Wild Cat
Two human feet, female feet, naked feet. Diego lifted his head to find two strong female legs, skin tanned from the desert sun, right in front of him. He looked up those legs to two strong thighs, with an enticing thatch of dark blond between them.
Diego forced his gaze to continue upward, over her flat stomach with a small gold stud in her navel to firm human br**sts tipped with dusky ni**les. He made his gaze move past them—though he knew he’d dream about them for a long time coming—to be rewarded by a breathtaking face.
The Shifter woman’s face was strong but contained the softness of beauty. Her eyes were light green, a shimmer of jade in the darkness. Sleek, pale hair fell past her shoulders, and a chain with a Celtic cross fused to it glinted around her slender throat.
Damn. And damn.
She was definitely all woman, not in any in-between state now. Diego had never seen a female Shifter before. His cases had never taken him to Shiftertown, which lay north of North Las Vegas, and he’d only ever seen the male Shiftertown leader, Eric Warden. He’d had no idea that their females were this tall or this crazy gorgeous.
Her br**sts rose with her even breath, and she expressed no embarrassment at her nakedness, didn’t even seem to notice it. “He’s gone,” she said. “You all right?”
“Alive,” Diego croaked. He dragged himself to his feet, trying not to look at her delectable body or to imagine what that smooth, tanned skin would feel like under his hands. “Where’d he go? The guy with the tranq gun?”
“I don’t know.” The answer seemed to trouble her. The man hadn’t fallen, the lift wasn’t moving, and no one below was chasing him.
“At least I’ve got one of you,” Diego said.
“Wha—?” She stared at him, stunned, then her light-colored eyes flicked to the beams above, calculated the distance. Diego brought up his pistol.
“Don’t try it, sweetheart. Get facedown on the floor, hands behind your back.”
“Why? I just saved your ass.”
“You’re trespassing on private property, that’s why, and I have two cops down. On the floor.”
He gestured with the gun. The Shifter woman drew an enraged breath, eyes flashing almost pure white. For a moment, Diego thought she’d leap at him, maybe change into the wildcat or half Shifter and try to shred him. He’d have to plug her, and he really didn’t want to. It would be a shame to kill something so beautiful.
The Shifter woman let out her breath, gave him an angry glare, and then carefully lowered herself facedown on the catwalk. Diego unclipped his handcuffs.
“What’s your name?” Diego asked.
Her jaw tightened. “Cassidy.”
“Nice to meet you, Cassidy,” Diego said. “You have the right to remain silent.” He droned on through Miranda as he closed the handcuffs on her perfect wrists. The Shifter woman lay still and radiated rage.
Diego’s hands were shaking by the time he finished. But that had less to do with his fear of heights than with the tall, beautiful naked woman on the floor in front of him, hands locked together on her sweet, tight ass. The best ass he’d ever seen in his life. He wanted nothing more than to stay up here and lick that beautiful backside, and maybe apply his tongue to the rest of her body.
Diego broke into a sweat, despite the cool wind wafting from below, and made himself haul her to her feet. The Shifter woman’s look was still defiant, but he couldn’t help himself imagining crushing her against him to kiss that wide, enticing mouth.
Diego made himself steer her to the lift.
Not until they were rapidly descending did Diego realize that since Cassidy in her human form had come into his view, he’d not once thought about how far he might have fallen had she not caught him, and the spectacular splat he’d have made when he hit the ground.
CHAPTER TWO
The hunter watched from his safe perch, tranq gun on the girder beside him. He seethed in frustration as Cassidy Warden was led off and stuffed into the back of the patrol car, the damn cops ruining what he needed to do. He’d been so close.
Nothing personal, Shifter bitch, but I need your blood. All of it. It’s the only thing that’s going to open the gate for me.
The hunter hated himself for what he’d become, someone who would hunt another for something more than basic survival.
It is survival! part of him screamed.
No, it was the perversion of what was natural. It was something they would do. They’d made him become like them—cruel, obsessive, ignoring the pain of others—and for that they’d pay.
He had to get Cassidy first. It was the spring equinox, a year after he’d first tried the spell, failing because the human hunters he’d hired made such a mess of it. Cassidy’s mate had died for nothing. The Shifter male had been sacrificed needlessly, and the hunter hated that.
This time, he’d work alone, trusting no one. But he had to hurry. The spell had to be worked at the equinox or the few days on either side of it. Time was running out. Cassidy was the best candidate—she was strong, powerfully strong, and besides, she was still grieving her mate, and Shifters were barely alive when they grieved. He’d be doing her a favor, he’d convinced himself.
His self-loathing filled him again, but his need to work the spell overrode it. He needed to get home. He could taste it. Exile was bitter. This time, he’d succeed, no matter what.
They gave Cassidy a blue coverall to wear and made her sit alone in the interrogation room, her hands on the table. At least they’d let her out of the cuffs.