Spotting His Leopard (Shifters, Inc.)

by Georgette St. Clair

  Well, this could be helpful; it was always good to touch base with the locals. Gwenneth quickly returned the gesture and followed the girl through the crowd. The girl led her away from the main tourist area, through the business district, the residential district, and finally towards the island’s slums. She moved quickly, and Gwenneth hurried to keep up. Finally, the girl ducked in to a small alleyway stacked with bags of stinking refuse and broken furniture.

  “It is you! I knew it! You are returned!” the girl said happily. “Are you coming to stay with us again? Hiro’s arm has healed up! Last week we got a purse with a thousand milukas in it! We gave some of it to that girl Fanji because she had her baby, remember her?”

  Returned? So her twin sister had been on the island before?

  “I, ah…I can’t stay long. I wish I could. I’m just here working a job right now,” she said gently, and the girl’s face fell.

  “Of course,” she said, nodding, with a touch of sadness on her face. “We are grateful for your gifts. We have been receiving them every month. We used last month’s gift to buy medicine for Hiro ."

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy that it helped,” she said, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what exactly was going on here. Her sister was sending money to this girl and her friends? What was her angle? Rhonwen wasn’t the maternal type. It was Gwenneth who had always been the soft touch, which never failed to send Rhonwen into fits of impatience.

  “Nobody helped us growing up, when we were fending off mom’s boyfriend of the week or dumpster-diving for food, did they?” she’d say bitterly. “We had to fight for every scrap. So why should we help anybody but ourselves?”

  Gwenneth gazed down into the little girl’s dirty, hopeful face. She should at least go see where this girl was staying and figure out if there was a way she could help her. And if she went, she might get a better idea of what was going on with her sister. She had obligations that evening, but she should be able to spare some time early tomorrow.

  “I would like to come visit you,” she said. “Maybe early tomorrow morning you can send someone to come get me? I am staying at the Banyan Tree Hotel of Blissful Conception.”

  “I will be there at dawn,” the girl said, nodding, and then she turned and ran down the alley, casting one longing glance back behind her before vanishing around the corner. Gwenneth found herself cursing her sister’s selfishness. She’d gotten close to that little girl, made the girl think she cared about her, and then left her in the lurch. And how long would she even keep sending money? As long as the girl and her gang or family or whatever were useful, Gwenneth imagined.

  Thoroughly rattled, Gwenneth turned and walked out of the alley. She paused to draw in a deep breath of fresh air, then started heading back towards the tourist section of the city – and almost ran straight into the handsome wolf shifter from the museum.

  He raked her with a knowing look and stuck out his hand in introduction. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Tyler Witlocke. And you are?”

  Chapter Three

  Why had the woman just come out of a stinking alley near the dodgiest part of town? Tyler thought as he moved into her path. She was definitely up to something.

  She looked startled as he thrust his hand out to her, and took a step back without shaking it.

  “Oh, ah…hello. Thanks for sticking up for that boy back there,” she said politely. “I appreciate it.”

  Still not offering up her name after he’d introduced himself. Well, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her.

  He smiled at her. “And you are?”

  She looked up at him and answered with a faint hint of impatience. “Kathy Bowman.”

  No, you’re not.

  “Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Kathy?”

  He saw a faint hint of red flush her cheeks, and her pupils flared. She was wearing brown contacts. So, colored contact lenses and clear-lensed glasses she didn’t need.

  “I’m really not here to socialize,” she said with a smile that was polite but not inviting. She took a step back as she spoke, turning her body away from him. “Nothing personal,” she added with a glance back over her shoulder. “Recent bad breakup. I came here to get away from it all. You understand.”

  “Certainly.” He nodded. She lingered for a moment longer than necessary, biting her lip. He could smell the spicy scent of her desire floating in the air. She wanted him. He wanted her. Why couldn’t his life just be simple for once?

  Then she turned on her heel and strode away.

  He’d give her a head start before he started tailing her again, he figured. He stood there and watched, admiring the roll of her hips and her catlike grace as she threaded her way through the crowd. She wasn’t even aware of her own sexiness, he could tell. Oh, did he want to make her purr. He imagined his fingers twined through her hair, his cock nudging against the slick, wet petals of her pussy…

  “Sir! Sir!” An urgent yanking on his sleeve brought him back to reality. It was the bicycle taxi driver.

  The boy bowed to Tyler. “I am Maji, at your service. Would the honorable sir be needing a guide for the duration of your visit?”

  Tyler couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s enormous, cheeky grin and his big, hopeful eyes. He wouldn’t feel right having the boy taxi him around, though. The thought of his skinny legs pumping those bicycle pedals made him feel guilty.

  He pulled out his wallet and started fishing out some bills. “I don’t need a guide, Maji, but here’s a gift for you and your family.”

  Maji shook his head. “Oh, no, sir. I work for my money.” His jaw had a stubborn thrust to it.

  Tyler sighed. At least if he were the one hiring him, he could ensure that the boy got paid every day and wouldn’t be mistreated by tourists for the next couple of weeks. “All right. What’s your day rate?”

  “Fifty milukas per day, sir.”

  “All right.” Tyler counted out five hundred milukas. “That’s for ten days.”

  He bobbed his head. “You will not be sorry, sir! Where will you be going first?”

  Tyler glanced in the direction the woman had gone. “I’d like to see where she went,” he said. “But let’s be discreet.”

  A frown creased the boy’s forehead. “She is a nice lady, I think, but did you see her talking to the little girl back at the museum? I know that girl; she lives near me. She belongs to the Thieves’ Guild. I saw her making the sign to the leopard lady, and that lady returned the sign. You would do well to be careful.”

  If she had successfully communicated with the little girl, that meant she was up to date on the latest guild sign-language. Tension tightened in Tyler’s gut. Okay, so all his suspicions about her had been right on so far. He should walk away and leave her to do whatever she was going to do, but he couldn’t. She was his fated mate, he was sure of it. Running into her here, of all the remote places in the world – it had to mean something, didn’t it?

  “I know,” he said to Maji. “I need to keep an eye on her for reasons of my own.”

  “All right, then. She was heading back in the direction of the Visitors’ District. Climb in,” Maji said, and Tyler hopped into the back of the bicycle cab. Maji quickly propelled them along narrow streets that were crowded with ancient cars and battered motorbikes and more bicycle cabs. A lot of the natives just travelled in their jaguar form, leaping along the tops of cars and carriages, jumping from one fire escape or awning to the next; it was faster that way.

  Despite the poverty and the ancient creaking vehicles, the streets had a festive air. The street-lamps were festooned with garlands of flowers in preparation for the parade, and in everey shop window, there were giant posters and banners with garishly color portraits of the king and his two wives.

  Finally they caught up with her. Tyler saw her head into a coffee shop.

  “I’ll meet you back at my hotel in an hour. I’m staying at the Acacia Hotel of the Bountiful Litters,” he said to Maji, scrambling out of the cab.


  He casually strolled into the souvenir store next door and bought a few little trinkets. He pulled out his spy camera, which he’d designed himself. While it appeared he was taking pictures of the scenery, the hidden lens on the side of the camera was taking pictures of her. The natives weren’t permitted to own cameras, but the authorities grudgingly allowed their use by tourists.

  Tyler waited until she’d purchased a bottle of soda and left. He followed her at a distance for several blocks.

  When she finished her drink and tossed it into the garbage, he made his move. He walked up to the trash can and pretended he was throwing away a bottle of water, but instead he palmed her bottle and slid it into his rucksack. He didn’t bother trying to follow her any more. The island wasn’t that big; he’d be able to find out what hotel she was staying at without any difficulty.

  Instead he went to a pharmacy and bought a few supplies, including baby powder and Scotch tape. Makeshift fingerprinting kit.

  Next he went back to his room and pulled out his cell phone. He’d made the phone into a mini-computer that held an international database of fingerprints. He couldn’t connect to the internet, but he could at least find out who she was.

  He carefully dusted her bottle for prints with baby powder and then lifted the prints with the Scotch tape. Then he ran her prints. And came up with…nothing.

  He stared at the screen in frustration, shaking his head. That couldn’t be.

  He ran another print from the other side of the cup. Same result. Nothing.

  She didn’t exist.

  He tapped his fingers impatiently as he considered this. It just wasn’t possible. She was American, she was in her mid-twenties, which meant that there had to be some record of her somewhere. The fact that he couldn’t find her in his database was just as revealing as if he’d actually been able to track down some results – because it almost certainly meant she was wearing something over her fingers to disguise her fingerprints.

  Again, that was leaning in the direction of her being a pro who was working hard to cover her tracks. The island was too hot for her to get away with wearing gloves, so she had donned fake fingerprints so she wouldn’t leave a single trace of herself behind. They’d be good enough that unless someone was staring right at her fingers, close up, nobody would notice.

  He considered his options, and finally decided to head to the island’s one airport and book a charter flight back to the mainland for the day. There, he’d have access to the internet. He’d see if facial recognition software could pull up anything. He hadn’t been able to fit that database in his cell phone.

  He needed to know who she was.

  He was hoping he’d prove himself wrong somehow. He wanted to find out that there was a good reason for her to be a ghost, to have no records in the system.

  Ironically, the woman who’d just dumped him, Pixie, had also been a thief. She was an expert pickpocket, and could pick a lock in the blink of an eye. And Tyler was pretty much a rules-following guy.

  So why was he always attracted to dangerous dames? I guess opposites attract, he thought ruefully.

  Besides, it wasn’t like Pixie had been a monster. She had been a good person at heart, and once she’d started working for Shifters, Inc., she’d completely stopped stealing for profit. She would pickpocket to amuse herself and then return what she’d palmed. She mostly helped the clients of Shifters, Inc. spot holes in their security.

  Briefly, he considered contacting Shifters, Inc. for help in figuring out this woman’s identity, but for various reasons he decided not to. For one thing, Shifters, Inc. was one big high school drama club when it came to gossip, and for another thing, he felt strangely protective of the sexy, mysterious feline. Whatever he found out about her, he wanted to be the one to decide how to handle that information.

  Glumly, he headed out to find Maji to get a ride to the airport.

  Chapter Four

  5:55 p.m… Gwenneth’s gaze flicked from the big round clock on the hotel lobby’s wall to the doorway and back again.

  “We’re pregnant!” The happy cry of a female bear shifter rang through the lobby, making her start. Gwenneth briefly glanced over at her. Good God, the bear shifter was actually waving her pregnancy test around. And other women were rushing over to look at the pee stick, and oohing and aahing as if it were an actual baby. The woman’s husband, a big, round-faced man, shifted to grizzly form and let out a roar of happiness, pounding his furry chest with his paws. When he turned human again, he was stark naked, his clothes lying in shreds on the floor, and a hotel employee rushed up to him holding out a bathrobe.

  She’d heard the couple talking earlier. They’d been trying for years, and they’d spent the last couple of months on Khaliji. After the first month of doing the usual rituals – staring into the Eye of the Jaguar, visiting the little temples around the city, making love in front of the sacred fountain at the center of town - they’d taken the next step. They’d gone into the jungle to the Temple of GuRa, spent a month following the instructions of the priestesses, and now, finally, success!

  A sudden thought flashed through her mind. Did the Eye of the Jaguar really work as a fertility token, or was it a myth? If she helped to steal it, was she preventing all these happy couples from conceiving?

  It couldn’t possibly be real, she reassured herself. Heck, that bear couple had talked about how they’d stared at it every day for a month, and they hadn’t had any success. She wasn’t hurting anybody.

  Gwenneth joined the crowd in applauding, because it would look weird if she didn’t. Her thoughts were elsewhere, though. As she clapped, she sneaked another glance at the clock on the lobby wall. Any minute now…

  She felt nerves thrumming through her body. She hadn’t seen Nadette in ages, and with Nadette, you never knew what you were going to get. A welcoming smile or a knife in the gut. And would Nadette guess who she really was? She was about to find out.

  She shouldn’t have been this nervous. She’d prepared for every eventuality that she could think of, and she had always been faster than Nadette. Nadette was a jackal shifter, and if Gwenneth was forced to defend herself in a fair fight, she could take her easily. The problem was that Nadette never fought fair.

  Another image of that wolf shifter flashed through her mind and she almost cursed aloud. Now of all times, her focus needed to be laser-sharp.

  She needed to get in, finish the job, and get out. She shuddered to think what the price of failure would be – for her sister, herself, and all her old cohorts.

  A woman was walking through the front door. Female, not native, wearing dark sunglasses, a black scoop-neck T-shirt, and a pastel-green skirt with little black polka dots on it. Wrong hair-color and skin-color, of course. She had blonde hair and her skin was deeply tanned. But she was alone, and she was the right size, right build, right facial shape. And the way she moved was familiar. It was definitely Nadette.

  Nadette looked around the room, spotted her, and began walking towards her. As she got closer, Gwenneth could see that her face was drawn and there were deep circles under her eyes. Something was weighing on her.

  Gwenneth wished she could ask what was wrong, but that might give her away. It was possible that she was supposed to know what was wrong. Maybe Nadette was just worried about the job.

  Gwenneth was standing towards the back of the huge lobby, next to a giant potted palm. She was far enough from the crowd that she could talk privately, but still in a public enough spot that Nadette would be less likely to try to kill her. Or would she? Based on the look on Nadette’s face and the fact that her hand was dipping into her large purse, maybe not.

  Nadette moved closer with an angry, purposeful stride, and Gwenneth held up her hand to indicate that she should stop.

  Nadette ignored it and kept moving.

  “Stop.” Gwenneth’s voice cracked through the air. Nadette flashed her a feral grin and glanced around. Most of the crowd was at the other end of the room, closer to the door,
their attention focused on the female bear shifter and her husband. Nadette held out her free hand, palm up. The message was clear. Do you really want to cause a scene and attract attention right now?

  So she was playing chicken. Bitch.

  Gwenneth’s hand tightened on the ballpoint pen she held clutched in her hand. The tip was sharpened and coated with a concoction she’d mixed together back home. One quick jab, and Nadette would slump into unconsciousness. If she could get to her first, that was.

  Nadette kept walking. She was almost on her.I It was now or never…

  “Well, hello, old thing. Fancy meeting you here.” Corran’s elegant British accent cracked through the air. How the hell had he snuck up on them? For a human, he moved like a damn snake. Slithered right in when you least expected him.

  Nadette and Gwenneth froze where they stood. He was as handsome as ever, wheat-blond hair artfully mussed, cheekbones so sharp you could cut yourself on them. He wore a tailored linen suit, slightly rumpled in the damp heat. He’d always been an elegant dresser.

  “Hello, English studmuffin.” Gwenneth flashed him a smile, and he returned it with a surprisingly cold glare from his beautiful ice-gray eyes. Like Nadette, he thought she was her twin sister, or so she hoped…and since when did he hate Rhonwen? Back when Gwenneth had still been part of their gang, Corran’s automatic default mode had always been set to “Flirt with anything female that walks upright”, so this bitchiness was something new.

  “You invited Corran.” Nadette’s voice rolled out in a low, angry growl.