
Rory asked, “Nine? What’s in the last cage?”
“Nothing as far as I can tell,” Vic replied. “And I don’t think those captives are being sold for breeding.”
Nodding, Rory cursed to himself. If the Black River pack was behind this, as they suspected, those kidnapped shifters were all headed to bad places. Once the pack had what they needed for experiments in their labs, or for breeding, they shoveled the rest off as slaves.
Some even went to the Cadells, who were the Gallize shifters’ number one enemies and followers of Mother Cadellus.
Vic’s grim expression didn’t let up. “Even if we wait for someone to arrive so we can track them, we can’t get in place to follow without shifters sent ahead seeing or smelling us on their exit route. Plus, if we sit back and let them separate those prisoners to ship out, we’ll likely never see some of them again.”
“Copy that.” Justin stretched his neck one way then the other. The bear shifter was ready for action. “We need to contain that site before anyone shows up.”
Rory reminded him, “If we go busting in there, we’ll lose any hope of intel.”
Justin flexed his jaw. “Agreed, so this is what we’re going to do. One of us will insert covertly around the east side and hide in the trees. Once that one is in place, the other two go in hot in a frontal assault. When all hell breaks loose, the two at the front take down every guard except one. We let that shifter think he’s escaped. Logic says he runs to the wood
s to get out of the open. With the way this ridge blocks most options for escape, I’m thinking he’ll take the tire track path going into the woods behind the cages. When he does, our early insert follows him.”
No one said anything at first.
Rory had calculated the risk and thought out loud. “Two can handle those six guards below, if that’s all the shifters, but there could be more. If that happens, this plan has every reason to not work.” Inserting into enemy territory without enough intel or backup was not the best option, but some operations just had to be made up on the fly.
Still squatting next to him, Justin murmured, “Always the glass-half-full-of-poison guy.”
That bear shifter couldn’t get through a day without pissing off someone, most often Rory, as of late.
Ignoring Justin’s jab, Rory explained patiently, “I’m not saying it won’t work, only that I can come up with at least three ways it will go to shit in minutes.”
Justin said, “You two do your part and I’ll do mine.”
That meant Justin intended to be the one inserting, which could put Justin at the highest risk of getting killed if more than one ran into the woods. Also, whoever took off after the runner might be led right into another pack of shifters. Rory and his teammates could each handle more than one if these shifters weren’t juicing on Jugo Loco.
True to its name, a shifter using the drug might fight like an insane berserker.
Rory interjected, “If I take lead, that’ll free you up to direct the attack.”
Justin glared at him. “Why? A minute ago you were telling me this has zero chance of succeeding.”
“I didn’t say zero chance, only that it had holes.” Rory should take the lead to insert covertly for one simple reason. Like Cole, Justin had a mate to go home to, which Rory would never have. Before Justin and Cole found mates, none of their group thought they had a chance at surviving the mating curse. Bonding with a powerful Gallize shifter would kill a human and even some non-Gallize shifters.
Their best option was a Gallize female. Those women weren’t originally intended to be shifters, according to what Rory had learned from their Guardian, but recent information suggested that some could be.