Ten and a half years later, Forest Park, Portland, Oregon

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Special Agent Addison Davidson reported to the pickup point at a bench in Forest Park, surrounded by Douglas firs, western hemlock, Oregon grape, and western red cedar, breathing in the scents. After she’d been shot on her last mission in Seattle, Washington, doing the same kind of job, serving as a courier six months ago, she knew they had a mole on her team. Who, of the six people working with her, was the traitor who had told the assassin where the pickup was to be made?

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she knew she had post-traumatic stress syndrome. She couldn’t let on to the psychologist, who okayed her for duty, that she felt jittery on the job, like at any moment someone would gun her down again. She hated feeling this way. She normally felt completely confident in her abilities, certain that good would win out. On the last mission, she’d taken several bullets, and the only thing saving her was that she’d been wearing a heavier bulletproof vest with the metal insert. Not even those would stop some projectiles, but at least she’d survived the attack. It had taken her six months to recover, not so much physically, because with her cougar shifter abilities, she healed faster than humans. Mentally, she’d had a hard time coping, waking with night terrors and reliving the nightmare whenever she heard popping sounds from cars backfiring, or just any loud bangs.

She hadn’t seen Dan for two years for any missions and she thought she might never see him again, until she was nearly killed. Then once she could vanish, not letting her team or her boss, Clinton Briggs, know where she was going, she’d had to crash with Dan for a couple of nights. He’d been so upset with her that she’d nearly been killed, and that he hadn’t had any word from her. She’d been a jumble of emotions—wanting in the worse way to leave again, to keep him safe, and to keep out of reach of whoever had wanted her dead.

That time, Dr. Kate Parker-Hill had patched her up and then Addie had stayed only as long as she felt it was safe. Dan had taken care of her the whole time, wanting to know what had happened, and why she hadn’t called him for any more missions.

She couldn’t even tell him she suspected a mole in her organization. He hadn’t been happy with her, and after ten and a half years of being her pretend husband, he seemed to be thinking of “divorcing” her. She couldn’t blame him. She couldn’t give up her job, not now that she had to learn who had it in for her, and she didn’t know if she could work at anything else. Could she settle down in a friendly cougar town like Yuma? She was afraid she would miss the bullets flying.

Dan was a different story. She couldn’t deny she missed him, and wanted desperately to see him. She’d tried to pretend he was important only for missions, but she hadn’t had one with him in two years—her boss’s decision—until she needed to drop into Dan’s life again, this time to get patched up. She still remembered how angry he was—at the man who had shot her, at the Bureau for not protecting her better, at her for not keeping in touch. He was, after all, her husband.

Trying to focus on the current mission again, she now watched hikers and runners making their way on Wildwood Trail in Forest Park, not paying any attention to her. Her skin crawled with trepidation. The first day back to duty, and she prayed she could keep it together.

Where was he? The man who was supposed to pass her some information about a group of bank robbers, who were targeting banks in the bigger cities, moving from state to state. It wasn’t the same case that she’d been working on when she’d been shot six months earlier. That one involved stolen military weapons from a National Guard unit, and two of her team members had managed to call for help, but they hadn’t captured the shooter, and she’d been pissed off about it.

Not that she hadn’t been just as mad at herself for not taking him down before he had shot her so many times. She hadn’t even had a chance to pull out her 9mm.

She kept thinking back to Dr. Kate, checking her over, frowning, giving Dan looks, but he wouldn’t tell her who Addie was. No one in Yuma Town could know the circumstances of their marriage, nor that Dan Steinacker had been recruited to serve as her husband as a deep undercover operative. He was called on to do work with her when she needed her husband by her side as the perfect undercover couple. And they’d had fifteen successful missions in the first few years, but once they were done, they’d had to go their separate ways, no questions asked. That had been the hardest part, for both of them.

She’d thought of him seeing Dottie, his dispatcher at the time, and how Dan might have been better off just mating her and terminating his contract with Addie.

And yet, she hadn’t wanted that to happen either. Which was why she put a bug in Jack Barrington’s ear that he needed to return home and see what Dottie’s Aunt Emily had to say about her. Of course, Addie hadn’t talked to Jack directly. She’d spoken with an army buddy of Jack’s, who told him he’d forever regret not trying to see Dottie again. Addie hadn’t been wrong in doing so. He was the father of Dottie’s twins, though he hadn’t known it. And he loved her, like she loved him, if only Dottie hadn’t been afraid to leave her town and lose him in some battle he might have to fight while he served in the military. At least, Addie was glad it had worked out between them. She never thought she would be an undercover FBI matchmaker for a pair of cougars.

Getting her mind back on the current mission, she glanced at the fall foliage, the trees in yellows and oranges, reds and greens, the grass still green. So pretty, yet the scene could change in a heartbeat if this went sideways. She buttoned her jacket to keep the chilly air out. Where was the blasted courier?

She was feeling tense, unsettled, wary that something wasn’t right. Sure, a courier could be late, but she didn’t like how this was already going down.

Then someone cried out in the woods, well away from her view from where she was standing, and she knew she shouldn’t leave her position, but what if the guy was the courier and in real trouble? What if he wasn’t and she missed meeting the courier?

She had to help whoever the person was and raced toward the sounds of a struggle. When she reached the man, he was lying dead on the ground. And it was the man she was supposed to meet. The courier. She called for backup and pulled her gun out and saw a man run out of the woods and away from her.

“Stop!” she ordered, ready to chase after him, but she couldn’t leave the courier here, if he had the information on him still.

Paris Pepion and Dirk Carter came to her aid and assured her they would handle this. Paris was calling in the murder, while Dirk was looking through the courier’s clothes for the information. Addie took off running after the murderer, having to catch him. What if he had the information? Though he could have just been a mugger.

“Wait for backup!” Dirk called after her.

She couldn’t. As important as this was, he should have come with her.

She couldn’t see the suspect. With her speed and agility and her scent abilities as a cougar, she had the guy’s scent and she was gaining on him. Then she saw the guy wearing a gray hoody, blue jeans, and running shoes. Tucked under his arm, he had a manila envelope, and she was certain it was the courier’s package of the information they needed. Running after him, intent on taking him down, she knew this could be a way to help overcome her PTSD—face another assailant, only come out the winner this time. She had to do it, had to prove to herself she could.

At least that’s what she thought when she suddenly realized the man’s scent had stopped. Damn! He had doubled back and he had to have hidden in the brush near her. When she ran back to where she’d discovered the last scent of him, he leapt out of the brush at her. Her cat-like actions made her quick, but he was taller and heavier than her, and he took her down in the brush opposite where he’d been hiding across the path. She dropped her revolver and he slammed her head against the ground, though the fallen leaves cushioned the impact. Still, she saw stars and she knew if she didn’t recover her gun, or reach her dagger, she could be as dead as the courier.

She saw the red-stained blood of the dagger he was holding before he cut her. She reached her gun in the leaves and shot him, but not before he managed to stab her.

If she didn’t get out of this business, she was certain she was going to die. She’d had enough adventure for a lifetime. She wanted a cougar to love. To come home to nights. To have his babies. A cougar like Dan. After all this time, could they really connect?

That was the last thought she had as she lost consciousness.