Ryder and the boys fell quiet as Grant walked out of the cabin with the accountant. Their alpha looked more frightened than the time he got ambushed by four dragon shifters. It made sense to Ryder. Only Grant’s life was on the line with the dragon shifters.

But with the accountant, there were more important things at risk.

“That doesn’t look good,” Logan muttered. He was lazily strumming his guitar while he floated on a huge pink flamingo in their in-ground pool.

“Nope,” Ryder said as he held his breath, watching his cousin and alpha walk the accountant to his car. “Not good at all.”

Ryder knew his cousin well, and he could tell by the way that Grant’s normally proud shoulders were curled forward that the business was in bad shape.

Grant and Ryder’s grandfather had left them the Clayton Rock Bounty Hunters with a mountain of debt that was higher than the real mountains that bordered their Montana ranch.

Gramps always did like to gamble. He also liked women. And luxury cars. And spending money. And whiskey. And cocaine.

All expensive hobbies to say the least.

The accountant drove off and Grant still stood there, staring at the cloud of dust as it swallowed him up. He was still standing there looking like a lost puppy when Ryder jumped out of the pool and hurried over.

“How bad?”

Grant squeezed his eyes shut as he ran his hand over his shaved head. “Fucking Gramps,” he said, exhaling hard. “Did he really need twelve luxury cars?”

Ryder let out a soft laugh as he turned to the parking area beside their dilapidated storefront that nobody ever came too unless they were trying to collect some money. There was a row of old antique cars lined up in various forms of disrepair. Sixty years later and they were still driving them. That’s all they could afford. Well, that and the one pickup truck that looked almost as old.

“Gramps bought a lot of things that he didn’t need,” Ryder answered. “Too bad he didn’t buy the things that he did need, like some basic lessons in personal finance.”

“Lucky us,” Grant said with a sigh, “we get to clean it up.”

Ryder steeled himself. “How bad?”

“Bad.”

The two cousins looked at each other for a long moment. They both knew what was at stake.

The Clayton Rock Ranch had been in their family, the Clayton family, for centuries. It was over two thousand acres of pristine lakes, forests, rivers, mountains, valleys—you name it, it had it.

It was a family heirloom entrusted to them that was supposed to be passed on to the next hundred or so future generations. They couldn’t be the one to lose it. Their family legacy couldn’t die with them.

They would both rather die than let that happen.

Ryder felt the enormous pressure to protect the ranch, but he knew that it was even heavier for Grant. He was the oldest male cousin. He was the one who inherited it and was entrusted to keep it safe and protected for the future Clayton family generations.

Ryder did not envy him, especially considering he was about to fail the one thing that he was born to do.

“Let’s go get a drink.” Ryder slid his arm over his cousin’s tight shoulders and walked him back to the pool.

Logan was still strumming on the guitar as his pink flamingo slowly sailed along the pool, and Mack and Bryce were arm-wrestling over the granite bar.

It seemed like everything on the ranch was falling apart these days, except their backyard. They had a sick in-ground pool that looked like it was straight out of the Playboy mansion. Grant had spoiled them a few years ago after they had tracked down an outlaw crew of tiger shifters all the way down in Costa Rica and busted them. The reward money was enough to buy the pickup truck and the new pool.

What started out as a simple overground pool quickly snowballed and they ended up with a huge in-ground pool complete with a gorgeous waterfall that cascaded down the huge rock-wall, a private grotto to swim into, an attached hot tub, a swim-up granite pool bar, a massive tiki hut with flat-screen TVs hung up underneath—all surrounded by lush plants and flowers.

It was probably the best pool in Montana and people in their financial situation definitely should not have had the best pool in Montana. It seemed that Ryder and Grant were more of their Gramps than they would have liked to admit.

“Again,” Bryce said after Mack beat him in an arm wrestling match for the thirty-four thousandth time.

Mack grinned. “You’re not going to beat me, twerp.”

“One day, I will.” Bryce was only fifteen years old and was a scrawny little punk compared to the powerhouse of the team, a cranky old lion shifter named Mack. But the kid was never lacking in confidence. That was for sure.

Ryder walked around the bar and poured Grant a beer from the way-too-expensive tap they had installed.

“Better pour one for everyone,” Grant said as he flopped the folder onto the bar and sat down with a huff.

Logan used his guitar as a paddle and paddled the pink flamingo over as Ryder poured three more beers.

“I don’t get one?” Bryce asked, looking insulted.

Ryder raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you have ID?”

“I have a badass lion inside of me,” Bryce said, puffing out his scrawny chest. “Does that count?”

“Only if he’s over twenty-one.”

Mack laughed as they made their way over. “Put it in a sippy cup for the little twerp.”

“Grant?” Bryce said, turning to the alpha who had his head in his hands.

“Just… whatever…” Grant said, looking to beaten down to argue. “Just give the kid a beer.”

Bryce had a wide grin on his face as Ryder poured him a beer and slid it down the bar. His grin quickly turned into a grimace when he took a sip of the thick ale. It wasn’t for beginners.

Logan climbed out of the pool and everyone waited for their alpha to speak.

“It’s not good,” Grant finally said. “The governor is trying to force us out.”

But Ryder already knew that. The governor of Montana, a sleazy swamp-monster named William Reyes wanted to re-zone their land for a massive real estate project that would destroy the Clayton family heirloom, not to mention would also leave Mr. Reyes a multi-millionaire. He had been throwing everything at them from extra taxes, to fines, to trying to seize parts of it for ‘environmental’ reasons, to suing them and drowning them in litigation fees. He was brutal and relentless in his quest to drive them to bankruptcy.

If Mr. Reyes ever got his greedy hands on this land it would be chopped up and sold to the highest bidders — condo developers, mining companies, you name it. Within a few years, the lakes would be polluted, the forests chopped down, the mountains hollowed out, and Grant would have failed the one task he was born to do.

“The governor just added an estate tax to our growing pile of debt,” Grant explained.

“An estate tax?!?” Ryder said, snapping his head back in shock. “But Gramps died ten years ago!”

Grant just sighed in defeat as he traced his finger along the rim of his beer. “Reyes really dug into the books for this one. He had to go all the way back to a law passed in 1864 during the Montana gold rush. It hasn’t been enforced in over a hundred and fifty years.”

“He can’t do that!” Bryce said, slamming his fist onto the bar.

Grant sighed. “He just did.”

“We need to make more money,” Ryder said. He was already thinking of ways that he could bring in a few extra bucks. Their business had been so slow for the past six years, ever since the dragons came swooping into town and cleaned up all of the gangs and outlaws. The town was safe and beautiful, but there wasn’t exactly a lot of business for the local bounty hunters to sink their teeth into.

“I can try to get the boys to play more gigs,” Logan said, glancing at his guitar. He played in a band named Predatone with Caleb from The Grisly Grizzlies and a couple of other shifters from town.

Ryder knew that his band only got paid enough for beer money, but it was still more than he could bring in at the moment so he kept his mouth shut.

“I know,” Mack said as he stood up.

Ryder was already shaking his head. Mack was the muscle of the crew, a huge lion shifter that towered over all of them. But running all of that muscle took a lot of brain power and there wasn’t much left for anything else.

“We should sell the pool.”

Logan exhaled long and hard. “Sell the pool?”

“Yeah,” Mack said, nodding. “It’s pretty much brand new and it cost a fortune.”

Bryce dropped his head. “Oh, my God,” he mumbled under his breath.

Ryder turned to his cousin. “Of course our business is going under. This is the kind of genius we have.”

“People love pools,” Mack said, trying to sell his idea. “It shouldn’t be hard to sell.”

“Great idea, Mack,” Logan said, playing with him. “Should we include the water?”

Mack was nodding.

“Think about it,” Logan said. “How are you going to sell a pool?”

Mack shrugged. “With money.”

Logan just shook his head as he stared at the large man in awe. “I swear if you crack his skull open it would be as hollow as a coconut.”

Mack frowned.

“How are you going to move it?”

“Oh,” Mack said as it dawned on him. He scratched his head like a gorilla trying to puzzle something together. “Oh, right.”

Ryder turned away and looked over at Sloth. Their lazy fat orange cat was stretched out on a lawn chair, sound asleep. Ryder envied him. That cat didn’t have to worry about unpaid bills or unemployment or losing his family home. In fact, Ryder sometimes wondered if that nearly-comatose cat ever once worried about anything in his entire life.

“We need a job,” Grant said as he stared into his beer. “A big one.”

Logan had picked up his guitar and was already strumming it again. The guy loved music and always came with a soundtrack. “Where the hell are we supposed to find that?”

“I don’t know,” Grant said with a deep breath. “But if we find one, it will be a miracle.”

And lucky for them, a few days later, that miracle came.

They weren’t even the ones to find it. It was dropped on their lap like a Christmas morning gift.

Grant was ecstatic. He rushed out of the main cabin, swinging a paper over his head. “Two million dollars!” he shouted. “Two freaking million!”

“For what?” Ryder asked, worried that his cousin had finally broken down from the stress.

“We got a new client!” Grant said. Ryder hadn’t seen his cousin smile like that in years. “And he’s offering us two million dollars for a job!”

Ryder nearly fainted. Two million dollars was enough to pay off the Governor’s bullshit debts and taxes. And maybe enough to get him off their back for good.

“Who is this mystery client?”

“He calls himself G.H.,” Grant said. “And all we have to do is track down and capture a polar bear shifter.”

“A polar bear shifter?” Mack said with a laugh as he walked over. “I could do that with my paws tied behind my back.”

Grant pulled a paper from his back pocket as Logan and Bryce came rushing over to hear the good news. There was a newspaper article printed on it.

Eighty-six people dead in small Northern town!

Ryder cringed as he looked at the photo of the polar bear shifter who did it. He had a fierce look in his eye as he stared at the camera from the side.

“This shifter went wild and massacred a bunch of people,” Grant said. “His name’s Grease.”

“Grease?” Bryce said, cocking his head.

“On account that he sells whale grease in a small whaling town up north,” Grant explained. “Well, at least he did before he went all Jack from The Shining and killed everyone.”

Mack started cracking his knuckles. “You guys chill by the pool. I’ll go solo on this one.”

“No,” Grant snapped. “Everything is on the line with this one. We all go together.”

Bryce perked up. “Even me?”

Grant turned to him, considering it.

“No,” Mack snapped, viciously shaking his head. “Too dangerous. You break your cherry on a chipmunk shifter, not a polar bear shifter who killed eighty-six people.”

As much as Mack pretended to be annoyed by the ‘little twerp,’ he was very protective of Bryce. After nearly killing him when they first met, he had taken him under his wing and taught him everything he knew, which admittedly wasn’t much. Ryder had never seen Mack get attached to anything before, and he could tell that Bryce was becoming like a son to the big cat.

And Bryce was just as attached to Mack. He followed him everywhere. Of course, Mack always pretended like it annoyed him, but Ryder could tell he loved having the kid around. He wasn’t nearly as grumpy when Bryce was by his side.

“Please, Grant,” Bryce said, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Grant watched him for a long moment. “You stay near Mack.”

“Yes!” Bryce said, pumping his fist.

“You don’t engage,” Grant said in a firm voice. “You watch and you learn. This is not training anymore. This is serious and although this shifter shouldn’t be a problem with the four of us, you never know.”

Bryce started doing a happy dance.

“I’m serious, Simba,” Grant snapped, grabbing his attention. “You don’t leave Mufasa’s side.”

Mack dropped a heavy arm around the kid, nearly crumpling him. “And you keep that crazy kitty locked up tight or I’ll grab him by the tail and beat the polar bear with him.”

Bryce was laughing but Ryder wasn’t sure if Mack was kidding or not. He’d seen Mack do crazier things than that before.

“This is serious,” Grant said. “We can’t afford to lose this money, but more importantly than that, we have to get this mad shifter off the streets. Not only did he murder eighty-six people—women and children too—he burned down the factories and nearly set the whole town on fire.”

Ryder flexed his tattooed arms. His lion snapped to attention inside, grumbling as Ryder amped himself up for a fight.

It had been too long since they had been on a job like this. The adrenaline started flowing and he got excited.

They broke down their plan and got ready to go. Their new client, G.H., had told them where they could find the bear shifter.

“Mount up!” Grant said when they all knew what to do.

They walked with a brisk pace past the pool to the pickup truck.

“You coming, Sloth?” Logan asked the plump cat who was stretching on the pool chair as they walked by. He opened his eyes for half a second and then shut them, snoring almost immediately.

“I guess that answers that,” Ryder said with a laugh.

“We have more than enough men,” Bryce said, nodding confidently.

They all silently agreed.

Although in a few hours, they’d be changing their minds.