Stacey couldn’t stop shrieking. It was terrifying. Utterly terrifying. Which was why when Jean Francois banged on the bathroom stall door, slamming the flimsy portal open, she leaped from her spot atop the toilet into his arms.

Built of solid stone, the man didn’t even stagger, nor did he drop her. Good thing because that would have put her too close to the thing sitting at the foot of the toilet.

“What the fuck is going on?” he yelled.

She got the impression he yelled a lot. It didn’t really bother her. Especially since he had a nice deep rumble.

“Protect me from that monster. Kill it!” Stacey pointed at the arachnid that had dared crawl into her stall while she sent a few texts back home. She’d opted for a visit to the bathroom where she could get a Wi-Fi signal and some privacy. What she’d not counted on was being interrupted. It was only by chance she noted the disgusting hairy thing heading for her open-toed sandals.

“You’re screaming as if you’re being murdered because of a fucking spider?”

Arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his torso, she was pressed too tight to see his face, but she could hear his incredulity.

“It’s not just any spider. It’s a big spider. With hair.” So much hair, sob. “And legs.” Just remembering all those legs moving sent a shudder through her.

Squish.

“There, are you happy now?”

Gag. “No. I heard that.” She gagged a bit more. “Ugh. I can’t believe you stepped on it.” More heaving. “It’s probably all over your shoe.”

“It is. You’re right; it was big. And very squishy. Want to see?”

When he began to crouch, she sprang away from him, away from the stall and the scene of the disgusting spider carnage.

“I hate you,” she declared as she marched out of the bathroom. She glared at her blonde guide, who pretended innocence, but Stacey saw right through the girl. There was something sly about her. Something Stacey didn’t like. Especially how Jan eyeballed her fake brother when he exited the bathroom.

“Thank you for taking care of your sister,” Jan simpered. “I would have done something, but she wouldn’t let me in.”

Well duh. “Opening the door would have required stepping onto the floor.” Which would then have given the bloodthirsty arachnid a chance to attack.

Jean Francois snorted. “If you’re done being a big baby, then our stuff is probably out front by now.”

“Arachnophobia is a documented medical condition.”

“Also known as being a pussy,” he retorted. “It was a spider. About as dangerous as a fly.”

“I’ll have you know spiders kill people every year with their bite. And flies are known disease carriers.”

“Would you like some cheese to go with your whine, princess pussy?”

“See if I save you when you scream because your life is in danger,” Stacey grumbled.

“You won’t have to because, unlike you, sis,” he said in a mocking tone, “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“We’ll see about that,” she murmured as she walked past him. Even the biggest, boldest of men feared something. Once she discovered his weakness, she’d exploit it, just like she used Joan’s love of jalapeno cheese dip against her whenever Stacey wanted to borrow that red dress of hers. Joan was spice intolerant but couldn’t resist the lure of nachos and cheese sauce. Which then bloated her, which meant Stacey could scoop up that hot red number and paint the town.

If Joan were smart, she’d just give in and gift the damned dress to Stacey. Then again, part of the reason she enjoyed wearing it so much was the challenge in getting it in the first place.

Their ride to the resort wasn’t in a car but an open-top Jeep with four spots. Maurice, of course, took the wheel, but instead of Jan sitting beside him, she slid into the back and patted the bench beside her. “We should give your sister the front. The windshield will block some of the wind from messing up her hair.”

Then Jan tittered.

Stacey hated tittering. Especially at her expense. Did this little kitten seriously think to challenge her? Playing up to Jean Francois as if she had a right?

He’s mine. Which in turn made her frown. He was here as a cover and shield only. Not as potential boyfriend material, no matter how sexy she found him. For one thing, he wasn’t a big-time business man. Or a lion.

She could handle maybe a bear, or a wolf. Even another necromancer fellow would have the right kind of genes and prestige to make her momma happy. But a simple assistant to a bar owner? One that wasn’t even really a shifter or a vampire?

I can do better than that. She deserved better than Mr. Dour Face in the back.

Determined to ignore him, she slid in the front and not once looked back at him—or the little tart surely pressing herself against him.

Stacey made conversation with Maurice, who answered all her questions about the island.

It wasn’t a very large island, less than a hundred square miles with a chunk of it left undeveloped.

“You see that over there?” Maurice took a hand off the wheel to point at a lush green mountain. “That’s a volcano. It’s dormant now, has been for ages, but the natives in the area hold it sacred, which means the mountain itself and the area around it is protected.”

“How many people on the island?”

Apparently, that number depended on the resorts themselves. If counting only the locals, then only a few thousand residents. But the resorts themselves swelled that number, especially in peak seasons.

Stacey could see why. They were literally in paradise. Warm weather, lush foliage, and a land bursting with life.

There were only a few vehicles on the road, most of them short buses and vans, emblazoned with the names of resorts. Of houses and other amenities, they saw little, the road from the airport mostly traveling through chunks of jungle, intersected only by other roads, usually bordered by a sign with the name of the business. Club Paradise. Beach Club. Club Springs.

A lack of originality existed with the names, but they all promised one thing in common. A spectacular vacation.

But I’m not here to relax and unwind. She was here to find out what had happened to Shania. Maybe hook up with the liotaur and make her biatches jealous.

I wonder if Jean Francois gets jealous.

A cold and lacking in humor man, he probably didn’t have enough passion in him to care.

Heck, did the man even enjoy sex?

She thought she’d felt an erection when she plopped herself on his lap, but she didn’t stay on it long enough to be sure.

I should totally try again. A decision that made no sense. She didn’t like the guy. At all. However, she had to know. Does he find me attractive?

Maurice certainly did. The poor boy couldn’t look at her without blushing. So cute. Whereas Jean Francois couldn’t stop scowling. Even cuter.

The gates leading into the resort were bordered by towering golden lions. The arch overhead a golden filigree with the name Club Lyon’s Resort etched within the curlicues and fancy scrollwork. Pretty, but even the tall fence wouldn’t stop someone determined to get in.

Beyond the gates lay paradise. Lush trees, the green of their leaves vivid, bordered the paved drive leading into the property. Bright blooms popped with color and exuded lovely scents, the perfume tickling her nose. She closed her eyes in pleasure as she inhaled deeply. Smells good enough to roll in. Because, yes, lions did so love to roll in foliage.

With her eyes still shut, she inhaled some more, this time looking past the obvious scents to filter those beneath. The exhaust from the Jeep. A touch of acrid smoke. A hint of salt in the air. The ocean was nearby. She couldn’t wait to dip her toes in the warm water. After dark. Her pale skin couldn’t handle the midday sun.

The Jeep pulled to a stop in front of a large building made of bleached coral. Unique and very pretty.

Maurice saw her looking. “The entire resort is built from natural resources found on the island.”

“I don’t know if I’d call harvesting coral to build things natural,” Jean Francois stated as he jumped out the back of the Jeep. He then offered a hand to Jan, who took it with a smile.

No one helped Stacey out of the Jeep.

Maurice shook his head. “All of the materials were recycled, not harvested or cut down. The jungles have plenty of fallen trees or those in need of trimming to keep them from getting knocked over in storms. Just like the coral goes through cycles where older parts die and break off. We even use the parts that wash up on shore.”

“Is that lava rock?” Stacey asked, pointing to the darker stone mixed into the walls. “I thought I read the volcano was on protected government land.”

“It is, but over the years the islanders have uncovered stashes of it outside that zone. And then, of course, there’s the stuff found on the beach.”

In reality, Stacey didn’t truly care where the resort got its supplies. She asked because the more she knew, the more likely something would pop out at her. Joan might disparage Stacey’s job as an event planner; however, the one thing she didn’t understand was Stacey’s ability to read situations and people. Stacey had to be good in order to avoid bridezilla situations.

Once they reached the interior of the building, the check-in process was much like other resorts. A thick silicone band was placed around her wrist, the ends sealed to prevent removal. Its presence proved her guest status with the resort.

She held it up with a smile. “Free drinks.”

“Drinks. Food. Towels. Anything you need. Plus it acts as your key.” Maurice showed them. “Place your wrist in front of your door, and the sensor within will allow you entry.”

Fascinating technology. In the lion’s pride condominium, all the various apartments had hand print scanners, but for a hotel that might prove a little excessive.

“Do all the employees have to wear one?” she asked, pointing to Maurice’s wrist. Unlike her golden band, his was a deep red.

“Everyone on the property has one, even delivery people and maintenance crew. It helps us to identify who belongs.”

It made her wonder if the liotaur caught on tape had worn one as well. She thought over what she’d seen but couldn’t recall. As they walked to their golf cart that held their bags, she fired off a quick text to Melly.

“Would you put that thing away?” Jean Francois grumbled. “I’m sure your Facebook status can wait a few more minutes.”

“Not my fault I have friends who are interested in what I do.”

“Maybe you should have brought one of your friends with you.”

Because being a brat was second nature, she planted her hands on her hips and sassed back, “I’m going to tell Dad you’re being mean to me again. I told him this trip wouldn’t help us to bond.”

His lip twitched. Just a single little muscle. But she saw it.

“Dad should have worn a condom,” was his retort.

“And here I thought you were going to say my mom should have swallowed.”

Poor Maurice choked, and this time, definite lip twitch on Jean Francois’s face.

I will crack you yet!

The golf cart they piled into—minus Jan, who they’d left behind at registration—wound around the meandering paths crisscrossing the resort. As they flew through them, Maurice pointed out spots of interest.

“Tennis courts are at the top end of the resort, along with archery and lawn bowling. The spa is down on the eastern edge of the beach and offers indoor and outdoor options for treatment. There is yoga on the beach at dawn, as well as various other physical classes throughout the day. There is a boathouse on the western edge of the main beach offering boats, paddleboards, and kayaks to those looking for a water adventure.”

As he rattled off a litany of activities, all of them involving strenuous work and sweat, from her spot in the back, Stacey instead watched her companion’s granite profile.

The man rarely smiled and didn’t seem at all comfortable in a tropical location. He’d yet to strip off any of his clothes. Pity. She wondered what he hid under those layers.

As it was, he looked completely and utterly out of place. Given his constant scowl, she’d have to ditch him if her attempt to bait the liotaur would work. No way would anyone try to kidnap her if her brother stuck too close by.

Given his intense dislike of her—which was surely feigned because hello, I am awesome—it probably wouldn’t be hard to convince him to go in one direction while she went in another. The one that would lead her to the mystery shapeshifter.

The cart stopped in front of a pink-pastel-colored three-story building. There were two doors per level and numerous windows.

“This is the Bella building. You’ve been given the top floor, which has the best view.”

“How many other people staying in the building?” And to cover her curiosity she added, “I’m a bit of a night kitty. I’d hate to keep any guests awake.”

“Noise won’t be an issue. The middle level is undergoing repair.”

“And what about the bottom one?” She eyed the pulled curtains with interest.

“It’s empty.”

“He’s lying,” Jean Francois said, and Maurice visibly started.

“I am not.”

“Tell her.” Her companion didn’t have to add “or else.” The implication came through loud and clear.

Maurice sighed. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. But apparently the client who was staying in that room”—he pointed to the door ahead of them—“seems to have wandered off.”

“Wandered off?” Stacey asked. “As in of her own volition? Or did someone coerce her?”

At the pointed query, Maurice squirmed. “I’m sure she’s fine wherever she is. The island has a very low rate of incidents, and those are rarely violent.”

“I find that hard to believe. In general, lions and other shifters are a violent bunch.”

Maurice appeared startled by Jean Francois’s statement.

Taking pity on him, Stacey said, “You don’t have to hide what we are around my brother. While he might not be a fantabulous shifter like us, he does know about them and will keep our secret.”

“I hope he can because the island natives are human.”

“All of them?” she asked.

He nodded.

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not from here originally. Any shifters you meet working for the resort have been brought in from elsewhere.”

“What’s the human-to-shifter ratio on the island, would you say?” At his sharp look, she shrugged. “Just curious. I’m planning a wedding for a friend.”

“I thought you were here to bond with your brother.”

“Killing two birds with one pounce,” she said with a wink.

“We’d probably be closer if she wasn’t working all the time,” Jean Francois stated. “Why don’t you show us to our rooms? Maybe then she’ll try and relax.”

“If you’ll follow me.” Maurice led them up the stairs to the top floor. A wide balcony ran the length of the building.

Maurice pointed to the door. “If you’ll flash your wrist here.” She waved it over the black matte square, and with a click, the door unlocked. “You have fifteen seconds to open the door before the lock engages again.”

Swinging the door open, Maurice swept an arm indicating they should go in first.

Stacey stepped in, immediately noting the high ceilings and ceramic tile floors, which would help keep the room cool, along with the air conditioning unit blowing full tilt with a noisy whir. The room boasted a giant four-poster bed strung with netting, a two-seater couch and low table, plus a dresser with a television atop it. Everything looked new.

Stacey tossed her purse onto the floral bedspread before kicking off her shoes to take a peek in the bathroom. Huge and completely finished in white and an aquamarine tile, including the shower that was enclosed in glass. A soaker tub also shared the space, strategically placed in front of the window with a view of the jungle.

“This will do,” she announced.

“The other room is identical,” Maurice noted. “The adjoining door between them also works with the wrist band, although you can deadbolt it should you, um, require, um, extra privacy.”

While she didn’t look at him, Stacey could imagine his red cheeks.

It was Arik’s idea for Stacey and Jean Francois to have connecting rooms. For some reason, he thought that would keep her out of trouble.

Has he met me at all?

Only as Maurice finished their interior tour, pointing out the safe in the closet, the various toiletries available at no extra cost, plus the hidden mini bar, did she ask, “You must know the island pretty well by now. Tell me, where does a lioness go if she wants to tan au naturel?”

“Already looking for ways to shed your clothes?” Her spoilsport snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

Maurice, though, understood her question. “The resort itself, as mentioned, is staffed by a mixture of local humans and shifters who’ve been brought in. We couldn’t make it entirely lions or the local government might have noticed something amiss and protested. As such, we don’t have any safe zones on the grounds themselves, but…” Maurice headed to the wide sliding glass doors that led to the balcony. “Over to the east, there is that dormant volcano I told you about with land that is considered protected space. While people can roam, they are not to damage the jungle or climb the volcano itself. It’s too dangerous. That rule obviously doesn’t extend to any local wildlife. The inside of the volcano is an especially good spot for sun bathing. And if you roar, it echoes.”

“Awesome.” Because no lion worth its fur would want to miss a chance to lie in the tropical sun wearing their feline skin.

“Do you have any questions, sir?” Maurice asked Francois.

“Where’s the nearest bar?”

Stacey clapped her hands. “An excellent idea, brother dear. Let us get elegantly wasted.”

With that, she shooed Maurice out then turned on JF. “Have a drink for me.”

“What are you planning?” he asked, his arms folded, looking absolutely forbidding.

And sexy.

“You heard what Maurice said. The missing Shania was staying on the first floor.”

“Not even here an hour and you’re planning to break and enter, aren’t you?”

“Break?” She smiled. “Professionals don’t have to smash their way in. Not when they have specials apps.” She held up her phone.

“Are you saying you have a lock-picking app on your device?”

“I’ve got something better. A biatch who knows her coding shit.” She checked her messages and smiled. “And did I mention Melly hacks in her spare time too?”

She opened the app specially installed on her phone before she left. When prompted, she held her bracelet against it until she heard a beep. Then she reached for his arm. Her fingers made contact with his skin, and a jolt went through her. Static electricity times a zillion and it all coalesced into one place on her body.

Startled, her eyes met his, and she noticed them glowing. Red.

Kind of evil.

Pretty cool.

And all for me.

Her lips curved. “Hold your band here for a second,” she said, pressing his wrist against her phone until it beeped. “You can now go anywhere you want.”

“Will this leave any traces in their system?”

“Are you calling Melly sloppy?” She snorted. “Of course it won’t. We now have something better than a master key to anything we want in this place. We have a ghost key, which means we can get in and out without anyone knowing.”

“You do realize if you can do this so easily, so can others.”

“Exactly, which is why we can’t believe anything they or their computers tell us. So keep that in mind when you’re having that drink.”

“Oh, I’m not leaving you alone, princess.”

“Why, sweetcheeks, is this your way of saying you want to come with me to check out Shania’s room?”

“It’s my way of ensuring you don’t get into trouble.”

She snickered. “Yeah, just so you’re forewarned, having you nearby won’t stop that from happening.”

“What excuse do we use if we’re caught?”

“Excuse?” She scoffed. “Excuses are for pussies. I boldly go wherever I want. If I get caught, I flash some boobs.”

He looked down at his chest. “Some of us don’t have that advantage.”

“I don’t know about that, sweetcheeks. An impressive set of abs sometimes works just as well.”

“So, if caught, whore myself. Is what you’re saying?”

“I prefer the term using what nature blessed me with.”

“Or you could just stay out of trouble in the first place.”

That remark earned him a wet raspberry. “Listen, sweetcheeks, if you’re too chicken to come with me, then hit the bar or stay in our rooms. I don’t really care what you do.” Unless he planned to jerk off. Then she might want to watch. “I’m going.” Out she went, closing the door behind her since he didn’t seem inclined to follow.

She skipped down the stairs, glad in one respect she didn’t have to deal with him, annoyed in another because she’d not taken him for a rule-following coward. The man possessed the kind of self-assurance seen in someone who led. On a positive note, his lack of adventure detracted from his overall good looks.

Upon reaching the bottom level, a quick peek around showed no one watching, so she waved her wrist in front of the door and, when it clicked, opened it.

As she went to step in, a hand slapped over her mouth and she was dragged into the room, and the door slammed shut behind her.