Wild Cat, Page 2

  All was silence. Nothing but rising wind humming through the building.

  Diego reassessed his situation. He had a Shifter running around up here, plus one asshole with a tranquilizer gun. Some one hunting a Shifter? Could be. The laws about humans hunting un-Collared Shifters—those Shifters who had refused to take the Collar and live in Shiftertowns—had loosened in the last couple years.

  But this Shifter hunter had pegged Jemez and Hooper with tranqs, and was trying to shoot Diego too. Why, if the guy was hunting the Shifter legally?

  Another pop had him rolling out of the way just before a dart struck the catwalk where Diego’s head had been.

  As he scrambled up again, the catwalk, loosened and dry-rotted from years under the desert sun, slid out from under his feet. Diego lunged at the nearest steel beam, the metal burning his skin as he tried and failed to grab it.

  The catwalk’s boards splintered and came away from the bolts. Diego’s heart jammed in his throat as his body dropped. Splinters rained past him. At the last desperate moment, he got one arm hooked around a girder, and he hung there, stuck like a bug fifty-one stories up.

  Son of a fucking—

  He couldn’t swing his feet around to get them back on the girder. His arm shook hard. He realized he still held his Sig in his other hand, but for some reason, he could not make himself open his fingers and let it go.

  His arm was aching, and he was slipping. He was going to fall. Five hundred feet to the ground. Why the hell hadn’t he asked to be put on desk duty?

  Diego tried to swing his feet up again, but he missed the girder. The jolt of his feet swinging back down nearly jarred him loose. That’s it, his hold was going. Damn it, damn it, damn it…

  Two strong hands caught Diego under his shoulders; two very strong arms dragged him up and up, stomach grating on the beam, and onto the catwalk. Diego lay there, facedown on the relative solidity of a catwalk, drawing long, shuddering breaths.

  When he could, he rolled onto his back and found himself looking up into the white green eyes and ferocious face of the Shifter, again in its half-shifted state. A female Shifter, from the hint of breasts under the fur and from the sheer, strange beauty of her. She had a wildcat’s face, and the morning light glinted on silver links of a chain around her neck.

  Before Diego could find his voice, the Shifter spun away in another gravity-defying leap. She landed on all fours, flowing back into the shape of a snow leopard. Diego sat up and watched her, stunned by the beauty of the long, powerful animal running with inhuman grace fifty stories above the ground.

  Another pop of the tranq gun had him on the floor on his stomach again, this catwalk staying in place. Diego raised his head, finger on his trigger. He heard a snarl, the leopard’s angry growl, and then running feet, both human and animal.

  Diego pointed the gun through the shadows, but he could see nothing. The rising sun showed that he was on this floor alone, though the footsteps continued above him. Lights approached on the road below, Shifter Division finally arriving, bringing a couple patrol cars and an SUV.

  A blinding flash lit up the floor above him. Diego squinted through the spaces in the catwalks, aiming, but the light vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. The running ceased, and all was silent except for the patrol cars’ sirens wailing below.

  Diego lowered his Sig and was about to sit up when two feet landed on the catwalk in front of his face.

  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 breasts tipped with dusky nipples. 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 breasts 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.

  The room smelled like something rotten, the walls dirty yellow and puke green. Shifters liked warm colors, clean paint, and places that didn’t stink of human sweat. Humans considered Shifters to be wild and dangerous, but Shifters had much better taste in décor.

  The door opened, and Cassidy tensed. She’d been sitting in here for hours, no one coming to her, no one offering to let her call a lawyer, or even her brother. But that, she’d heard, was what they did with Shifters.

  The man who came in was the cop she’d saved up in the building. Lieutenant Escobar, she’d heard the others call him.

  He’d been the one to usher her into the back of the patrol car, after he’d draped a blanket around her naked body. His movements had been quick, efficient, his large hands warm.

  She hadn’t realized that humans could be so warm. His voice was dark, sliding around her in liquid syllables, though he hadn’t spoken directly to her since telling Cassidy her rights.

  Which he should have known wasn’t required for Shifters. The man must not know much about Shifters or human laws for Shifters. So why had they sent him in here?

  Lieutenant Escobar gave her a dark-eyed look as he shut the door. Without saying a word, he moved to the table and placed a file folder on it. He took off his suit coat—again, his movements economical—and draped the coat over the back of a chair.

  His white button-down shirt hugged powerful muscles, his black holster and butt of his gun stark against his left side. If he removed the shirt, she knew she’d see an undershirt pasted against hard abs, muscles solid under dark skin.

  Escobar’s black hair was cut short, almost buzzed, which emphasized the sharp lines of his face and a scar that cut across his temple to his forehead. His dark, almost black eyes held intelligence and something even an alpha Shifter would acknowledge.

  I’m not taking shit from you, those eyes told her. If I like what you say, I might play square with you. Try to fuck with me, and you’ll regret it.

  He sat down, smoothing his tie so it wouldn’t be caught by the table’s edge. Escobar opened the file folder and flicked a switch next to the small microphone on the table.

  Without looking at her, he said, “Interview with Cassidy Warden, Shifter from the Southern Nevada Shiftertown, by Lieutenant Diego Escobar, arresting officer.” Diego looked up at Cassidy with those bottomless eyes. “Tell me, Ms. Warden, what you were doing at a closed construction site forty miles west of your Shiftertown.”

  Cassidy felt a strange impulse to blurt out the whole story—tell me everything, and it will be all right, he seemed to say. But Escobar was human, and Cassidy had to be careful. Going out to make her peace with the place her mate had died was only half the story.

  “Shiftertowns aren’t prisons, Lieutenant,” she said, pinning him with her gaze. “I’m allowed to come and go as I please.”

  He didn’t seem impressed. Diego Escobar either didn’t understand that her looking straight into his eyes was a challenge to his authority, or maybe he just didn’t give a rat’s ass.

  “You broke into a fenced-off property on a shut-down, private construction site,” he said. “Plus you endangered the lives of three police officers, one of which happened to be me. So, tell me what you were doing there.”

  Cassidy folded her arms. “None of your business.”

  Diego eyed her for a moment longer, then he flicked off the microphone, stood up, and came to her side of the table.

  He was angry; she could scent that and tell from every tense line on his body. He’d shown deep rage at the construction site too, not necessarily at Cassidy. A man like him shouldn’t fear anything, and yet, in the unfinished skyscraper, he’d been afraid, with a deep gut-wrenching fear, and that was before he’d fallen.

  Diego looked at Cassidy for a while, then he leaned one hip on the table, arms folded across his chest. The movement made his muscles play, but it also let him keep his hand near his gun.

  “Shifter Division had a cage in their SUV,” he said in a flat voice. “They wanted to subdue you with shock sticks, lock you in that cage, and haul you back here. Without the blanket.”

  Cassidy flinched but she didn’t break eye contact. “Typical human fear response,” she said, trying to sound bored.

  “You know why they didn’t, mi ja?” He pinned her with eyes like pieces of night. “Because I told them not to. I’m the only reason you’re not downstairs, naked in an animal cage, with the shits in Shifter Division walking around you deciding what they want to do to you.”

  How did he want her to respond? She didn’t know how to react to humans, especially not to one like him. Humans she danced with at the clubs were different—but those were Shifter groupies who would do anything even to stand next to a Shifter. Diego Escobar was a human who didn’t care that she responded to the warmth and scent of him, that she was a female Shifter without a mate.

  Diego leaned to her. “You cooperate with me and tell me what I want to know, or by regulation, I have to let Shifter Division have you.”

  Cassidy looked right back at him. “Are you playing good cop, bad cop?” she asked tightly. “I’ve heard about that.”

  “I’m playing you tell me what I want to know or I escort you downstairs. There’s no choice, no games. They only let me talk to you because I claimed you saved my life up there.” Diego sat back, holding her with eyes so dark. “Why did you?”

  Cassidy shrugged. She was still wound up from her run from the hunter who’d chased her up into the tower, the edge barely off her fighting instincts.

  The hunter had been stalking her, she realized that now, and must have been waiting for her in the place Donovan had died. She’d picked up the hunter’s scent before she’d gotten the candles lit, and she’d slipped into the woods to shift, but he’d found her before she could get away from him.

  Cassidy had led the hunter back down into the desert, thinking she could lose a human in the giant, half-finished building on the outskirts of town, but damned if he hadn’t followed her right up into it. His seeming defiance of gravity proved that he wasn’t human, nor was he Shifter. He’d terrified her.

  The chase, the cops’ arrival, saving Diego from falling, and then the feel of Diego’s hands as he cuffed her—all had Cassidy’s Shifter adrenaline soaring. Sitting here waiting had increased her tension, not eased it. She needed the comfort of physical contact, to be held and stroked until she calmed down.

  She looked up at Diego and wanted to touch him. No, she needed to touch him. To brush his skin, to feel the rough of whiskers on his face. He’d shaved—she smelled the faint odor of aftershave lotion—but his dark skin was already touched by new growth. A man who had to shave religiously or have a permanent five o’clock shadow.

  Most humans seemed uncomfortable with their own bodies, but Diego Escobar leaned against the table with ease, knowing he controlled the room. His eyes were hard but had little crinkles in the corners, which meant he smiled sometimes.

  Cassidy reached out her hand, slowly so she wouldn’t startle him, and rested it, softly, on his th
igh.

  Steel hard muscles met her touch, and Cassidy closed her eyes. Diego’s flesh was warm beneath the fabric of his pants, and oh, Goddess, wouldn’t it be heaven to touch his bare skin? His skin would be hot and smooth, tight against the strength beneath it.

  Cassidy’s rising need surprised her, but she didn’t move her hand. She hadn’t touched a male since Donovan’s death, hadn’t had a sensual thought until Diego Escobar had looked at her with sin-dark eyes fifty stories above the ground.

  Cassidy opened her eyes. Diego held himself so still, watching her, not making a move to touch her in return.

  “You’re supposed to keep your hands on the table,” he said.

  Cassidy curled her fingers into her palm and drew her hand away. A shudder of pain went through her. She was never going to calm down.

  “Please,” she said. Goddess, now she was begging. Second in command of Shiftertown, Cassidy Warden was begging a human for sympathy.

  “All you have to do is tell me what you were doing up there.”

  “No, I mean. I need…”

  She couldn’t explain. Cassidy got out of the chair. Diego watched her come, not pulling his weapon, but not moving his hand from near it, as though curious to see what she’d do. Cassidy read in his eyes that he’d let her do only what he wanted her to, nothing more.

  Cassidy put her hands on his folded arms. Diego remained still. She slid her palms up his arms, the female in her responding to the firm strength of biceps under the shirt. On up to his shoulders, which held even more power, while Diego simply watched her.

  His warmth was calming, amazingly so. Cassidy had never touched a human before, not like this. She’d had no idea that touching one would be so comforting, so satisfying. It eased something in her that had been tight for a long time.

  Diego still didn’t move as Cassidy stroked her hands up his neck to his close-cut dark hair. She liked how the ends of his hair felt, soft yet prickly. Cassidy cupped his face, his whiskers like fine sandpaper against her fingertips. She read rigid anger in dark eyes, vast pain and guilt. Unhappiness she didn’t understand.