Silence of the Wolf (27 page)

“Damn… right.” He quickly tossed the food on the plates, gathered her in his arms, and started kissing her—and she was reminded of that kiss on the slopes when they'd become a video sensation for the whole pack.

Except for the cool Texas breeze and one coyote witness off in the distance, this time they were alone. And she decided that life was too short.

She wanted dessert first so she dragged him toward the house, plates in hand.

“What about our steaks?” he asked.

“Priorities change,” she said, smiling up at him. “Some things just won't wait.”

“Amen to that.”

Read on for an excerpt from
Jaguar Hunt
, the upcoming book in Terry Spear's action-packed and sizzling-hot jaguar shape-shifter series

David Patterson parked his car and headed into the Clawed and Dangerous Kitty Cat Club, a Dallas-based social gathering spot for jaguar shifters. Humans didn't know that the shifters even existed and the shifters meant to keep it that way. The owners of the establishment didn't restrict humans from frequenting the place. More business meant more money. David wasn't there to support the club; his current task as a Special Forces Golden Claw JAG agent was to follow two unruly teens—jaguar shifter twins Alex and Nate Taylor—and bring them into the JAG branch if they violated one more law—jaguar shifter or otherwise.

This was not the kind of mission JAG agents normally took on—unless the organization felt the teens were at risk or that they could be a welcome asset to the branch and the agent was between assignments.

Neither of the boys was supposed to be in a club that served alcohol, which he would let slide if they were only there to watch the dancers in their skimpy leopard-skin loincloths and micro-bikini tops.

The place was more crowded than David remembered the last time he was here. One rowdy group caught his attention. They looked…
different
. Many were in great shape—almost as if they were shifters in the Service. But they were speaking in a smattering of foreign languages —Spanish, Russian, Chinese—and some of them wore clothes that were…unusual. Tights, sparkly tops, and ballet slippers that looked less like club clothes and more like what a Las Vegas entertainer would wear. The air conditioning blew their scents to him. Not jaguar shifters.

They smelled of elephants, horses, camels, lions, tigers, and dogs.
The circus?
Had to be from there.

He wrinkled his nose. That was the problem with being a shifter—their enhanced ability to smell odors. He noticed other patrons glancing their way, wrinkling their noses.
Must be shifters, too.

The jungle music beat shook the floor and tables as conversations hummed all around him. A few couples danced on the floor, while others were just drinking and talking. Piped-in sounds of parakeets and parrots twittering and an occasional monkey's howl made the silk leaf jungle sound more like the real deal.

David's attention returned to Alex and Nate. Though not as muscular, they were both as tall as David. Alex's hair was blond, his eyes dark blue, while Nate was less tan, and his light brown hair shaggier.

One was dressed in camouflage pants, the other blue jeans, both wearing black T-shirts with pictures of jaguars screen-printed on the front. The words
Panthera onca
—the scientific name for jaguar—announced that they were jaguar shifters, though only their kind would realize that's what they were saying.

When David had been that age, he'd felt the same way. He'd wanted to shout to the world that he was a jaguar shifter and damned proud of it, instead of hiding it from everyone who wasn't like him. Since there were more human females than female jaguar shifters, he'd wanted human girls to see him as someone truly special. He'd often fantasized that girls he'd had crushes on were of his kind and not strictly human. Most of his kind were born as jaguar shifters, but some ended up turning a human, which was not the best of ideas. Though his brother's wife, Maya, had turned her brother's wife-to-be and that had worked out well, despite the trouble it could have caused if Kat had had family.

So he could definitely commiserate with the twins.

The boys grabbed chairs at a table and David sat at another close by. Nate flagged down a server wearing a skimpy leopard-skin dress, cut high on the thighs and low on a very well-developed bust. Red curls bouncing about her shoulders, she smiled brightly at the boys as Alex whispered their drink order.

Grinning, the kids focused on two women who were dancing, breasts jiggling in their teeny bikini tops. David shook his head. The boys were so much like him and his twin brother, Wade, at seventeen.

The server returned with the boys' red-colored drinks topped with lime green paper parasols, the toothpicks seated in cherries.

David was about to move in to ensure the drinks were nonalcoholic when Alex said, “Okay, listen, Nate. We did it your way last time and you know how much I objected. This time we can't take a chance with the missing zoo cat.”

David sat back down in his seat, listening intently. They had to be talking about the missing zoo cat from Oregon. Maya's cousin—Tammy Anderson—was looking for it.

Nate snorted. “Hell, everything would have been fine with the jaguar if all had gone as planned. At least she's safe for now.”

He wanted to hear more of the boys' conversation about the missing cat before deciding whether to take them in for further questioning, but he saw something big and muscular in his peripheral vision. The bouncer. Brown eyes, nearly black, muscles bulging in readiness, mouth turned down.
Hell. Joe Storm
. As much as David didn't want to make this personal, he couldn't help having a grudge toward the guy. David still believed if Joe hadn't stolen Olivia Farmer away from him and promised to marry her—which he had no intention of doing—she wouldn't have committed suicide.

David watched the former JAG agent–turned club bouncer stalk toward the boys. He looked eager to teach the teens they weren't welcome at the club until they were of age. David knew Joe from working with him on a couple of assignments; Joe liked women—too damn well, in David's opinion—made allowances for most men, and had zero tolerance for troublemaking teens.

“Hey, Alex, trouble's coming,” Nate said. Though David knew from experience that kids had to learn from their own mistakes, he also knew how hard Joe could be on them, and David didn't always agree with his stern methods of enforcement.

Before David could reach the boys and protect them, the bouncer grabbed Alex and Nate by the arms and hauled them through the crowded club toward the back door. “I'll break both your bloody noses,” Joe growled. “See if you'll want to come back for more after that, eh?”

Joe never made idle threats. David had seen him rough up a drunken human who had started a fight in the club. Joe had broken another man's nose for harassing one of the club's dancers. Talking Joe out of what he intended to do was
not
going to work.

David lunged from behind and punched Joe in the side of the head. Joe released the boys, but they didn't leave the club as David had expected they would.

“Go!” he shouted, just as Joe swung around, aiming to plant a fist in David's face.

David ducked and came around to slug Joe in the jaw, but managed to hit him in the temple, knocking the son of a bitch out cold. It was one helluva lucky punch, and it felt damn good, he had to admit. Joe was an ex-marine, ex-boxer, ex-bartender, and looked like he killed men for pleasure, but right now he'd be sporting some major bruises.

Getting the upper hand was probably as much a shock to David as to everyone else in the club. The music stopped and all conversation died. The teens had vanished.

Cheers went up and David gave a thumbs-up to the club patrons' raised glasses, whistles, whoops, and hollers.

Grinning, David hurried to call his boss, Martin Sullivan, director of the JAG branch, about the boys and the missing jaguar as he headed for the door to see if he could catch the kids before they disappeared for good.

“Martin, I've got good news and bad. The good news is that the Taylor twins seem to know something about the missing zoo jaguar. I want in on the case with Tammy Anderson. The bad news is that I'm probably about to get arrested. Can you tell her I'm working with her on this mission and to come pick me up from jail?”

Thanks to my fans who have been dying to read Tom's story in
Silence
of
the
Wolf
forever! And for your patience! To my editor, Deb Werksman, who makes it possible for me to share more of my wolf tales, and now even some jaguar shifter tales. Who knows where it will all end? To Danielle, my publicist, who is my marketing inspiration, and to the editorial staff and the cover artists who design such beautiful covers, creating praise for the characters well before the books are even available to the world and making me proud to say that these books are mine. The cover for
Silence
of
the
Wolf
is just one more lovely example.

And to the Rebel Romance Writers critique partners—Vonda, Judy, Carol, Tammy, Randy, Pam, and Betty—for being a super support group that has helped me immensely throughout the years. Thanks to Bonnie Gill, Donna Fournier, and Loretta Grucz Melvin who all helped me brainstorm some issues. And to my fans from all across the world who offer suggestions for titles and which characters they want to see get their happily-ever-afters next, send pictures of hunky men and of wolves and jaguars, and tell me why they've fallen in love with my wolves and jaguars—you continue to be my inspiration!

USA
Today
bestselling author and an award-winning writer of paranormal romance, Terry Spear also writes true stories for adult and young adult audiences. She's a retired lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Reserves and has an MBA from Monmouth University. She also creates award-winning teddy bears, Wilde & Woolly Bears.

When she's not writing or making bears, she's teaching online writing courses. Her family has roots in the Highlands of Scotland where her love of all things Scottish came into being. Originally from California, she's lived in eight states and now resides in the heart of Texas. She is the author of the Heart of the Wolf series and a new jaguar shape-shifter series, as well as numerous articles and short stories for magazines.