by Tara Rose
Even after Saffron finally convinced Valerie that she was all right to sit here by herself, and the girl left to walk around the room to talk to others, Micah’s and Stephen’s eyes followed her. She’d have to speak to Emme about it and see if there wasn’t something they could both to do encourage Micah and Stephen a bit more.
Saffron rose and walked into the kitchen to put her plate in the sink, and then she left by the back door so she wouldn’t have to walk past a bunch of people to do so. She had to get out of here. Playing matchmaker for someone else wasn’t any fun when your own heart was breaking.
She opened the back door of the home next door and went straight upstairs to the bedroom she’d shared with Landon and Nevada the past three weeks. She’d considered locking the doors to the house because she was now afraid to be in here alone, but locking the doors would hardly keep anyone out if they really wanted to get in.
She curled up on her side and tried to fall asleep, while images of making love to Nevada and Landon danced through her head. Her entire body ached for them. Her heart and her soul would never be satisfied with any other men again. They were her mates, and she loved them.
She wished again that she’d told them that before they left, but how could she have? It wouldn’t have been fair. When this was over—if it was over—she’d tell them. All she could do now was wait. Wait to either be absolved of this crime, or find out that she had blocked it out, and she was indeed a cold-blooded killer.
* * * *
Landon knew Mason was pissed off as hell that he’d insisted on coming with him and Nevada into the woods near Saffron’s village, but he no longer cared. Just because he couldn’t shift didn’t mean he couldn’t help. He had as much at stake in this as Nevada or Mason.
Before they’d even arrived in Passion Peak, Mason had texted his grandson and told him not to come into town. Gregory Rosen had been spotted on Passion Flower Boulevard, walking in bold daylight, just as if he lived there.
Mason had informed the jaguars, and they had tracked Gregory to a cabin in the woods, on the eastern slope of Sleepy Cat Peak. None of the men had known of its existence before. That was ten hours ago, and the jaguars had been amassing close to the cabin all night, surrounding it.
Landon had been blown away by their organizational skills, as well as by the surveillance equipment they had. The Rosens were shifters as well, of course, but Landon knew they had no clue that all these jaguars and cougars now waited for them to emerge from the cabin again.
Landon was perched on a deer blind next to Nevada. The man had been talking all night, and although Landon should be exhausted right now, he wasn’t. He felt charged with renewed energy. He’d led an odd life. He didn’t trust a lot of people, and rightly so considering what his own parents had done to him, and he’d been raised by shifters who had powers he should have been born with as well. Consequently, he’d always felt like the odd man out.
Working for Notus as a line tech had been the perfect job for him. It was a skill he’d easily learned, it was solitary work, and he was able to be outdoors a lot which, like most shifters, was where he preferred to be. But he’d never felt a sense of purpose. He’d had no real outlet for the passion and energy inside him. Until he’d met Saffron, that is.
Landon had never been in love. He’d never let himself get that close to a woman. But he had now, and he’d be damned if he’d let these cocky, evil leopards see her publicly executed for a crime that they had probably committed, and then pinned on her because it was way too convenient not to do so.
If Mason would prefer he not be here, the hell with him, too. If Mancie’s or Nevada’s name had been on that bounty, Mason would move heaven and earth to clear them, and it wouldn’t matter to him whether one of the men helping him do so could shift or not. Landon didn’t care right now that he had no powers. He would do what he had to do in order to save Saffron.
A voice in his ear crackled, snapping him out his reverie. “Someone is coming out. Get ready, everyone.”
Landon adjusted his earpiece and cocked the deer rifle at his hip. Nevada glanced at it, shaking his head. “You’re going to shoot one of us with that fucking thing.”
“No I won’t.” Landon had borrowed it from Larry Wilson, one of the men who worked for Van Whitney’s restoration business in Passion Peak. Larry was Landon’s neighbor and went deer hunting all the time. Even though Mason had urged Nevada and Landon not to come into Passion Peak, Landon had finally convinced Nevada to take him home, where he’d asked Larry to let him borrow the rifle. Larry had asked no questions. That was who Larry was.
“You told me you haven’t fired a rifle in two years.”
“Like riding a bike. Relax.” Landon knew that Nevada had never ridden a bike and so wouldn’t really understand the reference, but it didn’t matter. Landon was confident that he wouldn’t accidentally shoot someone. He was only here for backup if things went south with the shifters, and his intended target was a Rosen, if need be.
The shifters preferred fights in animal form, and Landon would respect that as much as possible. But he was not going to let them falsely accuse Saffron of this crime, because there was no way he would ever believe she had done it.
“Here we go. Landon, you out there?”
“I’m here, Gary.” Gary Richardson was in charge of this particular mission, and had been doing this kind of work since before Landon and Nevada had been born. He hadn’t hesitated when Landon had asked to come along, so as far as Landon was concerned, that settled it.
“I’ll let you know if we need you, but keep watch, just the same and use your best judgment if you have to fire the rifle.”
“Roger that, Gary.”
Nevada fist-bumped Landon, and then he slithered down the tree. Landon watched, fascinated, as dozens of jaguars dropped to the ground and began to creep forward in human form. If they were forced to shift they would, without worrying about shedding their clothes first. This is what they did, and they were in their glory today.
All but a dozen of the known members of the League of Exitium in this part of the mountains had been captured and killed. The rest were now missing. The entire village where Saffron had lived was in confusion, with many of the residents convinced that Saffron was behind the killings.
That was ridiculous, of course, but the jaguars were now convinced that the Rosens had instigated those rumors. They were out of options and backed into a corner, so they were fighting back in the only way they knew how. They were attempting to shift the blame to someone else. They’d also spread the rumor that before Topaz died, she’d placed a curse on the village, and that Saffron had given that curse greater power when she’d killed her uncle and fled.
It amazed Landon how intelligent people could believe in illogical superstitions, simply because people they perceived as authority figures uttered them. The jaguars had finally been able to ascertain just how powerful the Rosens were in this village. Their word here was law, and no one dared to refute it.
This was the family that Saffron would have been forced into if she’d stayed, and it turned Landon’s stomach to think about her exposed to such a life. He would fight to the death to clear her name.
* * * *
Nevada struggled not to shift. He was so ready for this. He only hoped nothing would happen to Landon. His grandfather had tried every which way to talk Landon out of coming along, and finally Nevada and Landon both had blurted out the truth. They’d told Nevada’s grandfather and mother that they were both in love with Saffron, and that they believed she hadn’t killed her uncle Dennis.
His mother and grandfather hadn’t been surprised by either revelation, but they were both very worried that the Rosens would recognize Landon for what he was, and if things went south, the entire village would then be at risk.
Even if the Rosens were captured and exposed for who and what they stood for, the residents of the village where Saffron lived were superstitious, and one or more of them might rise up to take the Ros
ens’ place. Landon, Nevada, and Mancie weren’t safe either way.
Nevada understood all that, but how could he ask Landon to stay behind and wait? That would make Landon feel like less of a man than he already had his entire life. No. He had just as much right to be here as any of them. He’d stay hidden. The Rosens would never see him, and his name would not be mentioned in front of the villagers. They’d never know he was here.
As they advanced through the brush, Nevada pictured Saffron’s face and her big green eyes. He hated being away from her, but he’d come here to clear her name, and that’s what he intended to do. He and Landon had spent hours talking as they drove and then waited for this morning to come. They’d debated the possibilities of Saffron truly having killed her uncle until they couldn’t even think any longer, and they’d reached only one clear conclusion. No matter what the outcome, they were going to be there for her.
They loved her. It was that simple and that final. And both men knew that love didn’t come walking around every corner. It had been the most horrible thing Nevada had ever had to do when he and Landon had driven away from her yesterday. She’d stood on the front porch watching them, with a look of utter defeat on her face. It had taken every ounce of willpower Nevada possessed to keep going.
And now, it was almost over. It came down to this morning, in these woods. He heard movement close to the cabin before the door opened and three men emerged. He’d never seen Marc, Jake or Gregory Rosen, but he didn’t need to in order to know who they were. The three were laughing about something, as carefree as if they were leaving their home in the morning to go and have breakfast.
They slowed their walk at the same time Gary’s voice crackled in Nevada’s ear with one word—Go. Their laughter ceased, and the three sniffed the air as if sensing something, but they weren’t fast enough. Dozens of men surrounded them, and Nevada felt the air charge as it does right before a storm.
There wasn’t one, of course. The sky was blue, and early morning sunlight had just begun to filter down through the tree branches. There was plenty of light to see the looks on the men’s faces as they realized who was advancing toward them.
The oldest one reacted first, shifting before several of the jaguars could reach him. Three of them shifted as well, and took off after Gregory Rosen. Marc and Jake stood with their mouths open, watching their father run, probably in shock that he’d left them to fend for themselves. What kind of coward would leave his sons like that and try to save his own neck?
Three jaguars knocked Marc to the ground, and three took care of Jake in the same way. Nevada rushed forward with the others, and caught up to the group in time to see a man sitting on the chest of each Rosen brother, holding a purple stone against their parkas while reciting an incantation.
Marc and Jake were both screaming obscenities at the jaguars, but it didn’t matter. They couldn’t shift. They were trapped. Caught—just that easily. Nevada shook his head. These were the two men who were supposed to be Saffron’s mates? Ridiculous. This had been way too easy. No blood had even been drawn. Nevada was so disappointed. He’d been in the mood for a good fight.
Nevada turned at the sound of running footsteps behind him. “What are they doing with those gem stones?” asked Landon.
Nevada motioned him away from the group. He didn’t want the Rosens to see him, even though they wouldn’t live long enough to get a good look at him. “It’s lepidolite, otherwise known as a peace stone. It’s actually a form of mica. When you recite the proper incantation and hold it against a shape-shifter’s heart, he or she can’t shift until you reverse the spell.”
“Brilliant. But I didn’t get to shoot anyone.”
Nevada glanced at him for a second, and then both men laughed. The jaguars who had run after Gregory were back, dragging him naked through the snow in human form. His wrists and ankles were tied with chains, and he was screaming at them, threatening a lawsuit. The jaguars who had run after him only had on sweatpants and boots, which made Nevada wonder where they’d gotten the change of clothes. These men obviously knew what they were doing and prepared for every possible contingency.
Gary sprinted over to where Nevada and Landon stood while shrugging on a thick parka that someone had handed him. “What happens now?” asked Nevada. “I want Saffron’s name cleared.”
“Come with us then.”
“Where are you taking them?”
“We have a temporary HQ set up just outside Steamboat Springs.”
“And after they confess to framing Saffron?”
Gary gave him a stern look. “Assuming they confess it. Our objective here is to make sure they’re part of the League.”
“But I thought you were sure they were?”
Gary pointed toward the cabin which several jaguars had now entered. “They’ll search it and their house in the village. If the evidence is there, we’ll find it, just like we found it for the others.”
“What about the bounty on Saffron?”
“We intend to get to the bottom of that as well.”
“And what if you don’t?
“If these three are part of the League, the bounty won’t matter any longer.”
“Why not? How do you know half the shifter community isn’t out there looking for her right now?”
“Because once word gets out that these three were part of the League, the bounty will be void. They’re the ones who swore it out. No one else.”
“All right. But I still want her name cleared. If they’re part of the League and you find proof, then what?” Nevada was tired of these games. Give him and Landon ten minutes alone with the Rosens. They’d get the truth out of them.
“Then we kill them.”
Gary’s voice was as cold as the snow on which they all stood, and his eyes held no warmth or emotion. Nevada almost shivered as they locked gazes. “And what happens to Saffron if they’re not involved?”
“I doubt we’ll have to worry about that, Nevada. Relax. I know you’re ready to have this over with, but these three are only part of the puzzle. Come with us to HQ.” He glanced at Landon. “And put that damn thing someplace safe before you accidentally shoot someone with it.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Landon and Nevada sat behind one-way glass, just like the kind they had in the Passion Peak police station, listening to the jaguars grill Gregory, Marc, and Jake Rosen about their activities in the League of Exitium, and about what had really happened to Saffron’s uncle. Despite the physical evidence they’d found in both the cabin and the Rosens’ house in the village, the three continued to deny their involvement.
Landon had drunk endless cups of coffee all day, and he was wired. It was already Friday night, and he wished Saffron had a cell phone so that he could tell her the Rosens had been captured this morning. He had no idea if Drake even knew yet, and every attempt to ask Nevada or Mason if they could let Drake know so that he could in turn tell Saffron, had been met with them urging him to simply be patient.
He was at the end of his patience. He’d already reached it because this morning, when the men had been captured, this should have ended, right then and there. But the jaguars were doing everything by the book, although Landon doubted that anyone would be able to tell him which book this shit could be found in. Like the League, these jaguars made their own laws and played by their own rules.
Landon was only grateful that they were on his and Nevada’s side, because the Rosens hadn’t been given food or water all day, and when they had to pee, they’d been forced to do it on the floor in the room. As much as he wished Gary would give him and Nevada a few minutes alone with the three, Landon was secretly glad they’d never agree to such a thing. The smell in there must be unbearable by now.
One of the jaguars came into the anteroom, his eyes wide and a feral smile on his face. “We’ve got them now.”
“What do you mean, Rob?” Gary stared at the plastic bag in the man’s hand.
“Had a cop friend in Steamboat Springs
push this through. It’s your murder weapon. And guess whose prints are on it?”
Landon’s heart froze. He and Nevada exchanged a dark glance.
“Where was that found?” asked Nevada.
“The cabin in the woods,” said Rob. “They’d stashed it at the bottom of a trash can, along with other garbage.”
“You dug through their garbage?” asked Landon.
His comment earned him an impatient look from Gary, who ignored the question and addressed Rob. “They matched it with Dennis Estampado’s DNA?”
Rob nodded. “Yep. The blood on this is his.”
“How did you get a city cop lab to cooperate with you?” asked Landon. What the hell was really going on here? How deep did this run?
Gary sighed audibly. “How do you think we do what we do around the country? We know people everywhere, not only in local police departments. Nothing we do is illegal.”
“But it wouldn’t hold up in a courtroom.” Saffron would need an attorney. Landon would have to start asking around town. Surely someone knew one who would help her.
Gary gave him a long look. “You’re right. It wouldn’t. The thing is, we don’t rely on the court systems. But without physical evidence like this, we can’t exact confessions out of people who don’t want to give them, and we can’t clear someone’s name without it, either.”
“What?” Landon stared at Gary, not daring to believe what it sounded like he was saying.
Nevada clapped him on the back. “Dude, I’m cutting you off. No more coffee until you sleep for a while.”
Gary almost smiled. “Rob, you want to explain this to our cougar friends?”
“Ah, sure. The blood on this that they probably thought they’d washed off belongs to Dennis Estampado. The prints on it belong to Jake Rosen. We took their prints when we brought them in here. We have Saffron’s prints from the pocketknife you gave Drake Jargonian’s friend. But we only found one set on this, and they belong to Jake Rosen, not Saffron Estampado. This was clearly the murder weapon, and Jake is the one who used it on Dennis Estampado.”
