The sliding glass door into the darkened living room was unlocked and Ryenne and Lucien made their way to their bedrooms without meeting anyone. Ryenne knew Steven was away for the night and most of the guards hovered around the kitchen, if they came inside at all.

Once dressed, Lucien knocked on Ryenne’s door. “Want to go check out that bar?”

She nodded. She didn’t feel comfortable talking about their suspect inside this house, even if they seemed to be alone.

They snuck out the way they’d come. Ryenne didn’t want to give away to the guards and staff that they knew about the back door. But, since they were now inside and hadn’t come through the gate, the guards would know they’d come in some other way.

Ryenne was glad Lucien didn’t want to talk as they walked through the middle of the village. Her brain was full and the activity helped keep her from wanting to punch someone. The houses on either side of them would afford some protection, if only with the promise of people who would come running at the first shout.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Lucien asked after several minutes of silence.

“Not really. Mrs. Kyeri said it was on the other side of the village, so I figured we’d walk to the other side and find it by the sound of people getting drunk.” It worked in New York, and here they had many fewer choices.

He nodded.

It didn’t take long. Within minutes they heard the sounds of men talking too loudly and laughing. They followed the sounds to a house smaller than the others around it, made of mud, and surrounded by plastic chairs, mostly filled with men.

“Do you think I’m not allowed here?” Ryenne whispered.

“I can’t imagine any place where you’re not allowed.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Seriously, I think it’s just not common for women here to drink, but they won’t mind if you do.”

“Have you been here before?” It hadn’t occurred to her previously. Hadn’t been important. But now, everything had changed.

Lucien was a shifter.

She dropped into an empty chair and ignored the stares of the men around her. She couldn’t even smile at the man in the seat next to her whose mouth gaped in surprise.

Seconds later, Lucien put a bottle of beer in her hand and crouched next to her. Close to her ear, he whispered, “Are you thinking about me being a shifter again?”

She nodded, sat up straighter to avoid his warm breath on her skin, and gulped down beer.

“I’m still the man you have gotten to know these past few days,” he whispered. “I’m the same person.”

She drank more beer and didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. Maybe he was the same, but maybe it had all been a lie.

“Hello,” he greeted the men nearest them. “I’m Lucien Malraux, a contractor for Mr. Muteti.” He shook hands all around. “This is my partner.” He nudged her shoulder.

“Ryenne Cavanagh.” She shook hands, too.

They chatted with the men for a few minutes about the weather and the village, in general, gaining their trust, getting to know them. When the conversation felt easy, Lucien introduced a less easy topic. “We heard about the trouble here last night. Did you know Kyeri?”

“Mmm,” a couple of them responded, nodding their heads.

“Eh, everyone knew Kyeri,” one of them said, a man named Anthony. “Everyone liked him, too.”

The group of men kept nodding. They all met Lucien’s and Ryenne’s gazes without flinching or looking away.

“He would do anything for a friend,” Anthony said. “Such a shame.”

“Mmm,” they all said.

“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Ryenne said and lifted her beer toward the men.

They lifted theirs toward her and everyone took a drink.

“He was here last night,” another man said. They called him Omoro and Ryenne didn’t know if it was a first or last name. “Can’t believe this happened when we had just seen him.”

Ryenne and Lucien exchanged a look. He’d been here, as his wife suspected.

“What time did he leave?” Ryenne asked.

The men looked at each other, a couple shrugged. “Eh, I think it was late. We got talking about football and the Africa Cup.”

“Yes, very late,” Omoro said. “A little before midnight?”

“Mmmm,” several said.

“Did you all leave here together?” Lucien asked.

“No, we all live in different parts of the village,” Anthony said. “In fact, I think Kyeri left a few minutes before me. He said his wife would be angry since his sister-in-law could have the baby at any time.”

Omoro laughed. “Unlike my wife, Kyeri’s wife never got angry. He could stay out all night and she would not notice.”

“Then why did he say it?” Lucien asked, brow furrowed.

“I think he did not want us all to be jealous that she was such a heavy sleeper,” Anthony said. “Or maybe he had a girl on the side.” He looked to the others who nodded.

“Did he have a girl on the side?” Ryenne asked, a smile lifting her mouth. These men had such a light, teasing way with each other and it was hard not to be pulled in for the fun.

“Eh, maybe,” Anthony said, shrugging. “He never mentioned it, though.”

Ryenne quirked an eyebrow at Lucien. Was Kyeri a cheating jerk or a considerate friend?

They finished their beers and said goodbye to their new friends with promises to come back if they got the chance. Ryenne surprised herself by wanting to laugh and chat and drink with them again.

Once they were out of earshot of the men at the bar, Lucien turned toward her. “Have you forgiven me yet?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

“Then, do you still trust me?”

“Who says I trusted you before?”

He smirked. “Touché, mademoiselle.”

But she had begun to trust him before learning his secret. A secret that could get him killed. Too many humans feared and hated shifters—even the law-abiding ones. He had only revealed his secret in order to save her life from the rogue. “We’re good.”

He stared at her as if searching her face for signs of sincerity, and nodded.

They arrived at the lane across from the compound and heard a cry from the other side.

“Eh, here they come,” one of the guards said. The others crowded around, pushing out the gate.

Ryenne was confused at first about their interest and then remembered the men hadn’t seen them come back earlier from hunting the leopard. They didn’t know she and Lucien had just been at a bar drinking beer and letting the adrenaline of the hunt dissipate.

“Good evening,” Lucien said, smiling at everyone.

One bold man in a torn t-shirt and camouflage pants stepped forward with a limp. “You survived. Did you get it?”

“No, he was waiting for us,” Ryenne said. “But we wounded him.”

“Mmm,” several said. They made room for Ryenne and Lucien to enter.

Once they cleared the immediate crush of men, Lucien stopped. “What happened here?”

Lucien’s attention was drawn to something near one corner of the house. Ryenne followed his gaze. A vehicle with a crunched front fender sat against the house, a clear dent in the concrete visible even from this distance.

“Oh, Master Muteti got into an accident,” the limping guard explained.