Stalking His Mate: League Of Gallize Shifters

by Dianna Love

  More than that, a Gallize female possessed an equal amount of power so she could handle bonding with a Gallize shifter.

  Finding a polka-dot unicorn would be simpler.

  Just as well. Rory was the last of his bloodline. If these guys lost him today, they’d miss him as he would his brothers-in-arms, but losing him would be the better choice.

  “You haven’t given me a good reason to let you take the lead,” Justin pressed, throat muscles bunching with tension as he waited.

  “It’s simple, bear. I’m the best choice. I have better stealth than either of you and I’m faster.”

  Justin’s gaze settled on him in a hard way, calling bullshit as clearly as his next words. “Is this because I’m mated, cat?”

  “Vic’s not mated.” Rory almost smiled at countering Justin’s argument so smoothly without having to outright lie.

  That bear would smell a lie.

  Vic shrugged. “He can have lead. I got no death wish.”

  Rory growled softly at the unknown wolf, because Vic had just given credence to Justin’s suspicions.

  Rory dropped his voice to a deep tone. “I’m doing my job and protecting our team leader, but if you’ve changed your mind about leading, let us know.”

  Shaking his head and muttering a string of curses, Justin said, “You’re such a dick. Okay, you insert and get in position inside the tree line behind that second building. You have twelve minutes from the point we split up.” Nodding toward the trees, Justin said, “Get past the tire tracks over there. Vic and I will break down the front door. We’re all going dark until I send two clicks. That’s the signal we’re going in.”

  Moving around to rise to his feet behind a wide tree, Rory stretched limbs tight from all that squatting. “Sounds like a plan, oh bear leader.”

  Glaring up at Rory, Justin said, “I can’t wait to see the woman that’ll put up with your surly ass.”

  Justin would have to wait a long time and even then he’d end up disappointed.

  Rory enjoyed an occasional tangle with a woman who wanted no more than he did. The proverbial one-night stand. Everyone left satisfied. Sexually, at least. He often walked away with a deeper sense of loneliness that he should be used to by now.

  Cohabitation had once been in his plans, but that was no longer in his future.

  Even so, some mornings he hated climbing out of a cold bed.

  He made his way around the far side of the hill bordering the back lot of the brick plant, which spread over eighty acres. The empty office building stood far away, close to the river. A wolf that decided to run would have to choose a direction to take along that riverbank. Content that he knew what he would do, Rory quickly eased around piles of sand and forgotten equipment until he slipped into the woods.

  Moving with stealth afforded him by his cat, he paused when he sucked in the strong scents of fur and terror.

  The cages were lined up and covered with netting tossed loosely over them, hiding the captives from sight overhead. The wolves should have spread out their guards and prevented someone like Rory from infiltrating.

  Overconfidence and arrogance had led to many fatal mistakes in the field.

  Weaving his way deeper into the forest, Rory caught the smell of jackal and fresh blood. Closing his eyes, he listened for a sound, because that hadn’t come from the direction of the cages, but further out in the woods.

  His mind filled with an image of a jackal body ripped into ten pieces and scattered over a bloody landscape.

  That damn Ferrell considered himself a freakin’ Rembrandt of horror. His beast preferred painting gory scenes to get his message across rather than trying to communicate with words. Prick.

  When the sharp smell of fresh blood hit Rory again, his jaguar growled over and over. Ferrell wanted out now.

  Not yet, you crazy bastard.

  The jaguar slammed his insides hard enough to make Rory’s claws flick out. Damn beast.

  Seizing control, Rory withdrew his claws and started moving again, if for no other reason than to settle Ferrell down. The jaguar wasn’t much for being still, except when stalking prey.

  Rory hated to be right.

  An unexpected jackal could screw up everything.

  Staying downwind of the guards and the cages, he followed the scent that drifted through the trees and grew stronger the deeper he went.

  A whimpering sound barely reached him.

  He’d made another two hundred feet when he spied a break in the woods. Moving closer, he discovered two picnic tables under a canopy of large oaks. Probably once used by workers for lunch breaks.

  Two males blocked his view of someone they had prone on top of a picnic table. He’d found the source of the jackal stench. Bare feet belonging to what he guessed was a woman or a large child kicked, and a sound squeaked out as one shifter bent over his prey.

  Those fools had their backs to Rory. He knew how to move around and keep them from scenting him easily, but these two were just plain stupid to trust the shifters out front to cover their asses.

  Neither guard wore a shirt. One had on shorts and boots, and stood with his arms folded over his chest, observing what his bald buddy was doing.

  Tattoos covered Baldy’s head and ran down the middle of his back, stopping at the band of his jeans. Some weird design that made no sense to Rory.

  “Please don’t,” a female voice ordered in a frightened voice.

  Stretching his neck, Rory could see the squirming form of her lower body in torn jeans. White hair flashed in a gap between the men.

  The white hair didn’t make sense. She didn’t sound old and her feet belonged to someone young. Also, Rory couldn’t smell another shifter present besides the jackals.

  Were those shifters about to feed on a prisoner?

  Or was one of them threatening to shoot her full of some drug?

  Her voice jumped up a notch with her panic. “P-please don’t do this.”

  Baldy had a voice that sounded like he should shift into a pit bull. “I warned you once to shut the fuck up unless you’re ready to come clean. We get paid for fertile shifters. That kid you were hugging is not yours. Are you related to them?”

  “No. I met them on a bus yesterday.”

  “Not having a kid with you is one mark against you. I don’t smell any animal. That’s two marks against you. If you’re not a shifter, you’re not worth the time it took for those wolves to drag your ass here. If you don’t prove to me you’re something worth selling, I’ll drag that boy over here to get you to talk.”

  “No. Don’t hurt that child. Do what you will to me, but please don’t hurt that little boy.”

  Rory admired this terrified woman who put a stranger’s child before her own safety. A Gallize warrior would face anything to protect an innocent, but what average person would face being slashed by jackals to protect someone else, and a shifter at that?

  Rory checked his watch. Due to making good time, he had over four minutes until Justin and Vic would wreak havoc. A lot could happen in that much time.

  Busting in to break up those jackals now would screw the plan. But Rory would not stand down while a shifter mauled or raped anyone, definitely not a defenseless female.

  He moved closer to get a better look and cast another glance at his slow-ass watch. Three minutes, fifty-two seconds.

  If he jumped too soon, he’d put Justin and Vic in danger by alerting the guards and destroying the element of surprise.

  If he waited too long, that woman might die or end up ripped apart by those claws extended from Baldy’s fingers. The middle claw had dried blood on it, which meant the bastard had already hurt her.

  Ferrell gave Rory the image of his jaguar playing with a tattooed bald head like it was a soccer ball.

  Rory had reached the path he expected the escaping shifter to take. If he killed these two, and the shifter on the run did come this way, he’d end up having to kill the runner, too, once again screwing the original plan.

&n
bsp; A new image of two headless jackals wandering around in their human forms filled Rory’s mind. He shook off the vision, but he was trembling with the need to tear into those shifters for harming that female. Any sound of fighting would bring the other guards here, which would be yet another spectacularly bad idea.

  Now his annoying jaguar created a picture of multiple headless canine stick bodies with tails, all dripping blood.

  Crazy beast thought he could take on all the shifters. If even one was jacked up on Jugo Loco, it turned a winnable battle into possible defeat. Shifters on that shit were hard to kill.

  Ferrell snorted a laugh.

  Baldy kept a beefy arm holding the woman down. Was she a shifter? If not, why would the wolves have kept her?

  It took Rory’s extra-sharp hearing to catch her pitiful, “Touch me ... and you die.”

  One minute she’s terrified and the next she threatens these two?

  Baldy slapped her.

  Shit! Rory grabbed his head to keep himself from shifting. His fucking watch moved like molasses.

  Three minutes, eight seconds.

  Chapter 4

  Baatar is so going to chew my ass over this.

  Siofra stared into the dead eyes of the vicious jackal shifter holding her down on the wooden table like she was a picnic lunch he planned to devour. He and the ugly buddy beside him acted weird. Their pupils were dilated.

  Were they on drugs?

  Her first Sunday of freedom sucked.

  Two days ago, she’d thought her luck was changing the minute Toto’s keeper gave Siofra a car ride from the side of the road. But that luck had run out yesterday.

  She hadn’t done anything wrong, just unknowingly sat beside shifters—a female lynx shifter and her cub—on the bus they’d taken out of Columbus, Texas. She didn’t hold it against the woman and her son for being shifters.

  Siofra wouldn’t have known what they were if the little boy hadn’t started changing while he slept. The woman had sent a panicked look to Siofra as if she would out them.

  Siofra had a moment of indecision, because Baatar’s constant warnings echoed in her head … telling her that any shifter was a threat.

  But she saw only a frightened woman trying to protect her child. Siofra had smiled and whispered, “Just wake him up and calm him down.” After that, they were bus buddies. The woman whispered what she was and how she’d been moving slowly across the country to find family who would protect them.

  Siofra couldn’t treat that woman and child any differently than the children and female captives she’d cared for over the years. Male shifters were definitely not to be trusted any more than a Cadell, but Siofra had trouble hating anyone.

  She’d never been a hater at heart.

  On that bus ride, she’d imagined finding a place to settle with Baatar where she could find a job taking care of young children.

  Now she couldn’t see her future.

  Siofra didn’t blame the lynx shifter for getting caught. It was just a matter of Siofra being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Story of her life, apparently. She’d been holding the sleeping boy for his exhausted mom as the three of them took a stroll around a restaurant where the bus had stopped last night. She’d been more than ready to stretch her legs after hours upon hours of sitting.

  The bounty hunters jumped them the minute they stepped out of sight of the restaurant windows. She was dragged into a van and whisked away in a matter of seconds.

  Baatar would have yelled at her, but given the same situation, she knew in her heart he would have been nice to the mom and her cub, too. That’s what a good man would do.

  Baatar would not, however, be staring up at a crazy shifter with no hope of getting away.

  She had a lecture coming from her camp brother, which she’d welcome if she could find a way out of this. And if he ever escaped.

  The only positive was that neither of these two recognized her white hair. They weren’t from the Cadells.

  “Touch you and I’ll die?” The bald shifter laughed in her face. “You think you can threaten me, bitch?” he gritted out with a mouthful of bad breath.

  Not really, but she was desperate for any way to keep him from putting his hands on that little boy. She’d been trying to rally her energy and hoped the threat would cause it to show up or make these two think twice about being around her.

  “Time for you to shift, bitch, if you don’t want to be our next meal.”

  His disgusting buddy nodded in agreement.

  Fighting to keep her voice as calm as she could, Siofra said, “I-I don’t know what ... ”

  Pissed, he sliced a claw across her stomach and burned a new hot path through her skin.

  She arched with the pain and opened her mouth to scream.

  He slapped his hand over her mouth. She clamped her teeth down hard, breaking skin and tasting his nasty blood before he snatched his hand away.

  “Shit! Bitch bit me!”

  She sucked in what was left of her scream so she wouldn’t have to bite him again, but her stomach hurt so much. Had he infected her with his shifter blood?

  Could he turn her because she bit him?

  Please, no. Anything but a jackal.

  He slashed a claw down her arm. She keened at the pain.

  The second guard was smaller and had a bad case of the shakes, but he laughed. “Just cut her open and force her to shift, Vern. If she doesn’t, we use her to feed the group.”

  Tears streamed from her eyes. Her skin burned where he’d clawed her and she couldn’t draw a deep breath.

  She’d sold crazy before. Could she do it again? She had nothing else for defense. She warned him again, “I have bad energy inside me. If you hurt me, it will show up and you’ll die.”

  An empty threat this time, when she felt no weird power tingling in her body and no ghost coming to get in the way.

  “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  Score. But hey, she must be if even a stranger realized it.

  Vern lifted his claw-tipped fingers once again. “I’m going to open you up. If gutting you doesn’t make you change, you ain’t a shifter.”

  He smacked a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream again.

  As Vern’s other hand came down to strike, his shaky sidekick slammed into him, knocking Vern to the side.

  Still braced for horrible pain and death, it took a second for her to realize she was free of Vern’s grasp. Adrenaline had to be the only reason she could twist around and scramble off the table in spite of her bleeding wounds.

  Cupping her middle, she stumbled to the nearest tree and turned to look behind her at the sound of fists hitting bodies.

  A man was attacking the jackal shifters.

  She had to be hallucinating. No man had ever come to her rescue except Baatar.

  This guy had a beefed-up body and stood as tall as balding Vern, but those jackals were hyped up on something. Probably Jugo Loco.

  That man had no hope to defeat them.

  Her savior turned his head her way for a second. Fierce golden eyes met her gaze and a buzz of energy raced through her. The moment passed just as quickly. Returning to the battle, he knocked the bald one off his feet and now fought the shaky sidekick with a series of strikes that looked like something impressive from an action movie. His movements were a blur of quick, accurate hits, where the jackals’ were off-balance and sloppy.

  Vern came up from the ground looking furious and out for blood. He swiped a clawed hand at the new guy, slashing his neck and ripping open his shoulder.

  Based on strength and speed alone, Golden Eyes had to be a shifter, which meant he’d heal fast, but at the moment he fought injured.

  Vern took advantage of hurting the new guy and punched him off his feet. She clenched her hands, wanting to help him. She should be running, but guilt would rip her apart. This man had stepped into danger and allowed her to get away.

  Her brain kept screaming, “Go now!” She should, but she couldn’t ju
st turn and run, leaving him to face two shifters strung out on drugs.

  Not after he’d saved her from being gutted.

  Baatar would not be happy with her, but this was one of those moments that defined a person. Like helping a lynx shifter and her child.

  Siofra could not live with herself if she left this man to die. Anyone who stood between her and danger was worth fighting to save.

  Terror swamped her at stepping in.

  What could she do to help?

  Golden Eyes was back on his feet, but Vern slugged the guy’s damaged shoulder. Her savior sucked in a deep breath.

  She fisted her hands, wanting to shove that punch back at Baldy.

  All at once, the buzz of energy she’d felt two days ago returned. It built with intensity and flowed through her bare feet, then up her legs. It spread throughout her core and all the way to her fingers.

  She clutched her middle as the energy ignited a fire in her gut. At the same time, the pain in her stomach subsided and her wound began to heal.

  How was that happening?

  Siofra had little experience with freedom most people took for granted, and she’d spent her life without much hope for a better tomorrow. From this point forward, she would follow her new, personal Rule Number One.

  Don’t waste time questioning any good luck that falls your way like small dogs running up to you in the dark, golden-eyed strangers who appear out of nowhere to save you, or weird energy that manifests itself whenever it wants.

  Especially if said energy gets your butt out of danger.

  What had Baatar told her? You are strong. You can do this, Baby Girl.

  Of course, he’d also told her to stay away from shifters.

  Details, details.

  She couldn’t stay away from all shifters. That was becoming painfully obvious. She had to find a way to help the others escape before she got out of here, but maybe the man fighting the jackals was here to save them.

  She raced forward, heading for the jittery jackal, who had just gotten to his feet after being knocked on his ass.

  He’d smirked the whole time his friend slashed her skin.