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Siofra slumped in the corner of her six-foot-wide by six-foot-tall cage, which sat on a flatbed transport truck. Her cage sat in the shade beneath branches covered in leaves, but the whole encampment had an overcast look to it due to netting spread across the open area.
They’d lit some gas lamps, which hung on limbs and gave off enough light for a human to move around, but the shifters still held the advantage with the place surrounded in darkness.
Sheets of plywood had been placed over the center of the area, covering forty or fifty feet across. Tripoli must have done that to prevent the large flatbed trailers parked on the wood from getting stuck.
Way over on the opposite side of the plywood and trailers, Baatar stood with chains stretched from his wrist cuffs to two trees.
Another chain circled his waist with the ends secured to the same trees. Besides that, he wore a titanium collar around his neck. What in the world did they think he was capable of to chain him like a wild beast?
Oh, right. Everyone thought Baatar turned into a tiger.
He could hear her if she spoke, but he wouldn’t want her saying a word in front of these shifters.
Bounty hunter shifters had caught them both this time.
As if that hadn’t been bad enough, Mad Dog Hector from that Black River wolf pack had shown up an hour ago. She lost what little hope she’d had at that point. He’d greeted Tripoli, the shifter in charge of these bounty hunters, like an old friend.
Tripoli walked Hector to the left on the far side of the trailers. The two solid walls at each end of her cage prevented her from seeing past the trailers, but she’d heard Tripoli talking about showing off the other exotics.
Meaning they thought Baatar was an exotic shifter.
Hector had returned with Tripoli to stand in front of Baatar. They discussed her brother as though he were a prize bull.
Hector’s final words had chilled her blood. “I am prepared to top any bid for this one, but only if you can prove he shifts by the auction. I will pay a bonus if he is truly a Siberian tiger.”
Hector left shortly after.
Now they expected Baatar to be a Siberian tiger as well? She worried more for her brother’s safety than hers.
What would happen when Baatar did not shift?
How had Hector not caught her scent?
Not that she was complaining, but an alpha wolf shifter should have smelled her even though she’d flattened her body in the farthest corner of the cage when they’d passed.
Hector hadn’t so much as paused.
Had Tripoli put her in a spelled cage that shielded her scent?
Did he really think someone was going to show up and rescue her?
Siofra dropped her head to her knees. She’d screwed up so badly by leaving Rory without a note. He would have no way to find her. Scarlett had said she was headed to Vermont after leaving the fort.
If Siofra had not tossed Rory’s phone to slow him down, he’d have called Scarlett and possibly spoken to Siofra.
She lifted her head and banged it against the bars, disgusted with her knee-jerk reaction in the hotel room. Yes, she had every reason to doubt most men, but Rory had proven to be nothing like other men or shifters, excluding Baatar.
Rory had been trying to help Siofra when he asked Scarlett to put out feelers for Baatar.
Everything jumbled in her mind, but Siofra knew one thing for sure. If she had confronted Rory and asked him about the phone call, she might not be sitting in a cage and Baatar might not be chained like an animal.
If she ever saw Rory again, she’d apologize. If he gave her the chance, she’d prove she could stop judging him by other men.
The sound of that big Hummer coming back stirred activity. Tripoli’s men had delivered Hector in it earlier.
Groaning, she got up on her toes again to see who Tripoli would show off Baatar to this time.
The shifter driving and the one riding shotgun got out and opened the rear doors.
They hadn’t done that for Hector. Who could be so important?
Siofra’s jaw dropped when Scarlett and Rory got out of the sport utility looking like a pair of lost celebrities. What were they doing?
She had no idea, but her heart did a happy dance at the sight of Rory and she felt a spiral of hope.
That lasted only until she started worrying about Rory and Scarlett being captured, or worse.
When Tripoli walked up to the couple, Scarlett introduced herself as Vivi of New York.
Tripoli said, “Your reputation precedes you. Our mutual friend speaks highly of your ability to represent your clients at auctions. As I told you, I don’t allow that at my auctions. I am not Christie’s to accept anonymous bidding.”
Siofra had read about the famous auction house where wealthy investors sent representatives to bid on expensive collector items, not people.
Unlike the woman Siofra had spent a two-hour ride with to find Baatar, Scarlett now carried herself with the air of someone who bathed in money. “I’ll be honest with you, Tripoli. I suggested Adalbert pass on this auction. He’s been a client for a long time and is not meant for this ... environment.”
Rory, aka Adalbert, had been busy studying the ground around him as if dirt might jump on his pants.
Siofra could not believe this version of Rory, but clearly Tripoli did, because he said, “That would have been disappointing.”
Scarlett continued, “Had I been able to satisfy his newest request for a specific exotic, I would not be here. But I am and so is he.” She turned to Rory, who appeared to pay no attention to the conversation. “Adalbert.”
His lifted his head. “Yes.”
“I’d like to introduce Tripoli, the collector I told you about.”
“Hello, Tripoli.” Rory’s voice held no emotion. “If you have what you claim, I will consider attending the auction.” He brushed his clothes as if dust had dared to settle on him and added, “But I prefer to arrive by helicopter next time, as you clearly have a landing spot.”
Tripoli said, “That is not possible. My auctions have the highest security. Even my men do not know the location until we arrive and no one is given coordinates to use for flying.”
Rory turned to Scarlett. “You should have known all of this, Vivi. I pay you to know these things and not waste my time.”
Scarlett gave him a dramatic sigh. “Give Tripoli a chance to show you what he has, Adalbert. I told you his rules. You said you were willing to attend in person for this particular tiger. I’ve searched everywhere for the past three years and have never found one until now. If you like what you see, perhaps Tripoli will allow me and your money to attend the auction.”
Rory looked at her with a smile. “Brilliant idea. That is why you are my number one representative.”
“I should be your only rep.” She glared at him.
“In time. All things in time.”
“Three years is enough time, Adalbert,” Scarlett groused.
Tripoli cleared his throat and interrupted. “Are you ready to review the exotics?”
Rory ignored Scarlett and turned to Tripoli. “First, do you or do you not have a Siberian tiger?”
That shut up Tripoli, who glanced over at Baatar then back at Rory. “I definitely have a Sumatran tiger and—”
“I said Siberian.”
Huffing in an irritated way, Tripoli said, “I wish to show you the Sumatran first and I do plan to offer a Siberian. Every exotic I have is of great value. Tomorrow’s event will not be a pick and choose auction, but a winner takes all.”
“I could have reviewed everything else before arriving,” Rory said, sending Scarlett a sharp look.
Scarlett shrugged. “Tripoli allows no filming or I’d have delivered videos in person, as usual. Tripoli runs this operation. He calls the shots.”
That vote of support made Tripoli happy.
Rory gave her a peeved look then turned to Tripoli. “Is the Sumatran solid, no mental issues?”
“He’s fine and fierce in battle. He has never lost a fight with any shifter.”
Nodding, Rory said in a cocky tone, “I can do something with that one, but I’m most interested in a Siberian.”
“There is no guarantee you will end up with any of these animals,” Tripoli said with smug confidence. Rory had pissed him off.
Siofra wished she could tell Rory that Hector had been here and planned to win the bid. Or would Hector return with a force of Black River pack shifters to raid this place and take what he wanted? What about Mother Cadellus? Was she in league with Hector, or a different division of that wolf pack?
Rory gave Tripoli a dismissive look. “No one can outbid me if I see something meant to be mine.”
Tripoli’s eyes lit with greed, having heard almost the same thing from Hector. The bounty hunter appeared close to having an orgasm. “I will have your Siberian for tomorrow.”
Looking extremely interested, Rory asked in a hushed voice, “But you absolutely have one?”
Tripoli nodded.
Rory had paid no attention to Baatar, but they’d never met. Scarlett would know Siofra’s brother, but she’d not even glanced his way either.
“Very well, the Siberian will be mine,” Rory claimed with no more emotion than saying he would buy a loaf of bread. He suggested, “You could save yourself the trouble of moving the Siberian and Sumatran to a new location if you gave a demonstration right now and named a price.”
Vivi sucked in a short breath. “Adalbert! He can’t do that. What if he’d sold the tiger to another client before you arrived? You’d be pissed! Tripoli would never risk his reputation by such a move.”
“She is quite correct, Adalbert,” Tripoli said, sounding pleased to have Vivi on his side. “You will have an opportunity to bid tomorrow.”
“Vivi,” Rory said.
She asked, “What?”
“I am not speaking to you, but clarifying that you—Vivi—will bid in my place. This has been an exhausting trip. I care nothing for the battle, only the spoils of victory. You are my general for tomorrow.”
If Siofra had no idea who Rory and Scarlett were, she’d be sold on his act. He depicted an eccentric lunatic too well.
What if Tripoli had accepted his offer to buy the shifters outright?
Scarlett seemed to know these people, which bothered Siofra on one level but not enough to question a potential rescue.
Turning to Baatar, Tripoli waved a hand at him. “This is the Siberian tiger.”
Rory studied Baatar as one would a slab of beef hanging in a cooler. “Can he shift in those chains?”
“No. The ones around his neck and waist are titanium. If the chains did not cut him in half when his massive tiger belly came to the forefront, the cuff at his neck would behead him.”
“Hmm. A sound way to keep your cattle.” Rory started toward Baatar, but Tripoli stepped in front of him. “Do not step over the rocks circling him.”
Backing up, Rory looked down. “You have put a spell around him?”
“Yes. Scents attract other animals and unwanted shifters.”
“I see. I wondered why I could not scent him. Do you have a video of him shifting?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Tripoli said, “He has no alpha to force the change, but I have an incentive. I wish to use it only one time and that will be tomorrow.”
Baatar’s eyes had not moved from staring straight ahead, but they shifted slightly to Siofra. She needed no other confirmation that she would be the incentive.
Rory clarified, “You are sure he will shift at the auction?”
“Of course.”
Appearing satisfied with that explanation, Rory told Tripoli, “Very well. I would like to see the Sumatran.”
Two shifters blocked the path on the far side of the trailers, so Tripoli led Rory and Scarlett toward Siofra, bringing them close to her cage.
She sat still, curious to see if Rory or Scarlett would notice her.
Scarlett glanced up and dismissed her as if Siofra didn’t exist, but when Rory’s gaze lifted to hers, they were furious.
He stared at her too long and Tripoli must have sensed something. The bounty hunter turned and asked, “Do you know this one?”
Siofra heard the whip of suspicion in his voice and froze.
Rory huffed. “No. Is she a shifter? There is no scent here.”
“Unfortunately no. She was caught much as crabs are trapped in nets intended for fish,” Tripoli replied. “I planned to unload her at a different time, but if you wish I will give you a price for this one now.”
Rory abruptly said, “Not interested.
She knew he was playing a role and told her heart not to listen, but the words cut.
What if he truly didn’t care anymore? Had he only come out of duty to his boss and his fury was about the trouble she’d caused him?
She sat back hard, feeling more alone than ever.
Not for long.
Her female ghost, who showed up occasionally and never spoke, appeared opposite her in the cage. She’d been young when she died if her thirtyish appearance was accurate. She had blond hair held back by a wide cloth band, pale eyes and a pretty mouth. She seemed comfortable sitting there in her usual jeans and T-shirt professing Live. Love. Laugh. worn loosely over them and no jewelry, plus always barefoot.
Siofra had given up asking what the ghost wanted after never receiving a reply in her head. Now, she stared at the woman, glad for even translucent company.
The woman had a nice smile. She’d probably been a mental case when she lived, unable to speak, but she always smiled at Siofra as if sincerely happy to see her.
Only a loon would be happy to see Siofra here.
The woman positioned her arms as if she held a make-believe baby, then moved her arms back and forth. She cooed to the nonexistent child while looking at Siofra expectantly.
Siofra sighed and kept her voice soft. “I don’t know what happened to your baby, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The woman grimaced and shook her head then pointed at Siofra.
A rogue wind blew Siofra’s hair back. “Hey, be careful with that finger if it’s loaded.”
Rolling her eyes, the woman slapped her forehead.
Siofra had never seen this one attempt to communicate even this much. The last time she’d seen her, the woman had held her feet to the ground while Dyson attacked Siofra, then stopped Siofra from running away when the little Toto dog approached on the side of the road.
Checking to each side that no one was near, Siofra said, “Maybe you should try writing in the sand. I’m not good at guessing games.”
At the sound of Rory, Scarlett and Tripoli approaching from the direction they’d walked, her ghost vanished. Tripoli sounded exuberant, as if he mentally counted his gold.
Loud talking from the path the Hummer used to travel through the woods drew Siofra’s attention to what she considered the entrance.
Four men emerged from the trees. The same ones that had captured her and Baatar. Probably all shifters.
One of them had been pumped up with so much steroid, or whatever shifters used, that his arms wouldn’t lie flat on the sides of his body. She could only imagine what kind of monster he hid inside of him.
Because of that creep and the way he’d leered at her, she’d been glad to be shoved in a cage.
Everything had been rocking along quietly until that bruiser walked up to Tripoli, Scarlett and Rory.
He inhaled, expanding his wide chest as if he planned to blow a house down on his exhale.
That would have been so much better than him pointing at Scarlett and shouting, “You’re the shifter that brought the caged woman to this guy.” He swung his dark gaze to Rory. “And you stink of that bitch’s scent.”
Steroid Guy pointed at Siofra.
