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Rory clenched his fist for the hundredth time, impatient to get his hands around the neck of anyone harming Siofra. Had to be the worst Friday of his life and with the clock approaching eight in the evening it was still far from over.
Riding in the passenger seat didn’t lower his blood pressure at all, especially since he’d rented this Mercedes, but Scarlett had made a solid point about being in character as much as possible. Her character in this dangerous game would be the driver.
Also, he hadn’t wanted to waste time in a power struggle.
She could drive as long as she didn’t lose time. So far she’d kept a steady pace of five miles over the speed limit. This had better work.
He would not lose Siofra.
“Cut it out,” Scarlett snapped.
“What?” How could this woman find something wrong when he’d been quiet for most of the trip?
“Your anger is generating some nasty energy and it’s crawling across my skin.”
Sometimes his Gallize brethren would power up to the point it was irritating to one another, but that was because their energies were equally strong and battling for dominance.
Was Scarlett that powerful?
First he calmed down and felt his body relax, then he asked, “Just what are you?”
“Oh, I’ll show you mine then you show me yours? Pass.”
“What crawled up your ass and died?” Rory asked. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you and understand why my energy clashed with yours. I already told you I’m a jaguar. What’s the big deal about your animal? You already said it’s a cat.”
He must have gotten through to her, because her stiff profile relaxed and she ran a hand through her thick hair in an agitated motion. “I’m a cougar.”
“Not many of those around.”
“Nope.”
“You’re powerful. Don’t deny it, because I felt your energy rise in defense against mine.”
“I’m strong enough for what I need to do. End of discussion.”
That was fun for the ten seconds it took her to shut him down. What a loner, and crabby as hell.
Ferrell had been worked up around Scarlett at first, but he’d settled down during the ride. Now he sent Rory an image of Rory and Scarlett lying next to each other in a giant pea pod.
Wiseass.
Damn. Had he been just as difficult as Scarlett to be around before he met Siofra?
Ferrell sent him an image of a smut-black pot and kettle.
You’re fucking hilarious, Rory grumbled telepathically.
But his jaguar was right. Rory kept seeing his life as before Siofra and after Siofra.
It still hurt that she’d run away from him, but not because he’d been mean in any way. He’d known all along that she could be a flight risk. He’d gotten confortable and assumed they were still on the same page.
He asked Scarlett, “Did Siofra really think I was going to lock her up?”
“In hindsight, I don’t think so. She thought the night you talked to me on the phone that you were talking to your people about catching Baatar to take in. I think she assumed that would mean her being contained, too, which she clearly doesn’t want.”
“I wouldn’t have done that.”
Slicing a look of disbelief his way, she asked, “You mean if Baatar turns out to somehow be a tiger shifter that you have no plans to take him to your boss?”
He opened his mouth to explain his job, but Scarlett didn’t care about his duty any more than Siofra had when it came to her brother. In truth, he did need to take Baatar to the Guardian if Siofra’s brother turned out to be a tiger shifter, but the Guardian wouldn’t lock him away.
The problem was that Rory would have to explain the Gallize to Scarlett and Siofra to convince them his intentions were honorable when it came to Baatar.
As for Siofra, Rory would allow no one to lock her up.
He said, “She was right and wrong. If Baatar is a tiger shifter, I would have to take him to headquarters. But my boss would not put him in a cage or misuse him. Baatar would be treated really well and given specialized training, then he could be free once he could control his beast.”
“Why would your boss even think Baatar might be a tiger shifter?”
“We have a seer in our group. She told him.”
Scarlett’s eyebrow lifted at that. “Hmm. She a shifter, too?”
“Yep.”
After another stretch of silence, Scarlett asked, “What kind of shifters are all of you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Now you’re insulting me. I’ve felt a load of power over the years, but what you were generating earlier was substantial and not close to full strength. Then there’s your boss. His power is off the charts when he’s at rest.”
She was right, but Rory couldn’t talk about the Gallize. “I don’t mean to insult you, but we both have our secrets. Ask my boss that question. He’s the best one to answer it.”
Nodding, she said, “You guys are like dealing with a bunch of shifters trained to be SEALs. A bunch of ghosts. I never knew you existed until I got to know Tess and then met Cole at that meeting. He’s not cut out to be a pack member unless he takes the alpha role. That goes for you and the bear as well.”
“You’ve pretty much summed us up. I’d tell you more if I could, but I can’t. Let’s work on our plan.”
“Nothing to work on. My contacts will have everything in place for us to get inside the location and spend just long enough to survey everything. We locate Siofra and Baatar. You make an offer, like we talked about, then tell them you’ll be back tomorrow for the auction. We’ll know exactly what we have to do to break them out tonight by the time we leave.”
She sounded too confident, just like he had on his first big mission. Everything looked good on paper, but the minute things went to shit he’d been glad Sammy had gone in with a backup plan.
Damn, he missed that big grizzly shifter.
Thinking about how the Black River pack had killed Sammy would only piss Rory off and flood this cab with energy again.
He said, “If it goes down like that, I’m thrilled, but we need to think of contingency plans.”
“Like what?”
“Like we walk in and they don’t buy our story, so they capture us too.”
She pfft. “Not going to happen. They might get you, but they won’t cage me.”
Damn, he hated overconfidence, but from what he could tell she’d worked alone a long time. It might not be arrogance speaking so much as a deep survival instinct and the fear of losing her freedom.
Still, if she was his partner in this, they had to be on the same page.
Holding back his warning tone and going with a conversational one, he said, “I’m in agreement on not wanting to end up caged, but we have to get our signals straight now so there’s no confusion if something does go fubar, don’t you think?”
Flipping on her blinker, she turned off Highway 27 to take a back road that hadn’t been resurfaced in a long time. The sedan bounced through the occasional rut and pothole as she delayed her answer.
Running her fingers over her hair again, she said, “I’m definitely in on rescuing them, but I am not allowing anyone to cage me. All the signals in the world will not change that.”
Shit. He let it go.
He had his own contingency plan, though it had a few holes.
The deeper they drove into the backcountry of western Maine, the more Rory felt eyes on their car.
Could be his imagination or that sixth sense keeping him alert. Scarlett’s contacts were wolf shifter bounty hunters, of all things, a group she swore by. She said they ran down criminal humans, not shifters. For that reason, she’d developed a relationship with them where she paid them well to hunt for female shifters in trouble and feed her intel from the shifter communities.
Without that connection, they’d never have been able to find this auction site so quickly or be allowed to enter. Her bounty hunter allies had connections inside the auction system so he and Scarlett had to be careful not to blow their covers.
North of Saddleback Mountain, she slowed to watch for a tree with an X carved into it. Humans would have to be walking up closer to the tree to see it, but Rory spotted the mark right away.
“There it is, Scarlett.”
She slowed all the way to a stop, keeping an eye on her rearview mirror. “No one coming from either direction.”
Rory jumped out and strode to the tree where he could see two paths carved by tires a little way in behind a fallen tree. He found the upper area of the downed tree and lifted it, then walked the tree up enough for her to drive under. Once she was inside, he lowered the trunk across the path again, then moved the tall brush back in place.
If they had to make a run for it with the car, this would be a problem.
Climbing back in, he lifted a pair of shooter’s glasses with yellow lenses from the seat next to him and slid them into place. Scarlett had unloaded a treasure trove of useful items from hidden compartments in her truck before they left it at his last hotel and took off.
He pulled the black ball cap with a hockey logo onto his head. He and Scarlett had discussed the plan by phone while she’d driven to pick him up in Portland. They’d spent most of the afternoon acquiring anything they didn’t have, such as the Mercedes sedan, needed to make an impression.
She’d told Rory he would play the part of a financially independent, but reclusive, shifter who bought exotic shifters. She had an identity already built for the recluse, and she’d used it with another man two years back, which gave it some depth and credibility. As for her, she’d enter as arm candy who attended auctions, representing the recluse.
Before Rory had hung up, she’d given him a list of clothing to have ready when she arrived.
He’d had a hell of a time finding the top she wore on short notice. He’d never shopped for women’s clothing, but she looked the part in a sheer red top that could be see-through if she turned just right in the light. Tiny sequins covered the red material, catching any light when she moved.
The male shifters would probably be too focused on her prominent boobs to notice any sparkles.
She’d changed into a tight pair of silk shorts with bling along the sides, unbraided her hair and dropped her head down to brush the wavy mass. Pretty amazing when all those small braids turned into a full head of brunette hair. Gave her more of a wild and exotic look. The last things she’d put on had been a pair of fuck-me shoes, long, flashy earrings, and layers of fine chains. She’d finished it off with red lipstick.
He’d found a black sport coat and coordinating dress pants for his part, and wore a tie-dyed T-shirt beneath it.
From another box, she’d produced all sorts of jewelry and other accessories, including a wig neither of them needed. He’d had to take a second look at the Louis Moinet Magistralis watch, because someone had crafted a great reproduction.
The real Magistralis rose-gold watch had an actual piece of the moon in it from a lunar meteorite, just one of the reasons the price tag ran in the high six figures.
He’d complimented her on the prop, which caught her off guard, but he had to admit it was a brilliant touch. There were duplicates of this watch being sold alongside fake Rolexes on occasion, but this particular faux watch would pass a quick inspection.
Based on the history she’d built for Adalbert Wauters, Rory’s new identity, he was a Dutch recluse who enjoyed unusual shifter auctions, but rarely came out of hiding. When he did, it made news in the underground world. That she’d actually represented the elusive Wauters in past auctions aided her credibility to enter any illegal auction.
She claimed to have never had anyone else show up in person as him, only rumors she carefully fed to the black market community, but there were always risks with this kind of undercover.
The time spent getting ready and renting the car would have put him over the edge, but they couldn’t arrive before eight in the evening.
On the dot. If they were late, they wouldn’t be met.
If they were more than five minutes early, they’d regret it. Simple rules.
When Scarlett drove up to a wide, deep gulley that could be crossed only by footbridge, Rory noted the second major obstacle to a fast escape.
Not being able to turn the car around would be obstacle number three.
The last hundred feet of the trail had been lined with fallen trees when the live ones were spaced too far apart to prevent going off the path.
The minute he stepped out of the car, he owned the role of Adalbert, complaining in a thick voice, “First you make me ride from Portland and bounce me down a cow path through the forest. Now I am expected to walk the rest of the way? I have been in some remote areas, but this is absolutely primitive.”
Scarlett had been picking her way around the front. “You said you wanted in. I got you in. I didn’t set the guidelines on how we arrive. Ask them about flying in by helicopter tomorrow.”
He scowled at everything in general. “If they do not have the prize I am expecting, there will be no tomorrow.”
Scarlett looked across the ravine. “Ready?”
“No. I am having second thoughts,” he said and it wasn’t far from the truth, but nothing would prevent him going to find out if Siofra was there.
“Are you kidding me? After all I went through to arrange this so you could come in person?”
“Are you so sure you can trust these shifters?”
She snapped, “I trust my contacts. They like the money I pay them. If they say it’s safe, then it’s safe. You should be worried about them trusting you.”
He searched the surrounding woods one last time and said, “Fine. We shall go. The bridge will probably fall apart before we reach the other side. I am not going to be happy if anything happens to this shirt after what I went through to gain it.”
“I’ll tie-dye you another one,” she quipped, keeping her balance as she moved ahead of him across the narrow walkway.
He put his arms out as if he struggled to keep his balance. “Very funny. I would not pay nine thousand dollars for yours. A master created this one.”
“I’d save you eight thousand, nine hundred and eighty-five dollars, Adalbert, and bet you that extra amount that ten people off the street couldn’t tell the difference.”
She’d win.
He’d taken a gold marker and scribbled a name at the bottom edge of the T-shirt he’d bought for fifteen dollars.
On the other side of the bridge, Scarlett hurried off and let out a loud sigh. “Glad that’s done.”
“Indeed.” He stepped onto firm land and two shifters appeared from where they’d been hiding behind trees and brush.
Scarlett startled for real, as if she hadn’t scented them.
Rory hadn’t either.
He sniffed the air. Magic had been used.
Once they dropped the spell shielding their scents, the first shifter smelled like a bear and the other a fox.
Best to pay closest attention to the bear shifter talking.
“Mr. Wauters?”
Rory arranged a suspicious expression on his face. “Yes?”
“We’re here to escort you and Vivi. My alpha apologizes for not suggesting you fly in, but his intense security is what will keep you and others safe when we move to the auction site tomorrow.”
Shit, that meant this bunch would be on the move tonight. Rory said, “Apology accepted if you have adequate transportation.”
“Yes, sir. If you’ll follow me.” The shifter led Rory and Scarlett through a path to a ... helicopter.
Fuck.
They climbed in and were handed black bags, which Rory and Scarlett pulled over their heads. The chopper lifted off, flew for five minutes and landed, but Rory had no idea if they’d flown miles or in a circle to land close to where they were picked up.
With the bags in place, they were led to a Hummer and helped inside.
The same shifter said, “Apologies for the inconvenience, but we’ll be there shortly.”
The security these shifters set up would be tough to breach even if someone could find them.
Rory had to keep his head if they found Siofra and Baatar. He’d have to calmly observe them as captives, then walk out of the camp with Scarlett so Rory could call in a team to help him extract them.
The plan had one potential flaw.
Once he found Siofra, the idea of walking away without her in hand would be the most difficult thing he’d ever done.
He had every intention of sticking with their strategy for the sake of getting Siofra out safely, but he had serious doubts about Ferrell agreeing.
With their connection getting weaker every day, his jaguar could break loose on his own if he stopped listening to Rory.
