by Dana Archer
“Different places. Different owners. The last few years, he’s been a contender in cage fights.”
“Eli did well in those fights, didn’t he?”
“Very well. He even earned a nickname.”
“Yeah?” The careful way Dante’s revealing the details about Eli sets me on edge. “What is it?”
“Killer.” Dante licks his lips. “He’s messed up in the head, Ilan. Really messed up. Everyone says he’s feral.”
Then Eli’s a dead man walking. It’s only a matter of time before an assassin is given his name and scent. Once an angel of death has it, there’ll be no escape for Eli.
“You don’t agree with their assessment, do you?”
A pleading look settles in Dante’s eyes. “Eli has blood on his hands. Too much blood. He was forced to kill whoever was locked in the cage with him. His death or theirs. Eli chose theirs every time.”
“And it’s stained his soul.” Only the most twisted men relishes death, glorying in the taking of life. Everyone else, including those like me and Dante, understands death is a part of life. Sometimes it must come sooner than naturally expected, however. That’s when an angel gets involved.
“Yes.” Dante pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m too emotionally involved to help him. I can’t reach him. His mind’s not all there. He doesn’t remember his own name, let alone mine.”
“Can he control his actions now that he’s not with the cage fighters?” That’d be the factor used to deem whether he’d be offered a cell where he could safely recover or whether he’d lose his head immediately.
“Eli protected a human female while he was with the cage fighters. Made sure nobody raped or hurt her.”
I stare at Dante the way I did when he was training and not doing what I told him to do. I don’t say anything. There’s no need. Dante will remember what’s expected of him.
He cracks his neck and works his jaw before meeting my eyes. “Sometimes.”
“And sometimes not.”
Dante’s sharp nod confirms my assumption.
Before that moment when I found Mya crying on Sara’s shoulder, I would’ve told Dante the harsh truth he doesn’t want to hear. I can’t bring myself to do it, knowing it’ll cause my protégé pain. This is Sara’s doing. She doesn’t even know this power she holds over me. I sigh. “Is Eli being kept on Winchester pack lands?”
“Yes.” Dante stands straighter. “You’ll help him, then?”
“I’m not promising anything. If he’s too far gone, death is the kindest thing.”
Dante grips my arm. “Corey blames herself for what happened to Eli. He was trying to protect her when he was captured. If an angel of death gets his name, she’ll never forgive herself.”
Oh yeah, I’m not the only one suffering from the effects of meeting his true mate. I’d bet Dante doesn’t like weighing his actions against how his true mate would judge him for them any more than I do. No wonder he left the Winchester pack behind and embraced life as an angel of death. Distance numbs those annoying triggers that make us want to be worthy men.
Distance isn’t a luxury I can embrace any time soon, especially if I agree to work with Eli. Then again, I’ve got a kid to think about now too. And that’s not something I ever thought I’d have to deal with.
“Let me see Eli, and then I’ll let you know if he’s salvageable, okay?”
Dante gives a sharp nod and drops his hand. “I’m in your debt.”
Those are dangerous words to give another shifter. For Dante to offer them before I even see Eli answers the question Dante carefully avoided moments ago.
Eli’s feral.
Now the trick is whether I can channel that side of Eli, teaching him to deal with the rage, before someone outside the Winchester pack orders Eli’s death.
Five
Sara
Assembling baby furniture while a massive tiger watches the newborn I left sleeping peacefully on the floor a few feet away has got to be one of the most stressful things I’ve ever done. And that includes being attacked by a lion. This moment is also the strangest too. I never thought I’d find myself talking to a tiger as if he could understand every word I was saying. But I am. I’m not dreaming.
This is real.
Uri’s twin is the tiger behind me. Just as Ilan was the wolf who saved me. I watched him shift. I cleaned the blood and dirt from my hands. I looked into the eyes of this beautiful baby boy and couldn’t deny the resemblance to the man who’s held a place in my dreams since the day I met him.
With a sheet on the portable bassinet’s mattress and the mobile of wildlife cutouts attached to the side, I push to my feet and face Ezra. “Thank you for watching the baby while I put this together.”
No answer. Ezra doesn’t even flick his tail.
A deep breath steadies me even though I can’t really say I’m afraid. Trying to carry on a conversation with a tiger leaves me agitated, however. I was raised to make sure my guests were comfortable, and Ezra hasn’t given me any indication of what would make him feel at home.
I scoop up the baby, carry him to the bassinet, and lay him gently in the center. He wakes, and those unique eyes meet mine. A happy sound and a stretch as he arches lets me know his belly is still full and happy dreams await him. A moment later, his eyelids lower on a soft exhale. I smile.
Soon he’ll outgrow this tiny bed, but for the moment, he looks precious and innocent lying in the center of the mattress. Even knowing he’ll grow into a powerful man like Ilan doesn’t dim these qualities. Or change the fact that this baby is helpless. Right now, this child needs love and protection. He’ll get both. I plan on making sure of it.
Ilan and I need to have a long talk. This baby’s parents need to be found if they’re still alive. From what I’ve seen so far, Ilan’s world is a dangerous one.
I glance over my shoulder. Ezra hasn’t moved from the spot he’s chosen near the stairs. “I know this sounds…odd”—more like crazy—“but can I get you a bowl of water? Maybe some leftover steak? There’s not a lot, but it’s cooked rare.”
More silence. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I can’t help hoping Ezra will speak to me.
Head tilted, I study him. “Is there a reason you won’t shift and talk to me? If it’s because you’re going to be naked, I have some big towels. You can wrap one around yourself. I promise not to ogle you or anything.”
The tip of Ezra’s tail flicks. Rapidly. I can’t help but think I’ve annoyed him with my question.
“I’m assuming you know what I’m saying so I won’t insult your intelligence.” I rub my thumb over my chin. “So I’m going to assume there’s something about your human body you don’t want me to see.”
His tail stills in midair.
Ah-ha! Now, the question is, what? “I won’t be shocked by the way you look, if that’s what you’re worried about. Looks are superficial anyway.”
Ezra pushes to his feet, walks by me, rubbing against my leg as he passes, and settles in front of the bassinet. He lays his head on his paws. His eyes close.
I’ve been dismissed. I don’t need him to tell me that.
On a sigh, I head to the kitchen and clean the bottles I used to mix the formula. With that done, I turn and face my kitchen. Diapers and other supplies are spread out on my table. All need to be put away, but my gaze settles on my purse. I dig out my phone and pull up Mya’s number. I can’t help but wonder if she knows the truth about Uri. Her new husband is his partner in the special task force unit located nearby. They’re involved in government work, according to Mya. Special cases, top-secret projects. All things she couldn’t really tell me about.
Now I know why.
Too bad calling Mya in the middle of the night while she’s on her honeymoon is out of the question. Rick, Mya, and her daughters were flying out tonight for a week of relaxing at a resort in Alaska.
The creak of my porch stairs draws my gaze to the kitchen door. Ilan had said he’d be gone for hours. That I should
n’t expect him back until the morning and should get some sleep once the baby was settled. I glance at the clock. Who else would be coming to my house at four o’clock in the morning?
A large palm slaps over my mouth. A man presses his lips to my ear. “Open the kitchen door. I can’t do it.”
Ezra. It has to be him. There’s no one else in the house.
He releases me. I steal a quick glance at him, focusing on his face. I have no desire to see his nakedness. His hair is half black, half honey-blond, parted down the middle. But it’s his eyes that stop my heart for the briefest of moments. Beautiful. The pale blue color is so light his eyes look translucent. He turns his head to look at me but his gaze doesn’t focus on me. Because he can’t.
Ezra’s blind.
“Sara, now.”
The urgency in Ezra’s deep growling voice propels me into action. I lunge for the door, fumbling with the lock, and pull it open. The striped tiger that had watched my every move lunges through the storm door. The sound of glass breaking mixes with another man’s curse.
The man with the tiger on top of him flies over the side of my porch, cracking the railing. The loud crash echoes through the night. I rush onto the porch as a light turns on next door and my neighbor steps outside.
With his hair standing on end, he turns his dopey-eyed gaze to me. “You okay, Sara? I heard glass breaking.”
The slur to his voice registers. He’s been drinking. I nod and inch my way to the edge of the porch. There’s no dead body—human or animal—on the ground. No sign of Ezra in his tiger or human form. There’s nobody in sight. Only the broken wood from my smashed railing is scattered on the ground. I glance at the open gate to my yard, then nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
My neighbor moves to the edge of his patio and sways as he looks over the side. “You sure?”
“Uh-huh. I got a little angry with the television show I was watching and tossed my TV.” I smile and hope he’s too drunk to realize there’s no smashed television on the ground. “Sorry I woke you.”
“It’s okay. See you later.”
He stumbles back inside. The light goes out. A rough grunt sounds from below the porch.
“Ezra.” I rush inside, locking the door behind me, and hurry to the ground floor. Digging my heels in, I grab the handle of the metal door and tug, stumbling backward the moment it opens. Ezra, in his tiger form, walks through.
I lock the door behind him and follow him up the stairs to the kitchen. He stops by the kitchen table where I left my purse, then shifts. The blurry image of the black-and-blond-haired man I spoke to moments ago blends with the tiger’s image. In the next heartbeat, the tiger is gone, and a very naked man’s bare behind greets me.
My cheeks warming, I yank my attention to his unusual hair. “Who was that guy?”
Ezra smacks his hand against the table, knocking the bag of diapers and a tube of diaper rash cream to the floor before grabbing my phone. He turns to me and holds it out. “Call Ilan and tell him to get back here now.”
I stare at the phone but don’t take it. “I don’t have Ilan’s number.”
He holds it out farther. “Then call Mya. I know you have hers. Or Josh. Somebody needs to get in touch with Ilan before the shifter whose throat I almost tore out comes back. I’m too inadequate to protect an innocent in this environment.”
I take the phone from Ezra. “You did fine. Nobody died, and the baby is safe.”
“This time. We got lucky. The coward ran. But next time?” Ezra laughs. The bitter sound tightens my throat. “Next time, I might not be able to use your porch to hide my tiger’s form. I’ll have to shift. And what good is a blind, naked man going to do when it comes to protecting you and the kid? I’ll end up getting myself arrested for indecency or something.”
It hurts to admit but he’s right. I can’t risk this baby’s life. He’s relying on us to keep him safe. “Okay. I’ll call Josh.”
“You can talk to Mira then too. Our kids eat a lot more than normal babies. Teeth sooner too. Not sure what else is different. Mira will know, though.”
My finger stills above the contacts folder on my phone. I glance at Ezra even though I know he can’t see me. “Mira knows about shifters too?”
“Mira is a shifter.”
All the times I talked to Mira over the past year flash across my mind. She seemed so normal, so sweet, so perfect for Josh. I wet my dry lips. “Is Josh a shifter too?”
“Not exactly.” Amusement skips across Ezra’s face. “But his soon-to-be adopted daughters are.”
“Megan and Molly?” I don’t know why I say their names. They’re the only little girls Josh has in his life.
“Yep. Peyton and Rey are too.”
The phone I’m holding shakes. I swallow hard. “So Rick and Mya—”
“Are shifters too, but they’re singles, not Royals.”
“Singles.” Ilan mentioned those briefly. “They only have one animal. Royals have three.”
“Yeah. Rick and Mya are good people, though. Honorable, not like many I’ve known over my life. A lot of the single shifters in this area are decent. Worthy, you know? I don’t doubt they’ll raise their kids the same way.”
No, I don’t know. Not exactly. I grab on to the back of a kitchen chair, then drop my bottom on the seat before my legs give out. “How many other people I know are shifters?”
“Lots, probably. The Black Widow is one of the only places in this section of the state where shifters from all groups congregate. It’s on neutral ground. This whole town, including your house, is neutral territory. Any shifter can come here, live here, and not worry they’ll be attacked for trespassing on shifter grounds.”
“Oh. That’s good.” I don’t know what else to say, but I do know what to do.
With my contacts folder open, I select Josh’s number. The moment his groggy voice fills the line, I take a deep breath. “Sorry to wake you, but I need your help.”
“Sure, Sara. What’s wrong?”
Everything. Instead of admitting that, I look over my shoulder at Ezra. “Well, I have a naked shifter in my kitchen, a sleeping shifter baby in my living room, and I think there’s a bad-guy shifter lurking in the streets by my house.”
“I’ll be there in ten, fifteen minutes.”
“You don’t have to come. I just need you to call Ilan. He’s the one who left Ezra with me while he went to clean up some dead bodies, but if he doesn’t get back here soon, there might be more here.”
“I’ll call Ilan, then I’ll be right out. Just stay calm. I’ve been in your shoes before. I understand. You’re not alone in this, okay?”
The call cuts. I set the phone on the table. Josh’s words repeat in my head, but he’s wrong. He can’t understand. He doesn’t have a little boy in the next room who he wishes was his. Then again, maybe I’m wrong. He has two little girls at home set to take his name.
Six
Ilan
The stench of blood assaults me the minute I walk into my kitchen. My wolves stir, brought forth by the scent of death. They know it too well.
On a deep breath, I push my wolves back into the mystical field where they live within my soul. It’s dark there. And cold. Lonely too. My wolves are used to it, though. They no longer even complain when I banish them there. They know I’ll call on them again when it’s time to make another kill.
I close my eyes for a moment and breathe, absorbing what information I can from the scene of the murder. Sara’s fragrant scent reaches me first, then the humans who died. Nothing else of significance lingers in the air. The cowards who killed these men never entered my house.
“One lion shifter got away. I heard his taunting roar when I was with Sara.” I look at where Dante is crouched by Sara’s bloody footprint. “Why kill these humans and not even come inside?”
“Why would they? Sara took the baby with her.” Dante lifts the eyelid of the human with a pen. “They intercepted her outside.”
The explanation doesn’t se
em right. I glance at Uri, who’s taking pictures of the bullet entry holes in the patio doors. I shake my head. “On the way out to her place, Sara told me she heard two pops and something falling. That’s why she went into my kitchen. She stepped into the murder scene seconds after it happened. There’s no way the shifters who were sitting in the woods could’ve missed seeing her.”
“So why not shoot her too?” Uri asks the question teasing my mind.
“Exactly. Unless these men were the intended targets.” Doubt is reflected in my voice, but the option needs to be assessed. “We should look into their backgrounds. Maybe they’ve gotten themselves on a shifter’s bad side.”
“We?” Uri looks over his shoulder. “This is a Shifter Affairs case now. And you’re not an agent.”
Dante makes an amused sound. “Do you really think that will stop him? That lion shifter attacked Ilan’s true mate. Made it personal. Nothing will stop him from delivering retribution.”
“Our goddesses’ meddling in our lives needs to stop. Not all of us want peace. Some of us want to suffer. We deserve it.” Uri flexes his free hand, then lifts the camera to look through the viewer. “Still doesn’t make a difference in this case. The moment Shifter Affairs got that call, your involvement ended.”
“But I’m here now.” I follow the direction of Uri’s camera with my gaze. The kitchen island blocks the view of the dead bodies and the spot where the car seat had been. Sara detailed exactly what happened from the moment she stepped into my kitchen. Listening to her filled me with pride. Although afraid, she still acted with courage.
At the sound of my front door opening, Uri smirks. “Not for much longer.”
“Uri?” Agent Ella Montgomery’s voice carries through my house.