“Man, you’re a fucking otter,” Thian replies. “Isn’t cold your thing?”
“Something different about this cold,” he says. “It’s fucking bone chilling is what it is.”
“Pussy,” Thian taunts.
“No, that’d be you. I’m an otter,” Manic replies.
“Enough,” I growl out. “Seems there’s a little problem in our town, one that we’re just now becoming aware of since Thian’s security job for the mayor.”
“What’s up, Pres?” Gray asks. I gave him the bare bones while in my office, but I know the question is more so I can fill the others in than him not knowing.
“Missing women. Fifteen so far by my count, but there could be more.” I hold up the files I brought in with me. “Each of these women disappeared after a night out with friends.”
“Anything to tie them together?” Snow questions, jotting down notes.
“Nothing I can see so far, so maybe one of y’all can dig a little deeper on the web and see if there’s something that connects them.” I don’t mention what my leopard said because it’s so farfetched I won’t believe it until I see it for myself. There’s no way after living in Texas, Mississippi, and Louisiana all my life that my mate is living here, in Michigan. No fucking way.
“I got it,” Aces says. He’s our resident IT guru and makes magic happen with a flick of his hand. We’ve managed to stay on the right side of not only Uncle Sam but also the local law. Granted we have two legit businesses, a bar that primarily caters to the college-age crowd, and a bounty hunting operation, but we also handle contract hits and those aren’t legit by a longshot.
I slide the files down to Aces and nod. “Let me know what you find out.” That taken care of, for the time being, I ask, “How’s the bar doing?” Pidge, an owl shifter, blinks at me when I point at him. I forget that he’s nocturnal sometimes and these early meetings, if one can call two in the afternoon early, fuck him up a bit.
“No problems. Great idea to add some theme nights. Thursday karaoke has been a hit, and the ladies specials every night has added to the coffers significantly.” I nod; none of us are hurting financially, but it never hurts to add to the coffers.
“So you haven’t seen anyone harassing the women?” I inquire. As far as I can tell, none of the women taken have been snatched from our bar and I want to keep it that way. Don’t want our local yokels breathing down our neck over something we have no control over.
“The few that have were beyond drunk. We called them cabs and kicked them out.” I nod.
“Good thinking. Don’t need anyone getting behind the wheel and causing an accident that kills someone. These days, they tend to sue everyone and I’m not willing to pay for someone else’s idiocy,” I state. “Any new bounties?” I ask Gray. We’re a smaller chapter so we all seem to have our fingers in every pie, but he tends to oversee the incoming jobs, both the legal and the illegal.
“Two. Sent out Wooly and Mammoth. Figure they’ll scare the assholes into surrendering if nothing else,” he replies, smirking at me. They likely will too; they’re both big motherfuckers. Tall, burly, menacing. Oh, and they’re bear shifters, so they’re mean as snakes.
“Good choice. Okay, so Aces, you do some digging. Gray, keep me posted on Wooly and Mammoth’s progress. Church is adjourned.” I bang my gavel then head out to the bar. Time for a little Jose. Or a lot. It’s a good thing my metabolism is so high being a shifter; no getting drunk and best of all, no fucking hangovers.
Jayda
You shouldn’t have said anything, my leopard says.
I know, I groan. My body is one giant bruise and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few cracked ribs based on the wheezing and how hard it is to breathe. The gashes across my face and back are still dripping blood, and even without a mirror, I know I probably need stitches. If only I could shift.
I made the mistake of smarting off to one of my captors this morning when he brought ‘breakfast’ to me. I mean, c’mon now, a piece of unbuttered toast and a tiny glass of water is not the breakfast of champions! Because I’m a larger cat, I eat. A lot. Protein is one of my main go-to meals; y’know, steak, bacon, sausage, chicken. What every shifter desires. Bread and water are not doing me any favors. The prick better be glad that I can’t shift because I’d shred his nasty ass and not think twice, even though I tend to be a pacifist.
That’s gonna leave a mark, too, she continues.
Ya think? Yeah, I’m feeling a bit...snarky.
No need to get your panties all twisted up.
I’m wearing a thong!
Semantics, she huffs. What are we going to do?
I sit and think because I honestly don’t know what to do. There’s nothing I can use for a weapon and the spiked collar they have on my neck has a lock on it; believe me, I tried in vain to get it off and have the broken nails to prove it. Tears spring to my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall; I’m not a crier by nature, preferring to face life with my
