The next morning, Ryenne strode into the Brody Cavanagh Shifter Hunters Ltd. office in plenty of time for their morning phone appointment with a potential new client. Her steps had a little more ferocity than usual, because she’d tossed and turned last night, second-guessing her decision to let Tess live. But, unlike Tess, Ryenne wasn’t a killer.

Rogues had become more and more of a problem in the past decade. Most shifters lived as humans and only hunted small animals in permitted forests. They often kept their true nature to themselves, not wanting to risk fear-driven attacks by humans.

Rogues, on the other hand, liked to sow fear among humans.

Hopefully, Scotty had arrived quickly last night and taken Tess off Gavin’s hands. Although those hands were perfectly capable, Gavin rarely left the office to join her in the field and had gone soft.

Their office on the fourth floor of an old building on Manhattan’s West Side was unlocked, but she didn’t see or hear Gavin. At least, not at first. Their small wood-paneled reception area was empty, so she stepped toward the pocket door that separated the reception area from their shared work space.

A soft intake of breath.

A moan.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ryenne muttered under her breath and marched into their shared office. The sight that greeted her was expected enough from the sounds she’d heard that she didn’t even bother to turn away.

Gavin’s glistening chest filled her eyesight, his own eyes closed, lips apart, his knuckles white as they gripped the back of the couch. Their couch.

Behind him was the slim guy from the club last night, his hands on Gavin’s waist.

They hadn’t noticed her yet but she was no voyeur. “Hey, Gav.”

His head snapped up and their gazes met.

“Don’t we have a meeting scheduled?” She quirked an eyebrow.

The guy, who had wavy black hair, sparkling brown eyes, and a dark complexion, disengaged from Gavin and scrambled for his clothing. Gavin smirked at her. “Sorry, Ry, we passed out last night before we could...you know.”

The guy stepped out from behind the couch, now wearing jeans and clasping his shirt and shoes to his chest. The contrast with Gavin was shocking. Where Gavin was muscular and golden, his friend was thin, almost scrawny.

“Ryenne, meet Marco.”

“A pleasure,” she said in a monotone. She’d met too many of Gavin’s one-night stands.

Marco headed for the front door, glancing at Gavin over his shoulder as if he couldn’t get enough.

“I’ll call you,” Gavin said. As usual.

Ryenne shook her head and dropped into the chair across from the couch, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. He came out from behind the couch, not at all self-conscious about his nudity. With that body, he didn’t need to be.

“Don’t you dare sit down.”

He smirked again but swiped his jeans from the floor and wriggled into them. He pushed a hand through his sandy blond hair. “Sorry about that. I lost track of time.”

She rolled her eyes. This wasn’t the first time she’d walked in on him. It probably wouldn’t be the last. He was a great guy with a big heart who always saw the good in others. He balanced her usual bristly and suspicious nature. “Okay, fill me in.”

“Well, I met Marco at the club last night but we stayed really late and got really drunk...”

She let her leg drop off her knee with a loud bang on the floor. “Gavin, you idiot. I meant about this new client.”

He had the grace to blush. Then he stood up and went to the kitchenette to pour himself a glass of water. When he returned, he had regained his normal composure. “Right. Steven Muteti. A Kenyan businessman whose family made their money in coffee. He thinks his life is being threatened by a rogue shifter.”

She nodded and checked her watch. It was another of her mother’s special tools. Made of platinum, it looked like a simple woman’s watch, all in one piece. But the wristband was hollow and hid items useful in Ryenne’s trade. “Almost go time.”

Gavin finished dressing and set up the laptop on the coffee table. Minutes later, it pinged, alerting them to an incoming call. Gavin answered it and Ryenne stayed out of view of the webcam, but well within view of the screen.

A dark-skinned man with high cheekbones filled the screen. “Good day, Mr. Brody.”

Gavin and Ryenne shared a look. How did this man know Gavin’s last name? People always assumed Gavin was Brody Cavanagh, the name of the company, and they called him Mr. Cavanagh, which was Ryenne’s last name. They kept Ryenne out of a client’s sight as much as possible. Her Barbie doll looks weren’t reassuring in their line of work, and she needed to keep her anonymity so she could get close to their targets.

“Call me Gavin,” Gavin said, voice shaky with surprise. “Why don’t you tell me more about your situation.”

“I need to hire you to protect me from a shifter who wants to kill me,” he stated simply in accented English.

“Do you know who it is?”

“No.”

“Do you know why they want to kill you?”

Silence.

“Mr. Muteti?”

“I’m rich. That is enough. But it could be a business rival. A political rival. There are many possibilities. Come to Kenya. Protect me and find out who wants to kill me.”

Ryenne sat up straighter. She’d never been hired to work outside the States before. She’d assumed he wanted them to protect him during a visit to New York.

Gavin picked up on her unease. “You’re not coming here?”

“No. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. Will coming here be a problem? Of course, I will pay all your travel expenses and you will stay at my compound outside Nakuru.”

Gavin looked at her and she nodded.

“No. There’s no problem.”

“Good.”

“I’ll send you a contract later today and my associate’s flight details as soon as we’ve booked her travel,” Gavin said. This was the tricky part. This time, the client would need to know Gavin wasn’t the one doing the work. They could still lose him.

“Ah, her travel. So you’ll be sending Miss Cavanagh?”

Gavin and Ryenne shared a look and she pushed next to him on the couch, into the webcam’s frame. “Hello, Mr. Muteti. You know who I am?”

“Of course.” He smiled in a predatory way and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. “I have done extensive research because I only hire the best. I look forward to welcoming you to Kenya very soon, Miss Cavanagh.”

Gavin finished the call and closed the laptop. “Shit, Ry. He knows our real names.”

She shrugged. “Both of us are in public records as the owners of this company. Most people don’t bother to check. He did.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“Why wouldn’t I go? So, he’s thorough. It’s not necessarily bad.” And it was a free trip to Kenya. She’d always wanted to go on a safari.

***

Gadgets and weapons of all kinds covered Ryenne’s bed. Tapping her front tooth with a fingernail, she stared at the collection and at the luggage she planned to bring to Kenya, and sighed. She didn’t know how long she’d be gone, but there was only so much baggage the airline would allow.

There was only one person in the entire world she could talk this through with. Grabbing her cell phone off the bed, she dropped down to the floor in a wide straddle.

“Well, hello there,” Willow Cavanagh said in a bright voice.

“Hi, Mom.” Ryenne explained her dilemma. “I’m guessing I should take a week’s worth of clothes. But what about the other stuff?”

“The lipstick stun gun will fit in your pocket or your purse. You’ll have to pack the dagger and the metal stunners. The telescoping one, of course. I’d leave the sword at home, Ry.”

Ryenne stood up and moved the weapons around according to her mother’s advice. She and her mother had been through a lot together, and other than the rebellious streak that had led to her becoming a shifter hunter, adversity had brought them closer.

“Do you use rope?”

“Sometimes. I’ll pack it so I don’t have to explain what it’s for at security.” Ryenne looked around for what else she might need and happened to glance down at her wrist. “Oh, the watch. I’d hate to be without it in case something happens.” These days, you never knew when a rogue would attack. She’d never heard of an attack inside a plane, but she wanted to be prepared for anything.

“They’ll have you remove it with your coins, keys, and belt anyway. Should be fine.”

Ryenne breathed out in relief. She could have figured all this out on her own, but it gave her an excuse to talk to her mother before she left. She didn’t know how long she’d be gone or what would happen in Kenya.

“So, who’s the client? Can you tell me?”

“Steven Muteti. Heir to a coffee fortune. Or something.”

“Muteti? Hmm.”

Ryenne stood up from her position leaning over the bed. There was something odd in her mother’s voice. “Do you know him?”

“No, but the name is familiar. Maybe a former client of your father’s.”

Her father’s? Dad hadn’t had any clients in about ten years.

“But that would have been a very long time ago,” her mom continued. “Before Cody.”

Before Ryenne’s older brother had been killed by shifters and their father had gone off the deep end.

“Why would a Kenyan coffee farmer be Dad’s client?” She had learned to push thoughts of her father and brother away so she could function. Ryenne had only been a kid. Twelve when her brother had been killed. So, she’d thrown herself into school and gone as far away for college as she could.

College in California had been a changing point. She’d met Gavin and become obsessed with self-defense. Gavin had covered for her with her mom and in classes when she was at the gym and the dojo. He’d been there when nightmares woke her night after night. And he’d agreed to go into business with her when her obsession needed a positive outlet.

“I don’t know,” her mother said. “Maybe you can ask this Steven when you meet him.”

This trip was turning into quite the adventure and she hadn’t even left New York yet. She now had two mysteries to solve.