Growling under his breath, he stepped in front of her. Male shifters always went out first. It was a matter of checking for danger. Back when they’d been dating it had driven her crazy, until he’d explained what he was doing. Sending a female into an unknown situation made no sense and he didn’t understand the human tradition of males letting females walk into buildings first.
As he glanced around the quiet neighborhood with a newly fallen layer of frosty snow on the ground, Kat brushed past him, pure attitude rolling off her.
He wasn’t sure what was going on in that head of hers, but he liked watching the sway of her ass as she headed for his bike.
Wordlessly she put on the helmet he handed to her and snapped the tinted visor in place, blocking his view of her eyes. Sighing, he slid in front of her and savored the feel of her arms wrapped around him as he pulled out of the driveway. When she pressed her breasts tight against his back he figured he could deal with her anger as long as she was in his life.
* * *
“So what exactly are we doing here?” Kat whispered to Jayce as she peered around a giant oak tree. They’d parked about a mile off the highway, then trekked through the woods to come up behind a biker bar where two APL members had been killed. She certainly wouldn’t be losing any sleep over their deaths. She could just barely see the outline of the one-story building through the cluster of trees. Crime scene tape looped around a few trees and the scent of death tickled her nose. It was fading but there nonetheless.
“Trying to get a scent,” he murmured without looking at her.
“Of who?” They hadn’t been able to talk on the ride over and she hadn’t wanted to talk to him as they’d run through the woods. Too many conflicting thoughts raced through her head.
“Whoever killed those men. The cops seem pretty sure it’s a shifter because of the bite imprints, and if it’s the same one who killed that bartender Friday night, he’s escalating. Three new kills in a twenty-four-hour period is extreme.”
“Could it be a feral shifter?” She’d heard the term a few times, though she wasn’t exactly sure what it meant other than a shifter gone crazy.
Jayce shook his head. “A feral shifter doesn’t think about stealth hunting or hiding from its prey. It goes mad, its eyes turn bloodred, and when it goes on a killing spree, it’s usually put down almost immediately.”
“Why?”
“Because feral shifters have no survival instinct. They attack anything that smells like food, but they don’t worry about protecting themselves. Whoever did this planned the killings. They’re too far apart for it to be a feral wolf—but too close together for this to be anything other than shitty. Not to mention that two of the killings were indoors. Ferals go for easy, accessible prey.”
“Oh.” The bartender she’d gone home with had been killed on Friday and it was now Tuesday morning. Not even a full week had passed. And this time three men had been killed. That was a definite escalation. She might not know much about shifter life, but she knew the locals would start to get angry if things got any worse. They’d already started to show signs of hostility—the crazy lady harassing December and then those teenagers trying to vandalize her store. If they’d been more evil-minded they could have thrown something worse than a rock. And it could have hit December. Not to mention the antagonistic vibe Kat had gotten at the restaurant from other diners. Angry locals would be bad for the pack . . . her pack. The sudden, territorial urge to protect her own surprised her. It surged through her violently. The thought of anyone doing this and causing her pack harm made her see red. “Do you scent what you came for?”
He shook his head. “Stay here.” Without waiting for a response, he moved with a speed that stunned her.
She blinked and he was twenty yards in front of her by another giant tree. He’d definitely been holding back during their jog here. It always amazed her to see him in action. Jayce looked like a roughneck but he had amazing grace and skill.
Moments later he was back. “Come on.”
Without questioning him, she fell in line as they began their trek back to his waiting motorcycle.
Once they reached it, she leaned against the bike, perching on the edge of the seat. They were far enough off the road that they’d be hidden if anyone drove by. “So what did you find?”
A curious frown marred his face. “I scented a beta wolf who’s been missing from the Menuci pack.”
“Menuci pack?” That sounded vaguely familiar.
He nodded. “They live near the coast. Four or five hours from here. I stopped there on the way back to Fontana at the Council’s request, but they didn’t have any new leads and I couldn’t help them with a missing-person case gone cold.”
“I thought betas were supposed to be weaker or at least less aggressive.”
“They’re both of those things. In wolf form a beta could kill humans, but he would have to have a damn good reason to do so. It goes against their nature.”
“So what would make a beta wolf kill four humans unprovoked?”
She could practically see the wheels turning in Jayce’s head. “He and his pregnant mate are missing.”
The bottom dropped out of Kat’s stomach. She wouldn’t put it past the APL to use a pregnant woman as leverage to control someone. There might be no connection, but . . . “You think the APL has his mate?”
Jayce’s face was grim. “I don’t know. It would make a good incentive for him to become a killing machine. And I’ve seen it happen before. Alphas who want to use betas will sometimes threaten their mates.”
“Alphas do that?”
“They don’t stay in power long, but it has happened.” His voice was razor-sharp and she had no doubt that he had eliminated Alphas like that.
That made her smile internally. She’d heard that shifters were afraid of Jayce, but he wasn’t some mercenary. He meted out justice and helped those who were weaker. It made her proud.
“So what are we going to do?”
“Track him. The scent is faint, but I can smell it near the road from here. He headed south, back toward town. If we’re lucky, he’s staying nearby.”
“You’re taking me with you?” She couldn’t hide her surprise.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” His words were a soft growl.
She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. His confession of last night still rang loudly in her head. I fucking love you. Even the way he’d said it was all Jayce. If he’d gotten all mushy she probably would have scoffed at him, but he’d been blunt, honest, and exactly himself. Why did she like that so much? Instead of responding she slid the helmet on her head, thankful that it covered her eyes from his penetrating gaze.
Riding around with Jayce might wreak havoc on her hormones and her heart, but it was damn interesting learning more about pack life. For the first time in over a month she felt useful again. Not like a shadow of her former self just trying to train enough to defend against potential attackers. She actually felt good about what they were doing. If they could figure out who was behind these killings, it could exonerate her pack from any wrongdoing. The more she adjusted to her new body and life, the more she realized she wanted to embrace them as her own.
* * *
Erin stood around Connor and Ana’s kitchen drinking coffee with Noah and Ryan. The cops had left—judgmental jerks that they were—so Connor and Ana were getting everyone else settled down again. Erin wasn’t worked up, though; she was just annoyed.
She hated anyone taking her DNA. The swab was painless, but it just felt invasive. On one level she understood why the cops were doing it. The recent killings had apparently been vicious and there was no doubt they had been perpetrated by a shifter. Especially since the first man killed had been massacred in his home, his head completely torn off. Regular animals just didn’t do that. But law enforcement didn’t treat humans this way. If someone was killed by “normal” standards, the authorities didn’t round up all the humans in town and test their DNA. On an intellectual level she understood that it wasn’t the same thing at all, but it still irked her inner wolf. Made her testy and ready for a fight.
Unfortunately they were on lockdown until Connor said otherwise. Of course Jayce was out there—not that he was a member of the pack—with Kat, having all the fun of tracking down whoever had been doing these killings. Erin’s fists clenched. Someone was making their pack look bad and they were going to pay. If Jayce didn’t find them first, she was itching for a go at whoever was responsible.
Jayce had said he’d tell her when she was ready to act on her own as an enforcer, but she felt ready. Maybe not to be completely on her own—not that she’d admit that to anyone, especially him—but a small investigation on her own was something she knew she could handle. But Jayce hadn’t given her the go-ahead.
“I hate being on lockdown,” she growled.
Noah shrugged, his dark eyes unreadable. Ever since she’d told him they could only be friends—all of a day and a half ago—he’d been different. Not weird, but she felt like he was plotting something. Being all acquiescent and okay with what she’d said, when he’d been her shadow for a year. It was infuriating.
Bored and feeling edgy, she shot Noah a look she hoped he understood as Ryan murmured his agreement into his cup of coffee.
Noah’s eyebrows raised a teeny tiny fraction—just enough that no one else would have noticed it. But of course she did. She noticed everything about him whether she wanted to or not. “I wonder how long Connor will keep us on lockdown,” she said.
Ryan’s shoulders lifted. “Who cares?”
She knew why he didn’t care. It meant no duty assignments away from the ranch, which meant no time away from Teresa. He might not be willing to admit it, but he was pining for her something fierce. So when Erin turned to Noah she barely held the grin back. “I bet Teresa’s bummed. Didn’t you tell me she had plans with some human male in town? Matt, right? The man who owns that Native American store with his mother?”