Prologue
The Blackstone Dragon Heir is the first book in the Blackstone Mountain series, but all the novels can be read as standalone shifter romances. However, you might want to first check out the prequel novella, , which is .
***
She had to stay quiet.
Everyone knew shifters had keen senses. Hearing. Sight. Taste. Smell. She'd taken off her shoes a while back, hoping it would silence her feet on the pavement as she ran. She was wearing dark clothing and it was evening, but that wouldn't do anything since they could see in the dark. Taste, she didn't have to worry about, but smell was another problem. They'd probably gotten a sniff of her in the apartment and were now hunting her down.
This is going to suck, Catherine thought. But she didn't have a choice. Good thing she knew about this alleyway behind a group of restaurants in the strip mall not far from her Los Angeles apartment. Four industrial-sized dumpsters were sitting in front of her. Eenie, meenie, miney … who the fuck cared? Just pick one!
Catherine approached the middle dumpster. The choice was easy because that one had been left open. Gingerly, she grabbed the top and hoisted herself up. She swung a leg over, and her foot caught on the inside edge of the dumpster. Thank God. One more push and she went tumbling over, landing in a wet, slimy pile of steaming food garbage.
She wanted to gag, but she couldn’t. Her life depended on her being able to stay quiet. She stood up, got one last gulp of air, then shut the lid. Pinching her nose, she began to breathe through her mouth, which wasn’t much better, but she didn’t have a choice. Tears pricked at her eyes.
Rissa. Her roommate. Her friend. She was gone. Those bastards!
Catherine bit her lip, trying to stop herself from crying out. She knew Rissa had been in a lot of trouble, but she didn’t know how deep it went. She was a wild child, loved walking on the dark side, and had a weakness for bad boys.
Goddamn Ivan. She knew he was trouble the moment he walked up to them at the bar where both she and Rissa worked. Catherine knew exactly what he was. A shifter. But Rissa was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And just like said moth, Rissa was gone. Extinguished. Just like that.
“Her scent is here!” The heavily-accented English was distinct in the quiet of the night. It was followed by footsteps echoing throughout the alley.
Fuck. Her body tensed.
“Goddamn garbage!” another voice said. “Can’t smell a fucking thing in here. How can you be sure?”
“Her scent ended right outside here. Where would she be?”
“Search everywhere!”
This was it. The end. They would find her, and they would kill her. Put a gun to her head and end her life. Just like they did to Rissa. The moment was frozen in her mind.
The footsteps got closer and closer.
"Come out, come out," one of them mocked. "If you're in here, come out now. I promise it won't hurt. I'll make it quick."
The voice made her blood freeze. He’d been the man who was holding the gun. Andrei? That’s the name she thought she’d heard.
Her mind was telling her to just give up. It was hopeless. Don’t make them angry. But, no, she wanted to fight. She didn’t come halfway across the world, leaving everything behind, just to be killed. Fight, damn you!
Suddenly, a new voice broke the silence in the air. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing?”
“Go back inside,” one of the thugs said. “This does not concern you.”
“Fuck you. I know you guys. You’re from the Chesnovak Brotherhood.”
“Yeah, and if you know what’s good for you—”
“Oh yeah? Well, my cousin’s Giorgio Diviani. Know the name?” Pause. “Yeah, I thought so. The Divianis kicked your asses during the last war. And now we gotta keep the truce, unless we want cops sniffing around or those anti-shifter groups after us again.”
“We’re looking for someone.”
"What the fuck do you think I am? Missing Persons? Get out of here, or I'll call my cousin."
Catherine's heart thumped against her chest as the silence seemed to stretch on.
“Fine. We’ll leave.”
“And I don’t want none of you hanging around. I’ll have some of my boys escort you to your car.”
The conversation outside became unintelligible as she heard the shuffling of footsteps get farther and farther away from her hiding place.
Catherine sat inside, counting to a hundred before she finally thought it was safe. Opening the top, she took a gulp of the cool air—not fresh, but better than what was inside. She climbed out of the dumpster and ignored the pain that shot through her ankle as her bare feet connected with the ground.
Shit, shit, shit. Too close. But it wasn't over. Those guys were going to hunt her down and kill her. Fuck. She had to get out of town. L.A. had been her home for a year, but she didn't really feel connected here. It was just a place to pass through until she figured things out.
Thankfully, she had thought to put her phone and driver's license in her pocket before she had gone up to her apartment. She fished the old-fashioned dumb phone out and took a deep breath. No choice. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to go. She scrolled through the contact list, stopping at one she had marked *** as her finger hovered over the call button. Decision made, she mashed out a quick message.
The Cabernet was fine, but the weather is getting too hot for red wine. I need something else.
She pressed send. Her contact would understand the code they had devised long ago. This was her last hope.