Carlos Montoya Lopez saw the world through the eyes of a bird of prey. From behind the glass wall of his office at the San Antonio Police Department, he took in the comings and goings in the precinct, most typical of a hot, crime-infested night. Garishly dressed hookers rubbed shoulders with thieves and gangbangers while police officers tried to maintain order.
As a hawk shifter, and the last of his species, Carlos often found himself relegated to observing life, rather than actually living it. He’d become used to it, often shrugging off self-pity as a useless emotion.
Central Texas thrived with other shifter activity, however. Though Lone Star shifters tended to be reclusive, antisocial groups, being familiar with each other was key to their survival, as was keeping the truth of their existence secret from humans.
Carlos watched as two of those
Daniel and Nate were private investigators, highly capable of finding missing persons. And in the case of a missing shifter, they were invaluable.
Daniel stopped in the open doorway of Carlos’ office and rapped once on the doorframe. “What’s up, Carlos? We came as soon as we got your message.”
Nate didn’t wait for an invitation to enter but sauntered in and made himself right at home by sprawling into an empty chair. “We figured it was important if you were calling so late. Tell us what you need.”
Carlos waited for Daniel to take a seat then grabbed a remote from his desk before turning to face a monitor hanging on the wall. “A couple of hours ago, mall security cameras caught a carjacking gone wrong. Looks like a dumbass kid freaked out in the process of stealing a car and took the owner too.”
The trio went quiet as video from mall security filled the screen, showing a sea of cars and trucks and a lone woman carrying a couple of department store bags and a purse the size of a small suitcase. Darkness was just settling in but the lot was well lit, allowing them to easily watch as the blonde stopped, juggled the bags and dug into her purse, extracting a set of car keys. Not an unusual sight—until a lean, lanky figure wearing a hoodie and what looked like a ski mask moved in behind her.
“Really? A ski mask? You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.” Nate shook his head and Daniel grunted in response. They went quiet again as the crime unfolded. The audio was crap but the woman seemed to shriek when Ski Mask grabbed her. Her feet kicked out and then back to land a solid blow on the kid’s legs. The instant he released her, she did what any red-blooded female would do. She swung her enormous purse right at his head.
“Good move,” Daniel said. “Typical, but a good move.”
The whole bag-swinging thing proved to be ineffectual, however, as she lost her grip and it flew from her fingers to land harmlessly on the pavement. She didn’t let that stop her though. Instantly she was on her attacker like a spider monkey, clawing and scratching until the carjacker’s hood fell back and the woman was holding his ski mask in one clenched fist.
“Yep. Just a kid. A damn stupid kid,” Daniel said, shifting to lean forward intently. “And she has a good look at him now.”
“I figured that’s why he took her,” Carlos replied.
The men quieted again, taking in the panicked movements of the punk, watching as he swiftly pulled a gun from the waist of his jeans and landed a solid blow to the victim’s head. Standing over her body, he looked around frantically for a second or two before locating her keys and tossing her into the trunk of her own car. The whole scene took less than two minutes.
When the monitor went black, Carlos turned off the machine and opened a lower drawer of his desk. “So this is where you come in. She’s a shifter.” He pulled out the black leather purse the victim had lost in her struggle and tossed it to Daniel, who caught it deftly. “We have cops all over the city looking for her car, but you know shifters are better trackers than any human. She’s definitely not a hawk. I would have recognized the scent instantly. I suspect she’s one of yours. Or maybe panther.”
Daniel sniffed at the bag—and instantly gave Nate a sharp look.
The other jaguar shifter did the same, sniffing deeply then closing his eyes briefly and running his hands over the leather in an almost reverent fashion.
As he gingerly set the purse on the desk, Nate looked at Carlos. “She’s one of ours. Gods! Unmated. There haven’t been new female jags in our area for longer than I can remember.”
“If she’d been mated, she would have torn the little shithead to pieces,” Daniel added. His dark brows pulled together in a scowl. “Her being unmated makes her vulnerable. Until she shifts for the first time, she’s only about as strong as an average human woman. We need to find her, pronto.”
Carlos studied the two tough jag males, sensed their urgency, and knew they’d find her soon. He just hoped the scared kid didn’t kill her before they managed it.
Would she die tonight? Tomorrow? The scent of earth and all things musty and old curled through her nostrils and the blindfold tied over her eyes made the world so very dark. Even without that bit of cotton, she knew she was hidden away so carefully that it would be a miracle if she were found alive.
The shaking and trembling had subsided a long time ago and she’d already stopped guessing how many hours had passed since she’d been taken. Olivia thought back on the moment when she’d left the mall. It had been getting dark, and she knew that for a woman alone there was always the possibility of danger, but in her pompous conceit, she’d thought herself impervious to the sinister deeds of humans.
Damn it. Here came the tears again when she’d thought she was done with all that. Maybe they’d reappeared to remind her that, no, she wasn’t invincible after all. Since childhood she’d known she was more than human. She was shifter. Livvy also know that until she was properly mated, she wouldn’t possess the strength to protect herself properly.
Well, that had been proved in spades tonight when she’d allowed herself to be taken by a pimply-faced kid.
Jaguar blood ran heavy in her veins, but tonight it hadn’t done her a darn bit of good.
Before her death, her mother had talked about the day Livy would meet her mates and shift into the beast she was meant to be. Uh-uh. Not happening now. She didn’t know a soul in this town; no one knew she was missing. Despair and rage, frustration and the inevitable, bittersweet regret filled her. She wanted to scream over her loss but there was no one around to hear and, in the end, she was a practical, modern woman who could only concentrate on escape.
Livvy yanked at the bonds that held her hands behind her back. Ropes. Rough and ragged, they dug into her wrists but she barely felt the pain. If she were mated, she’d have them snapped and lying in shreds and she’d be out of this hellhole, wherever it was. But nope. No mates.
Wasn’t she just lucky as hell?
Ah, that was nice. Anger was always better than despair. Her mother hadn’t raised her to be a weakling and Livvy called on those lessons now as she tried to figure a way out of this mess. She’d better work fast. She had no idea when her assailant might return or what his plans were, but she didn’t intend to hang around and find out.
Livvy thrashed and pulled at her bonds for what seemed ages, but to no avail. She desperately needed some kind of weapon but she was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and seemingly helpless on the hard dirt floor.
Summoning what little bit of energy she had left, she wiggled around, managing to scoot a few inches at a time in her attempt to find something sharp that she could use to cut her bindings. Surely she could do this. Livvy had always been slightly stronger and faster than human females. But her arms were screaming a ragged protest each time she moved. What she wouldn’t give to be fully jaguar at this moment.
A scent rolled through the air. Wild, savage and strangely familiar.
Livvy’s spectacular hearing picked up the padding of footsteps and the occasional cough-like sound distinctive to her species.
She was no longer alone.
