Ethan glared at the human behind the desk. The man flinched but covered the sign of his unease with a wide grin.
“As soon as an agent is available, I’ll show you right back.” He motioned to the table along the wall. “Have a cup of coffee and a donut while you wait.”
Ethan didn’t bother glancing in the direction of the coffeepot. Instead, he kept his gaze on the human dressed in a cheap cotton polo and khaki pants a size too small until beads of sweat dotted the other male’s forehead. “I was told someone would be available immediately to speak with me. I’ve waited an hour already.”
The man tugged at his shirt. “I’m sorry about that. Please have a seat, and I’ll go see what the holdup is.”
The clerk disappeared through a door and left Ethan alone in the quiet room. The office reminded him of many he’d seen over the years—tables with magazines strewn on them flanking uncomfortable chairs, generic industrial carpeting, and ugly paintings.
He walked toward the nearest one, not because he cared to look at the piece but to give him something to do that didn’t involve slamming his fist in the wall. His frustration had grown over the hours since he’d left his house.
Nothing in the pictures Maria had taken meant anything to him. For someone with the ability to tap into bank data, it’d be a great find. For him, not so much. He didn’t have a clue how to break through internet security measures, which was why he’d reached out to the human government for help. The person he’d spoken to on the phone had seemed eager to look at the data he’d gotten from Maria, but only after he’d hinted that it might have something to do with shifter trafficking.
The initials of buyers, account numbers, and records of payments made to Michael Tanner would prove he was involved in illegal activity. All the transactions noted in Michael’s ledger occurred within days of the so-called tragedies that had claimed the lives of their pack mates, but the one line that had angered Ethan the most was the fifty grand received for the sale of Owen.
Ethan fisted his hands and breathed through the rage tightening his muscles. He hated knowing any of his pack mates had suffered, but Owen’s situation hurt the most. If he hadn’t fought with Ethan, Owen wouldn’t have taken off or been rounded up by Michael’s followers. Greg was one of them, which was probably why he was still breathing despite his interest in mating Maria and becoming alpha.
Though not as physically strong as many dominants, Greg’s lack of empathy made him invaluable in Michael’s eyes. Greg was the one sent to discipline any shifter who broke pack rules, usually leaving them bloody and scared, unwilling to talk about their punishment.
Ethan’s phone beeped with a new text, providing him with a much needed distraction. Regret over the past would cripple him. He pulled his cell from his pocket. Noah’s profile showed on the display. Just the sight of him calmed Ethan and his wolf. The animal stopped in its restless pacing, no doubt picking up on the peace that had settled over its host. So simple, so powerful, so right—exactly how the presence of a true mate was supposed to be.
He dragged his finger over Noah’s image, marveling at the power the male had over him, before opening the message.
She’ll be waiting for us. Be prepared to tell her everything or I will. She’s confused, and I hate seeing her question her instincts. She needs to know how special she is to us.
Ethan sent a quick reply saying he would, then deleted the message. He wished he had answers for her about their unusual connection, but he didn’t have any that made sense. Even his wolf struggled with the instincts driving Ethan to lock both Hannah and Noah to him. Apart from them, the animal wanted both, urging him to seek them out. When they were together, it had reverted to its primal drive to protect its breeding mate. Only Hannah’s touch had helped him keep it under control.
He opened his missed-calls list, needing to see her picture. She was beautiful. There was no question about it. He wanted to lose himself in her, but she didn’t only call to him on a physical level. He couldn’t explain it any better than Noah had.
She was special to them.
“Agent Montgomery will see you now.”
Ethan turned at the sound of the human’s voice. The clerk stood, holding the door to the back rooms open.
“Thank you.” Ethan slid his phone back in his pocket and strode forward.
Row upon row of cubicles greeted him. He picked up on dozens of conversations that blended into a murmur of nonsense. He blocked it out and followed the human to an elevator.
The human pressed the up arrow. “Agent Montgomery is on the third floor, second office on the right.”
Ethan stepped inside the elevator, hit the button, and waited for the box to make its way to his destination—a hallway with dark paneling and plush burgundy carpet. He glanced from the elaborate woodwork to the paintings on the walls. Brushstrokes marked them as real, not the copies that had decorated the lobby. He couldn’t say they were better, but they were a step up from the bowls of fruit and vases of flowers he’d been forced to stare at for part of the morning.
He scanned the space once more, noting the small cameras and the flush mirror at the far end of the hallway, which he guessed might’ve been a two-way mirror. He couldn’t be sure, nor did he care if he was being watched. He had nothing to hide, other than his shifter status and maybe his parentage. The agent meeting him already knew about the first, and the last was nobody’s business.
The second door to the right of the elevator looked similar to the others. No identification tag marked it as belonging to Agent Montgomery, but none of the doors boasted name plates either. He turned the knob and entered.
The stench of a cat hit him the moment he stepped into the room. He tensed and scanned the interior for the feline shifter the smell belonged to. Only a human female occupied the space. She watched him intently from over the rim of her coffee mug she held poised at her lips. She took the sip he must’ve interrupted by entering, then set the cup with its tiger face on the blotter in front of her.
While he knew there were other shifter species, including all the feline varieties and the bears, he’d never met any. Wolves far outnumbered the other groups, who rarely lived together, thereby missing out on the protective communities that allowed packs to thrive.
He couldn’t tell from where he stood what type of feline shifter had scent-marked the woman, and he wasn’t getting any closer to find out. Feline shifters didn’t claim anyone lightly. The female with her blonde hair wrapped in a high bun and blue-green eyes was important to one of them. Not a mate, though. Her unmarked shoulder confirmed her status. It made the feline’s scent even more unusual, but not enough for him to question. He didn’t care about her personal life as long as she could help him get Owen back.
“Have a seat Mr.”—she glanced at a paper lying on her desk and smirked—“Mr. Lyons.”
The amusement on her face at the mention of his foster parents’ name eased the tension in his muscles. He couldn’t say why, but he instantly liked the woman. “Call me Ethan, please.”
“Good. Ethan, it is. I don’t know if I could’ve been able to keep a straight face calling a wolf shifter Mr. Lyons for very long, and I try to be professional when I can. It’s one of the objectives I’m supposed to work on in this role.”
“Umm…okay.”
She motioned toward the chair in front of her desk. “Well, have a seat, Ethan.”
He took the chair she indicated, then reached into his pocket for the small drive he’d copied the photos onto.
“Wait, let me—” The woman hopped from her chair, nearly spilling her coffee. She blotted at the few drops that had sloshed over the sides with her sleeve, then cursed under her breath. She bit her lip, cutting off the expletive, and offered him another smile. “I’m sorry. Would you like something to drink? Eat? I have plenty of snacks in my desk. I know how hungry shifters can get and—”
“I’m not here on a social call, Agent Montgomery.”
“Ella.” She held her hand out to him. “Call me Ella.”
He glanced from her palm to her face and wondered how much she actually knew about shifters and the faux pas she’d committed. The feline she’d gotten involved with wouldn’t appreciate smelling another male on her, let alone a wolf. The heavy marking her male had left on her made it obvious he wanted his claim known.
“Nice to meet you, but like I said, I’m not here on—”
“A social call. Got it.” She dropped her hand. “So why are you here?”
He stared at her for a moment, then shoved the flash drive back into his pocket. “They didn’t tell you?”
Ella shook her head. “Sorry, but details don’t always get passed along the way they should. Red tape and all that. Your file is still being processed.” She motioned toward the door. “Ronnie had stopped back and asked if I could speak to you, that you were growing impatient. I got your name and species. That’s it.”
Ethan took a slow breath, but it did nothing to calm him. The tips of his fingers burned from the press of his sharpened nails underneath his skin. The human female didn’t deserve his anger. He knew that. Darn if he could leash it.
“Time is of the essence.” He pushed from his seat. “If you can’t help me, I need to look elsewhere. My brother’s life is at stake.”
She leaned forward, all warmth gone from her expression. A hardened one replaced it. “Then tell me what you know. I’ll do my best to help you. I promise.”
He dropped his palms on the desk and matched her intent gaze. Up close, her feline’s scent-marking was nearly nauseating, to him at least. He doubted she even knew it clung to her. Ethan ignored it as best he could and lowered his voice. “Unless you’re familiar with shifter trafficking, you can’t.”
She glanced at where her fingers were wrapped tightly around her coffee mug, the first sign of weakness he’d seen from the bold female who’d held his gaze from the moment he’d entered.
“I’m intimately familiar with it, Ethan.” She focused on him. Rage burned in her eyes. “I spent the last six years of my life in an undercover role that allowed me to infiltrate the largest network in North America. I collected more information than any other human agent. At least I did until a bear shifter decided I’d make a better sex toy than secretary.”
Her nostrils flared. Ella closed her eyes, then worked her jaw back and forth. He watched her struggle with her memories a moment more before gentling his voice. “You were raped?”
“Yes, but my owner didn’t find me too cooperative or submissive once he got his hands on me. He sold me after a week of hell to a group that specialized in…”
She opened her eyes. A haunted look mixed with one of hatred, making her appear crazed or at least unstable. “A group that specialized in hunts where women are the game.”
Silence dropped between them, but she never broke their gaze.
“You escaped.” He stated the obvious.
She shook her head. “No. I lasted two out of the three days without being cornered. Luckily, the guy who got his hands on me was an undercover agent also. He ended up paying the organizers an ungodly amount to buy me, claiming I was his true mate or some bullshit.”
“What type of feline shifter is your male?” Because he still couldn’t tell. Not only had he never met one, he avoided the purely animal varieties in zoos. His presence set the animals on edge.
She shrugged. “No clue, but he’s not my anything. I spent one night with him in his human form before he dropped me on a plane and walked out of my life.”
The slight cracking to her voice on the last part of her statement tugged at him. Sympathy rose. As a human, she wouldn’t understand the pull of true mates or what the separation from one could do to a person.
She probably also didn’t realize her mate hadn’t just rubbed his scent on her skin, which would’ve washed off with her next shower. He’d added it to her body by licking a deep wound, much like what a male did after he bit his mate to help the mark heal. Only, her shifter hadn’t tied them together. He’d simply left her with a permanent reminder of him. Or a warning to all other shifters to stay away from her.
He sighed. “How long has it been since you saw him?”
She ran her finger over the tiger’s image on her cup. “A little over a year.”
“What’s his name?” He might not know any feline shifters, but he could ask around. Some wolf packs shared their territory with them, out of necessity rather than willingness. Often the felines simply moved in without caring if they were on pack lands or not. To avoid fights, they were often left alone.
Ella shoved from her chair, grabbed her mug, and walked to the coffeepot on the opposite side of the room. She poured a cup and added creamer before facing him.
“He never gave me one. In fact, he barely spoke to me other than to tell me he hated the fact that he’d been cursed with a weak, scrawny human for a mate, and that if he ever saw me again, it’d be too soon.”
Ethan inwardly flinched. “I see.”
Ella made her way back to the desk and sat, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “Well, now that I shared my life’s story with you, although I’m not really sure why I did, tell me about your shifter trafficking problem.”
He dropped the thumb drive on the blotter in front of her. “That contains about twenty years of financial transactions I suspect correspond to the disappearances of shifters from my pack. I want them all back, but the one I know is in immediate danger is my brother, Owen.”
She glanced from the desk to him. “Where did you get this?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Then tell me who has been selling your pack mates. We need to bring them in for questioning and possible imprison—”
“That can’t happen.”
Her brows pinched. “And why not? This person might have valuable information that will help us shut down this trafficking ring once and for all.”
“I’m sure he does. Unfortunately, my alpha will take it to the grave with him. I can’t risk him finding out that his secret has been exposed. He’ll retaliate against my loved ones.”
She gave a single nod. “Understood, but what about after you take over? Let us take him into custody. We’ll interrogate him and—”
His earlier thought returned. He tilted his head and studied her through narrowed eyes. “How much do you know about wolf shifters, Agent Montgomery?”
She sighed. “Not much, I’m afraid. I did receive some basic training when I started working as an agent, but nothing in depth.”
“And they haven’t given you more because…?”
She ran her finger around the rim of her mug. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
He swept his gaze over her, then made a choice. “Well, I don’t have time to tell you everything, but I can share the one truth about shifters that will help you understand my dilemma.”
“And that is?”
“The role of alpha is only secured through death or transfer, and I can guarantee you Michael Tanner will never willingly pass on the role of alpha to me. That leaves death. His or mine.”
A considering expression passed over her face. Finally, she inclined her head. “Okay, but what about the hours between now and the full moon? We’ll arrest Michael, get what knowledge out of him we can, then you can have him back. Kill him. Whatever.”
The viciousness of her suggestion tore a chuckle from him, but the reality of his situation stopped him from allowing her idea to take root. “I can’t take the chance. The lives of my pack mates are at stake.”
“If we bring in agents and—”
“No. I claim exemption from human interference in this case.” He hated the idea of pulling the trump card guaranteed to shifters from the historic papers signed over a century ago, but he had no choice. Pack law had to rule. That insisted on death—Michael’s or Ethan’s in a formal challenge under the influence of the full moon.
“Are you making an official claim?”
Which stated that he, as a shifter, was above human law. The lawyer side of him scoffed at the idea. It was unethical. He was going to commit murder. Leave a female widowed and children fatherless. It was for the good of his pack, though. He’d do all he could for Michael’s family. He brought this on himself. That was the harsh truth.
Ethan ignored the uneasy feeling settling in his gut and nodded. “Yes, but I will hand over those shifters I suspect have been helping him. It’s the best I can do.”
Lip caught between her teeth, Ella stared at the small computer drive. “I want access to his computers, at least.”
“Done. You can look at any of my pack mate’s belongings. We have nothing to hide.”
“I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
“No. I’m afraid not. Neither do I.” Though he wished he did.
Close to a minute passed before her shoulders slumped. “All right, then. So…your brother”—Ella picked up the drive and curled her fingers around it—“how long has he been missing?”
“Twenty years.” He’d disappeared days after Mindy had died.
“You do realize he’s probably either dead or has gone feral by now, right?”
Feral.
The word landed hard in his gut. Shifters who embraced their animal side were labeled feral and considered a danger. They were either killed or caged for the rest of their lives.
Owen’s smiling face flashed across Ethan’s mind. Maturity hadn’t dimmed Owen’s boyish looks. His hazel eyes, which had always held a spark of humor, and his mop of unruly dark brown hair added to the image. It was the memory Ethan held close. The anger in Owen’s expression once he realized Ethan wasn’t his blood brother offered another side, one Ethan hoped Owen had embraced, even if it had left him feral. He’d still be alive. The pack could help him heal his broken mind. They couldn’t bring him back from death.
“My brother is strong, but I also have reason to believe he’s been kept alive as a deterrent to stop me from challenging our alpha. I was told if I do, an order will be carried out to end his life.”
She gave a small nod. “Okay, then. That’s good news, I guess. I’ll go through this and start pulling some strings. Hopefully, we’ll get a lead on him in a few weeks.”
“That’s not good enough. I need to know he’s safe by midnight tomorrow.”
“There’s no way I’ll find him in”—she glanced at the clock on the wall behind her—“thirty-three hours.”
“Then Owen will die.”
A murderous look on her face, Ella stood and planted her palms on the desk. “You’re asking the impossible. I can’t—”
He dug out a wrinkled picture of Owen, one of the few he had, and tossed it beside her lion mug. “Then his death can rest on both of us. I can’t wait to make sure he’s safe. Do you understand me?”
Ella inclined her head. “Absolutely. I understand. You’re a coward.”
“No. I’m just a male who’s forced to make the hard decisions for the good of his pack. I can’t risk my pack mates’ safety on the slim possibility I’ll be able to find my brother, a male who may or may not be alive. Just like I can’t risk their lives so you can interrogate Michael.” Ethan let the frustration show in his expression. “Yes, it sucks, and my failure will haunt me for the rest of my life, but that makes me an alpha, not a coward. If you don’t understand the difference, you don’t know what a real coward is.”
“Sure I do, Mr. Lyons. The man who claims to be my true mate is one.”
And Ethan had to agree with her. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything for the human. If her shifter refused the gift he’d been given, there wasn’t a thing anyone could do change his mind.