Spurred Fate: Book Two: Black Claw Ranch

by Lane, Cecilia

  “Yeah, but these people want trophies. You can bag a bear on any fucking corner these days.”

  “Never seen another like her. Surprised the shit out of me when she started hissing. Kinda adorable, actually.”

  Joss wanted to scoff. Adorable? She’d bled Joyce in at least five different places. Her ex’s family called her a nasty badger for a reason and only partly because they were intolerant jerks.

  “And you’re sure you left everything where I told you? Our friends won’t wait forever.”

  There was a rustle of clothing followed by teeth ground together. “Yes. The address was left at my place. They’ll be running in the opposite direction from us.”

  “Good. I won’t have this go south.”

  “Shut up,” Joyce hissed. “She’s awake.”

  “Motherfucker. You could have said something!”

  The hood was ripped away from her face with a savage jerk that took a few strands of hair with it.

  Joss squinted at the sudden light. It hurt. Side effect from whatever she’d been injected with, maybe, but the brightness pierced her like hot rods entering through her eyes and exiting the back of her skull. She wanted the darkness again almost as badly as she needed to get her bearings.

  Andre stood closest with the black hood dangling from his fingers. Joyce perched against a counter with a smug smirk on her face.

  Joss inhaled and nearly gagged on the sterile stench of cleaning products that barely hid the underlying odor of animals.

  Cute. They’d brought the shifter to a veterinarian’s office.

  Smart, she guessed. If she happened to go all furry, they could just say she was a wild creature. Her scent would be hard to trace there, too.

  Her stomach sank with the odds of a rescue.

  “Any word from our contact?” Andre asked Joyce without turning his head.

  “Nothing yet.”

  He nodded, then pulled something from his back pocket. He crossed the short space between them and knelt at her side.

  Joss swallowed hard when he opened the pack. Inside was a row of syringes. Andre took one out.

  Shoot. She needed time. Or a distraction. Something that would keep that needle from her arm and forced sleep out of the picture. She needed to become a super spy in a matter of seconds, but all her mind wanted to focus on was the aching need to get back to Hunter.

  Man, she’d have been tossed from spy school in the first five minutes.

  Focus.

  She couldn’t make anything explode with her mind, nor could she do more than inch away from Andre. Even that was taken from her when he grabbed hold of her arm to keep her steady.

  “What are you giving me?” she blurted out.

  He rolled the needle between his fingers. “Your side ain’t the only ones experimenting. We had a head start. This here is an injection of silver and sedative. Keeps your furry side out of commission while you sleep it away.”

  “You’re a hunter.”

  A chill passed through her. He was the boogeyman of her childhood, the threat used against bad behavior, the constant warning from her parents’ lips. Hunters were a danger to supernatural kind. Some wanted them for playthings, others were happy to simply exterminate them as abominations.

  She’d gone her entire life without meeting one and now was tied up for his pleasure after being plucked out of a shifter town.

  Safety was an illusion.

  “Not the way you mean it. I’m a bounty hunter. Have been for a long while. Someone needs a man caught, I’m their guy. Recently, though, those requests have changed. The pay is out of this world.” He patted her cheek. “No hard feelings. You kill two birds. I get a fat paycheck and get to see the motherfucker Shaw in as much pain as possible.”

  They were looking for a reaction. Screaming, crying, pleading. Both their eyes bored into her. Joyce nearly bounced on her dang toes with glee. Andre smelled cruel.

  Well, she was bound and about to be drugged, which left her limited options over the rest of her probably short life. She could keep her mouth shut and deny them something they wanted.

  Joss cocked her head and blinked. Thoughts of pinning them to the ground and stabbing them full of drugs and gnawing off their soft bits ran rampant through her mind. Use her to hurt Hunter? She wanted to let her badger loose on their sorry rears.

  When everything else felt like wholesale ruin, seeing their faces turn into thunderclouds felt like a victory.

  Andre’s eyes narrowed before dipping back to her arm. He raised the needle.

  “Andre. It’s them.” Joyce held out the phone.

  With a grimace, he pushed to his feet and stomped toward Joyce. He snatched the phone from her and punctuated a jerk of his chin with an order. “Watch her.”

  Joss tracked Andre. Fur brushed faintly against the back of her mind. So soft, she thought she’d imagined it.

  Andre took the phone and read a message on the screen.

  If he could just take a little longer. She couldn’t be certain, but the ties on her wrists and ankles didn’t sting like silver. He didn’t seem dumb enough to keep her contained without that. Then again, she had silver coursing through her veins.

  And growing weaker by the second.

  Her badger pushed against her mind, stronger than before. Confused, and pissed about it.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry.

  Joss dropped her eyes to the ground. She didn’t want to give away any signs of something going wrong for them.

  Andre typed out a message with his big, dumb, sausage fingers and turned. His smile didn’t meet his eyes. “They’re ready for us.”

  He crossed the room quickly, knelt down, and jabbed the needle into her shoulder.

  Joss winced against the wave of nausea that settled in her stomach. Closing her eyes helped, but she didn’t want to give over to the drugs so easily. Even as her limbs tingled and went dead, she tried to wiggle toes and fingers and hold on to the will to keep fighting.

  She lost the battle, and the world went dark again.

  Chapter 22

  Hunter rubbed at his wrists and glared at the men sitting across from him. He was looking for his mate, trying to track her down, and these assholes wanted to take him in for questioning? No wonder the Supernatural Enforcement Agency was in fucking shambles.

  “Let’s go through it again,” Agent Asshole said patiently.

  “I told you already. Someone took Joss. Ask anyone down at the bar. She was there, then she wasn’t.”

  His bear slashed at his insides. Images from the sending rolled through Hunter’s mind. Running, chasing, catching. They had to get her back.

  “And why would that lead you to break into the cabin of a man with known connections to hunter groups?”

  “Because he’s the one that fucking took her!” Hunter smacked the table between them. His breath heaved in his lungs. “Him and Joyce Farren. Smell me. See if I’m lying.”

  His skin felt too tight, even when he rolled his shoulders to ease some of the tension. They were wasting precious time. Joss was out there somewhere, maybe hurt or worse, and these fuckheads just kept lobbing questions at him like he’d sent her on her merry way. That didn’t even address the fact that his father had taken a bullet or the rest of his clan being cuffed and hauled in for questioning while the real criminals sped away.

  He thought there would be some understanding when he realized the agents decked out in black uniforms and carrying utility belts that’d rival any comic book hero were all shifters. But no. The fucking traitors were even bigger assholes than the regular human SEA pricks.

  At least these ones hadn’t tried to murder him or throw him into Shiftermax with all the other monsters.

  Special Asshole in Charge Crewe fixed him with a steady gaze. Nothing seemed to fluster the man. “What do you know about Andre Chapman?”

  “He’s from Texas. I ran into some trouble with him a few years back.” Hunter’s mouth twisted. Even if he wasn’t being dragged off to prison, he w
asn’t about to tell a fed of any past crimes. “I guess he’s been bounty hunting since then.”

  “His bounties have taken on a different light since we were outed. He’s procuring shifters for those who aren’t willing to hunt them themselves. It’s a new wave of sick, trophy fuckery.”

  Hunters were a menace and had only gotten vocal about it since humans were made aware they weren’t alone in the world. Rumor had it even the SEA itself was created by the assholes with the purpose of streamlining the destruction of anything different.

  All that was before public outrage forced policy changes. Now groups of shifters and vampires were fighting for the man. Hunter didn’t give it long before the whole thing blew up in their faces.

  “And he sold Joss into this shit. So why the fuck are we sitting around?” Fuck, he wanted to shift. Needed it. Needed to taste the blood of anyone standing between him and his mate.

  Andre, that motherfucker, wasn’t just a run of the mill prick. He’d thrown in his lot with scum that wanted to own others for their own disgusting pleasure. He’d pay for every scratch that marred Joss’s skin.

  “We’ve been tracking him and had a lead on where his next meet would take place.”

  “Well, you had it wrong. He hasn’t been to that cabin for days. You all got played and my mate is still out there.” A growl tickled in his throat and he shoved to his feet. “Since you can’t find your ass with two hands, I’ll just be taking my leave now.”

  The door banged open and another steely-eyed shifter blocked the path out. Hunter rounded on him, gums already aching with the press of fangs. They wanted to keep him from his mate?

  “Crewe.”

  The voice came from another behind the one at the door. A small, blonde woman pushed through. She assessed the situation with a single flick of her eyes, then dismissed them all and focused on Crewe.

  Hunter canted his head. Human on the shifter squad. Curious.

  Crewe turned cold eyes on the interloper. “What?” he growled.

  She didn’t react. “We have a hit.”

  Hunter jerked to attention. The air disappeared from the room. “You found her. You know where she is.”

  The woman flicked her eyes to him, then back to Crewe.

  “Go on,” Crewe said.

  She straightened and folded her hands behind her back. “We know where this bounty hunter is meeting potential buyers. We don’t know any more details than that.”

  “Bullshit,” Hunter snarled.

  “Have the others gear up, Kent,” Crewe ordered. As soon as she disappeared out the door, taking the other shifter with her, Crewe’s face softened. “If she’s there, she’ll be free to go as soon as we find her. We’re not the monsters here, Mr. Shaw. We’re actually trying to do some good.”

  “Then let me go. I can help.”

  “You’re a civilian. You have zero combat or tactical training. You’re not authorized to take part in any operation—”

  “She’s my fucking mate! I need to be there!” Hunter roared.

  Any good will he had disappeared from Crewe’s face. He stood and walked to the door. “You’ll be apprised of the situation when we return.”

  The door shutting him in felt like the closure of a tomb. He was dead without Joss. He’d had a glimpse of life with her, and now he was dead.

  He tried the door. Locked, of course.

  He couldn’t stop moving. Pacing like a caged animal. What he needed wasn’t inside his bars.

  “Fuck!” The inhuman howl that exited his throat wasn’t good enough. His skin prickled with too much energy and nowhere to put it.

  Hunter slammed his fist into the nearest wall. The crack of pain didn’t stop him from doing it again, then again.

  Useless. He was fucking useless locked up in a box while she needed help. He didn’t trust the agents to keep her safety in mind. She would be just another statistic to them if something went wrong. Acceptable loss of life.

  Not to him. To him, she was everything.

  He wasn’t sure how long he waited. His bear ripped him to shreds every second, and he pieced himself back together every other. Then he heard a sound that cocked his head.

  Footsteps.

  Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

  Nerves clamored for an acknowledgment he wouldn’t give.

  They were back too soon. Something had gone wrong.

  The footsteps stopped outside his door. The keypad on the other side beeped and the lock disengaged.

  A woman with brownish-red hair stood in the opening with her hands on her hips.

  Mara, he thought. She was mated to one of the Strathorns that worked at the firehouse. She’d made a giant fuss for herself a couple years ago, then disappeared into obscurity until she’d been attacked in Bearden itself. He eyed the badge pinned to her respectable blazer. Consultant. Surprising to see her working for the same people that tried to have her killed.

  “Well, are you coming, or not?”

  Hunter didn’t need to be told a second time. He hurried after her down the new-construction smelling halls and past empty offices. “Why are you doing this? Letting me go?”

  “I respect Crewe. I understand what he’s doing here in trying to make us seem more like them.” Her expression clouded. “But humans don’t understand this part of it. She’s your mate. There’s nothing in this world that would keep me from mine, especially if he was in danger.”

  She pulled to a stop in front of a door with a keypad next to it. Detainment, he guessed. Mara punched a series of keys into the keypad. The lock activated, and she pulled the door open. The rest of the clan, minus his father, sat along a bench or on the floor. All of them snapped their focus to the door.

  “Out,” she said with a jerk of her head.

  “What’s going on?” Ethan asked from his spot on the bench attached to the wall.

  “You’re not under arrest or being held for questioning. Not my problem if we legally can’t hold you.” Mara shrugged, then firmly pressed a note against Hunter’s chest and tapped it with her fingers. “And if it is, they can take this job and shove it. Go get your girl.”

  * * *

  The note Mara gave him led the clan to a piece of property on the other side of the mountains. They found vehicles marked with Supernatural Enforcement Agency insignia about two miles down the road.

  The Black Claw clan stepped out of their own trucks. Hunter scanned the woods around them. No sound. Fresh scents, but nothing to say they were being watched.

  “Anyone know this place?” Ethan asked.

  Heads shook all around. Enclave territory, they knew. Hidden holes outside of that were beyond them.

  “Then we go carefully. We’re not here to fuck anything up. We’re here to find Joss and get out.”

  They kept off the road, moving silently through trees and scrub. The scents of other shifters were easy to follow as they edged up a hill.

  Hunter’s bear wanted to shed his human side and race ahead.

  At the crest, they looked out over someone’s hidden getaway. Trees were placed in ornamental spots around manicured gardens. The place looked bigger than Black Claw’s main house, though it spread out more than built up. Lights were on inside, but he couldn’t see anyone moving past the windows.

  The stink of fur hung all around him, but he couldn’t spot where the agents were hidden. At least they weren’t shouting for him to get back, or snapping silver around his wrists.

  Scratch that. There. Under one window, he saw a flash of movement.

  Another, near a van parked out front.

  He scanned the property again and picked out more statues with guns.

  Hunter stepped forward, but Ethan flung out his arm. “Hold.”

  He tensed at the order. A growl worked out of his throat. Joss needed him.

  His alpha slid a silver-eyed look to him. Power infused his words. “Hold, I say.”

  Hunter’s bear wanted to buck the order. Pushing for control of the clan seemed a swell idea when
one man stood between him and tracking down his mate.

  He struggled to keep his bear in check. For several tense minutes, they stood in a line hidden by the trees and darkness. Nothing calmed the blood racing in his veins, not even the breeze rustling through the leaves or the men at his side occasionally brushing against him to offer reassurance with physical touch. He couldn’t stop the racing thoughts, either.

  Joss was down there. Joss needed him.

  Joss could be hurt.

  Then there was a shout, followed by another.

  “Go,” Ethan said softly.

  As one, they stepped into the fight.

  The doors were kicked in at the same time. Black-clad figures poured into the light. Bursts of gunfire punctuated the commands to stop, get on the ground, put hands in the air. Trained they might be, the overall raid sounded like chaos in action.

  Not that it was any of his concern. The buyers could live or die. The SEA agents, too. He wanted Joss alive.

  They slunk from trees to gardens, keeping low when possible and all-out sprinting when not. Hunter kept his eyes on the house. He felt each bullet fired like it ripped through his own flesh. Any one of them could find a home in Joss’s body. He couldn’t handle the thought of finally finding her in a pool of blood. Didn’t the motherfucking agents have any discipline?

  His bear caught the first whiff. Subtle, like a memory. Then stronger as he neared the house. A trail, a full trail grabbing him by the nose and tugging him forward.

  “She was here.”

  Were those his words? They sounded muted and underwater.

  The crack of cocking weapons sounded loud in the night. Motherfuckers got the drop on them.

  “Stop!”

  “Hands up!”

  “We’re with you!” Alex shouted back. “Fucking smell us, assholes!”

  “Hands up!”

  Hunter snarled. Ethan whirled on him and shoved him back. “Go! We’ll keep them off you. Find her!”

  His clothes shredded around him as his bear ripped out of his skin. Nose to the ground, he took off into the night at a dead run. Cinnamon and apples and perfection. He had it in his lungs, and he’d follow it to the source.