Mercy was all but strangling the handset. “Gran, I seriously don’t need any help. Don’t send your sentinels up here.” Dodging two undoubtedly determined males was not her idea of a good time. Especially not when the only man her body seemed to crave was a wolf she’d threatened to kill more than once.
“Too late,” Isabella said. “I cleared it with Lucas days ago—my men are probably already in your territory. And if they don’t work out, I have several other unmated sentinels who all think you’d make an excellent mate.”
Mercy thumped her forehead with a fist. “I’m sending them straight back. I don’t need the complication.”
“Of course you do, dear. And if the man you’re seeing can’t handle a little competition, he should get out of the game.” Her voice changed, became pure alpha. “You need a tough man, Mercy. Otherwise, you’ll stomp on his heart and eat it for breakfast.”
“Thanks.”
“Fact of life, kitten.” A muffled whisper. “Speaking of tough men, your grandfather is out of patience. I’ll talk to you after you meet Eduardo and Joaquin.”
She was about to put the handset on the bed stand when it came back to life in her hand. This time, she checked the caller ID. “Lucas? What’s up?”
“I need you to run a check out by the Grove. Something’s there that shouldn’t be.”
Her mind shifted into sentinel mode. “Like last time?” Then, it had been a wounded Psy defector they’d found. The aftermath had almost gotten both Dorian and Ashaya killed.
“No”—Lucas’s voice was grim—“tip was, there’s a dead smell in the air.”
CHAPTER 4
Ice water in her veins. “Psy, human, or changeling?”
“No confirmation—call me the second you know,” he said. “One of the SnowDancers is already on the way to join you.”
“Why?” Her leopard bristled. “The Grove’s in our territory.”
“It was one of their juveniles who sensed something off when he passed through—”
“Hah,” Mercy said. “He probably came down to do mischief.” As DarkRiver’s official liaison to SnowDancer, there wasn’t much she didn’t know about the little turf war the cat and wolf juveniles—and young adults—were having. Anything that involved both packs and didn’t need an alpha’s attention went through her . . . and Riley. The bite mark on her neck tingled in sensory memory—she could all but feel his lips, his teeth against her sensitized flesh.
“Anything serious I need to worry about?”
Snapping back to the present, she shook her head. “No, they’re just blowing off steam, trying to figure out the hierarchy between themselves.” Both DarkRiver and SnowDancer ran disciplined packs—the younger members knew exactly how far they could go. “Maybe I can beat the SnowDancer to the Grove.”
“We’re allies.” Lucas sounded very patient. “Be nice.”
She knew he traded barbs with Hawke, the SnowDancer alpha, every time they met. “I will if you will.”
“Shut up. I’m your alpha. Go look and see what’s up.”
Hanging up with a grin that quickly faded as she considered what she might find, she hurried to throw some water on her face—the bath would have to wait until she had a few hours to relax. Though her muscles were still a little sore, it was nothing that would hold her back. She was a sentinel for a reason—she was fit, lethal, and well able to take down most men twice her size.
Not including Riley.
Her teeth bared at the way he’d pinned her—maybe she’d enjoyed it last night, but if the wolf tried to use that to change the balance of power in the sentinel-lieutenant relationship between them, things would get seriously ugly.
Her mind filled with images of him blocking her punches, trying not to hurt her. She squelched the tiny tendril of warmth that threatened to rise to the surface. Because if there was one thing she knew about predatory changeling men, it was that they weren’t good with boundaries—if she gave an inch, he’d take a whole country mile, start trying to protect her in the field.
Scowling at the thought, she wiped off her face, took a second to cover up a certain mark, then scraped her hair back into a high, tight ponytail before dressing in jeans, a plain white tee, and boots. Her cell phone was on the night table and she grabbed it on the way out, sticking it in her back pocket. The autumn air tasted crisp, sweet, almost too cold. She drew it into her lungs as she ran, ceding control to the leopard though she remained in human form. It knew instinctively where to put its feet, when to duck, when to switch direction because an easier path lay a little bit to the left or right.
It just felt like
Despite the bleak nature of what lay ahead, she was smiling when the first hint of scent hit her nose. Her stride faltered as she crossed into the large tract of land known as the Grove. “God would not be that cruel.” But he was.
Because there was Riley, running to meet her from the opposite direction. His expression was the by-now- familiar impassive one—the one that made her want to needle him simply to get a reaction. If she hadn’t seen that same face violent with passion, she’d have thought him an android. And for a predatory male changeling, especially one as dominant as Riley, that was some act to pull off.
“Coincidence?” she asked with saccharine sweetness.
His eyes—dark, intense, extraordinarily focused—went to her neck. “You can’t heal a bite that fast.” Cool words, but his jaw was a brutally hard line.
“Maybe I can.” And maybe she had really good concealer. “Let’s do this.” She swept left as he went right. “Anything?” she asked as they met on the other side of the rough circle.
“No. Another sweep.”
She growled at him. “I know what I’m doing. Don’t give me orders.”
Those oh-so-calm eyes didn’t so much as narrow. “Fine.” And he was gone.
That pissed her off. Which, she realized, was precisely the result he’d intended. Riley knew
Riley arrived a minute later. “Some kind of cat,” he said the instant he got close.
“Changeling lynx.” Crouching to confirm the scent, she shook her head . . . and caught a vague whiff of the “dead” smell that had freaked out the juvenile. Her soul chilled, even as the leopard whispered that that scent had never belonged to a person. “She’s here because there’s a wild lynx population in the area.”
Riley’s shoulders locked, his hands fisting. “She’s gone rogue.”
“I hope it’s not too late.” Mercy swallowed and rose to her feet. Rogues were changelings who’d surrendered absolutely to the beast, submerging their human half. If they’d turned into pure animals, it wouldn’t have mattered so much—yes, it would’ve broken hearts, but the lost ones would’ve been allowed to live out their lives in peace. But rogues were smarter, faster, quicker. And they liked hunting those they had once called family. But this one . . . “It’s a kid, Riley.”
The wolf looked at her out of Riley’s eyes. “You know her?”
“Willow’s family had to get the okay to be in our territory.” Predatory changelings had very strict rules. It kept the peace. And the most basic rule was—no going into another predator’s territory without permission. “Her parents work for a company that relocated to Tahoe.”
“How old is Willow?”
“Eight, I think.” She drew in a deep breath, attempting to locate the source of the fading spray of blood and death. “Something has to have happened to her parents.” She pulled out her cell and coded in a call to Lucas as they started following Willow’s trail.
“Mercy, you found—”
