Fire Jaguars 3
Dark Moon Dance
Sixty years in a secret organization, Etienne de la Fontaine returns to the valley home of the Fire Moon clan after a disastrous mission left him recovering. Forced to rebuild, he recoils from nightmares, panic attacks, and a broken body. His family home is dusty and neglected. When he requests to return, he's rejected and confronts an old lover in the darkness.
One of the poisoned jaguars, Isaac Deforrest returns to security patrol. He searches the home of a lover who disappeared when they were young. He finds the same lover, returning without a word and ragged around the edges. The connection between them remains powerful.
Searching for her kidnapped sister, Ekaterina Lilyana Brankovich of the Sand Moon clan remains under her father's restrictions. Her inner sand jaguar responds to the two guardians assign to her protection. With their support, she finds her inner power to rebel against her father and search for the truth.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 61,612 words
DARK MOON DANCE
Fire Jaguars 3
Nicole Dennis
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
DARK MOON DANCE
Copyright © 2013 by Nicole Dennis
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-985-8
First E-book Publication: December 2013
Cover design by Christine Kirchoff
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
To everyone who is waiting for more of my yummy jaguars. I hope you enjoy this new addition.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
DARK MOON DANCE
Fire Jaguars 3
NICOLE DENNIS
Copyright © 2013
Chapter 1
The overwhelming scents of death and blood filled his nose, but Etienne couldn’t allow his nostrils to twitch. He needed to play dead. Moans of agony from the victims shot and dying echoed through the empty club instead of the eye-twitching, pulse-pounding music the deejay poured through the speakers. Pleas for mercy fell on the closed minds of the splinter terrorist group, who became murderers of jaguars and normals.
Lying in a pool of his blood, two bullets in his right shoulder, another in his side, another in his hip, Etienne de la Fontaine felt all of them burning. If the bullets had liquid heavy metal centers, he would turn into a dead cat. It wouldn’t be an act. He didn’t make a sound or twitched a muscle.
With tiny movements, he slid his good hand under his body, clasping his fingers around the grip of his Glock. Once he got a decent grip, his finger on the trigger guard, he waited. His breathing controlled to the shallow breaths to not lift his back.
There were short, precise shots mixed with desperate pleas as the killers moved from victim to victim. He realized they were placing a deliberate final shot in every victim.
This wasn’t how he wanted this damn assignment to finish. He hunted and lived in this revolting club with the ear-bleeding music for months. He chatted and flirted with the younger members, waiting for an invite back to their clan hideout to meet their older leaders. Deep undercover with a flawless name and background, he slid into the role with ease of a practice agent. Something went wrong.
How the hell did this mess happen?
“Where is the bastard? You said he would be here tonight,” one of the killers said.
“I…I don’t know, sir. He said would be here,” another said, his voice higher and uncertain. His tone filled with fear.
Etienne recognized the second voice. This was the young male contact with the splinter group—PJ. Shit! This wasn’t good.
“I smelled the bastard. He isn’t local, no matter how he’s trying to fit in. I scented him before.”
“From where, sir?”
“He’s one of those fucking secret council bastards. They thought they could keep me imprisoned, shackled, and drugged.”
Inside his mind, Etienne cursed a blue streak. He realized who the bastard was in charge of the group. A male jaguar, who called himself Kaveh, thought he was invincible, almighty, and the way to fight back again
st the Conclave, all the High Alphas, and even the clan laws. The jaguar was an insane lunatic who needed to be put down. This time it would be permanent. They did the dangerous dance once and he came close to not walking away. Damn his luck, it appeared he needed to fight the SOB one more time to save his ass.
Screw the Conclave’s orders to bring the bastard back alive. Kaveh would never stand trial, let alone sit in a cage. Etienne didn’t plan on dying today.
“Please…Don’t. I didn’t do anything…” a woman pleaded.
“Shut up, bitch,” Kaveh said before he squeezed his trigger. “Where is he, PJ? Either you find him or you join them?”
“Sir, please, all this blood. I can’t find the scent.”
“You’re wasting my time. The bastard towers over everyone.”
“They’re all lying down. It’s hard.”
“Don’t give me shit for excuses. Find him! Sniff him out if you have to, but find the bastard or you get the next kill shot.”
“Yes. Yes, sir,” the cat said.
Etienne held still as they moved closer. He adjusted his grip underneath his belly, his strength draining as his essence bled out to mingle with the other victims. Underneath his lashes, he kept his eyes open to see what happened in a limited area.
Shit-kicker boots with steel-toe tips filled his vision. One nudged his wounded shoulder. Harsh pain sent waves radiating through him. Etienne forced the blackness from taking over his mind. His jaguar snarled, wanting to rip into the bastards, but he used the adrenaline to push back the agony.
“Here! This could be the cat I knew as Evan, sir!” PJ called out.
Etienne waited until another, larger pair of boots filled his vision.
“Jose, Ivan, get over here! I think we found him. I want his ass riddled with bullets as a message to the fucking Conclave bastards. I know they sent this SOB to track me down again. The source is never wrong,” Kaveh said, calling for reinforcements.
Fuck, there was a source, a snitch, inside the Conclave. How many agents would be uncovered and killed by this traitor?
Instead of hands, steel-toe tips dug into sections of his wounded body, rocked him, and flipped him over. The moment his hand could pull the gun, Etienne drew, opened his eyes, aimed, and fired. He stared down Kaveh’s cold gaze and nailed the bastard between the dead eyes as he felt hot, lancing fire sliced against his forehead. The bastard managed to return a shot.
As Kaveh crumpled in a motionless heap, Etienne heard the doors slam open as cops and active Conclave guardians rush inside. Etienne managed to keep his gun on PJ, who dropped to his knees and held his hands up.
“Don’t shoot. Please, I didn’t do any of this. Please,” he pleaded for his life.
Other guardians surrounded him, one glancing to Etienne. “Orders, sir?”
“Don’t let the kid go free. He’s part of them.”
The guardian nodded and gave orders to collect PJ and any others who stood. They went among the murder victims to check on their status.
“You bastard. We’re gonna find you, traitor cat. We’re gonna come back and kill you,” one of the members of the group shouted and cursed as he was dragged outside.
Blackness washed across his vision as he heard the curses. Etienne knew the bastard would be lucky to keep his life, let alone get out and kill him. Soon, he realized his friend and undercover connection, Paul, found him among the victims. “Late as always,” Etienne murmured to his friend.
“Yeah, we’re never on time, buddy. You get all the damn glory. Shit, man, you’re in bad shape. Hang in there, we’re here. Shit! Medic! We need a medic over here!” Paul shouted over the chaos. “Hold on, E, you did damn well, buddy, damn good.”
Etienne tried to speak, but couldn’t get a breath or move. He used the last of his energy to fight back.
“Stay with us, E. Come on, buddy. Don’t let go. Medic, where the hell are you? We have a down agent! Priority one!” Paul demanded.
Etienne let the pain and darkness take over as others rushed over.
“Etienne! No! E!” Paul said.
“We’re losing him. Paddles!” a medic shouted.
Etienne slipped into unconsciousness on another wave of pain as medics fought to save his life. In the darkness of his mind, a pair of figures moved through the smoke and fog of his mind, holding hands as they strolled toward him. One had long hair and a billowy skirt. The other was tall and strong and familiar in a vague fashion. Before they stepped out of the fog and into the light, they held their hands toward him, but he was yanked away.
* * * *
Etienne’s eyes opened to darkness, a strangled scream wrestling out of his dry throat, as he fought against the tangled mass of a cotton sheet around his legs. Instead of being drenched in blood, Etienne was covered in sweat from reliving the nightmare he managed to survive three months ago.
The nightmare changed to the mysterious couple who beckoned him out of the darkness and fog of pain. He didn’t know the female, but the male seemed so damn familiar. He wasn’t sure if it was someone from his home clan or met during one of his undercover investigates. Sometimes the dreams turned steamy, erotic even, to the point where he wake up with his cock spent and cum cooling on his chest. Yet he was always alone.
Dragging a hand down his face, Etienne blew out a breath. His body trembled as it overcame the stress and healing. He wasn’t at full capacity. His troubles didn’t stop with the shooting.
He spent another month in the hospital, struggling to heal the wounds and rebuild his strength. His cat quiet while he healed, unable to shift and run. The bastards used liquid centers in their bullets and all popped into his bloodstream before he reached the hospital, infecting him on top of the damaging wounds. Weakened, he took longer to heal and carried the physical scars.
As he went through painful physical therapy over the next two months, he dealt with the emotional and psychological issues. He was adamant about closing his case. He wasn’t about to hand the case off to someone else after all the work he put into it, including his life. He passed on the news about the possible snitch hidden either within Operations or Conclave to Paul.
The operations commander decided he wasn’t ready for active duty, stating he lost the edge and patience needed to go deep inside. His emotions and mind remained all over place. Nightmares and insomnia plagued his nights. They gave him two options—remain in his barren apartment or return to his home clan to heal and straighten out his life.
Etienne returned to an empty, sheet-covered, locked-up house. It sat unused since his parents’ deaths by a rogue attack ten years ago. He was the youngest of four cubs, the lone survivor, and the one his parents’ never spoke to after his father kicked him out. Deep in cover, he got a notice from Paul about the deaths. He asked Paul to send a business manager to handle the funeral, leftover expenses, and close the house. He decided to spend his time here with a clan he left behind, instead of sitting despondent in his apartment.
Arriving after ten in the evening, unable to contact the utilities company, he made do with what he found or had packed in his SUV. Before he dropped to the bed, he opened the windows to get some fresh air, used a few camping lanterns for light, and kept food in a cooler.
Sitting on the edge of the bed after untangling his legs, Etienne scrubbed both hands over brown hair kept in longer layers on top. He returned the strands to his natural color from the golden henna he used during the operation. His fingers brushed against the smooth scar sliced through his right temple, deep into his hairline, where the final bullet entered. This one came close to killing him. He scratched at the dark growth covering his lower face.
Needing fresh air, Etienne yanked on his jeans, snagged his cell phone from the nightstand, and moved through the dark house. He slammed his shin against a table’s edge and let out a ripe curse. After a moment to let his eyes adjust, he found his way to a cooler he left in the kitchen. He rooted inside for a water bottle, cracked it open, and went out the French doors to the patio.
Outside, he dragged a lounge chair from the stacked pile and dropped on it. He coughed as dust, pollen, and who knew what else wafted up from the cushion.
“House of despair, body a disaster, and my mind fucked. Dark moon, how perfect is my life?” Etienne lifted his bottle in a silent toast and took a long pull of the crisp, clear water. Though he wished it was a cold bottle of beer, he forbade himself alcohol.
Shoving a hand through his hair, Etienne turned on the phone, scrolled through his contacts, and hit the name he wanted.
After a few rings, a voice grumbled out of the speaker. “Do you have any idea what time it is? Dark moon, this better be a hot babe or you’re in some serious shit.”
“It’s me, Paul. I can’t stay here. I need to get back on duty. This so-called rest is giving me more issues,” Etienne said.
“Dark side of the moon, you haven’t been there one day. What are you doing calling me at…What is it? Shit…Two thirty in the damn morning.”
“Paul, listen—”
“No, you need to listen,” Paul interrupted. “You’ve been through hell and back, a long stay in the hospital, and you’re not all together. You’re not ready for a mission, and I’m still tracking the damn snitch.”
“I can’t stay here.” Etienne stared into the darkness and back at the house. “Have you seen this place? It’s empty. I have nothing here. Hell, I’ll work from a damn desk to go after the bastard. Anything. Let me get out of here.”
“Aww, the poor widdle cub is scared.”
“Screw you.”
“Hey, you called me. I can hang up on this idiotic call and go back to sleep.”
Dark Moon Dance [Fire Jaguars 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 1