Authors: Danica Avet
Book three in the Cajun Heat
series.
Being a human in a parish filled
with shifters, Colette Robicheaux has learned to be tough as nails. A hunter
with the kind of lethal skills that make most men nervous, all it takes is a
single hot look from Zachary Trahan to make her melt into a puddle of goo. And
this tiger shifter doesn’t fight fair, using his hot body and his many skills
in the kitchen to melt her panties. But there’s a danger in the swamps that
threatens to tear them apart, an evil that could turn this hunter into prey.
When chef Zachary Trahan took a
break from work to hunt, the last thing he expected to find was his mate. A
human huntress with a hot temper, a quick trigger finger and the kind of body
destined to keep him up at night, Colette makes his tiger purr. He’ll have to
fight his stubborn mate, her impossible family and the threat hiding in the
swamps before he can finally claim her for his own.
A Romantica®
paranormal erotic romance
from
Ellora’s Cave
An undisclosed location
She ran.
The stitch in her side had grown into a searing pain and her
feet didn’t just ache, they burned, but she couldn’t stop. They were out here
with her. They could be behind the next bush, next to that tree, anywhere. And
she wouldn’t see them until it was too late.
If she had been like them, able to change at will, this
might have been a fair fight. Or if they’d given her a weapon, she might have
been able to defend herself at least with one of them. But they’d stripped her
naked and turned her loose. She stumbled over a log and nearly pitched
headfirst into a tree trunk. It might have snapped her neck, which would’ve
been a lot better than what they had planned for her.
Why was she fighting this anyway?
She paused and looked around, desperately trying to catch
her breath. She had no idea where she was and fear made her blind. She was a
city girl who’d never stepped toe into anything other than a park, yet here she
was in a vast, strange wilderness and the monsters were chasing her.
How did she get here? Why? The last thing she remembered was
flirting with the guy the others called Roscoe. She knew she shouldn’t have
gotten into his car with him, but she’d been fooled by his beautiful blue eyes
and his charming smile. All the loneliness she’d felt since arriving in New
Orleans seemed worth it with Roscoe smiling at her like that, as though he knew
how isolated she’d been. It’d seemed harmless until a hand appeared from the
backseat and slapped a chemical-drenched cloth over her face.
When she’d awakened in a cold cage, Roscoe was nowhere to be
seen, but they had her surrounded. Why did she keep thinking Roscoe would sweep
in and protect her? He’d been the one to trap her, but something, like a
whispered memory, pecked at her mind here one second and gone the next. It had
to be a false, stupid hope that someone would save her. Her skin pebbled at the
memory and she rubbed her arms, peering through the shadows at the woods around
her. She really didn’t want to die here the way they planned. No one was coming
to save her. Not Roscoe, not anyone unless she could rescue herself. She wanted
to go home, apologize to her mom for their last fight and bury her head in that
comforting embrace. But Kansas was a long way away from…wherever this was.
A twig snapped behind her, sending her into another full-out
sprint. Panic steered her. She was only twenty-four, only a stupid human girl
who’d thought moving to New Orleans was the perfect way to celebrate her
independence. She’d wanted to be wild and party like a rock star, to enjoy
Mardi Gras, to laugh and have fun because you only live once. A harsh,
breathless laugh escaped her as she clipped a tree trunk with her shoulder,
burning pain searing her skin. If these monsters had their way, she wouldn’t
see any of the things she’d moved to south Louisiana for.
Even as the thought crossed her mind, something sharp
slashed at the backs of her legs, right above her knees. She screamed as she
fell to the ground, hitting it hard enough to punch the air out of her lungs.
But she didn’t give up. She tried to get back on her feet, but her legs refused
to work. The excruciating pain and warmth spreading down her calves suggested a
horror she didn’t want to comprehend. But still, she didn’t quit. She dug her
fingers into the thick dirt and dragged herself along the ground.
Down here the scent of earth, decay and a thick musk
suggested she was in a place that didn’t see much sunlight. Probably a swamp of
some kind, a quiet place where she could become the animal the monsters thought
her.
She didn’t know how far she managed to move, but her slow
progress allowed the others to find her, their heavy footfalls vibrating
through her. She refused to look back, stubbornly trying to get away. She hadn’t
made a sound since she fell and she wouldn’t do it now. Logically, she knew she
wasn’t going to get away. She was going to die out here and no one would ever
know how it happened. Tears burned her eyes as she realized her mom’s last
memory of her was going to be the horrible fight they had and she said a silent
prayer, begging for her mom’s forgiveness.
A man’s bare foot appeared in front of her. It was an
elegant foot for such an ugly man. She didn’t need to look up at him to know he
was naked. That was the way they’d all appeared to her, but then they weren’t
like her.
“Animals,” she spat at the foot, not caring that she was
antagonizing them. “Filthy, stupid, fucking animals.”
They laughed and the foot in front of her hooked under her
injured shoulder and flipped her to her back. They surrounded her, wearing
those weird masks they’d worn when they first appeared to her. How they’d
managed to keep them on while shifted to their animal forms wasn’t worth
worrying about. Not when they each lifted the mask to reveal their
normal-looking faces. No, not normal because there was an intense, sick hatred
in their eyes as they glowered down at her.
The leader, the one who’d flipped her over, stopped her with
a single foot on her throat. She knew him from somewhere, as though he was
someone important, someone she should recognize.
“We’re not the animals here, Miz Denton,” he said in a calm
tone. His teeth gleamed white in the darkness as he smiled. “We’re the true
rulers of the world and we allow your kind to live in it, allowing you the
pathetic belief that you actually matter. It sickens me how humans like you
actually believe you’re something special.” He squatted next to her, more of
his weight pressing down on her throat. Spots danced before her eyes. He
whispered as though confiding a secret. “If I had my way, we’d slaughter you
all, but this is much more fun, don’t you think? One by one we’ll eradicate
your disgustingly weak species from this earth and enjoy a good hunt while
we’re at it. Before you die tonight, Miz Denton, you’ll discover the true
meaning behind the power we wield.”
The pressure on her throat eased and she coughed, blood
spraying over his foot as he stood. “Why me?” she couldn’t help but cry. “Why?”
He laughed and it was such a warm, charming sound, it
reminded her of Roscoe, the betraying bastard with his heavenly blue eyes. “Do
you remember a young man named Paul, Miz Karen Denton of Topeka, Kansas?”
She felt her jaw drop in shock as the man she’d rejected two
weeks earlier appeared next to the monster. Paul had been a friend from work, a
jackal shifter and he was cute, but she didn’t like him enough to go out with
him.
“You thought you were better than me?” he asked her now with
a sneer on his face. His muddy-brown eyes raked over her naked body seconds
before he spit on her. “Get that look off your face, whore. I wouldn’t touch
you with my enemy’s hand now.” The smile that curled his lips made her bite
back a whimper. “You’re going to pay, you little human bitch.”
Claws slid from the tips of his fingers and his teeth grew
until they extended over his lip. Karen, who’d sworn she wouldn’t give them the
satisfaction of hearing her scream, couldn’t hold back her cries of agony and
fear as fangs and claws tore her to pieces. Every tear, every bite, every
rending of her flesh wrung another shriek from her throat until she had nothing
left, until she couldn’t feel anything else, until the last thing she saw was
the leader standing over her. His face and hands were coated in her blood.
“And thus ends another successful hunt for Fang and Claw,”
he announced to the equally bloody shifters surrounding him. “Paul, my boy, you’ve
shown great aptitude for this. Consider yourself inducted into the club. And
don’t forget her heart is yours.” The chuckle he made after this announcement
was accompanied by a rip in her chest. His smile followed her into the abyss as
she welcomed the succor of death.
* * * * *
Colette Robicheaux paused in the middle of loading her boat
for the night’s hunt, her head turning in the direction of the eerie scream.
Her cousins paused as well, their happy chatter falling silent as the cry
echoed around the swamps they called home. There was a tension among them now
that hadn’t been there before.
They all knew that despite what the authorities said, those
screams weren’t from a cougar. They were too frequent, too agonized and human
to be anything else but a woman in extreme fear and pain. Colette’s heart sat
in her throat, a lump that threatened to choke her with rage and sympathy for
the woman. But there was no telling exactly where the sound came from.
“We should go look for her,” her oldest cousin Cotton said
firmly.
Beau, his brother, scoffed. “You know we won’t find her.
Whatever’s out there gets rid of all the evidence.”
Cotton turned on his younger brother, the two falling into
the comforting sameness of sibling arguments. Colette tuned them out, her eyes
trained on the distant woods without adding to their stress relief. They were
both correct. They should go look for that woman, but Beau hit the nail on the
head. They’d never find her. The hunters and families of Bayou Ange, the small
woodland community in the far corner of Pointe-Aux-Chat Parish, had been
searching for the source of those screams for as long as she could remember.
Parties would go out, combing the woods they were all so familiar with only to
return with nothing.
Their human senses, despite years of honing them by hunting
the wild game in the swamps, weren’t able to detect anything unusual. And the
few times her shapeshifter cousins came to Bayou Ange, they never discovered
anything weird. The animals they relied on for food remained unfazed by the
screams, as though they were a part of the natural landscape. The ground never
held evidence of what sounded like murder long enough to call in the
authorities. It was a pointless exercise to hit the woods month after month
searching for the woman who screamed, but that didn’t stop Colette from wishing
she could. The more superstitious people thought the screamer was a ghost.
Colette thought that was a load of bullshit. It was a real person, they all
were and they were out there at the mercy of a monster.
“Are we goin’ froggin’ or what?” Cotton finally demanded as
he clicked on his headlamp. Colette didn’t even need to turn around to know her
cousin was sulking. She could hear it in his voice. She knew he was pissed
because he’d lost the argument to go after the woman to Beau’s logic. “We don’t
get paid for sittin’ on our asses doin’ nothing.”
Beau muttered something in Cajun French, which started off
another round of arguing. Colette finally tore her gaze away from the dark
woods. The scream wouldn’t come again. Not tonight at least. But this time next
month they’d hear it. And she’d have to struggle with the urge to run into the
woods to find that woman and do something about her agony.
She turned just in time to see Cotton launch a fist at Beau’s
head. “Hey! Stop that and let’s catch some frogs.”
Despite outweighing her and towering over her much shorter
frame, the boys broke apart and stepped into the boat. Colette shook her head
as she climbed in after them, sitting up at the engine, which she kicked over
with one tug. The motor purred to life, cutting through the tension that had
killed some of their happiness at being in their beloved woods. Colette cast
one more glance over her shoulder, unable to help herself. One day she’d find
the source of those screams and God help whoever caused them.
“Whatcha waiting for? Kick it in the ass!” Beau called back
to her, his violet eyes sparkling with excitement.
Colette shot him an answering smile and revved the motor,
sending the boat jetting down the bayou, the Robicheaux boys letting out Cajun “yodels”
that could probably be heard clear to Maison Rouge, the distinctive “Aiyeee”
echoing around the swamp.
* * * * *
He stared at the shack, his sensitive nose picking up the
scent of the woman he’d left here hours before. There was no trace of her now.
He was too late. He’d intended to get back in time to confront his mysterious
boss, to press for his acceptance into the inner circle. The girl had trusted
him, falling into his arms as though she belonged there the same way the others
had, their human senses too weak to tell they were in danger.
And he was too late again.
His wolf snarled and snapped with frustration and fury.
There wasn’t even the faintest hint of a trail to follow. Karen’s scent
disappeared at the door as though it never existed. But he knew. He’d carried
her in here at his boss’s request. And she was gone. Vanished without a trace.
His claws punched through the tips of his fingers and his fangs threatened to
slide free of his gums as he imagined the hunt, the capture.
But he’d missed his chance. Again. Not next time though.
Next time, he’d prove his worthiness and end the mystery once and for all.