Seduction's Shift (2 page)

Ary had heard of him before; she’d seen him in the village through the years before he left for good sixteen years ago. After that she’d only heard about what he was doing, and even that was just whispers. Nobody wanted to be caught talking of the shadow who’d gone rogue.

Now he was back, and he was holding her captive. Why, Ary had no idea, but she knew it couldn’t be anything good.

This new location was an old building. She’d seen a little through the blindfold she’d managed to loosen by rubbing her head against the cab of the truck they transported her in. It was a dilapidated shack once used to mix the drugs that were eventually shipped out of the forest and sold. They were beyond the Gungi now, on the other side of the river and through thick brush that was good for hiding drug houses such as this one. The boards around her creaked, and slats were missing from the walls. But it was covered with a huge dark-colored tarp that kept the elements out—and whatever unlawfulness was going on inside in.

They’d dragged her through one large room, her legs slapping against table legs that wobbled and fell. The racket they’d created was deafening, but they were so far out that there was no one to hear. They could do whatever they wanted to do to her out here; she could scream until her lungs dried of air, but nobody would hear her. Nobody would come to her rescue.

Ary inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. Her chest hurt with the action because to capture her they’d had to fight her. She’d been trained in what the humans called self-defense using martial arts techniques. Coming from behind and grabbing her wasn’t exactly a good idea. When she’d finally fallen to the ground in hopes of rolling out of their reach, one grabbed her up, throwing her over his massive shoulder. The other had tied her ankles and hands, and when she’d screamed a string of obscenities at them they’d gagged her. She suspected the bruise to her face came when they dropped her to the floor and she’d landed painfully on her cheek. After Sabar’s directive, they’d moved her a little more carefully this time around.

This time only her hands were tied—she figured because they were tired of carrying her. Still, escape wasn’t going to be easy. The disgusting gag was thankfully gone, left on the floor in the first hut where Sabar had thrown it. And they’d taken the blindfold off, probably figuring she couldn’t see much. But her cat could see everything. If she could just get outside, she could figure out her exact location, shift, and go home. Or she could just shift.

The idea had come to her many times since they’d taken her. Shift into a jaguar, kill her assailants, and call it a day. Then what? The bodies would be found; autopsies would prove a vicious predator had taken their lives. Humans would be outraged and pour into the forest looking to shoot anything on four legs. It would be like leading a lamb to slaughter, and it was something she would never do to her people.

But she would escape. There was no way in hell Sabar Tavares would have the satisfaction of killing her. That’s what she assumed this was all about; after all, killing was what Sabar was best known for.

Closing her eyes to that thought, Ary let her head fall back against the rickety wall. She felt spears of loose wood sticking into her scalp but didn’t care. She needed to think, needed to figure out what to do.

Only when her eyes closed, the one thing Ary saw—the single person appearing in her mind—wasn’t Sabar or her other two captors. It was Nick. The only man to hold her and her heart captive and live to tell.

She didn’t want to think about him, didn’t want to remember the contours of his face, the shape of his eyes, the feel of his lips. All she wanted to do was forget. But that wasn’t going to happen. She’d figured that out years ago. What had happened that night between them wasn’t going to go away, especially since she’d never allowed another male to touch her intimately, ever. Dominick Delgado had been her first and only.

And it was times like these when that realization sent a piercing ache through her heart that rivaled only death itself.

Speaking of which, the dank stench of Rogues in the vicinity pierced her nostrils. She sat up straighter, ready to do whatever was necessary to stay alive.

They came inside with loud, clumsy movements. Ary knew instantly they weren’t trained soldiers, probably just some outcasts Sabar had picked up when he arrived in the forest. One of them held a bowl and nodded to the other, who came closer to her.

The taller one—whose name she heard shouted by his companion—was Jose. He didn’t speak a lot of English, and he looked at her with hungry eyes. Even hungrier hands had groped her until she’d bitten him in defense. The other one—Franco—stank of liquor and moved with a lazy tangle of limbs. He preferred kicking to fondling her. She despised them both and could probably kill them without too much trouble. Once more, she axed that idea. If she didn’t act with caution, the repercussions to the tribe would be too deadly. Besides, there had already been reports of suspicious deaths in the forest, and Ary didn’t want to add to them.

It took monumental effort to calm the wild beating of her heart, but Ary was determined to handle this. Jose came closer, grabbing her by the hair and lifting her off the floor. She kicked out, catching him at the knees and thighs until he wised up and backed away, still holding her hair with his outstretched arm. Her hands were tied behind her back or she would have simply punched him.

“
Mal-humorada
bitch!” Jose yelled, spittle flying into her face as he jerked her hair hard.

Ary kicked again, catching him in the lower stomach. “I’ll show you a feisty bitch!” she yelled right back at him.

“Should have kept her ass gagged,” Franco said, moving closer with the bowl. “Hold her still so we can get this over with.”

“Ainda! Ainda!”

“You keep still!” was her retort, which was answered by another yank of her hair and a quick reversal of his limbs that had her midsection clasped between his legs and her head pulled back so that her neck was bared. If they were vampires, she would have been deathly afraid. As it stood she was wondering what would happen next.

She didn’t have to wonder for long.

Franco approached, standing over her with a sick grin on his dirty face. “Now, open up like a good little girl.”

Ary instinctively clamped her mouth shut, only to have her jaw jerked open and squeezed so tight she thought it would break.

He laughed as he poured the warm liquid into her mouth. She spit and shook her head, spilling more than she swallowed. Still, her throat constricted, pulling some of the liquid down into her stomach. She had no idea what it would do to her.

“Drink it all,” he said, turning the bowl until it was upside down. “Then you’ll see who is boss.”

They both laughed. Jose let her fall to the floor once more where she coughed and tried to spit out any of the remaining liquid. Chuckling wildly, they left. Alone again, Ary gasped for breath, her mind scrambling as her nose recognized a scent. It was in that bowl, what they’d poured down her throat. It was familiar. Something she had smelled before, possibly handled in her work as a
curandero
. It was something … something … that could be deadly, she thought with another wrenching cough that unfortunately didn’t bring up enough of the liquid to save her life.

Chapter 3

The cat roared as it stood with its front paws propped up on a huge rock, while its back paws were rooted in the damp soil. Its head rocked back, mouth opening wide, teeth baring to the wild, and it roared again and again. Rage and pain warring inside, edging it to the point of total despair.

When its flanks heaved with the effort of its ruthless howls, the cat stepped down, its paws moving wearily. Night had already fallen over the forest, like a dark cloak that made everything beneath the canopy even darker for those that did not possess night vision as the jaguar did. Mist floated in the distance as the waterfall roared and cascaded over the cliffs. The cat had been to this spot before, had remembered the comfort and serenity of this location. It had been long ago, but the cat knew, it remembered, and it hungered.

Moving closer to the water, it rested its head right beside the bank so that the sprinkle from the waterfall would rain onto it, tickling along its head and back: a soothing cool against the raging heat that threatened to consume it. Lying there its eyes closed and lifted, closed and lifted slower and slower until they finally stayed closed. Its breathing was slowing, more normal as it lay, paws pulled under its flanks, flat on the forest floor.

Where is she?
Nick’s human mind thought. His cat had covered miles and miles of the forest in an unsuccessful attempt to track her. But she was here, he knew that, felt it deep within. She was still in the Gungi, being held somewhere against her will for a reason he could not fathom. At the moment the why did not matter. To him it was only about getting her back and keeping her safe. He would settle for nothing less.

His temples throbbed as the shift rattled through his human body. He stood, his bare feet padding over the damp floor of the forest. Kneeling once more, he dipped his hands into the creek, scooping water up and splashing it onto his face. Around him verdant mosses and vines hung like beards surrounding the stream that bled into the larger body of water known as the Amazon basin.

“They haven’t gone far.”

Nick didn’t turn toward the voice. He didn’t need to. It was Roman Reynolds, his best friend. The black jaguar had shifted, and now the six-foot-two-and-a-half-inch man stood head held high as he continued to scent the area. Behind him and to his left was Xavier Santos-Markland, Nick’s other best friend. X was still in cat form coming up on his haunches, his claws raking down a tree as he tried to pull the scent of a Rogue from its bark.

They were with him, always. Nick was comforted in that fact, even though he wasn’t certain this time their companionship would be enough.

“They’d have to stick close to the river. Only the water can mask their scent,” Nick was saying, his gaze scanning the terrain.

It had been years since he’d been in the forest—sixteen to be exact. And none of them were used to running free in cat form. They’d almost forgotten to leave their clothes buried beneath some rather large buttress roots just outside the village. A light drizzle tickled Nick’s naked body, and he inhaled its fresh dewy scent with just a touch of homesickness he hadn’t anticipated. The Gungi never had a dry season, only a wet one and an even wetter one, so the rain was as natural as breathing here. And it felt different, Nick admitted. In the States he’d grown accustomed to putting up an umbrella and running to get out of the rain. Here in the wild where he’d been born, he tilted his head back and let the cool dampness welcome him.

X roared from beside him then shifted and waded into the water. Jaguars were not fans of swimming, but X had always been the best tracker of the threesome. If a scent was dimmed by water, X could still find it. Nick watched his longtime friend dip his bald head beneath the surface of the river and come back up seconds later, dark eyes blinking.

“They’ve been here,” he said, turning his head and looking toward the west.

“There’s nothing that way but more land, no shelter,” Rome offered.

“No tribal shelter,” Nick said, trying to peer through the thick brush of trees in that direction. The air was heavy with moisture, and the drone of cicadas and crickets filtered through the area.

“Outsiders,” X replied with a nod.

“We should head back to the village and ask more questions. I don’t like that her father hasn’t been seen, either.”

That was Rome, ever the cautious one of the group.

“I want her found now,” Nick said through clenched teeth. He was already walking toward the west end of the forest regardless of whether his friends followed. Frustration dogged him daily. He wondered where she was—if she was even still alive.

“We all want her found,” Rome said, clasping a hand on Nick’s shoulder.

Nick pulled away. “You don’t understand.”

Rome shook his head. “I do.”

That’s right, Rome was mated now. Kalina Harper was his
companheiro
. Their joining ceremony had taken place just two nights ago. Out of respect, Nick had held off ripping through the forest to find Ary until now. But he refused to wait another moment.

“When Sabar had Kalina, I wanted to tear down every building in DC to find her and kill anyone who dared to touch her. I understand more than you know. But you need to be smart about this. Think before acting.”

“She’s been missing for days!” Nick roared. “She could be dead!”

Saying it aloud was like a knife in his chest. Nick staggered back at the mere thought that he’d never see Ary again. It had been so long—sixteen years—since he’d seen or heard from her. The latter he could blame himself for, because he’d never tried to contact her once he was gone. That had been a part of the deal he’d made with his parents and Ary’s. It had been the biggest mistake of his life.

“Search yourself,” Rome said, still speaking in that calm tone that drove Nick crazy half the time. “Close your eyes and focus on her. You would feel if she were dead.”

Nick didn’t want to close his eyes, didn’t want to admit that Rome was probably right. Of the threesome, Nick was known as the impulsive one, the one who acted first and asked questions later. X was more reserved, but moved with lethal precision. Rome, the Faction Leader, was just that: a leader at all times. He acted in the best interests of the entire Topètenia tribe and the Shadow Shifters as a whole. He considered everything, all possibilities, before he acted. Nick didn’t possess that type of calm, unfortunately, and never claimed to be anything other than what he was.

“She’s alive,” he said finally. A fraction of the stress he’d been enduring slipped away with thought. He wasn’t just saying what he knew Rome wanted to hear. He believed it, in his mind and in his soul; he believed she was still alive.

Rome nodded as X came around to stand beside them. “Then let’s head back to the village for the night and get a fresh start in the morning. If shifters have her, they’ll be expecting a night attack. They won’t anticipate our city mentality of getting up early.”