by Katie Reus
The Full Moon Bar was packed when she stepped inside for the second time that day. There was a beefy security guy checking IDs but he glanced at her and didn’t move as she stepped past him. There were a lot more humans there this time. Nice blend of all the species in fact. Before she’d taken two steps the bartender made eye contact with her, motioned for her to wait, then stepped out from behind the three-deep bar.
There were a few grumbles but the tall, dark-haired feline didn’t seem to notice. More likely he didn’t care.
“You got my key?” he rumbled, holding out a hand.
Okay, she didn’t have to look far for the owner. She nodded, handing it to him. “Thanks for the ride.” She started to leave when he stopped her.
“You here to investigate the missing shifters?” he asked so quietly she barely heard him above the din of patrons and music.
She shrugged, her eyes narrowing at him. “Why? Do you know something?”
His expression darkened and for a moment, the animal stared back at her, not the man. His green eyes went complete cat, then flashed back in a blink. “No. My sister is one of the missing.”
She racked her brain, seeing the faces of all the missing women from the photos Jayce had given her. There were four Hispanic women and she couldn’t tell which one he was related to, though she remembered all their names. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. To not know what happened to someone you loved was more than anyone should have to bear. At least with a body you could find a semblance of closure.
“I’m just grateful someone other than their families and Campbell is looking for them.” He let out a harsh curse and for a brief moment the bar quieted except the music.
Just as quickly the talking started up again. “Why isn’t your Council doing anything?” she asked the bartender. From what she knew, her Council of lupine shifters were the only ones taking an interest in this case. Something told her it was because Angus Campbell was the shifter in charge of New Orleans and he held a lot of clout.
“There isn’t a feline Alpha here. To them we’re just mongrels living among wolves and vamps. No political pull, you know?” So much bitterness laced those words.
She nodded once. “I get it.”
“So . . . how’s Imelda? I’m friends with her mate but didn’t want to call right now.” The worry in his eyes was genuine.
Damn, word traveled fast. Guess it didn’t matter if there was a species difference, shifters were known for being huge gossips. Pack life and all. “She’s got her mate to support her so she’ll recover.” The tall, leggy shifter had been strong. The fact that she’d talked to Erin at all with such clarity right after her rescue told Erin that.
“Why did they take her? What did they . . . do to her?” There was a desperation in his voice and in his eyes that tore at Erin’s insides.
Looked like not everything had been spread through the grapevine. And Erin had a feeling it would stay that way if Angus Campbell had anything to say about it. If this shifter found out that other shifters had been draining Meli’s blood, he wasn’t going to get the information from her. “Hell, I don’t even know your name—”
“Can we get a fucking drink over here?” A broad-shouldered lupine shifter with spiky blond hair shouted from the bar, cutting her off.
She briefly eyed him. It was difficult to distinguish all the scents in this crowded bar but if she had to guess she’d say he was alpha in nature, but definitely not Alpha—not like her own leader, Connor, or Angus. And he didn’t look big enough to be a warrior. Erin was surprised it had taken this long for someone to get annoyed. The feline in front of her didn’t flinch at the interruption so she continued. “I can’t tell you anything, but I might have some questions for you tomorrow when you’ve got time. You’re a bartender, you hear things you might not even realize are important.” Plus he’d be motivated to find whoever had taken these women. She needed all the contacts and friends she could make. Something Jayce had taught her.
He nodded even though he looked dejected. “All right. My name’s Hector, by the way.”
A name and face immediately popped into Erin’s head. “Your sister is Leta.”
His dark eyebrows raised a fraction as he nodded. “Yeah. She’s an artist.”
“She sells her paintings in Jackson Square on weekends, but a few local shops showcase her work.” Erin had read the files front to back over and over until she’d memorized everything. Leta was twenty-four, young by shifter standards. She’d moved to New Orleans almost a decade ago with her brother after their father died, then had gotten mated to another feline artist two years ago. And she was three months pregnant.
Hector pushed out a long, tired breath. “Yeah.”
Erin should leave. She told herself to keep her mouth shut, but the pain on the guy’s face was too much. Taking a step forward she dropped her voice so only he could hear her. “The women are being kept alive and they’re not being assaulted . . . sexually. Do not tell anyone.” Before she’d come to the city Jayce and the Council had told her they were worried the women were being taken for some sick purposes—which they were, but at least it wasn’t for what they’d originally feared.
His features relaxed slightly. Not much, but Erin hadn’t expected it. The male nodded and reached into his back pocket. After scribbling two numbers on a card for the bar, he handed it to her. “I get off here at two. Call anytime, day or night. If I don’t answer my cell, call the other number. It’s my mate’s and she’ll answer. She and Leta are best friends and . . .” He shook his head. “Some days I feel like I shouldn’t even be here working while she’s gone. I just . . . fuck, I want my sister back.” Jaw clenched, he quickly turned and headed back for the bar.
Erin slid the card into her jacket pocket then left. More careful of her surroundings than normal, she navigated her way through various streets until she made it to Chartres Street and headed east.
The few remaining artists’ displays she’d seen earlier with Noah as they’d cut through Jackson Square were now gone. Young Leta should be home with her mate after a long day at the Square, not locked up and scared.
People milled about, loud and raucous and likely drunk. Erin weaved in and out of the humans and other paranormal beings until she reached a much quieter part of Chartres. Gaslight lamps flickered, creating shadows off the older buildings and adding to the magical air of the city.
As she passed two males on the cracked sidewalk, one covertly nudged the other. She could guess why. She’d done enough research of The Crescent City that she knew this wasn’t a dangerous area, but if she’d been human, she wouldn’t have been walking alone at night. It was too deserted, too far away from the restaurants on the west side of the long street. In case they had thoughts of attempting to rob her, she flashed her canines. Spikes of fear so potent it nearly smothered her senses shot off both men and they quickly crossed to the other side of the street.
During the rest of the walk she only ran into one older black man closing up an international-style market before she hit the residential area where she was staying. The elongated and narrow house was divided so that it was almost like two separate residences. She figured it had probably been apartments or rented out as a bed and breakfast at one time. The front half of the house had two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, and office. The back had four bedrooms that were all connected by a main area that was a combined kitchen and living room. She imagined it was how a dorm living area would look.
After opening the modern wooden privacy fence, she didn’t bother relocking it. She’d scent anyone coming. Though it was dark, the near-full moon illuminated all the surprisingly lush green plants of the backyard. There weren’t many flowers blooming though, not in this cold weather.
Once inside she headed straight for the second bedroom on the left. Turning on her laptop, she collapsed on the queen-size bed and called Ryan.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey, short stuff.”
She allowed herself a brief
smile at the nickname. “Hey. I need you to look some stuff up for me. I’m going to be doing research too, but I need all the extra help I can get.” She didn’t bother with small talk. Not when her time was limited.
“No prob.”
“I need you to do some research on blood rituals for shifters. Specifically blood taken from pregnant shifters. Look up blood rituals related to vamps and fae too,” she added. Might as well be thorough. “But focus on anything to do with pregnant shifters and blood, whether it’s ritual shit or . . . whatever.” She couldn’t figure out what the effect of shifter blood was, so wanted to investigate a ritual angle. Maybe this was somehow related to witches. Lord, who knew at this point.
“That’s fucking weird.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What’s going on down there?”
She gave him a brief rundown of what she’d discussed with Meli, then sent him the photos she’d taken of the shifter’s small wounds and asked him to search for dead and pregnant missing shifters drained of blood. He’d done some searches before she’d left North Carolina, but now they had more information. The blood thing was a new angle. A strange one, but new was good. She’d been on this case only a couple of days but felt like she was already so far behind.
She wanted a national search done. The Feds had ViCAP and she knew Ryan would either hack into their system or call in a favor and have someone search records for him. The man was older than their Alpha and had a lot of contacts.
Not to mention she had some Council resources. Their database probably wasn’t as updated as it should be, but the enforcers around the globe added any horrific crimes or assaults involving shifters, vamps or other supernatural creatures to it. Since they didn’t report even fifteen percent of attacks or grievances between supernatural species to the humans, they needed to keep track of things somehow.
Surprisingly the humans were fine with it. They preferred to let shifters and vamps self-govern themselves, and as long as humans weren’t injured or there was no spillover violence into the human world, no problem.
Once they disconnected, she set up the corkboard on the easel she’d requested be waiting here for her and put up the pictures of the missing women, except for Imelda. She kept all her notes in her laptop and had a feeling she’d do most of her research electronically, but she wanted to see the faces of the missing women.
To remind her of what was at stake. These women deserved everything she could give them. They deserved the rescue she’d never had.
Chapter 3
Erin smelled him before she opened her eyes. That earthy, piney scent that made her think of lying naked on a soft patch of grass in the middle of the forest with Noah right next to her. The natural instinct she normally had to reach for her hidden weapons wasn’t there. Not with him around. Even her inner wolf trusted him. She couldn’t decide if she loved or hated that.
She took a long moment, pretending she was still asleep so she could savor his presence without him knowing. After a few seconds she opened her eyes to find Noah near the entrance to the bathroom. From his position he was blocking the floor lamp by the desk. It illuminated him, making him look even larger than he really was. At six feet four inches, that was pretty damn big. His inky dark hair was wet and slicked back. It looked even darker, almost a blue-black because of the wetness.
And oh Lord, his shirt was off. All those taut lines and perfect muscular striations. No fat anywhere. The man was absolute perfection. She blinked a couple of times, trying to keep her physical reaction from showing while completely expecting a reaming for leaving him at his father’s mansion. Unfortunately her nipples tightened anyway as she imagined what it would be like to look down and see his dark head between her legs as he brought her to climax with his mouth. She barely bit back a groan at the sudden erotic image.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Didn’t know you were sleeping.”
Pushing up from her half-sitting, half-lying position against the headboard, she moved her laptop that had long since gone to sleep off her thighs. Even though she’d asked Ryan to help out with research, she’d immersed herself in searching any database she could until she’d gone cross-eyed. “It’s fine,” she murmured, wishing she could get that hot image out of her head. Kinda hard when he was standing half dressed in front of her. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand she saw it was one in the morning and frowned. “You just got in?”
He nodded and scrubbed a hand over his jaw, which had more than just a shadow of stubble. “Yeah. I was gonna borrow a razor if you have one. I must have left mine.”
Not liking the foreign feeling of jealousy that welled up inside her as she wondered why he’d been out so late, she nodded at the attached bathroom. “Look in the black bag on the counter. I’ve got a couple extra.”
“Thanks.” He came back into her room carrying a purple razor. Turning the antique chair at the desk around, he straddled it and folded his arms over the top. His arms flexed, those damn muscles tightening, teasing her. “You fall asleep working?”
She nodded again, wondering why he didn’t seem mad about her leaving him. Granted he’d run off first, but she shouldn’t have just left him there. “Just trying to figure out what, if anything, other than being pregnant these six women have in common. If their lives intersected somewhere. From what Meli said it sounds like her captors wanted to make room for more shifters.” If she could figure out how the women were being picked other than the pregnancy angle maybe she could find out who was doing this and why. And stop more from being taken.
“You need help with anything?” His voice was utterly sincere. Not a hint of annoyance at her.
She looked at the dark screen of her laptop and for a brief moment thought about turning it back on and working. Instead she shook her head. “Not tonight.” There wasn’t much more she could do and after so many hours of traveling she knew she needed sleep. Without a clear head she’d be useless to everyone.
“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” he asked.
“I want to question the families and mates of the missing women. The reports Jayce gave me were pretty slim. Maybe by talking to some of them I’ll learn more.” She also wanted to scour the city, get a feel for it, try to make contacts with anyone who might be helpful.
He nodded once as he stood, showing off all that naked expanse of skin. “I talked to Angelo on the way in. He and Brianna are going to talk to some of her contacts tomorrow. She knows some vamps through her family connections.”
Erin had almost forgotten about them. The warrior shifter and warrior fae were staying in the front of the house. Angelo was one of her packmates, though she didn’t know him as well as Noah, and Brianna was pretty cool as far as fae went. Erin wasn’t sure what the deal was with those two, but had a feeling that before they left New Orleans, they’d be a couple. If they weren’t already. “I didn’t even hear them when I got in.”
Noah shrugged, his expression completely unreadable. “Thanks for the razor. See you in the morning.” Then he was gone, like a damn ghost. Her door shut so quietly behind him she didn’t even hear the snick of it moving into place. What the hell? Was he messing with her?
Staring at the door, she didn’t know what to do. Or how she was supposed to feel. He’d just left and she wasn’t sure what that meant. Why hadn’t he yelled at her for leaving him?
Feeling unsettled, she stripped off the rest of her clothes, took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. But even that didn’t help. An edginess swam through her, raging and unsteady. She knew what it was.
Sexual freaking frustration.
A low growl built in her throat but she pushed it back down. After changing into purple-and-white polka-dotted pajama pants and a long-sleeved purple shirt, she went out into the common area. Pausing only for a moment, she marched across to his room and didn’t bother knocking. He had to be screwing with her head and she wanted to know if he was.
She found him lounging on the bed reading a book, still wearing
a pair of jeans and nothing else. The quilted blue and brown comforter similar to the one in her room was thrown back so that he was stretched out on the sheets. Bright oil paintings of gas lamps and silhouettes of men playing saxophones hung above the bed but all she could focus on was Noah.
He raised an eyebrow at her, almost mocking, but she couldn’t be sure. “Everything okay?” He sounded so casual she felt a little stupid.
Instead of leaving, though everything in her being told her to, she said, “Aren’t you mad at me for leaving you? Don’t you want to yell at me or something?”
He set the paperback down on the nightstand. “Do you want me to yell at you?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”
“Then why are you here?” His face was so unreadable. Not even a hint of what he might be thinking. Normally he didn’t shut her out like this and she found it unnerving.
Erin bit her bottom lip and decided to go for honesty even though it killed her. “I don’t know. I don’t like the thought of you angry at me, and I thought you might be screwing around with me. I don’t care what most people think but . . .” She trailed off, unwilling to go down that path. She cared way too much what Noah thought and it scared her. “I’m sorry I left you and . . . I just want to make sure we’re okay.”
His expression softened a fraction. “I’m not mad. We both needed space.” His voice was soothing, the sound of it wrapping around her in a silky embrace.
“So where were you tonight? Why were you out so late?” Crap, was that jealousy in her voice?
Now something dangerous flashed in those dark eyes. It was almost predatory, but then it was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure. “You care who I’m spending my time with?”
Yes. “No.” The answer was automatic even if it was bullshit. She cared more than she wanted to admit to herself.
He didn’t respond and she couldn’t find any words. Feeling a little pathetic, she turned to leave. Before she’d taken a step Noah had crossed the room and was in front of her, toe to toe. He moved fast.