Passion's Prey

“She’s a shadow,” Darel replied.

He sat in one of the high-backed chairs that Sabar had forgotten the name of. He wasn’t eating, was barely looking at Sabar. The Rogue had been acting weird since they’d fought those shadows on the highway; everything about him seemed a bit different than before. Even his hair seemed longer, more unruly, his facial features rougher, his skin just a shade darker. But that was his issue; Sabar had more important things to occupy his mind with.

“And this shifter that’s looking for her, you know more about him?”

“He’s definitely not from the Gungi. His accent’s different. And he looks weird. I can’t say if he’s a Lormenia or a Croesteriia, but he sounds like he’s from that region and he’s got cat in him.”

By that region Sabar knew that Darel was referring to the Etinosa, the small but burgeoning village emerging on the outskirts of the Sierra Leone rain forest in western Africa. The assumption could be true, or it could be a clever trick by the newcomer. Sabar would like to believe the latter.

“And he wants her?” he asked trying to remain focused on the here and now.

Darel nodded. “Says she’s his companheiro.”

Sabar scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth and chewed, even though it was nearing five o’clock in the afternoon. He’d had a late morning in bed and now his hunger had just peaked. The cook had prepared what he’d asked for, no questions asked. Sabar wished everyone around him was that obedient. “Interesting,” he mumbled.

“He was pissed she got away, too. I mean, we wanted to get that Faction dude, but he was zapping out about losing the female.”

“Where is he now?”

“I gave him the keys to Hanson’s place. Figured you’d want to keep a close eye on him until we find out what his real deal is.”

Sabar nodded. “Good move. Put him in the club, give him a job, and watch his ass like a hawk.”

“In the club? You serious? You want him working with us?”

“I want him under my thumb. So when he makes a move I’ll be there to bust his ass.”

“That’s not the one you need to be watching that way,” Darel mumbled.

Sabar was out of his chair in a flash, his face close up to Darel’s. “What did you just say?”

To his credit, and this is why Sabar really liked this shifter, Darel didn’t flinch, he didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe out of the way. He simply stared back at Sabar. Which on the one hand was something to be proud of, and on the other …

“I think you need to keep an eye on Bianca,” Darel told him matter-of-factly.

“Bianca’s my female” was Sabar’s retort as he backed away from the table. “What’s your problem with her?”

“My problem is how she showed up out of the blue. Where’s Boden? Did he just let her go? What does she really want, Sabar?” Darel asked, the tension in his voice evident. Hell, his muscles had even bunched at the shoulders like this crazy shifter thought he was going to take a swing at him. Time to remind him who was in charge here.

“She wants me!” he yelled.

Darel nodded.

“And what else?”

Sabar didn’t answer, just flexed his fingers, claws already breaking through the skin as his cat was ready for a fight. He didn’t want to kill Darel, didn’t even want to consider the thought. But knew that if that was what needed to go down, it would. Disrespect was not something he planned to deal with lightly.

Darel seemed oblivious to Sabar’s train of thought as he continued. “Think about this: We’re trying to build something here. Our product is popular, so our territory is growing. We’re working on those fake-ass politicians to get something big set up with the weapons dealing. We’re about to be a huge force in this city and across this damn nation. And Bianca shows up just in time to reap the benefits.”

“I hear what you’re saying,” he said, only because Darel had been his trusted confidant for a while now. And Darel never let him down, ever. He knew what to do and he did it without question. Sabar respected him and wanted to keep their working relationship intact. But in this, where Bianca was concerned, there was no middle ground.

Sabar stood from his chair and leaned over the table so that his face was kissing distance away from Darel’s, his breath a breeze across the man’s ashen face.

“But she’s my female. I don’t give a damn about what happened across the seas years ago. I don’t fucking care where Boden is or if his head’s still up his ass. I’m running this shit here and that’s all that matters. You,” he said, his voice raising slightly as he pointed at Darel, “don’t say a fucking word to or against Bianca. Don’t even look at her cross-eyed or I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to you one by one. These terms are not negotiable.”

He sat down then, picking up his fork and eating another bite of eggs.

After a few seconds of silence Darel stood. “I’m going to check on Hanson and the new shipment. I’ll take the new guy with me and get him set up for tonight.”

“And if that shadow bitch shows up, tie her ass up and bring her to me. I’ll decide if Mr. New-Shifter-in- Town gets her or not.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” was Darel’s retort.

If Sabar weren’t so busy finishing off his meal and thinking about a hot-ass shifter he could sink his length into, or maybe even enjoy right alongside Bianca, he would have heard the sarcasm in Darel’s tone. He would have known that he might just need to watch his back with his second-in-command.

* * *

With every breath he took, pain ripped another slither of his heart. After almost five years there should be nothing left. If he keeled over and died right here, on the balcony of this substandard dwelling in this dirty and overcrowded city, they’d cut him open and see an organ the size of a penny no longer thumping, no longer living.

Pathetic, that’s exactly what Rolando was. He’d convinced himself of that as he’d finally, after spending endless days, months, looking for her in the Gungi, dragged his ass back across the country. His home was and would always be India, in the depths of the Lachli village of the rain forest where he’d been born. It wasn’t until eight years ago that he’d left the Lachli to join another group of shifters in their exploration of new territory for their kind. That venture had taken him to the Sierra Leone rain forest in Africa, where a small village of shifters had just begun to live. Then he’d ended up in the Gungi.

And he’d found Caprise.

He’d heard of companheiros, as the Topetenia called them. His life mate, that’s what he knew she was from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. From that moment on she’d been all he could think about.

Years later, nothing had changed.

Rolando wanted her back. He wanted his mate. No, he needed her, more than he needed to breathe or to live for that matter. The instructions from his commander had been clear in the heavily accented English they both spoke.

“End this mindless search for the female. Get another one to slake your needs. We have bigger, better things to worry about.”

That’s precisely what he’d said to Rolando, two months ago. That very night Rolando had left the forest heading to the United States, where he’d had a gut feeling his beloved had returned.

And he’d been right. She was here and she was more beautiful than ever.

He had waited the allotted time those other shifters had instructed and still he’d missed her. At first that thought angered him, but now he was calm again. He was close to Caprise and she knew. Oh, yes, now she knew just how close.

His entire body tightened, his cat growling, as his tongue extended to lick his human lips. Closure was what the humans called what he sought. The exact name for it didn’t matter to Rolando. All that mattered was they would soon be together again. For however long revenge would