Scent Of A Mate: League Of Gallize Shifters

by Dianna Love

  Vic suggested, “Or they could have dropped women here to leave for someone else.”

  “Or the truck could just be late. Only one way to know,” Adrian murmured. “I’ll go look.”

  “No.” Scarlett surprised everyone with that, even Gan.

  “Why not?” Adrian demanded. “I’m normally the first to insert.”

  Gan didn’t understand her refusal either, but he didn’t like Adrian questioning her. “She is in charge. You agreed.”

  Adrian growled at him.

  Scarlett’s look of thanks to Gan lifted his spirits. He’d gotten something right.

  She explained, “I’ll go.”

  “No.” The word jumped out of Gan’s mouth before he could think, but she was not going down there without someone watching her back. Namely, him.

  Her moment of appreciation dissolved under an acidic scowl. “You don’t get a vote. As you just pointed out, I’m in charge.”

  “Is bad idea to go alone.”

  “The idea of some time alone sounds good right now,” she shot back at him.

  Vic’s too-sharp gaze flicked from Gan to Scarlett then back to Gan.

  Adrian huffed out a deep breath and sat on the ground. “What exactly is the mission at this point?”

  Vic opened his mouth, but Scarlett jumped in first. “I’m going down there to do recon. If no one is in that house or barn, then this is a bust.” She had a sick look on her face at that possibility.

  Vic looked past her at the too-quiet property. “What if you find captives down there? Are we extracting them now?”

  “Yes, but I’ll free them first so they’ll be calm before any males walk in.”

  Gan didn’t know why, but he sensed she had not shared all her thoughts. Did she hide something?

  Did he really know?

  He hadn’t been trained as a shifter or for any of this. His suspicious reaction could be nothing more than wanting to argue against her going alone.

  “The truck could be late and show up in the middle of the extraction,” Adrian pointed out. “If the captives have titanium neck cuffs, they won’t be able to shift and protect themselves.”

  Gan could see the wolf’s point, and hated to admit that, but he agreed with Scarlett about rescuing those women as soon as possible.

  “I realize that, Adrian.” Scarlett spoke with a calm voice. “That’s why I need you and Vic to scout the entrance road back to the highway and give me a heads-up if a truck shows. If so, I’ll figure out how to secure the captives while we deal with the kidnappers.”

  Scarlett’s plan sounded fine, except for not acknowledging that Gan would be her backup.

  That was his plan.

  His tiger bumped him, but not hard. In fact, it felt like a nudge of approval. Gan shook it off as another misread on his senses. His tiger never agreed with any decision Gan made.

  Adrian shifted a look in Vic’s direction. “Does that work for you?”

  Scarlett’s calm gaze sharpened. “Careful, wolf. This is not a Gallize operation and Vic is not in charge.”

  “Understood, Scarlett, but we answer to the Guardian. I’m not disrespecting your position, just making sure that my CO has nothing to add.”

  Gan’s tiger said, Kill wolf! Protect her.

  Clenching and unclenching his hands, Gan forced his irritated tiger to stay put. His chest muscles were tight, holding his form against the battering he suffered. He didn’t like the way Adrian had challenged Scarlett, but he couldn’t deal with a screwed-up wolf and a crazy tiger at the same time.

  Vic’s gaze shot to Gan’s fists. “We’re following your lead, Scarlett. Adrian and I can cover the road, but you should have backup.”

  “She has this. I will go,” Gan said, shutting down any argument, at least in his mind.

  All three said, “No.”

  Scarlett rubbed her forehead. “First of all, I’m not some vulnerable female. Nor am I stupid. I’m not going to walk alone into a building filled with shifter guards. You haven’t been in a situation like this, Gan. That’s why the Guardian wants you to observe. Besides getting yourself killed, you put the rest of us in danger by not knowing how these operations work. Just listen in on your headset and pay attention. Other than that, you don’t have a role today.”

  Anger churned in his gut.

  His tiger scratched and growled.

  So much for Scarlett’s presence calming the beast.

  But she had just humiliated him when he offered to protect her back and help rescue the women.

  He didn’t understand being a shifter. If not for the tiger stuck inside, he would not be here. This was not the time to get sidetracked by a woman who did not want him around.

  The three of them wanted to go down there without him?

  He would let them.

  He had offered to make good on his debt to Scarlett and been refused. That cleared his mind of any guilt. He offered to help save women, but all three treated him as an idiot or child.

  Scarlett’s lack of respect pained him the most.

  He had been a fool to think she cared for him. She might like him sexually, but he really thought she saw him differently than camp women. Maybe not.

  Lesson learned. Trusting shifters was never smart.

  Time for him to stick to the only plan that mattered.

  Seeing that logging truck on the way in reminded him of when he’d cut trees one summer with other prisoners. Everyone in the camps worked at whatever they were told to do. He might not know much about modern life, but he understood living off the land.

  While these three were busy sneaking down the road and around that farm, he would remain to observe ... for a few minutes. Then, he would backtrack to the highway where logging trucks were running. With his shifter speed, he could catch one as it passed him and leap onto the load.

  That should get him out of the area quickly without leaving an easy trail to track.

  Chapter 9

  Scarlett weaved her way through the trees bordering the land cleared for an attractive country home with a tall barn a hundred feet deep. When she’d reached a spot in the trees at the closest point to the house, she dashed for the back porch, heart racing. She forced her body to relax and not televise her presence to a shifter.

  Tiptoeing across the worn wooden planks to the screen door shielding a closed wood door, she paused to glance behind her and listen.

  Chica grumbled, Mean to tiger.

  Stuff it, cat, Scarlett sent back silently. He would be in danger down here.

  Stupid. You lose him. Chica loved to get the last word.

  Damn cougar picked the worst time to start some crap. What had she meant by lose him? She didn’t have him to begin with, but she’d fix this when she got back to Gan.

  She could do without an additional helping of guilt. Yes, she’d seen hurt flash through Gan’s eyes before he wiped away any emotion, leaving cold anger in its place.

  She hadn’t meant to insult him.

  She’d only wanted to keep him safe.

  If not for stress over the status of the female shifters, Scarlett would have done a better job explaining to Gan, which she’d do when she saw him again. At least he’d still be alive for her to make amends. He had no idea how crazy some shifters could be, especially if they were jacked up on Black River Pack drugs.

  Two steps from the screen door, she picked up a nasty stench.

  What the hell?

  Listening first for voices or footsteps, and hearing none, she eased the unlocked back door open and slipped inside what appeared to be a mudroom. Still smelled bad, worse actually. Two steps forward, she reached the door to the kitchen and opened it slowly.

  Disgusting odor clouded her face.

  Bile raced up her throat.

  She slapped her hand over her mouth and ran out to the porch, gasping for air.

  She knew that stench.

  Death.

  Probably the humans who had lived here until predators showed up and killed t
hem. Could have been a day ago, based on what she smelled.

  This definitely fit the MO of the Pagan Nomads. They rarely used a location more than once. That chaotic movement of never staying in one place too long had kept them out of her reach.

  The Pagan Nomads had finally made a mistake and she intended to capitalize on it.

  She would bonus the contact who had gotten her this location so quickly.

  Forget the house.

  Not that these shifters wouldn’t stash their prisoners in a place where the women would suffer that disgusting odor. Those bastards would do it if the jackal shifters didn’t have to also suffer breathing that tainted air.

  Drawing in a couple quick breaths through her mouth only, she made her way off the porch and around the house where the shade darkened each minute. On the other side of the house, she faced having to cross a long open space to the gigantic barn.

  Chica piped up. Not good. Leave.

  Scarlett shook her head and sent back to Chica, We have never saved women from a good place.

  Feels wrong.

  What had set off Chica more than normal?

  She sniffed the air, focusing on identifying everything from the new growth on trees and fresh cut straw to the natural smell of horses. She liked horses, but they normally backed away from her the minute they realized she only looked human.

  Animals sensed a predator.

  The horses she’d seen when she first arrived were still huddled together. From this point, it was clear they stood in the back corner of the paddock.

  The farthest point from the barn.

  Could that be a sign the animals smelled shifters in the barn?

  The equine fear might be what Chica had picked up on from the mixed scents Scarlett inhaled.

  With daylight tossing in the towel, the twilight would help shield her movements. Taking quick steps across the opening, she reached the barn and stopped, watching in every direction. Vic and Adrian would have the road covered.

  Just as Adrian suggested, the truck could be late.

  A tingle ran along her spine.

  That could be nothing more than excitement at possibly catching members of the Pagan Nomads tonight.

  Two large doors on the green metal barn were closed with no lock in place, but that seemed natural for a farm. She’d have been more concerned if the building had been secured.

  A walk-in door had been installed on the left side where she went next.

  Placing one hand against the door to keep it from opening too quickly, she turned the knob and pulled. A tiny creak sounded. Her pulse jumped.

  Any sound traveled farther for shifters.

  She listened.

  Nothing. She’d expect to hear murmurs, chain clinking, something to indicate life if the female prisoners were being held here.

  Were they already gone?

  Her stomach dropped. She’d never find Jaz now.

  Regardless, she had to clear this building for sure. Pulling the door wide enough for her to enter, she opened all her senses. Scents of saddle soap, horse, hay, and dust hung in the dormant air.

  And a weak scent of human sweat. Not that old, which supported her thought that the humans were killed during the last twenty-four hours.

  Could captives still be here? She remained very still, focusing only on her sense of smell. There ... she caught a lingering scent of shifters. Not strong enough for her to identify anyone, but shifters had been here.

  Stay out, Chica warned.

  Damn cat. But her cougar knew things at times. Without moving a muscle or making a sound, Scarlett replied, Why, dammit? We have to find Jaz. There could be some clue for finding her and the others.

  Not safe. Get tiger.

  Scarlett wanted to scream when her cat got stuck on one track. Really? You want to bring up Gan now? What about saving the women?

  Stop! Get tiger now!

  No. Looks like the captives are gone. Be quiet so I can focus on searching this place for any intel, Chica. Why would I bring Gan here when he can’t even use his nose?

  You stupid. Tiger will leave.

  That’s what had her cat worked up? Gan wouldn’t just walk off without a word, would he? Maybe. He complained about being a prisoner again.

  Scarlett’s heart jumped.

  Nothing, not one thing, was ever simple.

  She couldn’t get distracted. She didn’t think Gan could drive after spending his life in camps, so even if he went back he wouldn’t go far.

  Screw it. She’d let her cougar have the last word, again, just to shut the cat up if she wasn’t going to help.

  As her sensitive shifter eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness with so little light filtering through skylights, she took a quick assessment. The barn definitely had held shifters at some point.

  Dammit.

  Alert and on her toes, she looked from side to side as she headed down the center walkway separating stalls that lined both sides. Dust and loose hay covered the wood planks here and there. The deeper she went into the building, the more she sensed the smell might be fairly fresh, as if they’d been here recently, but not strong enough to indicate they were here now.

  Saddles were stacked on the right wall with other riding gear. An indoor shower stall large enough for a horse stood clean and dry on her left. These horses had it better than a lot of people.

  Scarlett moved through the walkway, inspecting each empty stall as she made her way toward the rear. A finger of warning tapped down her spine. What had happened here? At the far end of the barn, a second set of barn doors and single walk-in access mirrored the end she’d entered through.

  She paused at a muffled sound. Could be the building, but she didn’t think so. She glanced all the way around, waited for the sound to repeat.

  When it didn’t, she eased forward on soft boot taps.

  At a third of the way into the structure, a second twitch of noise sent her heart rate spiking. That had not been the building.

  She drew her weapon along with a couple deep breaths to steady her. Never good to allow her heart rate to race when hunting predators.

  Chica slapped at her insides. Call tiger!

  Shit. Had her cat been picking up on a threat and not just nattering about Gan?

  Now would be the worst time to even whisper into her comm gear.

  Scarlett started to pin her cat down for specifics, but her gaze reached inside the next stall, freezing her.

  Seconds slowed as she realized the captives were here.

  There were ten women piled across the stall, blindfolded, and with horse blankets wrapped around each one. That had camouflaged their shifter smell. All of them wore titanium collars. Rope had been wrapped tightly around the blankets to mute any noise. Their mouths had been sealed with duct tape.

  Chica banged her insides. Run! Run! Run!

  Boots slapped the boards at both ends of the building.

  One glance confirmed her worst fear. Four jackal shifters in human form blocked the exits.

  She’d been lured into a trap.

  Chapter 10

  Scarlett kept perfectly still with her gun still raised. She could take out both jackals facing her but not before the two behind her took her down.

  One of the jackals, evidently their leader, walked toward her, leaving his partner thirty feet away. The two on the opposite end were farther back than that.

  She hoped his boot steps pounding through the building would cover her whispered words as she kept her lips still. “I’m trapped in barn.”

  Just short of six feet tall, the ruddy-skinned jackal shifter with a dusting of beard and a man bun of wiry red hair paused his forward motion. He touched his ear and chuckled before closing the distance.

  Showing off a grand smile, he asked, “Think your two buddies are going to come save you, Rambo Bitch?”

  Damn.

  He knocked her gun aside and snatched off her headset. Claws jutting out from his fingers sliced across her ear.

  That had bee
n intentional.

  She gritted her teeth, but sucked down any reaction.

  Chica had stilled. For an easily distracted cougar, she knew when they were in deep trouble.

  Grinning, he spoke as if they met to talk over drinks. “You can call me Carver. We’ve been trying to catch you for a whiii-ul.” He dragged out the word with a Southern twang, but his accent had a fake ring. Evidently he didn’t think so, because he stuck with it. “Took some time to set this up. Did you really think that squirrelly informant would find out about this location and our operation unless we wanted him to?”

  She cursed.

  He said, “Hey, it’s not nice to speak badly of the dead. He had no idea he was a cog in a well-designed operation.”

  When she put all of this together, the realization hit her with the power of a fastball to the head. The Pagan Nomads must have been planning this for months, taking time to test one of her resources to determine they could get the results they wanted.

  The amount of effort and preparation to catch her should be flattering. Nope. Not feeling proud to be a prize.

  Had those men with the over-the-road trailer known who they’d almost captured and had that triggered this setup? Or had the Pagan Nomads been sending teams out with trailers, just waiting for her to stumble in?

  The poor guy who had fed her intel for years from this area was dead.

  These female shifters were sacrificial.

  As for her? She could not be taken alive.

  Scarlett glanced to her right.

  When she found Jazlyn, the wolf shifter had worked her blindfold down on one side probably by rubbing it on the hard wood.

  She peered back through a swollen and bloody eye. She shook her head at Scarlett, sending a message to save herself. There was no hope for them.

  “See what happens when you interfere with our business, bitch?” Carver’s bushy red eyebrows climbed high with the taunt.

  Chica waited at the edge for Scarlett to release her. Kill jackal. Rip head off.

  Scarlett would like nothing better, but Carver and his men hadn’t killed her for a reason. That meant she had a window of time to figure her way out of this if she had any idea how.