Elizabeth arrived home and dropped her bag onto the battered and scarred wood surface of her coffee table. Like everything in her home, once it had been new and beautiful and bright, but now it was tainted like her body and her mind. A few unexpected shifts into some big-ass scaly, motherfucking animals and she’d done the damage herself, so she couldn’t really complain. She’d fought against the fire-breather’s claim on her body, wishing like hell it had been one of the others that had surfaced instead. Even the wolf would have been better than the black dragon that singed the curtains with a simple sneeze. A wolf, lion, puma, bear, hell, she’d even been a dog and a cat when the doc had been trying to calculate the correct dosage of her meds. Her bones had contorted and twisted several times in an hour, before shifting into different forms, leaving her exhausted when it was all said and done. Which animal would appear next was anyone’s guess. Owning nice things was a thing of the past. She made herself a glass of sweet tea and grabbed the confidential police file from her bag before dropping into the earthy brown plush recliner. She kicked up her feet, ready to get down and dirty in the details.
She dug into the file, a mystery to figure out. She read the entire thing, twice. Missing people was putting it mildly. The fliers for the missing, in the back of the folder, were all women ages twenty-one to thirty-five. They’d all gone missing in a five-block radius of the Honey Pot, the notorious human/shifter shared bar in the Glades, the only one in two hundred miles where it didn’t matter what your species was. They’d take anyone’s money in exchange for the liquor. The owners were either geniuses or daft. Humans were no match for shifters that held tempers. The security guard alone would have to be one hulking beast.
About half of the women reported missing were shifters, the other half humans, leading her to quickly rule out a hate crime. There were plenty who didn’t like the idea of breathing the same air, and just as many more who didn’t really care, not to mention the groupies begging to be turned, as though it was a damn privilege instead of a curse.
There were no leads, only the gender to go on. A chill skirted down her spine. She’d been a missing woman once, and the things they’d done to her…. She clenched her teeth to avoid the shift, trying to forget the horrendous memories. If the people responsible were playing the same game and had their hands in this mess, damn right, they’d pay. She’d see to it personally.
“You’re wasting time, Hanson,” she whispered, pushing the footrest back into place. “Another one could be snatched at any minute.”
She grumbled as she headed into her room to pack her bag, making sure she had enough darts, knives, and guns to last her however long the mission was going to take. The darts she coveted were the ones they’d used to take down the biggest and worst shifters that the town of Crompton had ever seen. What she lacked in weapons, her animals would have to handle. Tossing some of her clothes, meds, and toiletries in the bag, she laid the file on top before zipping it up. A shower, another dose of the medication to mask her scent and she was out the door for her first look at the bar before any of the introductions were made.
Carrying her luggage to the front door, she gave one last, longing look around the apartment she was leaving behind. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. She closed the door, not knowing when she’d be back. If she had her way, she’d have the case solved tonight.
****
Elizabeth relaxed in her car outside the Honey Pot. She could hear the beat of the music drifting out into the warm summer night air. The full, graveled parking lot brimmed with cars and trucks. For a Thursday night, the place was packed. She checked the ammo in the clip before shoving the gun into her leg holster and adjusting her jeans back into place. She’d opted to carry her SID badge clipped to her jeans, using the flowing material of her black shirt to keep it out of sight. One last swipe of lip gloss across her lips and she snatched the clutch from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car.
Various scents assaulted her nose, and she took a minute to decipher all of the animals nearby. The stench of musky wolves, the sweet and outdoorsy tinge of bears, and...she tilted her head and inhaled deeper, trying to determine the last smell… “What is that smell?”
Regardless of what they were, she straightened her shoulders, placed a fake smile on her face, and headed toward the doors. There were a handful of humans and shifters standing outside the door. Some were flirting, some talking, and others on the side of the building could have been charged with indecent exposure. A man had a woman pressed against the wall. Their grunts filled the air, along with the musky scent of sex. It’s just a bar, full of deadly animals, but still, just a bar, she repeated in her head.
She stepped inside the building and paused as her gaze adjusted. The hypnotic music saturated her pores, tugging at memories she’d buried long ago. She wasn’t here to enjoy herself. Hell, she couldn’t remember the last time she had.
Scanning the occupants, she sized them all up, assigning a breed and the best way to beat them to a pulp, if the need arose. Several conversations had stopped as some of the men glanced her way. Gazes traveled from the red-painted toenails in her three-inch heels up to her face before the stupid ones dismissed her as a threat, returning to what they were doing. A few lust-filled gazes lingered, and she rolled her eyes. The magic drugs were working their mojo, hiding her scent.
“Excuse me.” A dark-haired woman with long, flowing hair stepped up next to Elizabeth and gave a genuine smile. “Here goes nothing.” She wiggled her brows, pressing her palm to her stomach before sauntering toward a table in a darker corner of the club.
Elizabeth moved over to the bar and slid onto an empty stool. The six-foot-five grizzly pouring a beer from the tap glanced her way and winked. “Be with you in a minute, sweetheart.”
The bartender’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he handed the beer to an old man seated in front of the taps. The bartender’s short brown hair was cut in military fashion. A flash of tattoos peeked out from beneath the sleeve of his shirt. There was no denying the relationship between this man and her boss. Their good looks alone confirmed that fact without her ever having to take a sniff.
He tossed the rag over his shoulder and headed in her direction. His black T-shirt stretched tightly across his broad, muscular chest. His jeans rode low on his tapered hips. She swallowed hard, trying her best to refrain from licking her lips. Getting involved with someone on an assignment wasn’t an option. For her, it might never be.
“What can I get you?” he asked in a deep baritone voice that wrapped around her body, caressing it like a lost lover. What the fuck was wrong with her?
“Just a bear.”
Sex-on-a-stick shot her a sexy, devious smile, and she realized her mistake.
“I mean a beer,” she amended and swallowed around the lump stuck in her throat. He made her nervous and antsy like nothing she’d ever felt.
He placed his palms on the bar and leaned forward as if peering into her soul. He inhaled and tilted his head, letting his baby blues caress her face, touching every inch of her down to her chest with his hungry gaze.
She clenched her legs together, fighting against his pull, against giving him any sign of interest. Her job was going to be hard enough without all of the dirty thoughts swimming through her head. Damn.
“You do have beer, don’t you?” she prodded, trying her best not to use a come-hither voice.
His lips twisted into a full grin in response before he broke her gaze, giving her room to breathe. He pulled a bottle out of the cooler next to him. Flicking off the top, he set a napkin down in front of her before placing the bottle on top.
“You’re new in town,” he said more as a statement than a question, using the same tactic her boss was famous for.
Remembering why she’d been sent was the only thing that made her hormones transform from an all-out frenzy to a dull simmer she could handle.
“Is that a question?” she asked, after taking a long pull of the ice-cold brew. The liquid cooling her throat helped ease the tension in her shoulders.
“No, I’d remember you.” He held out his hand. “My name’s Rhys.”
“Lizzy.” She gripped his hand, and his long fingers closed around hers. Instantly, tingles traveled from her palm up her arm and through her body, engulfing her in quick, consuming flames. Heat flooded her body, moisture pooling between her legs.
His brows dipped, his smile slipped, and he inhaled a deep breath. Confusion clouded his bright blue eyes before his gaze grew intense. His eyes deepened to a dark blue, swirling with a new zest. He blinked, and her mouth parted in shock.
Staring back at her wasn’t the flirty bartender she’d just met but the bear beneath the skin. Crap. The thin restraints on his animal were barely held in check. The musky scent of his bear muddled the other scents in the room, surrounding her and pulling her further under his spell. The sounds of the music and conversations faded away as his gaze locked with hers. The heat of his fingers ignited a fire deep in her core, and the need to jump the counter, into his arms, to latch onto to his lips was almost unbearable. In that one second, they were alone; it was just him and her, with no threats of danger nearby. The word danger stuck in her mind, over and over in her head like a repeating song on her playlist. The repetition effectively broke through his spell, pulling her back to reality and the reason she was there. Getting laid was going to have to wait, no matter which of her animals was attempting to break free. She shoved that bitch back down beneath the surface and tightened the reins. No…she was there to do a damn job, and it didn’t include a roll in the sack with the sexy bartender. SHIT.
She yanked her hand free, rubbing it on her jeans. Instantly, she surrounded herself in a protective bubble, the way one of her psychic coworkers had taught her so she could keep everyone out of her personal space.
“Lizzy.” He murmured her name like a lover, testing the sound on his sensual lips.
Elizabeth squirmed on her seat to ease the throb between her legs.
He inhaled, and she hoped to hell he couldn’t scent her arousal. His eyes flashed again. “Mine.”
That answered her question.
“Hardly,” she said in a measly attempt to beat the man and his beast back into submission. She wouldn’t let him forget the reason she was there. The word meant to collar his reaction had the opposite effect. His nostrils flared before he stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving his post behind the bar. He rounded the corner, stomping over to where she sat, and his big leg brushed her legs apart to stand between her thighs. He rested his palm on her face, gently brushing his thumb across her lips. His tenderness caught her off guard, confusing her and ratcheting her own desires.
She shoved against his unmovable chest, trying to reclaim her personal space. He didn’t budge. She bit her lip, trying to stave off calling up any of her animals for strength, but she damn sure would if she couldn’t talk him off the ledge. The imaginary wall she’d created to keep him out popped like a bubble landing against thorns.
“You’re crowding me.” She grabbed his legs in a punishing grip, not pushing him away, thereby contradicting her words. She licked her lips, and he lowered his head. Her breath came out in quivering pants as she tried not to breathe in his heady musk.
“I’m Elizabeth Hanson.” She blurted out her full name. Her name made him pause, giving her the reaction she might not have wanted but most definitely needed. “Your cousin sent me, and you’re blowing my cover.”
Her words were a whisper between them, while she used her job as a shield, like the badge secured to her waist that she flashed against criminals. No amount of heart-pounding, heat-searing, blood-pumping lust was worth another life hanging in the balance. Not even the big-ass bear standing between her thighs could deny what she said was the truth. Oh, he’d try, but he wouldn’t succeed. The only way she’d succumb to instant gratification would be by killing the fuckers behind the abductions.
“This”—she gestured between them—“can’t happen.” She rested her palm against his large chest, trying to ease him back. Claiming heat seared beneath her palm. The wild animal wanted his mate.
“Rhys,” another man called out from behind the counter. “Quit accosting the customers.”
“Fuck off,” Rhys growled back without even a glance toward the owner of the voice. He continued to loom over her, engulfing and consuming her. His gaze locked with hers. His heart thumped furiously against her palm. “Just so we’re clear.” His eyes swirled from baby blue to a dark gray storm and back. “This is happening. So wrap your pretty little mind around it.”
“Little?”
His lips twitched seconds before he crushed them to hers in a claiming kiss. Against her better judgment, she parted in invitation, for once in her life, for a mere second, throwing caution into the wind. She let him past the walls that had kept her alive. He tilted his head, deepening the taste, stroking his tongue against hers. He was claiming her with his scent, with his mouth. She savored his taste and pulled him closer, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. His hands tangled in her hair, and she was trapped. Visions of the straps she’d been confined with flashed in her mind and her pulse raced for an entirely different reason. She couldn’t do this. No. She shoved against his chest and turned her head, breaking the connection as panic gripped her tight.
Rhys kept his hand on her leg, but she could read the mixture of emotions on his face. “Elizabeth.”
She met his gaze, and heat flooded her body for an entirely different reason. The aggravation and agitation returned, putting her in the frame of mind she’d become accustomed to. “Not here.” She shook her head.
“Rhys. We need more beer from the cooler.” The voice of the person who’d called him before shouted even louder this time.
“We’ll talk tonight.”
With those words, he stepped back, giving her much-needed room to breathe. He stormed off toward the other end of the bar. Another brown-haired man was slinging beers behind the bar. He ran a hand through wavy hair that curled at his collar. The same high cheekbones and hard jaw left little doubt he was Rhys’ brother. Elizabeth kept a critical eye, watching Rhys until he disappeared into a backroom. She grabbed some bills from her purse and left them under her beer before quickly sliding off the stool. One last glance around the bar and she hurried to the exit, not breathing again until she was behind the wheel of her car. Her resolve firmly in place, she pulled out of the parking lot, dust flying from the squeal of her tires, not giving Rhys a chance to chase her. She had one more night to herself before she had to report in for the job, and she was damned if she was staying under his roof.
Sliding her phone out of her purse, she dialed the familiar number and took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart and her mind.
“What?” Trapp growled into the phone.
“Sir…we have a problem.”