* * *
• • •
Two hours later, Angus walked into an illegal gaming den down in the bayous, acting on a tip Haider’s agents had received. For the last week or so, Tamsin Calloway had been seen hanging out in the area of Houma and smaller towns, coming and going, up to something—who knew what?
She’d been visiting this old plantation house that held card games in one of its back rooms—the games were known to local police but deliberately ignored. Someone along the line was probably getting a kickback.
Angus drove from New Orleans in the car Haider had lent him, a pathetic old station wagon from the last century. Angus had taken one look at it and objected in disbelief, but Haider said, “She won’t notice you’re Shifter in this. We need a quick capture. Do everything right, and you and your cub will be going home together tonight.”
Angus only kept himself from strangling Haider by reminding himself that Ciaran’s life hung in the balance. Shifter Bureau might not go so far as to kill a cub—such an act would have repercussions, even for Shifter Bureau—but they could take Ciaran away from him, foster him with a Shifter family far away, forbid Angus to see him again.
Might as well send him to dust, Angus thought bitterly. He didn’t have much in his life anymore besides Ciaran. His son was his whole world.
Angus parked the car in a closed-down gas station a little way from the plantation house and proceeded on foot. He reasoned he didn’t want to come out dragging his quarry to find himself hemmed in by other vehicles. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be laughed at, a big bad Shifter emerging from a faded, wood-paneled station wagon.
Cars and motorcycles were parked haphazardly in the dirt around the house, showing he’d been right about the possibility of getting blocked in. Popular place.
Old plantation houses in this area either became tourist attractions, if there was money to fix them up, or slowly fell apart in the hands of private owners. This one looked to be in better repair, its columns ghostly white in the fog, lights flickering in its windows.
Angus moved stiffly, his nervous system recovering from the multiple shocks from his Collar and the Taser. Haider hadn’t needed to tase him, but the man was a bastard. Angus had known as soon as Haider mentioned Ciaran that he’d be chasing down the Shifter woman. He’d attacked Haider to make him understand what would happen to him if Ciaran was harmed in any way. There was no need to subdue Angus to get him to obey.
A guard stood inside the door of the plantation house, a human who was almost as large as a Shifter. He gazed at Angus with narrow eyes until Angus gave the password. Haider had known that too.
Again Angus wondered why the hell Haider hadn’t simply sent in a bunch of Bureau commandos with black fatigues and tranq rifles to grab her. The man wasn’t telling Angus everything.
As Angus stepped inside the dimly lit interior, he saw that this place was more than a backwoods casino. To the right of the main hall was a large living room, lit with darkly shaded lamps. People lounged on sofas together—very close together. From the scents Angus caught, they were human and Shifter.
Humans and Shifters were upstairs as well, from the scent of things. Interesting. Was someone running a brothel or was this a house where humans and Shifters could mingle without anyone getting in a twist about it?
A black-skinned Shifter came down the stairs, the man almost as tall as Angus but not as big, his muscles more ropy. Angus placed himself in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” Angus asked in a quiet voice. He didn’t say the Shifter’s name, though he’d known it for years—Reginald McKee, currently second in command in his Shiftertown. Names and ranks might not be a good thing to throw around here.
Reg halted on the bottom step, looking, if anything, embarrassed. “Just hanging out. You?”
“Looking for someone.” Angus kept his voice soft as a breath. Reg, being Shifter, could hear him, but anything louder and every other Shifter here would too. “Shifter female.”
Reg huffed a laugh. “Can you be more specific?”
Angus leaned forward and whispered the name into Reg’s ear. Reg looked thoughtful, then shook his head. “No idea, my friend. Sorry.”
“Help me look?”
Reg’s amusement died. “Why? Her mate pissed off at her or something?”
Angus rubbed his hand over his uncombed hair. “It’s complicated.”
Reg’s wildcat was mostly serval, a small creature, but wickedly fierce. His lack of bulk made him quick, canny, and cautious.
He knew Angus was being evasive, but Angus couldn’t explain. Not when Ciaran’s safety depended on it.
“I’ll scout around,” Reg said. “What does she look like?”
“Red hair, young—” Angus broke off in frustration. That was all he knew, and Haider hadn’t even told him what kind of Shifter she was. Maybe Haider didn’t know.
Reg raised his brows. “Right. If I see her, I’ll tell you. I won’t grab her myself.”
“Probably for the best,” Angus agreed. “Where’s the card room?”
“Back there.” Reg gave Angus another skeptical eye. “We’ll have to talk, my friend.”
“Yep, we will.”
Reg had taken over being second in command to the Shiftertown leader when Angus had been forced to step down from the position because of Gavan. Reg had felt bad about it, but Angus had never blamed him . . .
“Good luck.” Reg nodded and skimmed back up the stairs to start searching, the litheness of his wildcat evident.
Angus took his plodding wolf self down the hall where Reg had pointed, finding the card room after peeking into two other chambers. No guards stood at the door—it seemed that anyone could walk in and throw his money away on a poker game if he wanted.
This room, like the others, was dim except for lights directly over the card tables. Smoky too—no one had decided to ban cigarettes and cigars here. Ashtrays on and next to the tables overflowed, the stench of used cigarettes cloying.
Through the haze, Angus saw her.
Tamsin Calloway looked younger than in her photo. She had a wave of bright red hair flowing back from a broad forehead, her face narrowing to a somewhat pointed chin. He couldn’t tell the color of her eyes from this distance, but her skin was the pale hue of a true redhead, one from the northern climes of Scotland. Angus had seen Fae inside Faerie with hair that color.
She sat at a table that held seven other men, all human. Her cards hung negligently in her hands while she leaned forward with a little smile, as though eager for the next bet. They were playing Texas Hold ’em. The cards showing on the table were two queens, a jack, and a ten. Plenty of money sat in a pile in the middle. No chips, just cash.
As Angus paused, trying to decide on his approach, one of the men at the table glared at Tamsin. “I’ll raise you a hundred.” He shoved in a stack of twenties.
“I’ll see that,” Tamsin said without losing her smile.
Four of the other men groaned and tossed down their cards. “Fold,” they each said, with one saying, “I’m toast.”
Three men and Tamsin left. Two put in their money, leaving it to the man who’d raised the last time. He plucked up two more twenties and a ten and let them drop into the pile. “Another fifty.”
Tamsin shrugged and added her money. Another man threw his cards down in disgust. “I’m out.”
Now it was Tamsin and the other two. One man looked at his cards, the ones on the table, and the pot. He sighed and pushed his chair back. “Damn it.”
The remaining man watched Tamsin. He hunched forward, anger in every line of his body. If he didn’t win, things might go badly for Tamsin.
“Call,” the man snarled.
Tamsin laid down her cards. “Two little ladies make four of a kind.”
A string of foul words came out of the man’s mouth. His cards f
ell from his hand, nowhere near anything to win.
“You cheating bitch!”
Tamsin raked the money to her and rose. Ignoring the raging man and his friends, who were telling him to suck it up, she looked across the room and straight at Angus.
Angus froze in place, doing his best to be just another Shifter looking to relieve boredom in this backwoods casino.
Tamsin wasn’t fooled. The eyes that met Angus’s told him she’d already seen him, recognized him for Shifter, and knew why he was here. Her eyes were a hazel shade, the light over the table showed him, almost golden, the color of whisky. Her faint scent came to him over the stench of humans and smoke—warm, like nutmeg.
Tamsin stuffed double handfuls of cash into her pockets, at the same time moving back from the table on quick feet.
“Gotta go, boys. Thanks for the game.”
Two more strides, a flash of a grin over her shoulder, and she faded into the shadows.
Angus charged across the room after her. A heavy curtain hid the wall she’d run toward, and Angus jerked it back to find a window, wide-open and letting in the fog.
Angus scrambled through the window, jerking his bulk through the tight fit, and landed on the veranda that surrounded the house.
Mists flowed between him and the trees beyond, and there was no sound. Tamsin, her flame hair and nutmeg scent, had vanished.
CHAPTER TWO
Cut that close—way too close, Tamsin admonished herself as she ran through the trees, the wet ground sucking at her feet.
What the hell kind of hunter had they sent after her this time? She’d smelled him all the way across the room. Shifter, Lupine, and highly pissed off.
Damn it. Wolves were fantastic trackers—she’d have a hard time getting away from him.
Tamsin moved as fast as she dared. Any faster and she’d make plenty of noise to alert the wolf to her presence. Shifting would be the best way to escape, but then she’d have to leave her clothes and money behind, which wolf-man would find. Asshole. What self-respecting Shifter worked for Shifter Bureau?
He might have nothing to do with Shifter Bureau, a voice inside her reasoned. He might be working for Shifters who wanted to catch her for their own purposes. It happened.
No matter what, Tamsin needed to get the hell out of here. She ran, heading for deeper darkness. The problem was, she hadn’t had time to scout this place as much as she’d have liked. She’d thought she’d have plenty of time to walk to her motorcycle and ride back to the B and B, no need for running through the bayous. She wouldn’t have come here tonight for another game at all if she hadn’t needed the money.
The road was in that direction. Right? Tamsin sniffed, but her human nose wasn’t as sensitive as her Shifter’s. She couldn’t see as well in the dark as her Shifter either.
So now she was running through unknown woods, her sense of direction screwed up, trying to get away from a wolf. The Goddess was not smiling on Tamsin Calloway tonight.
Mists gathered under the trees; this part of the bayous was liable to become treacherous swamp at every step. Tamsin preferred hills and woods that were drier, with clear, crisp air, but fugitives couldn’t be choosers.
She ran along, slipping in mud that clung to her boots and spattered its way up her jeans. She was hot in this muggy air, her jacket and jeans not made for the warmth of early September in southern Louisiana.
Hot damn, there’s the road. Tamsin spied the damp strip of asphalt in a patch of light from a streetlamp between the trees, and made for it. She would let the road guide her out of here, back to the intersection where she’d hidden her motorcycle.
Wolf-boy would find it more difficult to track her on pavement, but not impossible. Tamsin gave a look and a sniff behind her, but she saw and smelled nothing. Heard nothing either, and her human hearing was pretty good.
Maybe wolf-man hadn’t bothered to come into the woods after her. There were some nice-looking human females in the plantation house who were eager for Shifter guys—maybe the Lupine had stayed and let himself be distracted by them.
Long enough for Tamsin to get away? She hoped wolf-boy was horny.
She moved quietly from the darkness under the trees to the road, hurrying down the damp pavement.
“Now, where are you running off to?”
Damn it. Tamsin pulled up, finding herself facing not the wolf-man but one of the guys from the poker table. No—three of them. They’d parked their truck along this stretch, and now they were standing next to it, arms folded, watching Tamsin. Had they gotten lucky and found her? Or did they know where the only dry path behind the plantation house came out?
“Not running anywhere,” Tamsin said lightly. “Just heading home.”
“With our money,” the man who had lost the most consistently said.
“Which I won, fair and square. Good night, gentlemen.”
She tried to walk around them, but the loser stepped in front of her. “You’re a cheating bitch and you know it.”
He’d been singing this refrain all night. “I don’t cheat.” Tamsin glared at him, offended and wondering why she was letting herself have time to be. “I’m a good player.”
“Let it go, dude,” his friend said.
Yes, let it go. Tamsin again started past them, needing to be on her bike before wolf-toes finished getting his rocks off and came after her.
“But she’s got our money,” the loser said. “And she’s all alone out here. Poor little lady.”
Tamsin smothered a sigh. She could probably fight off one of them—all three at the same time, maybe not. Plus, if she fought, they’d figure out she was Shifter. She’d have too much physical strength for a human, a small-looking female one at that. If she shifted and scared them shitless, she’d drop her keys and her money, and maybe not have time to dress again before the Lupine caught up to her.
The man who’d told his friend to let it go brightened. He might be a reasonable guy in daylight in the middle of a town with people watching him, but at the moment, he was on a back road, in the dark, with his asshole friends, facing a young woman who was alone and carrying a wad of cash.
This was not turning out to be her night.
Decision time. Fight. Shift as a last resort. Tamsin shucked her jacket, but they didn’t wait to see what she was doing. As soon as the jacket hit the ground, they were on her.
Tamsin’s advantage was that two of her assailants were drunk. The third guy, the one who might have been reasonable in other circumstances, was more or less sober, and he attacked her the most viciously.
Loser staggered back when Tamsin’s boot landed in his middle. She spun, landing a punch on the second guy’s face, and struck out at guy number three, the sober one.
Sober Guy sidestepped her, then caught Tamsin in an armlock, lifting her from her feet against his chest. The second guy recovered quickly and grabbed Tamsin’s legs as she flailed and fought.
“I get her first!” Loser yelled. The yell was more of a choke—he was still recovering from her kick.
Tamsin twisted her leg out of the second man’s grasp and swung her foot at him. He managed to dodge, but at least Tamsin had her leg free.
She twisted again, but the man still holding her clamped down, shoving his arm across her throat to cut off her breath.
Loser unfolded himself, an angry sparkle in his watery eyes. “Hold her steady. I don’t want to bruise my dick on her.”
Tamsin had a foot free—she’d kick his dick straight off if he bared it. If only she could breathe, damn it. Stars swam before her eyes, and she worried she’d pass out before she could shift and squirm away.
A rumbling growl that vibrated the ground flowed from the trees and onto the road, and the mists swirled in a sudden waft of air.
The second man darted a scared look to the woods. “What the hell was that?”
Sober Guy tightened his grip. “Probably a stupid dog. Don’t worry about it.”
“Didn’t sound like no dog to me. You know these woods are haunted, right?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” the man holding Tamsin scoffed. “Let’s get her into the truck. We’ll take her someplace and teach her not to mess with us.”
These guys were getting annoying. Tamsin struggled and they laughed. She started to feel kind of sorry for them.
The growl came again. He was warning them—what a nice Lupine. The growl basically said, Run now, and the worst that will happen is you’ll have bad dreams.
Trouble was, humans didn’t speak Shifter. The second man gave a little scream and headed for the truck, but Loser and the guy holding Tamsin paid no attention.
Loser grabbed Tamsin by the face. “We’re going to make you real sorry you messed with us, woman.”
“Now, don’t be like that,” the man holding her said. “We’ll treat her nice. She’ll like it. All she has to do is—”
Whatever she had to do, Tamsin wasn’t to know. A black shadow streaked from the trees and bowled over Loser and then the guy running for the pickup. The shadow came up snarling, in the form of a huge black wolf.
The hold on Tamsin’s throat loosened. She gave a backward thrust with her elbow, hard into Sober Guy’s gut. He folded over, and she shook off his grip, snatched up her jacket, and ran.
The wolf jumped at the man who’d held Tamsin. Sparks flew into the night as the Lupine’s Collar went off.
Good grief, why had they sent a Collared Shifter after her? Collars inflicted pain deep into the Shifter’s nerves, which was why Tamsin had refused to put one on twenty years ago. That refusal had made her a fugitive from that day to this.
She knew Shifter Bureau occasionally got their hands on un-Collared Shifters and forced them to do their bidding, but they’d dragged this guy out of a Shiftertown, the bullies.
Great, now she was feeling sorry for him too.